#At least no-one can...call him....short...now?
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Platonic Yan!Batfam X dazai!GNreader X Yandere DC
Mix of neglected batfam and based of port mafia dazai with a small slice of ada dazai
Forgotten child
Prologue
A bastard is what you are
You were a result of a one night stand between Bruce Wayne and your mother who you don’t or will ever know the name of.
How’d you know his your father? A simple DNA test.
Who would’ve thought that a child of a billionaire Bruce Wayne would ended up in the mafia.
As much as you want to know more about your mother, it was quickly dialed down by one sentence.
“Traitors doesn’t deserve to have their name pass down”
Mori isn’t really the best person to look up to
You were at the very least 5 or older when the GCPD took you away, you don’t remember.
Alfred was the one who pick you up from the investigation.
He remembers that day as if it was yesterday.
You, a malnourished child who stayed still, staring into the darkness with no light in their eyes, bandages covering you.
It was a pity sight.
A few calling of your name to realized it time to go to your new ‘home’
You move as if you’re not even human, instead a doll who was abandoned and left to rot.
With what left of your belongings, if you even had any, Alfred with his gentle nature guided you to the car.
You didn’t even made a breathing sound, only blinking and constant fidgeting to your doll.
He tried his best to struck up a conversation with you, such as “how are you?” Yet only to be replied back with either a deafening silence or words barely above a whisper.
You were a child yet have suffered so much beyond to see the light of hope.
Only when you’ve arrived at the manor is when you started clinging more to him. Maybe it your nature as a child to be nervous to go to your new home.
With what left of your innocence, you looked up to him with a pleading look , “don’t…. Don’t let go please….”
Your voice was hoarse and dehydrated but it still sounded as if you were afraid of being left alone.
Probably the effect of losing the only person whom you know and trust.
When you cling onto him is when he took note of your entire appearance.
Yes you were covered in bandages but those bandages were not only dirty but also covered in red streaks of blood and was layered below the fresh white one.
Your clothes had some torn at end, hair being messy and full of knots, sections of your skin having bruises.
Alfred was more than ready to hold your hand while guiding you to wherever you two go together.
Yes the absent of your family was saddened you but Alfred company was what you wanted.
You didn’t care for the others, not when they ignore you 90% of the time and not when Alfred is there with whenever he has the chance.
In your mind, Bruce Wayne is not your father no, instead it was Alfred Pennyworth.
But even that doesn’t stop you from being what you are now.
Bruce Wayne, the man who is your supposed father. Do you hate him? Not really.
You can’t really hate a man you barely know your whole life.
And it wasn’t hard to learn what does he do for a living other than being a man whore.
He bare- actually never even had a proper conversation that lasted more than 3 seconds.
The dude didn’t even notice the increasing amount of bandages when you first stared in the port mafia.
Richard Grayson, the second person to talk to you after Alfred. Do you also hate him? A mix feeling really.
You know about him more than you know about Bruce, on what he doing when he’s Nightwing, what he’s favourite food, and just the minimalist stuff.
You don’t exactly have the right feeling to describe your relationship with him.
Do you talk? Barely. Do you have a proper conversation? Never. Spend time together? Nope.
In short, you don’t think the two of you are fitted to be considered siblings.
Jason Todd, was probably the closest to you.
You saw him being taken in as a robin and died as a robin.
Yes you two mocked eachother in terms of whatever you can remember but at the very least there was interactions between the two of you in comparison to the others.
As much as you hated it, you did infact miss his presence when he died.
Timothy Drake was the most distant than all of them combine. The two of you didn’t have a single conversation or even a single sentence to eachother.
You knew well he’s a fan of Batman and probably didn’t even knew you existed or just didn’t care since you’re not one of the vigilante.
Not that you care, you never identify yourself as a Wayne anyway
Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown and Barbara Gordon…… how should you describe them….
Just like Tim, you don’t exist in their world, but instead a background character.
You were sure that they can’t even remember your name properly without mispronouncing.
But You do sure as hell do love it when you’re given a nickname by someone
Last of all, Your half Brother. Damian Wayne, as much as the two of you barely talk, the first meeting wasn’t very welcoming.
Almost being impaled doesn’t give out a nice first impression after all.
You mostly try your best to ignore the insults and the degrading words from him.
The little kid barely met you yet for some reason hold a deep hatred for you like you did something illegal.
You’re currently standing in front of a grave….. someone who was there to take care of you in the port mafia.
You stare blankly at the grave, not knowing what to do, wether to breakdown and cry or to leave it alone.
You were trembling, sweating and on the verge of actually breaking down yet something is holding you back.
Oda Sakunosuke
Your father figure after Alfred is dead.
Ango is right by your side trying his best to comfort you.
As much as you were a demon prodigy, he knew that deep down there’s a child who’s unable to act like one.
You shrugged him off before walking away to do a phone call.
“Alfred….? I know it’s a sudden but…. Please clean up my room…… I no longer staying at the manor from now on”
You try your best to held in your tears but your voice betrays you, and Alfred knows that.
He swallow a lump in his throat before replying, “don’t worry Master [N], I understand. But do please remember that I will always be there to welcome you”
He was the only one who knows about your work in the Port Mafia and the only one who you trusted to told it too.
He knows about the people you met and the people who you befriended.
He understands how a death of one of them can put you on the verge of losing what left in your humanity and to live.
And he knows that the death of your second father figure can cause you distorted in many ways.
Inspired by @-acid-ixx again & again series and @-marcyvampire silly little bat.
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As we are now (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)
-> in which you explore your husband’s new form, and it leads to you breaching a rather delicate subject
Warnings: evil!reader, smut, oral (Sauron receiving, he gets rough but reader is completely on board with it), p in v, dom!Sauron but it’s kind of back and forth, reader and Sauron being deep in denial about their desire for a bit of normalcy
Note: part of the evil!reader collection. If you’re new, reader has been married to Sauron since before Adar’s betrayal and infiltrated herself as a smith of Eregion, where she awaited her husband’s return.
Mature content below the cut - minors DNI!!!
You burst into delighted laughter the moment you are in the privacy of your own chamber. The light, the smoke, the speech, the look—be still your black little heart and your poor loins, the look.
It was a good thing you had worked as closely as you did with Celebrimbor and so-called Halbrand before your husband had been forced to leave Eregion, for the Elven Rings were in great part your achievement as well, and so Celebrimbor had deemed that you had just as much right to learn what had become of them upon Halbrand’s return. It was also a good thing you were standing behind Celebrimbor, and that he was entirely enraptured with your husband’s divine appearance as ‘Annatar’ made his grand entrance, because the hand with which you had covered your grin could hardly conceal the shameless glee in your eyes.
To see his deceit at work is always a joy. But even greater is the delight of knowing he shall join you in your chamber shortly, just as soon as he is finished entertaining the awe-struck Celebrimbor for the night. You stand at your window, hoping your wait will not be long. You haven’t had the chance to be alone with your husband since he had returned to Eregion, and somehow the last moments before the promise of reunion always feel like the longest.
He moves within the shadows, as quietly as them. You do not need to hear the opening and closing or your door, or even the steps approaching you, to know that he is there, even before arms snake around your waist from behind and lips press to your neck. You chuckle, leaning into your husband.
“A messenger of the Valar. A being of pure light, sent to unlock his grandest abilities.” You turn around in his arms, and wrap yours around his neck, grinning. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Celebrimbor quite so close to spending in his breeches before.”
“How crudely you speak of your dear friend,” your husband pretends to admonish, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Can you fault a poor Elf for falling to his knees in the face of his greatest desires coming true?”
“Fault him? Of course not.” You lower your voice to a sensual purr, leaning in so that your breath warms his lips as you speak. “In fact, if I were him, I’d have done far more than kneel.” You shrug. “Or tried, at the very least. Surely, an emissary of the Valar is above such worldly temptations.”
His lips are only a moment too slow to catch your teasing ones. You nimbly slip from his hold and walk past him—to no destination whatsoever, for you know you are to be caught nearly at once and relish the short anticipation. You still give a small yelp when he catches your wrist and spins you around, pulling you flush against him. There’s hunger in his eyes, and playfulness, as he secures your waist into a hold not so easily escapable as the last.
“Not even the Maker himself is above admiring true beauty,” he says, lifting your chin with a gentle knuckle as his thumb brushes your bottom lip. “And you, my lady, are the most exquisite of his creations.”
He can pay you a thousand compliments, and you would still swoon each and every time. On the inside, at the very least, for at the moment you simply remove his hand from your mouth.
“Is that all you wish? To admire me?” you tease still, ignoring the impatient tick in your husband’s jaw. “It would be such a pity if the Lord of Gifts did not receive some form of gratitude in return for the blessings he carries. Does one as pure as you even know of what I speak?”
You hold his gaze as you catch the tip of his thumb between your teeth, giving the pad the lightest lick. Your husband’s throat bobs as he watches.
“Do enlighten me,” he rasps out.
And you fully intend to. His lips are so plump and tempting, close enough that you can all but taste them. You haven’t kissed your husband since before he left for Adar’s camp in Mordor, an obscenely long amount of time already.
“With pleasure,” you whisper—close, so close to giving you both the meeting of lips you so crave...
Not quite.
You push his chest, just enough for him to let you take a step backward with a frustrated little breath. His eyes hold a glint of warning, hunger that might just surface to end your little game if you push it a smidge too far over the edge. But in the end, you like to play, and he likes to indulge you. And it isn’t as though you are dallying about as you slide his outer robe off his shoulders and down his arms. In fact, you are quite unceremoniously hasty, and so your husband straightens his arms by his sides, letting the fabric fall to the floor in a graceless heap around his feet.
Now, for the grey robe beneath, covering him from neck to ankle, humbly adorned with only a simple pattern along the collar... you could, in theory, remove it the old-fashioned way. But you don’t feel particularly inclined to go through the hassle of lifting all that material over his head, and something wild is stirring in your chest, and it’s in your nature, after all, to do things just because.
You produce a dagger from a concealed pocket of your dress, grab your husband’s collar, hook the blade into it and rip! goes the dull fabric with a yank of your hand. Down to his waist the destruction continues, tear after tear as you pull the material away from his body so as not to nick the skin you so greedily reveal with the slashes of your blade.
He does not flinch once, save for a coy lift at the corner of his lips as you toss away the dagger and relieve him of the ruined garb, adding it to the pile of crumpled fabric on the floor. You pay it no more mind than you do his now bare torso, determined to admire him in all his splendor when you finally take him in, head to toe.
“You speak of giving something in return,” he remarks quite casually as your hands next reach straight for the fastenings of his trousers, “yet all you seem to do is take—the very clothes off my back, no less.”
You smirk up at him. “Well, I should like to lay my eyes upon the gift for which I am to repay you first.”
You pull his trousers down in one quick move, proudly stripping him of the last shred of divine decency with which he had clad himself for Celebrimbor’s benefit. He cooperates smoothly as you crouch to yank the pants off his legs one by one, then toss his modest footwear to the side as well, and when you rise back to your full height, your husband stands before you with not a stitch on him.
The most skilled of Elven artists could not capture the exquisite painting which graces your roving eyes. ‘Perfect’ doesn’t begin to describe him—not that you ever regard him as anything less. But in this specific form, he is the very picture of Elven beauty and grace, likely to enchant the eye of most, if not all beings of your kind.
He is much smoother than Halbrand was. The hair on his body is less evident, as light in color as the blond tresses framing his face and not as coarse to the touch, you determine whilst trailing your fingers down his arm, shoulder to wrist. He is no doubt appealing, but you had been quite fond of the dark smattering of hair on Halbrand’s chest, and will surely miss the equally dark trail leading the tantalizing way between his navel and cock.
Speaking of which—that part of him is as glorious as ever, and already quite visibly eager. It would require but a graze of your fingers to grow into his full hardness. But you purposefully avoid that particular bit of enticing flesh as your fingers next trace a delicate line up his thigh, taking a detour along his hip instead. You let your nails scrape his skin ever so slightly as they venture higher, feeling his firm abdomen twitch faintly beneath your touch. He is sculpted with perfect balance, the lines of his muscles painting a stunning picture of bodily strength without too dramatic of a bulk, still allowing for elegance. Your fingers ascend to his chest, traveling across its alluring plane, and come to graze one nipple, earning a hitch in your husband’s breath. Otherwise, he stands perfectly still, subjecting himself to your quiet exploration.
You circle him slowly, your touch uninterrupted as your fingers trace his skin on a path to his shoulder blades. In the meantime, you release his newly long hair from the silver headpiece he had given himself, letting it fall onto the heap of clothes on the floor. You come to a halt facing his back, as beautifully muscled as the front, and—for the love of the Valar you have forsaken, there is nothing objectively different about the shape of his buttocks, but you swear they have grown even more enticing than before. You give one an appreciative caress, fingers following the plump curve of flesh between his upper thigh and lower back, before giving it a most satisfying squeeze.
Your husband releases a short huff of a chuckle. You press yourself against him, still groping his behind as you brush his hair over his shoulder to press a kiss to the top of his spine.
“I find myself in quite the predicament, I’m afraid,” you murmur into his skin. “So exquisite is the gift, I cannot imagine how I am to pay in kind.”
“A gift, by definition, is not paid,” your husband says, giving you a pointed look over his shoulder. “But you may begin by putting an end to this teasing.”
You grin, giving his behind a sharp pinch with just a bit of nail scratch. That finally earns you an undignified gasp from his throat, followed by a scolding tsk as you turn him around by the shoulders.
“I am merely beholding your ‘natural form’, my lord,” you mock Celebrimbor’s earlier words, caressing your husband’s face and chest as you meet his scalding gaze with your sensuous one. “So I may know how best to worship it.”
You all but lunge forward to catch his lips, finally, after the wait of separation as well as your self-imposed delay—
A large hand clamps around your neck. It is your husband, now, who keeps you at bay, lips hovering one tantalizing inch above yours as he grouses, “I believe you mentioned something about kneeling.”
He pushes down on your shoulders with just enough force that you gasp as your knees bend, dropping to the floor at once. He might as well have reached down your throat and ripped the breath from your lungs with his fingers. You look up at your husband, standing above you in all his glory, the light of candles catching in his fair tresses in an ethereal halo. Yet most disarming are the pitch black depths of his eyes, trained onto you with devastating intensity.
“Well, my lady?” His tongue curls around the respectful title in such a way, it somehow sounds degrading. He tilts your chin even further back with a firm knuckle. “How is it that you worship your gods?”
You swallow nothing at all, eyelids fluttering as you stare upwards like a believer at prayer. He does this sometimes, playing along until he doesn’t, flipping the tables and taking charge in the blink of an eye. It almost feels like a physical stroke of your clit, creamy arousal gushing from your core in an instant.
It’s such a slippery slope. The submission. The rawness of it. You’ve both known what it was to be at the mercy of another before, one who had no such thing as mercy. But you do not despair, and you are not afraid. For this is not Morgoth, nor are you a slave. You are free to surrender yourself to him, and few things make you feel so powerful as his craving to be adored by you.
“I have one god, and one alone,” you murmur, holding his gaze as you embrace his legs, clinging to the flesh just below his buttocks and striving to look up despite the angle at which you then bend. “I kneel only to him,” you lay a kiss above one knee, “I worship only at his feet,” then the other. “I would kill for him,” you kiss him mid-thigh on one leg, “I would die for him,” then the other. “I would live,” you place a kiss right to the side of his cock, “through endless torment,” as well as the other side, “only for him.” You rise on your knees slightly, and press your lips below his navel, pleading with your eyes. For what, it matters not. For anything he might give.
The growl which leaves your husband’s throat is more wild beast than Elf. He takes in his fists your hair and his own hard length, keeping you where he wants as he drags the tip of his cock from the base of your neck to your chin, as though splitting the skin upon the blade of his desire. Arousal smears a trail up your throat. He wants in.
“Show me,” he commands, his tip nudging at your quivering lips. “Show me how you adore me.”
As if you had not already. As if you do not always. But you are beyond glad to remind him. Your tongue darts past your lips to give the slit a sole lick. As he releases his cock to plant his hand onto your shoulder instead, you take hold of his length yourself to flatten it against his stomach. You spare a moment to admire it, so promisingly full and flushed with want, then press your lips to the underside, right at the base, and work your way to the tip with a string of doting kisses. How you love this most sensitive part of him, and cherish each and every twitch with which it responds to your affections.
His hands tense impatiently on your head and shoulder, but he needs not handle you into further action as you finally take his cockhead in your mouth, sucking gently. Then firmly, and over again, until you’re truly fucking him with your mouth, your hand working in tandem to cover the length you cannot swallow with each bob of your head.
The crease in his brow betrays his pleasure, though he stands above you tall and stoic as ever. Even when you swirl your tongue around his tip the way you know drives him wild, even when you reach underneath to fondle the sensitive sack at the base of his manhood. You wish he would reward your efforts with the groans and gasps you know he keeps lodged within his throat. You want to rip them out with your teeth, if need be. And so you take him deep, as deep as he can go inside your throat, all while piercing him with your wanton gaze.
Your husband curses. His fist in your hair tightens, tugs at the roots with just enough force that it stings most deliciously. Control is ripped from you once more as he drives his cock into your throat at his own merciless pace, and if you could, you would smile at your victory in breaking his composure. You grab hold of his buttocks, nails digging into the soft flesh as he buries himself in your mouth, over and over. You’ve gathered more than enough skill over your years together to withstand such an act whilst still drawing some air into your lungs, even if only the barest minimum. Still, a tear slides down your cheek, and you groan around his length, knowing the sound will only add to his pleasure.
“Such beauty,” he muses gruffly, catching your tear with a gentle thumb even as he keeps thrusting. “Such ruin.”
His mind nudges at yours, such a stark contrast between the immaterial caress and his ruthless handling of you. The answer he seeks is written in your eyes, your mind, the same message ringing out over and over from every corner of your being: Grip me, keep me, ruin me. Spill in my mouth. Fill it with your taste. Give me everything.
The enormity of your need for his pleasure is what does him in. He doesn’t stifle, doesn’t deny you the sound of his wrecked groan as he ceases upon a final thrust, cock shoved so deep down your throat that your nose is buried in the fair curls at his base. You shut your eyes as he spills and spills, relishing the throbbing of his flesh on your tongue and the essence of him gliding down your throat. Breathing can wait. Not forever, but for a while.
Your husband, of course, allows it long before you’d have truly struggled. But you still pant for breath the moment he pulls out, and your forehead drops to his thigh as you wipe the mess left on your chin. Not a moment later, your husband tilts your head back, demanding your misty eyes to meet his.
“My love,” he breathes out, the lust in his gaze having melted into something akin to awe. “Oh, my love. How desperately you crave my pleasure.” His chest begins to heave, eyes growing feral with fresh hunger. “As I crave yours.”
He bends down, grabs your waist and hoists you from the ground straight into his arms, at last claiming your lips as you wrap your legs around him with an elated moan. It is as though his end did nothing but spur him into wishing for another, this time whilst buried in your depths. Barely a moment later, he lays you down on your bed, his bare body pressing your clothed one into the mattress. His hips are already nestled between your legs, grinding relentlessly as you write and whine beneath his ravenous kisses of your mouth, then of any bare inch he finds of your neck and chest.
He fists his hands in the shoulders of your dress, and he needs no blade to rip the fabric down your chest unceremoniously. You gasp, mildly indignated—you had been rather fond of that piece. But the sacrifice is well worth it for the unbridled desire on his face as he admires your bare breasts, as though it were his first time seeing them. “This is all I could think of,” he rasps out, “whilst I stood waiting at the gate. What I would do once I could finally touch my wife’s skin, her flesh...” He kneads one breast, staring in marvel as that wonderfully pliant part of you yields beneath his fingers, “This lovely, soft flesh of yours. Look how it calls to me.”
His thumb swipes over one pebbled nipple, indeed straining upward as though reaching for your husband’s touch, just before he descends upon it with the heat of his mouth.
“Yes,” you moan, arching into him greedily. “But my flesh has remained unchanged... for centuries,” you strive to argue as his tongue lavishes that most sensitive peak, teeth tugging in a mean tease at the flesh around it. “Tonight,” you gather your resolve, “I was supposed... to be exploring... you!”
With a great push on that last word, you flip him onto his back. Your husband lets loose a wicked laugh as his head hits the pillow and you roll on top of him, panting.
“It is hardly my fault that you are so easily distracted.” He grins up at you without an ounce of shame. Oh, the audacious little arse of a Maia (whom you would not have any other way).
“As if you are any better,” you retort, and swiftly prove yourself right. You dive much like a vulture aiming to snatch its prey, one hand sinking in his hair as you catch the brand new pointed tip of his ear between your teeth and tug, hard. Your husband gives a sharp grunt, hands flying to grip your hips.
“Hm, I’ve missed these,” you say, suckling at the tender skin as if to soothe the sting you purposely inflicted whilst your husband groans beneath you. “Remember when I made you spill simply from biting them?”
“A most admirable feat,” he growls, “for which I have not the patience at the moment.”
He means to lift his torso off the bed, but you hold him down with a firm hand pressed to his chest. “Ah-ah,” you shake your head, slowly rising to sit up astride him. “I wish to stay right here,” you say, gathering the skirts of your dress pooling over his crotch to help yourself to his newly straining erection, “and admire the view.”
And what a wonderous view indeed. From here, he is laid out below you like a grand feast, offering to the pleasure of your eye every little twitch of the muscles in his neck and abdomen as you give his length a few preparatory pumps. His hair is splayed out on your pillow in fair waves, like the halo of the divine being he now claims to be. You can nearly see why Morgoth had so wished to corrupt him, when he truly was a being of pure light. Though in Morgoth’s place, you would never have been so foolish as to fail in cherishing Mairon’s loyalty like the most precious gift that it was. In Morgoth’s place, you’d have punished your beloved servant with nothing but the most wicked of pleasures, and rewarded his terrible feats in your name with a throne beside yours and a crown placed upon his splendid head.
“Admire?” your husband raises a coy eyebrow, even as he throbs in your fist. “I thought you wished to reward me for my generosity,” he reminds you of the little game you had been playing at the beginning. You are no mighty Vala who can offer him everything he has ever craved on a silver platter, but you need not be, when you are what he needs most desperately.
“What better reward than this?” you smile, and sink onto his length in one swift move, pulling a moan from yourself and a brisk curse in Black Speech from him. Having engulfed him to the hilt, you plant your hands onto his chest, savoring the divine stretch.
“How does it fit, my love?” your husband asks, thrusting up ever so slightly.
“It’s perfect,” you moan. “So... so perfect.” As always, but you can’t deny you’ve landed at an angle which hits especially right, even before you’re begun to truly ride him.
“Good.” Your husband’s smile drips with pride. “I made it for you.”
It takes a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in. He has made this form, having fully recovered his ability to deliberately choose the shape and size of each part of himself, and—
“Oh,” you let out, your face crumpling with adoration as you melt on the inside. “You’ve gone through such trouble…”
You say it with false modesty, though this is barely a fraction of the lengths to which he had gone for you in the past, as well as barely a necessity. Even a shaft as inauspicious as the handle of a hammer could become an instrument of your pleasure in your husband’s hands, if it were wielded with his incomparable skill and intimate knowledge of your flesh. But whilst form alone is not everything, there is such a thing as a more or less natural fit for any given body. And this particular appendage with which your husband has endowed himself… the length and girth, every vein, every ridge, is specifically tailored to suit your needs. To stretch you perfectly, just on the right side of the light burn he knows you relish without causing you real pain, to rub and press exquisitely against your walls in all the sweetest ways and spots he knows by heart that you would most enjoy.
“No trouble at all, my love,” he says, hands roaming over your thighs. “I made each part of myself to suit my purpose. I desire no offspring, and have no bodily needs apart from those awakened by my wife. So, you see, the sole purpose of my cock... is to pleasure you. Us.” He brings your hand to his lips, the kiss he presses to your knuckles as reverent as though he were greeting you in the midst of an elegant ballroom rather than naked in your bed, buried inside you to the hilt. “I worship only at the feet of my goddess as well.”
He says it like a vow. This time, when he rises from the mattress to gather you close, closer, you make not the slightest move to stop him—distracted again. But you are beyond caring. Beyond teasing games. There is no slow seduction, no calculated rhythm to the manner in which you begin to move, hips rolling frantically into your husband’s.
“Yes, my love,” he urges fervently. “Take what you need.”
As you do, he makes quick work to relieve you of the remnants of your dress, jaw clenched as your heat swallows him over and again in its velvety depths. He pulls and tears at the fabric, throws it away as if it were standing between him and the healing of Middle-Earth itself, and his wife is at last bared atop him, bouncing prettily on his cock.
“Nothing beneath,” he remarks, a most delicious reprimand as he gropes at your waist, urging you in your movements. “Is such the custom among the ladies of Eregion these days?”
A short laugh finds its way through the string of gasps and moans that leave your throat. “I’ve not worn undergarments since you arrived at the gate.”
“Of course not,” he purrs, the twisted pride in his gaze going straight to the onslaught of pleasure already between your legs. “My beautiful wife, waiting for me with open arms and a bare cunt. Soaked the moment you laid eyes upon me, were you not?”
All the answer he gets is a pitiful whine, and your lips sloppily catching his in a needy kiss. Seated in his lap, with your arm wrapped around his shoulders and your hand sunk into his hair, you are in control over the pace of your thrusts as well as utterly helpless with adoration. He holds you in the circle of his arms so fiercely, tears gather at the corner of your eyes as you pull away to take in your beloved’s expression. His beautiful lips, slightly parted in pleasure. His eyes, darkened to near slits with unbridled desire for you. Only for you.
“I love you,” you all but sob, your hips clashing into his so ruthlessly, you would fear for the anatomy of any lesser being of male form subjected to such treatment. Your mind is as frantic as the tempest in your core, on the verge of unraveling. “I love you, I love you so much—”
“All the heart I have left is yours,” he says in a ragged breath, nails digging into your shoulderblades. “Yours, always yours.”
If that wasn’t enough, the heat of his seed filling you to the brim does you in. Your peak has you clenching around your husband’s throbbing cock as though you mean to cage him within you for the rest of all time, and what a tempting prospect that is.
You slack against him, breathing heavily into his neck. Incoherent fragments of endearments leave your lips, but not even you can tell what you are saying. Your husband cradles your head, shushing you softly through the aftershocks of your release, and lies back against the pillows with you securely in his arms. You hum tiredly as he pulls out, and use the little strength left in your limbs to shift downward so that you may rest your head on your husband’s chest. He needs no heartbeat, but it soothes you to feel it beneath your cheek, strong and slowly settling down after the wonderful exertion through which you had put his form.
“I take it, then,” he says into the blissful silence that has fallen between you, “that my new visage is to your liking.”
You give a soft, tired laugh. Lifting yourself enough that you can gaze down at your husband’s face, you cup his cheek with an adoring smile.
“I liked you rough around the edges, imperfectly human,” you murmur, fingertips grazing the fine lines at the corner of his eye. “I like you smooth and pristine, descended from a great cloud of golden light. I like this face as well as any other, so long as I am looking in my beloved’s eyes.” You press a short kiss to his smiling lips. “It does not hurt, of course, that he tends to be unbearably fair.”
A small chuckle rumbles from his chest to yours. “I do try. But I admit I wonder,” he goes on, growing thoughtful, “now that I am able to change at will once more... whether you would prefer me as I was.”
His question gives you pause, your brow knitting slightly. He does not find such a prospect hurtful, you feel, but he is rather curious to know the answer.
“Would you prefer me as I was?” you ask in turn. “If I were... changed somehow, as you have been?”
His eyes caress your face as his knuckles graze your cheekbone, deeply tender. “I cannot say I would not mourn, if only for a while, the exact arrangement of lines and curves which shaped your form when I first held you in my arms,” he confesses, soft-spoken. “But I would prefer my beloved as she wishes to be.”
Many times, he has been loving to you, but there is a particular flavour to the moments when he is so plainly… sweet. His words move you in a way that makes you feel oddly fragile, sending your heart aflutter as only a being much younger and less scarred than you might be able to feel. You lay your head on your husband’s chest, closing your eyes to savour the sentiment. Yet, as his fingers graze your skin in loving patterns, a trace of old sorrow creeps into your heart. How lucky you are to be lying in your husband’s arms, discussing whether you would prefer one face over another, when you had once wondered how many Ages would have to pass before you could finally be at each other’s side once more.
“I was ill,” you murmur suddenly, cheek still pressed to his heart. “When they took you. For a long time. Ill of mind. As though part of it had shattered and the splinters kept shredding at what little was left of it. I began to... slip, between reality and waking dreams that felt so real, I could no longer tell the difference. At times, I was grateful for it. Because in the ruins of my mind, you had returned to me with a crown upon your head, and you took me in your arms and I was whole again, if only until the fiction fell apart and left me even more bereft than I had been before. Sometimes, I fell into memories, reliving Morgoth’s torments as though they had never ended, but even within those I longed to remain forever. For there, you were with me, and no pain could compare to that of being without you. But once... once, I lived not the past I craved, nor the one that had come to pass. I was... someone else. Someone I had been before Morgoth. And so were you. In fact... there had never been a Morgoth.”
The hand with which your husband was caressing your hair comes to a hesitant halt. You feel him tense, in body and in mind, feel his disquiet upon hearing such words. But he remains silent, and allows you to gather his hand in your own.
“It came to me in glimpses, moments over time, strung together into one story,” your voice is soft in a foreign way as you begin the tale, your fingers idly playing with his before your far away eyes. “What I first felt was light—the light of the Trees, warm upon my face. The skies of Valinor, clear abovehead, the soft grass grazing my bare feet where I sat by the creek. I was… singing. A song of my own making which I cannot remember, and which I am not sure I ever truly knew. But it was cut short, for I was startled by a sudden presence. Rising in haste to my feet, I turned to find the mightiest of the Maiar of Aulë himself standing only a few paces out of reach, his beautiful face awed as well as a touch apologetic. You had not meant to disturb my peace. But so enchanting you had found my voice as you were passing by, you said, that you wished to capture it in one of your creations.
“And so, at your invitation, I began to visit the great forge where the wonders of your mind were brought into being. I was so… shy, I barely dared to address you. But there was such peace in the silences we shared, such ease, that even though we were near perfect strangers, I felt as though we had already spoken every word in the world, and nothing remained to be said of our existence which we had yet to confess to one another most openly.
“You asked me to sing as you shaped metal, as you gave form to wondrous gems. And when I did, you looked at me as though I were the most precious being to have ever breathed in the light of the One. At times, you would forget yourself, and whilst precious materials awaited to be shaped before you, your hands would find mine instead. And they were able to do so with ease, for the more times I joined you in your forge, the closer together we stood.
“But you would not tell me what it was that you meant to craft, shrouding the work of your hands, somehow, from my eyes, even when I looked closely. Only because I let you, though. I knew I could look past the illusion and peek at any moment, but I made a game of it—trying to guess in what manner of adornment you meant to capture my voice. And each time I returned, you would gift me the very jewel I had last guessed, whether wrongly or not. Not the creation you meant to achieve in the end, but lesser ones crafted in my absence, during uninterrupted hours of toil. ‘Lesser’ being but a manner of comparison, for they were the most exquisite I had ever laid eyes upon. But I would have delighted in wearing something as simple as a bracelet made of grassblades, had I known them to have been entwined by your hands.
“On the day your work was finished, my heart was filled with such sorrow thinking our hours together might come to an end. For however plainly our eyes and joined hands had spoken of our feelings, such was my timid nature that I had never dared voice them, and you had never risked bringing offence to my virtue by speaking of yours. Not until you had completed your work, and you finally revealed to me what your end had been from the very beginning. It had not been one jewel you meant to craft, but two. Two splendid rings—neither of power, nor of symbolic importance to any but you and I. With your gifts, you had woven my voice into the gems, and in a way impossible to capture into words, the light reflected upon it shone with the echo of my song. Only then, as you placed one of the pair into my hands, did you confess that you had loved me since the moment you had first heard my voice, and your greatest desire would be for those twin jewels to become the symbols of devotion with which we become wed. Nevertheless, were it not my wish to bind myself to you, the other ring would be mine, to gift, if I should like, to the most fortunate being with whom I would choose to share my soul, whilst you would content yourself to love me from afar, and wish me nothing but the greatest of joy for so long as existence should be. At once I confessed that such a thought was not only absurd, but also too painful to bear—for my heart had been yours since the moment I had laid eyes upon you.
“And so we wed in song and merriment, and we danced under the radiant branches of the Trees, celebrated by your kin and mine alike. We made love in a meadow, soft and slow, and for hours you caressed my skin with petals yielded by a blossom tree in honor of our union. Even that act of passion was somehow so clean. So pure. So...” you search for the right way to describe it, “...wrong.”
It’s as though a spell breaks upon that last, dissonant word. You roll off of your husband, settling onto your side to face him as he does the same. His expression is hard to read, some blend of unease and intrigue in the furrow of his brow.
“For the first time, when the fiction ended, I did not weep,” you tell him, your voice no longer dreamy, but returned to a more familiar fierceness. “For I knew not those beings I had seen. Devoid of purpose, endlessly demure. Light and songs, desire kept secret beneath bashful smiles,” you scoff. “I wanted back the husband that I loved, not some unrecognizable version of him wearing his face. Not some children’s story of infuriating innocence.” With a small shake of your head against the pillow, and a soft, mirthless chuckle, you shift closer into your husband’s arms, both of you adjusting so that you are embracing on your sides. “So, no, my love,” is the answer you ultimately give, “I do not wish for either of us to be anything but what we are, here and now, in body as well as spirit.”
Your husband only hums, deep in thought. He has not said a word since you began to speak, and the longer his silence stretches, the more you begin to wonder whether your confession has displeased him, somehow. Perhaps he does not wish to hear of this romantic scenario your mind had invented, despite its protagonist being but a different version of himself. Or perhaps...
You’ve rarely spoken of what came before. It is a surprise as well as a relief, then, when he does so without seeming too unsettled by the fact that you had alluded to his former self in the first place.
“I was not as you described, indeed,” he murmurs in the end. “Even with my original... disposition, I’d not have hesitated to make my desire known, should I have had any such inclinations towards another. I have always hated a waste of good resources—time is no exception.”
You smile slightly. You know that all too well.
“Nor was I some helpless maiden who shied away from the slightest of amorous attentions,” you assure him. “I doubt it, either way,” you shrug. “I can hardly remember.”
Elven memories do not dim. You do remember what your life before Morgoth was like, but the details of it—the faces, the words spoken, the feelings… those have long been tucked away in a deep corner of your mind, never to be spoken or thought of again. For what use was there to it? That life had been burned away, along with everything you used to be.
“Either way,” you go on, brushing off even the merest thought of that distant past, “it was but a dull fable, conjured by a broken mind. I healed soon after. Reminded myself why I needed to remain sane and strive to do all that I can towards our goal, whether you were to return in a day or a century. Or several,” you add quietly, holding onto your husband just that little bit tighter. His forehead creases with the same deep ache in your chest as he nudges your nose with his.
“Let us not dwell on the past, or things that never were,” he murmurs in his deep, comforting tone. “I am here. And I shall not leave your side again.”
There is still an oddly meditative lilt to his words, a certain sense of wistfulness that does not quite hold the same flavour as the longing you had felt so many times shared between you. But you make no attempt to pry at the sentiment with your mind. Especially as he closes the distance between your lips, kissing you with utmost gentleness.
The kiss deepens, lasts for ages, but remains achingly tender. Utterly disarming. Your legs intertwine, bringing your hips flush together in the tangle. His flesh finds yours, and before long you are joined. There is no power play, no teasing, not even the desperate, nearly pained gasps, wails or groans you so enjoy to wring from one another. Only every inch of him pressed against every inch of you, soft moans melting onto each other’s tongues, the languid pleasure of moving together to an end that envelops you in its warm embrace, leaving you trembling in your husband’s arms and him moaning your name like a most sacred prayer.
In its wake, you are beyond words. All you can do is bury your face in your husband’s chest as he holds you close still, his fingers drawing soft shapes on your skin.
“I’d have made my desire for you known,” he repeats his earlier words in your ear, hushed but fervent, “and I’d never have bowed before Morgoth. For no promise of power could have swayed me to risk your safety. And we’d have stayed servants of the Valar, pure and obedient. It is only as we are now, my love, that we shall be masters of our own fate, and rule above all others.”
You shut your eyes, nuzzle further into his neck, his words sending a shiver through your very soul. This life you have shared is not easy. Not pretty. But in the end, it shall be glorious, better than any other that you might have lived. Truly.
It has to be.
As you drift to sleep, you swear your husband’s caress holds the ghost of a tender petal brushing your skin.
Previous fic with same reader -> As one
Next fic with same reader -> A true gift
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forgive and forget (CL16)
✰ charles leclerc x reader ✰
summary → dating a formula one driver meant that your boyfriend would always be busy, but what you didn't expect was for him to forget your anniversary all together.
genre → angst but gets fluffier towards the end (very short drabble, self-indulgent)
word count → 1.3k words
author's note → honestly, i really like writing angst with charles, i'm sorry dahbdhanda. i just needed a break from writing something with any sort of plot, so enjoy <3
the thunder in the background snapped me from my trance, i've been lost in thought for awhile now. the sky's dark and the day was almost ending, and here i was sitting at the dinner table, alone with food all around me.
the rain was drizzling in monaco, and it fueled the sinking hole in my chest. i knew that charles was a busy man, but i didn't expect him to forget our anniversary together.
somehow, i didn't feel sad, or disappointed. i just felt numb. it hurt of course, seeing your own boyfriend forgetting about your anniversary, something i thought that we would both celebrate together, spend the day together, or maybe just sit in the quiet of our apartment, kissing and touching and ending the day together.
but the fact of the matter was, he was a formula one driver and i couldn't keep expecting him to be there when i wanted. it was a selfish want, and somehow i needed to understand that not all anniversaries can be celebrated, and not all of them will be remembered.
a sigh escapes my lips, i've been waiting for him to come home for four hours now. maybe it was time to let up. i gently took the plates of now cold food and shuffled into the kitchen, putting them into containers to store in the fridge, not wanting them to go to waste. i had lost my appetite in the process, not even touching my own plate of food.
when i was finished putting all of the food away in the fridge, the door of our apartment jingled, charles was home.
"amour, i'm home," his voice had rung out in the apartment as he entered our shared apartment, even though i felt upset, i couldn't help but smile at him, at least he came home, right?
i was never the one to yell, to throw a fit when he forgot about something. even if it was something as important as our anniversary, i always wanted to talk it out, even when it made me upset and charles would always appreciate it, he would always talk to me lovingly even when we had our arguments.
"you missed our anniversary, love," i told him gently as i walked up to him, wrapping my arms around his middle before leaving a kiss on his cheek, his face flashed from surprise to frustration all in one go, he closed the door behind him and sighed, he was angry at himself for forgetting, i could tell. the way his brows were furrowed and his shoulders tensed.
"i-... amour, i'm sorry. things have been hectic, the car is just so shit this season and i didn't mean to—"
i cut him off before he could ramble on about his work with a soft kiss to his lips, "it's okay, i'm not mad at you. i know how things are at work and i understand, i just feel a little hurt that you didn't call or text me at all," i explain to him and he closes his eyes before wrapping his arms around me, he held me close.
i could smell the faint scent of his cologne as we held eachother close, the domestic aspect of it all. waiting for him to come home, cooking dinner for our anniversary even though he forgot.
"how about i make it up to you?" charles asked as he opened his eyes back up, the pretty green orbs of his eyes staring lovingly into me, staring lovingly into my bare soul, "what do you want to do?"
"can you just drive me around in your noisy car?" i laugh as he smiled at my joke, all of his cars were sports cars and they were noisy by default. i had always complained about it but i could never be mad at his love for his team, "just spend the night together, driving in the dark of the night while we sit in each other's company."
charles pressed his forehead against mine, he breathed in before nodding, "i can do that for you, do you want to go now?" he left a kiss on my lips before i nodded.
it wasn't long before i was in the passenger seat and he was starting his car up, i hadn't been in this car yet. i knew that he got it as a gift for his win in austin, i had attended the race and he had excitedly told me about the car once we got home in monaco but i never got the chance to sit in it until now.
"this one is a bit noisier, amour. i apologize," charles had said when the engine rumbled to life, i had settled into the seat as he drove off into the night of monaco, his phone had connected to the bluetooth automatically and his playlist was in the background, serving good ambience in the car.
"i love spending time like this, just the two of us, not really driving to anywhere meaningful," i had spoken up, breaking the previous comfortable silence the both of us were in, charles glanced at me before humming a response, eyes back on the road shortly.
monaco was a small city, but i noticed that charles had taken a particularly familiar track, it was the monaco grand prix track, where he had won earlier this year.
"i'm sorry," another apology leaves his lips, i turn my head to look at him, he didn't have to apologize. i forgave him after he got home, but i appreciated it, "i should've paid more attention, i know how important dates are to you. i should've set a reminder."
"i told you that it's okay, i'm not holding anything against you," i tell him softly, his hand instinctively reaches out for my knee and i let him, setting my hand above his as his thumb gently caresses my knee.
the both of us had spent most of that night going in circles, going on the familiar monaco track, it was almost 3am when charles had decided to go back home. the night drive we spent together was nice, it was peaceful. i loved it.
it wasn't long after the both of us had settled into our apartment, getting ready for bed.
i had sat in my vanity, just doing skincare with charles opting to sit on the floor, his head laid on my lap as i went through the steps for my night routine, my hand periodically going down to pat his head.
"we can go for dinner tomorrow, i have nothing planned," charles mumbles, leaving a kiss on my thigh, i nod, dinner was fun, considering that today's was left untouched.
i could feel his head lift up from my thigh, so i looked down and i saw him staring up at me, with all the love in his eyes, i just smiled at him, "what's wrong love?"
"nothing, i just... i'm sorry. i feel bad. i love you— i love us. i just can't believe that i could forget our anniversary so easily like that," charles mumbled, i pet his head again, i had told him countless of times in the car ride that i didn't hold any ill-intent against him for forgetting. his job was demanding, and something like that could've easily slipped his mind.
although i did feel hurt, he's trying to make it up to the best of his abilities now, and that's all i could ask for.
"how many times have i told you to stop apologizing?" i had told him before standing up, he did the same and the both of us made our way to the bed, snuggling up against eachother.
my head was against his chest and his face was in my hair, softly breathing in and out. i could tell he was tired but still went out to drive with me anyway.
"i love you, amour."
"i love you too charles."
"let's go to dinner tomorrow, okay? i'll make it up to you," charles pressed a gentle kiss onto my forehead and i could only hum back in return, i had my eyes closed and i was close to drifting off to sleep considering it was nearing 4 am at this point.
"okay, goodnight. sleep well."
"goodnight to you too mon amour."
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x yn#leclarifies fics#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1#f1 x you#f1 x yn#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc angst
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An Unexpected Friendship pt 2
Master List
Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children
Warnings/Trigger Warnings: mention of domestic violence, mention of character death,
A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309. In this story the reader is a widow who has a 4 year old daughter. She’s dating a very abusive man, so she enrolls her daughter in preschool to keep her as shielded as possible. At the preschool we find her daughter has made friends with a set of twins. At pick up one day the reader realizes the parent of her daughter’s best friend is none other than Jensen Ackles. A friendship forms, and decisions are made after a particularly nasty fight with her boyfriend.
No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.
This chapter got a bit long….sorry.
Minors DNI 18+
Jensen arrived home late. Jared was sleeping on the couch when he came inside. “Hey Jar, wake up man.” Jensen said quietly. Jared stretched, “Oh hey man. How’s Y/N?”
Jensen’s head hung slightly, “Not good man. He almost killed her. She’s in a medically induced coma because he beat her up so badly.” Jared’s mouth fell open, “Damn man. I’m sorry to hear that. How’s her daughter?” “She’s okay. She’s going to be staying with Y/N’s best friend.” “That’s good. At least she has someone she knows.” “Yeah, she’s friends with Arrow and Zep. They are in the same class, I just wish there was more I could do to help both of them. I know Arrow and Zep really like Jazmyne.”
“Well man, thanks for watching the kids for me, you should head home.” “Yeah, of course, and Jensen, I do hope Y/N’s gonna be okay. No one deserves what she went through.” Jensen just nodded in agreement, his words caught in his throat as he thought about how she looked in the bed. He had never understood how someone could do that to another person. It upset him, and made him so angry.
After Jared left, Jensen crawled into bed. He had to be up in a few hours to take the kids to school. He tossed and turned most of the night. His heart ached for Y/N and Jazmyne. The fear in her voice when she called him, the look on Jazmyne’s face and how she clung to him, and how bruised and battered you looked in the bed. All of it playing like a record in his head.
He finally fell asleep for what felt like ten minutes before his alarm went off. Jensen grumbled as he turned off the alarm and crawled out of bed. He jumped in the shower and got dressed.
Walking through the quiet house his mind drifted to his late wife. She was not only an amazing wife and mother, but an amazing person. She would volunteer at JJ’s school, while juggling working at the brewery, other projects she worked on, and holding down the household while Jensen was away filming. When she got pregnant with the twins after years of trying, her and Jensen were ecstatic. She went to every appointment, asked every question she could think of and made sure they were ready to bring home not one, but two newborns.
When she died during their birth, Jensen’s soul was crushed. His arms full with their newborns, but empty at the same time. Family and friends rallied around him to help with all three children, but he was lost. His wife, his partner, the love of his life, was gone.
He didn’t know why Jazmyne’s father wasn’t in the picture, but he was sure it had to be something significant. Now you were dealing with Robert and his abusive nature. Jensen didn’t understand why he felt so protective of you so quickly. He hardly knew you.
About an hour after he got up the kids were awake and ready for school. He took JJ to school first and then the twins to school. Walking towards the entrance he saw Jazmyne and Nichole. The twins ran to Jazmyne and Jensen chuckled.
“Good morning Jazzy and Nichole. How are you two today?” Jazmyne’s eyes went wide when she saw Jensen. Nichole offered a soft smile. “Hey, can I talk to you after drop off?” Nichole asked Jensen. “Of course. I wanted to talk to you too.” They walked the kids in and agreed to meet at the coffee shop around the corner to talk.
Once at the coffee shop, Jensen got the coffees and Nichole grabbed a table. “Hey, thanks for meeting with me. I just wanted to tell you thank you for everything last night. I’m sure it wasn’t how you expected to spend your evening. I’m sure by now you know Y/N was in an abusive relationship with a guy named Robert. She ended it with him and he came back. I feel so guilty for not doing everything I could to get him away from her. He didn’t start out hitting her. Then she’d show up with bruises and marks. Her late husband, Josh, would never have laid his hands on her.”
Jensen sat there listening and taking in everything she was saying. “So how did Josh pass?” Jensen finally asked. “When Jazzy was almost 2 he got hurt in an accident at work and was killed. I didn’t think Y/N would ever recover. He was the love of her life. She got so depressed and lonely we thought we were going to lose her too. Then one day we showed up and she was up and smiling. I know she was putting on a show for us, but I think eventually she got a little better. It took us forever to convince her to go out on a date, and then she ended up with this jackass.”
“I’m so sorry to hear she lost her husband. I lost my wife when she gave birth to the twins. I’m still not over it completely and I don’t think I ever will be. Is there anything I can do to help Y/N, Jazzy or you?”
“Honestly, you being there for her and Jazzy is great. I’d definitely like to plan that play date. Jazzy is going to need as much support as possible. She’s going to miss Y/N and she won’t understand why she can’t see her.”
“Yeah, I get it. Hopefully she heals quickly enough and Jazzy can see her. I know they are very close.”
After about thirty minutes, Jensen and Nichole parted ways. Nichole was headed to Y/N’s house to get some things for Jazmyne, Jensen was headed to the hospital.
Walking down the cool hallway, the air thick with the unmistakable smell of a hospital, Jensen’s heart pounded in his chest. Since he lost his wife, hospitals always brought back some anxiety. So being here brought it all back.
Jensen stood outside your room for a minute. He took a steady breath and started to open the door when a nurse approached him. “Um excuse me, are you family?” Jensen turned and he saw a flash of recognition in the nurse’s face. “Oh hi, yeah. I’m her boyfriend.”
The nurse’s face flashed with anger and panic. “I don’t think I can let you in her room, sir.” She said looking up at Jensen. Jensen knew what she was thinking, “Oh no ma’am, I’m not the one who did that to her. That was her ex, Robert.” “Still, I need to check with the police officer before I let you in.”
“Yes ma’am, I understand that. I’ll wait here.” Jensen gestured towards the empty chair outside your room. She nodded and walked towards the desk.
Jensen saw her look over at him while she was on the phone. Then he saw her nod and hang up. She walked over, offered an apologetic smile, “Thank you for waiting, Mr. Ackles. You’re cleared to go in. I’m sorry.” Jensen stood and smiled, “No problem ma’am. I appreciate you keeping her safe.”
She nodded and Jensen walked into your room. He took the chair closest to you and reached for your hand. Taking your hand in his, he rubbed soft circles on the back of your hand while he talked to you. “Hey, Y/N. I just want you to know Jazzy is safe. Nichole is keeping her and I’ve told her if they need anything to let me know. They are still looking for Robert. There’s a warrant out for his arrest, so hopefully they catch him soon. I wish I could make all this go away and you and Jazzy were safe. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
Without thinking, Jensen stood, leaned over your bed and placed a kiss on your forehead. He felt a pull towards you and it scared him, because he hardly knew you.
You had been in the hospital for a little over a week. It was late at night and Jensen was getting ready for bed when his phone rang. “Hello?” Jensen said cautiously. “Oh hey, Jensen it’s Nichole. I really hate to ask you, but could you watch Jazzy. I just got an emergency phone call from my sister. I have to go out of town for a few days. Y/N has no other family here and I don’t know what to do.”
Jensen immediately said yes. “Yeah, can you bring her over here? The kids are already in bed. I can get her set up in my guestroom for now.” “Oh Jensen, you’re amazing. Thank you. I am so sorry for this. I know you’ve been pulled into this whole situation and now I’m dumping Jazzy off on you.”
“Hey, Nichole, you’re not dumping her off on me. I offered and told you if you needed anything to let me know. I’m fine with it as long as you think Y/N will be too.” “Oh yeah, she would. Can you send me your address? We could be there in less than 30 minutes.” “Yeah, sure. The gate code is 05301202. Just shoot me a text and I’ll make sure I’m downstairs to help you bring her in.” “Thanks, Jensen. See you soon.”
Jensen walked into the guest room and sighed. He had forgotten it was full of boxes and things he needed to donate but hadn’t had time. He didn’t want to wake the twins up so he decided to make a bed on the floor of his room.
A few minutes later he got a text from Nichole that she was there. He went downstairs and opened the door. She was carrying Jazzy, who was sleeping in her arms. “Want me to take her?” He asked. Nichole shook her head. Jensen carefully took the sleeping child out of Nichole’s arms and carried her upstairs. He laid her down on the floor bed and covered her up.
Walking back downstairs he helped Nichole bring in Jazzy’s things.
“Jensen, thank you again for helping. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. My flight leaves in about an hour so I can’t stay long. Please keep me updated on everything with Y/N. I’ve already called the hospital and told them to contact you with any updates. I’ll be in and out of the hospital back home helping and dealing with my grandmother.” Jensen placed his hand on Nichole’s arm, “It’s fine, you go take care of your family, I’ve got your girls. I promise.” She hugged Jensen and then left.
Jensen crept upstairs and checked on all the kids before crawling into bed. He heard Jazzy’s soft snores and occasional whimper. His heart hurt for her. He knew she missed her mom. His children would do the same thing in their sleep, especially around special days, like birthdays or Mother’s Day.
Jensen finally fell asleep after having his mind race for what felt like forever. When his alarm went off he carefully got up and looked over at Jazmyne. She was still sleeping, and curled into a ball. He grabbed his stuff and tiptoed to the bathroom to get ready.
As he came out he saw the little girl stir awake. Her eyes wide, taking in the room. “Mommy?” Her little voice filled the quiet room. “Hey Jazzy, Auntie Nichole had to bring you here. She had an emergency. You’re going to stay with me, Arrow, Zeppy and JJ until your mommy is better.” She looked at Jensen and nodded. “Like a sleepover?” She asked. Jensen smiled softly, “Yeah, sweetie, like a sleepover.”
A few hours later Jensen found himself back at the hospital sitting beside your bed. The nurses would come in and check on you and him. He would tell them he was fine and didn’t need anything when they asked. Finally the doctor came in and Jensen was out of his chair. He extended his hand, “Hello Dr. Fitzpatrick. It’s good to see you this morning. How’s she healing?” Jensen asked as he gestured to you. “Good morning Mr Ackles, she seems to be healing. We are going to draw some blood this morning and do some scans. See if she’s healed enough to start taking her off the sedation medication.” “That sounds perfect, thank you doctor.”
The nurse came in and drew some blood while Jensen watched on. He sent Nichole a text to check on her and let her know what the doctor said. She didn’t respond yet, so he figured she was busy. He hoped the next time he sent her a text it was to let her know you were awake and okay.
Jensen waited in the room for you to return from the tests. A few hours had passed and they were finally bringing you back in. He had been talking to Jared off and on all day. Jensen even called Clif to get some advice on how to keep you and Jazzy protected.
He was on the phone with Jared when the technician was wheeling you back in. “Yeah, she’s back now. Hang on a sec, Jar.” The tech told Jensen the doctor would review all the tests and be in shortly to go over it. Jensen nodded and thanked him.
“Well that sounds promising, I hope she’s going to be okay. Are you leaving soon to get the kids?” Jared asked. “Yeah. I’ll leave in about an hour. I hope the doctor is here before then.” “Hey, Jensen, why don’t we bring the kids over and we can all eat dinner and the kids can play together. I think that would be good for Jazmyne and you won’t be alone.” “That sounds great, Jar. What can I do or buy?” “Nothing, Gen and I will take care of everything.” “Okay, thanks brother.” “Yeah, no problem, and if you need us to grab the kids we can.” “Okay, thanks. Talk to you soon.”
Jensen sat beside your bed, holding your hand. He watched your chest rise and fall, and listened to the steady beep of the machines. Jensen felt drawn to you. It confused but excited him. He’d never felt an instant connection with someone, an instant need to protect them. Like he does with you. Even with his late wife it took him a while to open up.
There was a soft knock on the door that pulled Jensen out of his thoughts. It was Dr. Fitzpatrick. “Good afternoon Mr. Ackles. So I’ve reviewed her blood work and the scans we took. There isn’t any internal bleeding, no injuries to her brain and her ribs and other broken bones are starting to heal. I don’t see why we can’t start bringing her out of sedation. We can start the process immediately. She still has a long road to recovery, and will need to stay here at least another day or two, but I believe she’s going to be okay.”
Jensen smiled, stood and shook the doctor’s hand. He called Jared and told him what the doctor said, “Jar, I really want to be here. Do you or Gen mind grabbing the kids from school. I’ll call the headmaster and let her know you can get Jazzy too. I really appreciate it man.” “Hey, no problem. I’m glad she’s going to be coming back soon.” “Me too, thanks again Jared.”
Jensen sent Nichole a text to let her know what the doctor said. She replied that she was excited and to give you her love.
Jensen sat right beside you as the sedation medication was removed. They told him it could take a few minutes or a few hours for you to start waking up. He nodded and kept watch.
When you began to stir about an hour later and your eyes started to flutter, Jensen was on the edge of the seat. “Hey, Y/N. That’s right sweetheart, open those eyes for us.” Jensen encouraged.
Your eyes fluttered open and confusion began to fill you. Your voice was very weak, but you managed to speak. “Jjjensen, what are you doing here?” He stepped closer to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, “Hey, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re awake. You’ve been missed.” “How long have I been out?” “Over a week, but don’t worry Jazzy has been well taken care of. Nichole had a family emergency so I offered to take her. The twins have loved having her at the house.”
Tears filled your eyes, “Why are you being so kind to us?” “Because that’s what you do when someone needs help.” Jensen smiled gently at you. “So, Y/N, how are you feeling?” “I’m very sore, and just heartbroken. I can’t believe I let him in our lives. My sweet girl had to see some of the abuse. I’m so stupid and weak. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, so I allowed this monster into our lives. How do I keep her safe when I can’t keep myself safe?”
“You tell her that some people are just mean and those people will try and find your weakness. You work like hell to protect yourself, and when you can’t, you lean on those that can. You tell her that there are more kind people in this world than there are mean ones. Those are the people she needs to surround herself with. People like her mother. People who would do anything to keep her safe and protect her from evil. No matter what. Y/N, you’re not weak or stupid for letting someone like Robert in your life. You’re human, and Jazzy will see that. Above all she will see your strength, the strength to make him leave and then fight like hell to survive and stay here for her.”
Your tears were flowing down your face at Jensen’s words. When he took your hand in his, and wiped away your tears, you leaned into his touch. He was so kind and gentle. Everything you’d heard he was.
The next few days you had to stay in the hospital were brutal. You’d asked Jensen not to bring Jazzy to see you there. You didn’t want her to see you weak and hooked up to things. He kept her at his house and you got to FaceTime her at night.
The last night of your hospital stay you were feeling excited to leave, but even more nervous. You’d be going home, and Robert was still out of jail. The police hadn’t been able to track him down and that scared you. Jensen assured you that you and Jazzy would be safe.
After your FaceTime call with Jazzy, you settled in to try and sleep. Jensen was busy getting all four kids ready for bed. The twins and Jazzy were running around and playing, while JJ was picking out the book for the night.
After baths, brushed teeth, and pajamas, Jensen had all four kids pile in his bed so he could read.
After the story was over Zep asked when Y/N was coming home. “Well, she gets to go home tomorrow. I know she’s really excited about it.” “Daddy, since Jazzy lives here now is her mommy coming here too?” Zeppelin asked with his big eyes twinkling. “No, Zeppy. Jazzy doesn’t live here. She’s just been staying here.” All four children’s faces hung in sadness. Jensen chuckled, “Oh come on guys, you knew Jazzy was just staying here while her mommy was getting better.” “We know daddy, but we want her to stay forever.” Arrow added to the conversation. Jensen sighed, “Okay guys, we will talk about this later. It’s time for bed. Come on.”
The kids got into their beds and fell asleep quickly. Jensen sent you a text.
Jensen: Hey, the kids are asleep, they were upset Jazzy isn’t going to live here forever. 😂
You: Hey, that’s funny. Maybe we can schedule playdates and sleepovers if that’s okay with you. I know Jazzy would love it.
Jensen: I was thinking the same thing. 😀
You: Good. I owe you so much for taking care of her and being here for me.
Jensen: No you don’t. If I was in the same situation I have no doubt you would do the same thing.
You: Oh absolutely. I adore your children. They are so sweet and kind to Jazzy.
Jensen: I’ve definitely tried. It’s been hard, but I’ve had some great support.
You: That’s amazing. So can I ask you something?
Jensen: Sure
You: If I’m out of line or you’re uncomfortable, just tell me, okay?
Jensen: Of course.
You: After your wife passed away how long was it until you started dating again?
Jensen: I went on a few dates, I’d say about 2 years after she died. Nothing worked out, but that doesn’t mean I’m not open to it. My focus is on the kids, so if it happens it happens.
You: I understand that. Robert was the first guy I dated since Josh died. I was scared to let someone in, and now I’m sitting in the hospital because of him.
Jensen: I get that, but you can’t let him ruin your chance at happiness again. You and Jazzy deserve to be loved and taken care of.
You: Thank you, Jensen. So do you and your beautiful children.
Jensen: Thank you. I’ll come pick you up from the hospital tomorrow when you get released and take you home if you want me to.
You: I appreciate that, Jensen. I could always take an Uber to get home.
Jensen: Absolutely not. I’ll pick you up and drive you wherever you want to go.
You: Okay, well I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Jensen.
Jensen: See you tomorrow, and good night, Y/N. Sweet dreams.
You: Sweet dreams, Jensen.
Jensen put his phone down and climbed into bed. He looked down at the little girl sleeping on the makeshift bed and smiled softly. His heart warmed thinking about her and her mother being in his and his children’s lives. The two of you were already starting to mean something to him. He couldn’t shake the feeling, the need to protect both of you, to be with you.
Jensen laid down and sleep finally washed over him. About 3am he was startled awake by the sound of crying. He leaped out of bed and found Jazmyne crying in her sleep. She woke up, saw Jensen and leaped in his arms.
Jensen sat on the floor holding her and rubbing her head while he rocked her. “Shhh, Jazzy. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Jazmyne’s hands clung to his shirt and her face was buried in his chest. She continued crying and whimpered out “mommy”. Jensen’s heart broke.
“Mommy’s okay, baby girl. She’s going to come home tomorrow and she can’t wait to see you.” Jazmyne shook her head no. Jensen was a little confused, “What’s no, baby girl?” “I not go home. Mommy not go home. He hurt mommy there.” It made sense to Jensen. She was scared to go back home because that’s where Robert had been when he hurt you.
“Shh, baby. I promise you I will keep you and mommy safe.” Jensen said as he rocked the scared little girl. She clung to his shirt and wouldn’t let go. He tried to lay her down on her bed and she cried and held on tighter. He stood, holding her close and laid her down on his bed. He grabbed her stuffy and handed it to her, and laid down. As he got comfortable, Jazmyne curled up beside him. Soon her soft snores filled the room. Jensen drifted back to sleep.
The next day after Jensen got the kids to school, he arrived at the hospital to wait for you to be released. “Good morning, sweetheart.” Jensen said as he walked into your room. You looked up, smiled and said, “Good morning to you too. Here to bust me out?” You chuckled. “Absolutely.” Jensen flashed his killer smile.
The nurse came in not long after Jensen arrived. She unhooked your IV and the cardio machine. “Go ahead and get dressed, and I’ll get your discharge paperwork together.” You nodded and Jensen stepped to the side of the bed. “Let me help you up.” He said offering you his hand.
You took his hand and as you stood, you stumbled and he caught you. Looking up into his eyes your breath hitched and you bit your lip. Feeling your heart beat wildly in your chest. You steadied yourself and thanked him softly. He nodded as you walked into the bathroom.
You looked in the mirror and saw your battered and bruised face and body. Oh my god. Look at me. Get it together Y/N, there is no way that gorgeous man out there could ever look at you in any way other than a friend, especially now.
You tried to push the thoughts of wanting to kiss Jensen out of your head and get dressed. Your body was in so much pain and covered in bruises, it hurt to even breathe. You wondered how you’d be able to take care of Jazzy, especially with Nichole out of town. You took a deep breath, you knew you’d figure it out.
About an hour and half later you and Jensen were at your house. You had no idea what you’d find when you got there, but you were surprised to find out that after the police finished with their investigation Nichole came and cleaned up the house for you.
Jensen helped you to the couch and you sat down. He could tell something was bothering you, but didn’t want to push. Then your tears started to fall.
Jensen pulled you in his arms, “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay. You and Jazzy are safe. I promise. I’ll keep you two safe.” You leaned back and looked at Jensen, his green eyes scanning you. He cupped your face and wiped your tears away. You leaned into his touch.
Without any thought you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. When your brain finally caught up to what you were doing you quickly pulled away. Flush filled your cheeks, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry Jensen. I don’t know what came over me.”
You started to get off the couch but he touched your hand, “No, Y/N, please don’t go. That was fine. You have nothing to be sorry about.” His hand on your arm felt so good. You looked at him, sat back down and apologized again.
“Jensen, you’ve been nothing but kind to me and Jazzy. I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position. I really don’t know what came over me.” Jensen leaned forward, his eyes flicked between your lips and eyes. You leaned forward until your lips ghosted each other’s. Jensen closed the rest of the distance and kissed you. His hand tangled into your hair as he deepened the kiss. Jensen’s tongue ran across your lips, asking for entrance. You parted your lips and your tongues began an intricate dance of dominance.
You moaned into the kiss and felt fire ignite in your body. You hadn’t had a kiss like this since Josh. When the need for air became too much, the two of you pulled away. “Wow.” Was all Jensen could say. You smiled and nodded. As he started to lean back in to kiss you there was a knock at the door.
Jensen groaned and stood to answer it. He looked back at you and smiled before he opened the door. You smiled back, but as soon as he opened the door your smile was replaced by a look of horror.
Jensen turned to look at the person at the door as you said, “Robert.”
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He counts Buck as part of his joy 🩶
Q. I will admit that I misread the ship I attached myself too but I think you all are doing the same thing. Eddie and Buck have barely spoken this season let alone appear to be close to figuring out life changing feelings for one another. I think you all are playing yourselves as well. Just a heads up. And call backs are inevitably going to be repeated given how long the show has been on. These callbacks are coincidental nothing more.
A. Most of their dialogue for the season so far was in episode 5 so I'll agree that their conversations have been minimal for them, but that was very clearly an intentional choice and we got the answer as to why in episode 6. Eddie has been denying himself things that bring him joy. Eddie has been punishing himself. There is a long established history of Eddie enjoying and being endeared by Buck's ramblings. Eddie likes to listen to Buck talk. That is a canon fact. And while they haven't had that much dialogue the show has still made a point of giving them at least one scene together in every episode. We have also seen Eddie looking at and too Buck numerous times. These have almost certainly now been intentional choices. Eddie doesn't want to allow himself his normal with Buck but he's still letting himself look at Buck. Some part of Eddie KNOWS. I think a growing number of people believe that.
And yes calls will be repeated to an extent but they're not 'accidentally' only repeating Buck and Eddie calls. That's a deliberate writing choice. We just don't know why yet. To me it still feels like he's trying to redo the season 5 he wanted without outright repeating it episode for episode. The season has been too similar to 5 so far to be a coincidence. And I don't think anyone is close to admitting or acknowledging anything yet. I think we'll get some kind of cliffhanger with one of them in the mid season finale and a think or nod to the other realizing it or acknowledging something in that moment but I think the first part of 8b will be used as a build up. Episode 118 looks more and more likely every day. And the break will absolutely be promoted using them and what might happen. Their follow numbers, streaming numbers and trending numbers all increased following episode 5. The show clearly has a plan. We haven't misread anything, anon.
Thank you Nonny!
Yep, yep and yep. I don't think anything is coincidental on a TV-show. Everything has meaning. They only have a short amount of time to tell a full story, so a lot of the signs are there, but they're in the background or a part of the decor or clothing.
And when you watch the show long enough, you start to notice patterns and little subtle nudges and hints.
I will most certainly be rewatching 8a during hiatus and see if I can pick up on the little things I might have missed and that haven't been discussed yet.
I agree, the show clearly has a plan.
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Symbol on the Surface Chapter 11
WC: 1,7k
Relationship: SwissAlps
Tags: Transmasc Swiss, Pregnancy, Miscarriage Scare, Blood, Medical Setting, Vaginal Examination, Ultrasound, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pack Dynamics, Cuddle Pile
Mountain can’t bring himself to say that everything will be okay, now, because…well, there’s a chance nothing will be okay.
Notes: Tysm to @jimothybarnes for beta reading :3
Chapter 1 here or on AO3.
Read chapter 11 under the cut or on AO3.
Mountain wakes up to a cold and…wet feeling on his thigh. He yawns and pats around for his phone, seeing Swiss is still sleeping peacefully with a leg thrown over the earth ghoul’s hip.
He uses his phone to shine a gentle light under the covers, so he can see what the wetness is. Mountain’s stomach drops when he sees blood.
He’s seconds away from a panic attack already, his mind being flooded with horrible scenarios of what it could mean, but there’s no time for that now—he has to be strong for Swiss and get him to Omega, now.
“Swiss? Swiss, my heart, wake up,” despite the circumstances Mountain is still gentle in his attempt to wake his mate up, “wake up, darling.”
“Wh–what? What is it, m’love?” the other grumbles, shuffling and clinging more to the other.
“You’re bleeding, darling, come on,” Mountain urges him. “Sit up.”
“What? I’m wha–oh no,” Swiss’ voice cracks and it trails out into a whine once he feels the blood between his legs. “Oh no. No, no, no…”
“Let’s not panic,” the earth ghoul whispers, but it doesn’t feel right—especially considering he’s on the verge himself. He leans in to give Swiss a kiss, hopefully one at least a little calming, before he pulls away again. “Get up and I’ll give Omega a call.”
The multi ghoul nods and crawls out of the nest with his face twisted in a terrified grimace. He wraps himself up in a blanket—his bottom lip wobbling as he does—while Mountain grabs his phone and dials Omega’s emergency twenty-four seven number. He picks up after the first signal.
“Hello?” he sounds awake, that must mean he is on shift in the infirmary. “What’s wrong?”
“Swiss is bleeding, we’re on our way,” Mountain says and doesn’t wait for a reply before hanging up and throwing the phone onto the bed. He turns to Swiss and musters up a smile—supposed to be a reassuring one—as he picks him up carefully. Once his mate is secured in the earth ghoul’s arms he all but storms out of the room.
The multi ghoul hides his face in his mate’s neck and lets his tears of fear flow.
“Mounty, I’m scared,” he cries against Mountain, shaking a little in his hold.
“I know, my heart,” the earth ghoul whines, “I am, too.”
He can’t bring himself to say that everything will be okay, now, because…well, there’s a chance nothing will be okay.
It feels both excruciatingly long and no more than a split second until Swiss hears the squeak of the heavy infirmary doors and finally lifts his head. Mountain barges in with no regard to anything or anyone in there, seeing Omega is already waiting by one of the beds.
“He’s bleeding,” the earth ghoul tells him again, as if he can’t believe that it’s really happening. He can’t; doesn’t want to. “Omega, he’s bleeding.”
“Up on the bed, underwear off and legs in the stirrups,” Omega orders, wasting no time. “Mountain, bring the ultrasound machine up here, it’s in the corner.”
He and Swiss oblige and in the short meantime the quintessence ghoul puts on gloves and grabs a speculum. Swiss rips his underwear off and gets his legs up as Mountain goes to fetch the machine. He doesn’t even notice how his aggressive instincts don’t rear their heads; it’s something else that matters now.
Omega goes straight to it—he isn’t as gentle as he’d like as he’s examining Swiss, but he wants to be fast with that one. Nothing looks damaged or even out of the ordinary down there, so the quintessence moves onto the ultrasound as soon as Mountain brings it close. Swiss jumps at the coldness of the gel, but he’s too much of an emotional wreck worrying about his kits to care.
“They’re okay,” Omega says as soon as he’s confident in what he’s seeing on the ultrasound and feeling with his quintessence. Swiss lets out a loud sob of relief.
“Are you sure?” Mountain asks.
“Yes,” the quintessence ghoul confirms, “I’m sure. All three of your kits are absolutely fine.”
“Why–why was I–” Swiss cries. Mountain kneels by him and lets his mate curl into him.
“Some bleeding is normal at this stage, especially if you’ve experienced stress,” Omega explains, “and I’ve heard about what happened with Aeon yesterday. Have you maybe hit your abdomen, too?”
“I…I might have. It all happened so quickly, I fell to my knees by Aeon and–it hurt a little…I should’ve–I should’ve said, I should’ve come here, I–”
“It’s okay. They’re okay, Swiss. You’ve done nothing wrong and your kits are alright.”
“So we’ve just…overreacted?” the earth ghoul asks. “By far?”
“Yes and no. I’ve told you this is a dangerous pregnancy and bleeding is always worrying.” Omega pulls back and takes off his gloves. “I’m glad you came and that everything is okay, but you need to relax now, Swiss. More stress isn’t going to help, you need to calm down.”
Swiss nods again; he knows the quintessence ghoul is right.
Omega disappears in his office for a second and comes back with a pack of wet wipes and a fresh pair of underwear with a pad put onto it, even though it seems Swiss is not bleeding anymore, before leaving again to give them some privacy. Mountain silently asks for permission to clean Swiss up, and the multi ghoul nods—now crying heavily in relief, but also overwhelm and guilt.
His mate is gentle as he runs the wipes along the inside of Swiss’ thighs and his vulva—the multi ghoul tries to breathe through it and just stop crying, but it seems like an impossible task for now. When Mountain’s done he slides the underwear up Swiss’ legs and wraps their blanket around him again before helping him off the bed.
Omega hears them and comes back. “Come back for a check-up in a few days when you’ve recovered from the stress. Go back to bed now and stay there.”
“Proper bedrest?” Mountain asks just to be sure.
The quintessence ghoul confirms, “Doctor’s orders.”
It doesn’t make Swiss smile, and that only shows how badly he’s taking this.
“They’re okay,” Omega repeats once again, hoping Swiss will hear him this time. “Goodnight.”
“Thank you, I don’t know what we’d do without you,” Mountain mumbles and Swiss mouths out the same words. The quintessence ghoul sends a crooked smile their way as he watches them turn and walk away.
Their love is something else, really. It’s something…tangible. Omega is always amazed by the way he can feel it around them.
“Oh, and, boys,” he calls out after them, just before they reach the door, “it’s okay to cry, to be emotional. I know how terrifying it must’ve been.”
Swiss and Mountain both nod in acknowledgement before rounding the corner. Swiss is dragging his feet, putting the majority of his body weight on his mate.
He is so tired.
He can’t stop crying and desperately clutching his stomach—he doesn’t really want to stop.
“It’s alright, my heart,” Mountain breathes out, and even though this time it is the truth, it still feels unsuitable. “They’re okay, and we’re okay.”
Swiss’ breath hitches and he chokes a little on his tears, but he nods. He nods, because he has to make himself believe it, or he’ll lose his mind and harm his kits more than he already considers him to have.
The walk back from the infirmary through the darkness of the Abbey’s corridors is dreadful, but finally they reach the familiar warmth of the Den.
“Let’s go grab a glass of water from the kitchen, alright?” Mountain offers, even though they’re both exhausted and need to get back into bed and rest as soon as possible—especially Swiss. “Maybe even some tea to help you relax.”
“Okay,” the multi ghoul mumbles, still hanging off of Mountain’s arm. He can’t bear the thought of letting go of his mate now. The pair shuffles over to the commons, but comes across something they absolutely did not expect.
Their whole pack is up and bustling about in dim light.
“What are you…?” Mountain goes to ask, taking in the huge nest their pack has apparently set up in the middle of the room.
“Omega called Aether and said the kits are okay, but you two need some support,” Cirrus explains.
“I woke up the rest and a cuddle pile is the first thing that came to mind,” Aether chimes in.
“It’s four a.m., you didn’t have to–” Swiss sniffles, trying to protest, but Dewdrop cuts him off.
“We’re family,” the fire ghoul says sternly.
“And we’re here for you,” Rain finishes for him.
“Always,” Aeon adds with a smile and a knowing look towards Mountain.
“Thank you,” is all Swiss and Mountain can say. There are no words in the whole wide world to express how grateful they are for their pack and how much they love them.
“Now,” Cumulus speaks up, “it is four a.m., so everyone get their ass into the nest and we’re going back to sleep.”
Her words make giggles sound out in the room—even from Mountain and Swiss. She’s right, though, and so one by one the ghouls begin to settle down in a pile.
Soon enough everyone is holding onto someone; Swiss and Mountain end up in the very middle, with Aeon behind the earth ghoul and Aurora behind Swiss. Mountain feels some tension inside him at the proximity of everyone to his pregnant mate, but when one by one the pack starts purring, his instincts calm.
His body and mind—heart and soul—know that nobody here would ever hurt Swiss or their kits.
Neither he nor the multi ghoul can fall asleep for a while; they cry silently for hours, holding tightly onto each other amongst their packmates with their hands interlocked over the multi ghoul’s stomach; over their kits.
They’re alright. They’re still alive and growing strong, but these moments when it was all uncertain were truly unbearable.
Swiss and Mountain already can’t imagine a life without their babies.
Taglist: @arkeusruin @skele-bunny @everybodyshusband @ratsummer @jazz-bazz @mac-and-thefox @karmicbias @wine-irytatus
#hypnone writes#the band ghost#nameless ghouls#swiss ghoul#mountain ghoul#swissalps#symbol on the surface#cw pregnancy
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What's your most hated Bummy scene?? I'll tell you mine. It has to be the kiss in the hospital lobby and buck getting outed because of his soot covered mouth. Never hated a 911 episode more than that. I love Buck. They just made a mockery out of him by that scene.
Where do I even start.. Couldn't agree more about the soot scene, although I'm more angry at the writers about that one than I am at Tommy, given how important it was to Buck that he came out to Eddie and Maddie on his own terms and how much weight he gave those interactions I feel like even though that one was supposed to be a cute little "hehe look this is very Buck coded", it fell short in that I would've liked everyone else at the 118 to find out in a more heartfelt way ya know??
In terms of my least favourite(s), the whole arc with billy boils was a very interesting play by the writers in that it highlighted the differences between Eddie and Tommy in a meaningful way. On one hand, Eddie, who has presumably been with Buck in the hospital the whole time he was being treated for his boils, is used to Buck's hyperfixations and Wiki deep dives, and finds them wholesome and cute. I reblogged a post a little bit ago where Buck told Maddie about how her and Chim always finish each others sentences and that theyre basically already dating, and then contrasted with how Eddie was finishing Buck's sentences in that scene. Buddie fanatic aside (I will admit im obsessed with these two idiots), THIS is the kind of domesticity I've always wanted for Buck's partners, where they acknowledge and love those little moments that he has.
Now lets go ahead and look at Tommy's side of this whole thing: Tommy's reaction to seeing the boils + how he treated and viewed Buck's obsession as exactly that, an obsession + the graveyard scene??? You can break it down into "oh well Buddie have known eachother since s2, Bummy have been together 6 months", but from my perspective the fact that Buck didn't even realise Tommy didn't like women until their 6 month anniversary (???) just goes to show that they don't really know that much about one another. Tommy was completely right in the breakup scene; he was definitely not Buck's last, and the poor guy is definitely in need of some self exploration (#letbuckfuck) before I'd be happy to see Buddie honestly (and thats not even considering the work that needs to be done on Eddie, my guy is going through it rn with Chris). Anyway; I just read this amazing fic by playinginthundestorms (on ao3) and I think the way they described Tommy (slightly Tommy bashing), was overall how I imagine he sees Buck. It never really felt like Tommy was fond of these little things Buck does in the way that Eddie (and the rest of the 118) are, more seeing him as childish or juvenile as the fic described. And it makes sense, tommy is older than Buck. A whole other can of worms and probably the icing on the cake for me was the Abby debacle, the misogyny really showed??? like man you have not changed since Hen my lord. Calling Abby out for running off with some "himbo half her age" was wild considering thats what he is currently doing with Buck? Especially with all the shit she had to go through with her mum at the time? Like what on earth is your excuse Temu? Anyway, to cut a long rant short, I actually have given you like 50 reasons, but i definitely think that Tommy was a well placed plot device and it was obvious from the start. Also, ABC could've chosen ANYONE to be Buck's first experience with a man and they were like yep lets use the racist homophobe from Chim and Hen begins cos why not?! I probably would've had a far less negative opinion of him if he was a fresh character, and I think that's on purpose, I think it would be really interesting if they go down the road of hen and chim sharing their experiences with Tommy now that they've broken up, and that they didn't say anything cos they just wanted Buck to be happy. Definitely after that heartfelt scene with Hen especially, that I didn't get cos of that bloody soot scene.
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So, if you all remember the broken-bones lady and the horrible male, I still visit them pretty often! The woman is still recovering, and there's a lot of chores she can't do, I come by to do her shopping, cleaning, moving things around, and sometimes meal prep.
However, a week ago when I went I had ended up in an argument with the horrible male. I wanted to write about it, but the subject was so controversial I got scared that half of you would get mad at me, so I gave up on sharing it. But during that argument, I crossed the line of what a woman is allowed to say to a male, and I said something that then let him know I find myself smarter than him (which I do), and this shocked and infuriated him. He started to openly despise me.
Since then he couldn't look at me or talk to me, he would avert his eyes away from me, and sometimes criticize me on completely inane stuff (you're making too much noise putting the dishes away). I didn't mind that he finally openly hates me, because at least that's honest.
However today I went over to clean, and things took a different turn. I happened to miss a spot while cleaning, and the woman told me he demanded for me to come back and clean it – and I did, happily, saying something like 'oh I didn't see that!' while being perfectly friendly and happy to fix it. I was alone in the room with him. He started on me then. He told me I was being careless, doing worse job every time. That this was only one of my many mistakes and she, his wife, was just too polite to call me out on it. But he would call me out on it every time.
I just laughed him off and said something along the lines of 'Yeah the older I am the more I suck at this! :) you can tell me if I do something wrong sure!' because I refuse to be unnerved by the bullshit criticism, I didn't particularly care if I did a bad job because missing a spot on the floor is so non-consequential – and I immediately fixed it.
But I was starting to feel uncomfortable in there, and I noticed he waited to be alone in a room with me in order to start on me, and I thought, I'm gonna snitch on him. I'm gonna subtly tell his wife what he did. And I went to her with a smile saying 'Hey your husband is mad at me because I do such a bad job! He told me I'm getting worse and making so many mistakes, and you're just too polite to say so.' and she was stunned and then told me the part I didn't know – he intentionally left some trash in the corner under the curtain where I wouldn't see it, in order for me to miss it, so he could call me out on it! And I'm realizing then, that this was a setup, he wanted to get a chance to berate me, and knew I would miss that spot – because it's a place where vacuum cleaner can't reach, so I only clean it every other time, and this time I didn't.
She then told me that it's not about me, he's lately short and difficult with everyone, even she is having problems with him. She explained to me that it's not his fault, it's just that he's sick and she doesn't know what to do. She begged me not to be mad at him.
And I reassured her not to worry, stroked her back as she told me teary eyed about how she struggles to deal with him almost every day. I was pained by the fact that this woman is in an abusive marriage right now and the only thing she's worried about is the opinion of outsiders, of me. It was more serious than I thought, I thought he just hated me, but he hated her too. And she was heartbroken. She insisted he used to be a good m*n, that this was not 'the real him'.
I decided to be more cautious, and to consult with her before saying anything to him at any point, because if I set him off, it's likely she'll be paying the price for it. This became a hostage situation so fast! A moment earlier I was just annoyed that he's hateful to me, but now I have to worry about what he's going to do to his own wife if I dare to argue with him.
I'm again, so tired of the world males have built where they can just do this, and I can't do anything to stop it, or to even say what I want to say without worrying what's going to happen next. That's an insane way to be expected to live! I want to move away from this city and live in nature so badly right now, where I don't have to be involved in this kind of horror. Death to all males who take their shit out on their wives.
#life update#tw abusive marriage#tw abusive males#tw emotional abuse#radical feminism#radfem#i'm upset
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Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 10
Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.
Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications
Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here
WARNING: This is a long chapter
First - Prev - Next
Ch.10
“Do you remember how you came to Gravity Falls in the first place?”
“I was just passing by.”
“Yes, but this town is isolated, and you have no means of transportation.”
“Trainhopping, I was hiding on a train for two days I think, maybe three? Decided to jump off here.”
“Do you know why you decided to do that here, and not anywhere else?”
“...”
“Stan?”
“It’s funny, specs - a couple months back, I’d already been with my pal Rick for a while, right? Just one heist, escapade, or criminal venture after another, for seven months straight. And it was great while it lasted, but then he asked me if I wanted to stay with him in another dim- someplace far away. And I wanted to, ya know? There’s always been this itch in the back of my mind that I wanted to go around the world on some grand adventure, and he was offering that to me on a silver platter. But I told him no.”
“And why was that, Stan?”
“...It’s stupid.”
“I wouldn’t call any of your reasoning stupid, I’m not here to judge you.”
“...I always wanted to go on an adventure- but something was missing. It’s like- I dunno if it’s intuition or some spiritual mumbo jumbo, it’s like I’m looking for something. But I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
“Do you have an idea what it could be?”
“A part of… me? I’m missing something. Not just my memories- but something else. I think I might have made a promise, I just… don’t remember what it was, or who I promised to. I guess I’ve been drifting around trying to find it.”
“And you felt it was in Gravity Falls?”
“I don’t… I don’t know. There’s something weird here… I just wanted to check this place out, is all.”
“I see. What did you say your relationship with this Rick was like?”
“You don’t need to be jealous, F. We were just friends. Okay, maybe we were kind of an item for a week at most, but that guy isn’t just self-destructive; he’s like a train that wrecks onto a freeway, he can never just destroy himself, he has to wreck the people around him too and create an absolute shit show. Even I have a limit with that shit.”
“You really need to stop putting yourself down like that, Stan. You only ever seem to say negative things about yourself, it ain’t good for you.”
“There isn’t anything good to say, stretch.”
“Don’t sell yourself one egg short of a basket, now. Y’know, your-. Uh, Stanford was telling me that you’re quite clever. He used a trick to get you down here in the first place, but he also said that he wouldn’t be able to trick you again.”
“I should have seen his fake-out coming… I’ll give it to him, it was a good one. But I’m not going to underestimate him, because crazy like his should never be underestimated. What’s he up to anyways? He went to that room that’s always locked.”
“That’s his private study. I believe he goes there when he wants to be alone.”
“...Didn’t he live by himself? Why did he already have that?”
“Can’t say, maybe it’s a quiet and calm space for him.”
(...)
“HE HAS RISEN BABY GIRL.”
“Bill, please stop calling me that. It’s unprofessional.”
“Come on Sixer, at least let the Goo Goo Dolls soundtrack play.”
“The what?”
“Ooop! My bad, it’s not 1998 or 2024 yet. How can I help you today, Fordsy? You haven’t called me in a few weeks.”
“There’s a mindscape I need to access.”
“Oh boy, it’s not usually you who wants to poke around other humans' brains, always prattling on about ethics and consent. What’s the occasion?”
“...You know everything I know when we’re in the mindscape, you already know the answer.”
“Yes, but I still want you to say it out loud. Clearly and concisely, so your dialogue can be read on screen.”
“... I need to get into the mind of my brother, Stanley. He has amnesia, and our leading theory is that it’s due to psychological trauma. But he has been through so much trauma we’re having trouble isolating the definitive event that would have started this.”
“And why wouldn’t he just share that with his beloved twin brother?”
“He does not remember me.”
“Oooh, then he is just like you! Isn't it just precious when twins are twinning?”
“I never forgot about him.”
“Oh Sixer… You might as well have.”
“Just take me to his mind, Cipher… Please.”
“Anything for you, baby boy!”
SNAP
(...)
“So your memories are only clear to a certain point?”
“Yeah. Rick found me wandering around the woods in a ‘catatonic state’, and snapped me out of it. Everything before that… I can remember being on the street, I can remember all the stuff I did, maybe out to a decade? But there’s a lot of holes, lotsa different names I used. And before the streets? Nothing.”
“And when did Rick find you in the woods?”
“What month is it?”
“June.”
“Last May - so about 13 months?”
(...)
“Okay Fordsy he hasn’t made a deal with me so we can’t go too deep, or his mental defenses are just gonna shove us out.”
“Bill, I already know that, why are you explaining it to me?”
“You know; doesn’t mean they know. Unless this is a re-read. In which case; welcome back. Glad you loved or hated it the first time.”
“You are… Beyond comprehension, Bill Cipher.”
“That’s what you love about me though.”
“You have my begrudging, professional respect.”
“From your aspec ass, that’s practically love.”
“Aspe-”
“Oooh! Lookie here, a memory door opened up. He must be opening up to someone right now. Let's barge in haphazardly.”
(...)
“Okay Stan, this might be difficult. But if you ever feel distressed, let me know and we can try grounding techniques okay?’
“You got it, F.”
“Now close your eyes, think back to when you and Rick parted ways.”
(...)
“Sanchez?! How does Stan know-.”
“You know this hilarious crossover character? I already know the answer, but for no particular reason I need you to tell me out loud how you know him.”
“His wife Diane was part one of my PhD programs. She was always so bright and pleasant, but her husband was a nightmare when she brought him around. He was always saying that school wasn’t for smart people, and rubbed his inventions and intelligence in our face.”
“And how is she these days?”
“She passed away from a garage fire a few years ago, her and her little girl. I almost sent him a condolences, but he was such an unpleasant asshole I could not make myself do so.”
“Come on Stan- think about it! You, me, Bird Person, Squanchy- sci-fi adventures, drugs, bitches. Whattaya say? Let’s ditch this dimension, there isn’t anything for us here anymore.”
“Dimension-?”
“Shh, Fordsy, just let it play out.”
“I… I can’t Rick.”
“Why not?”
“There’s… something here.”
“Did you remember something?”
“I don’t remember who, but I think I’m looking for someone.”
“Stanny-Boy, we’ve been through this before. No one knows you, everywhere we’ve been, ‘cept for the fake names. You should just cut your losses.”
“Wherever we go, we go together.”
“What was that-?”
“Just the distorted voice of his subconscious. It’s probably not important.”
“I’m sorry. But there’s a piece of me missing, and I think it’s still here in this dimension somewhere.”
“You know your credits don’t have monetary value here.”
“I know.”
“And I can’t leave you a space cruiser. You’ll have to walk or steal a car.”
“Either is fine. I’ve done it before.”
“Stan… Are you sure?”
“Here. Take all my credits, you’ll get more out of it than me.”
“You want your dusters back?”
“Trade me.”
“Wait, you don’t want your transdimensional watch anymore?”
“If the pigs catch me, I don’t need them asking too many questions.”
“You know that doesn’t just give you dimensional coordinates and time zones, right? There’s a pulse wave in it that can shatter force fields.”
“Pft, what are the chances I’d ever need that?”
“Ooof, he really fumbled the bag there.”
“My muse, please.”
*Rick takes the watch and gives Stan a pair of brass knuckles*
“Thanks Rick… Hey, it was nice while it lasted.”
“Hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“I hope you find that bastard, Prime. Give him the hell he deserves.”
“...Stan?”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’ll miss you too, pal.”
(...)
“Alright, how are you feeling Stan?”
“So far so good.”
“Okay, now let’s go further back. You said your first clear memory is when you met him, let’s go back to that.”
“I was in the back of his shi- iiitty car, I felt like I’d just smoked an entire carton of cigarettes, but in a bad way..”
(...)
“It just- stopped?”
“He’s remembering something else. Just look for another door.”
“Here we go.”
“Wha- where…?”
“Oh hey you’re awake.”
“-’re, you?”
“You’re one tough son of a bitch, y’know? Most of the people I tase end up dead, but you just passed out.”
“You… tased me? Are you a cop?”
“Hell no. I tased you because you attacked me in the woods. Damn near ripped my head off.”
“The woods..?”
“You were wandering around in a catatonic state, can’t tell you how long.”
“A what state?”
“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”
“It’s…? I... Malone. Wait. It’s- Stan.”
“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”
(...)
“Stan keep your eyes closed. I want you to try to remember what happened before this.”
“Alright…”
“What’s something you can remember? Something you saw, felt, heard?”
“My chest felt really tight…”
(...)
“What is this?”
“Ahh. A pit memory. This is something his brain wants to forget, but can’t permanently delete.”
“So it is a repressed memory?”
“Yes. He’s trying to think about it… but unconsciously, he really doesn’t want to.”
“What happens if we jump in?”
“Sixer, where's your sense of adventure? If it gets too dangerous I’ll just pull us out.”
“Do you swear?”
“Just gimme the word.”
“Which word?”
“Let’s go with ‘defenestrate’ this time.”
‘W̷̷H̷̷Y̷ ̷I̷̷S̷̷N̷'̷T̷ ̷I̷̷T̷ ̷W̷̷O̷̷R̷̷K̷̷I̷̷N̷̷G̷?! ̷W̷̷H̷̷Y̷-?’
S̷̷C̷̷R̷̷E̷̷E̷̷C̷̷H̷
‘̷C̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷-’
‘̷t̷̷r̷̷a̷̷p̷̷p̷̷e̷̷d̷’
‘̷c̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷ ̷b̷̷r̷̷e̷̷a̷̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷-’
*brief flash of a pile of burnt paper ash in Stan’s hands, which are shaking*
“We can’t stay here Fordsy, he’s closing up again.”
“Just one more second-!”
“Might as well, it’s [--- ---- ------ - ---].”
“[--- ---] going to die here. Stan[--- -------- -----], if you don’t [---- - ---- ---- --] in the next minute you will die.”
“That voice-?”
“We’re leaving now, Sixer! DEFENESTRATE!”
SNAP
(...)
“Stan? Stan calm down-! It’s okay! Remember where you are.”
“C-Can’t breathe-”
“Yes you can, just breathe with me. In- out. In- out. Just like that. There we go.”
“I’m sorry Fiddleford, I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t. ”
To be continued…
#for your own good#early amnesia au#mystery trio#fords evil basement sub-lab#ford isnt a mad scientist hes a sad scientist#gravity falls#cross posted on ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#stanley pines#stan pines#stanford pines#ford pines#fiddleford hadron mcgucket#fiddleford mcgucket#bill cipher#rick sanchez#diane sanchez#past stanchez#fiddlestan#anyone notice that Stan called Fiddleford by his actual name
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Single Wrong Step Away from It - a short smg34 fic
3 has a nightmare but not in the way you'd think. He feels awful about it either way.
Words, about 2.2k I think?
---
He walked down a dark corridor, knowing the sight that would greet him. This had been right underneath the crew’s nose and they were none the wiser. It was an all too familiar man with a television for head, looking at monitors. The room was as dark as his desires. And sinister as their plans, fake as the friendships made along the way, except this one.
“I’m so glad you saw my way, SMG3”
“Well, I oughta” 3 chuckled.
“Especially for the amazing amount of intel you could give me! With the information I possess about SMG4, all because of you, we should be able to take over his channel in no time!”
“And this time, for good, I hope at least”
“You got me this time and I assure you I know how to plan things right”
They shared a chuckle.
“I can almost imagine the face SMG4 will make when he realises that our friendship was anything but real!”
“Oh, you’re truly sinister, SMG3! If I knew earlier we could’ve worked together way way earlier”
“What matters is we’re doing this together now!”
They set out finally, together. They had a foolproof plan. SMG3 knew that SMG4 blindly trusted him at this point, and had him wrapped around his finger. The best possible prey. And 3 was getting ready to pounce.
They were walking in a forest together. Nothing but the sounds of the night with them.
“Hey, 4” 3 called out to 4. The fact that he was called 4 caught him off guard a bit, considering that 3 doesn’t use it for him a lot. It made him smile.
“Yea?”
“I was just thinking…” 3 started, a sort of anxiety making it hard to speak for him. Or at least that was what 4 believed.
“Yeah? I’ll listen, dude”
“I’ve just… I’ve known you for so many years… And you know… we have a lot of great memories together”
“Aaaand?” 4 asked with a smile he couldn’t rub off his face.
“I’ve just you know… realised that maybe… there could be more to it” 3 played being flustered perfectly.
“More to it how?” 4 wasn’t giving it so easy.
“Oh, you’re gonna try and make me say it? Dummy” 3 chuckled.
“Well, would be great if you did… but I think you should know my answer” 4 grabbed 3’s hand.
They both laughed.
“Well… I guess I could say that there’s feelings for you in me that are not hatred or just friends… but something more”
4 giggled.
“Something more you say?”
“I’m not giving you any more hints”
“Don’t think I need anymore” 4 cupped 3’s cheeks.
“Go on then”
4 leaned in, finally giving 3 a kiss. It took one decade and while sweet and lowkey, it felt so earned, so…. So perfect. Such a powerful thing.
“I just wanna say one thing though” 3 said after 4 pulled away.
“Anything” 4 was so lovestruck.
“You should’ve been more careful” 3 smirked, but it wasn’t a nice smirk, it was sinister and it confused and also scared 4.
“What do you mea-” but he couldn’t utter another word, being clapped together between the palms of an all too familiar TV head man. 3 heard the man’s dark laughter. First there was SMG4. Now there wasn’t. Just in a quick swoop, he was no more.
“Genius!” Puzzles applauded 3 “What a perfect setup to get the perfect rating! I approve of your dedication”
“Only the best from the best” 3 chuckled.
“Now to move on to the rest of them..”
~~~
3 woke up. The events in his mind slowly set in. He felt his chest sink. It didn’t actually happen. He wasn’t even the one being betrayed but somehow this felt worse. So much worse. He got out of bed, going to the bathroom to wash of his dream sins. He wished he never even thought about this. He wished he didn’t have such a stupid fear that would haunt him from time to time.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
“Am I truly good?” he asked himself, inspecting himself. Looking at everything wrong about him. There was a lot. He wondered what would happen if he suddenly ended up going that way… Fame was always something that could sway him. He looked deep in the mirror, deep in his eyes, the red in his eyes. He felt confused by it the deeper he looked. Wondering if there was something in him that could break out and he could ruin everything. Lose everything. Make years of friendship look like a joke. He shed a tear. He kept the rest back. He had an urge to cry but it was hard to get out. He wiped his eyes.
He went back to bed and laid down, trying to sleep again. But all that would haunt him was 4 in his dream, looking so confused, not even given the right to process that he was betrayed by him. The look of horror on him that he swore he saw for half a second. It was scary.
He turned and turned, everything felt uncomfortable, along with his thoughts. He felt hot yet cold, his blanket felt strange and uncomfortable, his pillow was anything but welcoming and his bed felt like a trap to put him in a cycle. He sighed as he sat up.
He went up and made himself a nice, warm glass of milk. With a bit of sugar too. While warming it up, still all he could think about was the idea that he was really wasting his time and he could lose everything any moment. That he could easily snap back and ruin everything.
The beeping of the microwave snapped him out of it.
He took it and sat by one of the table, sipping away at it quietly. He looked outside to at least somewhat distract himself. It looked so peaceful outside. After finishing his milk, which he really only made because that would sometimes make him feel better, he instead went outside. Midnight air just hits different…..And it did then as well. It felt refreshing, comfortable in a way. 3 could take in a big breath. Although in the end it wasn’t enough but at least he wasn’t suffocating on his thoughts helplessly.
He looked at the castle, knowing exactly where 4’s room was located. Knowing the layout of the room like the back of his hand, knowing, as he looked there where his bed would be located.
He shook his head. No, he couldn’t bother him then, that’d be so selfish.
“Besides, what would I say to him?” 3 thought out loud “Ooooh, SMG4, can you comfort me? I had a nightmare! I sound so stupid right now”
Just after he said that, he saw 4’s face pop up in his window. He froze. Did… Did 4 hear him? Oh god…
He saw 4 gesture him to come in. 3 sighed, he wasn’t escaping this now. He went around, not wanting to crawl through the window so he went through the main entrance then to his room’s door. 4 was already standing in the doorway, waiting with his arms crossed.
“So?” 4 asked as 3 stopped in front of him, not saying a word.
“C’mon dude” 4 asked again “I heard something was bothering you”
“Why are you even awake, it’s like 2 AM”
“Video grind. Regardless, I think you’re awake for worse reasons… Something about a nightmare? That I could, saying it with your words, comfort you about?” 4 said the last part with a small grin, obviously teasing 3.
3 slapped him.
“Shut up”
“Oww!”
“Serves you good”
“I’ll shut up if I can listen to you”
3 stared at 4 unamused before sighing the biggest of sighs known to men, feeling a bit flustered alongside it.
“I just had a stupid dream where I betrayed you with the help of Mr Puzzles and I’m scared it could happen in real life, are you happy? That’s what’s keeping me up”
4 looked at him concerned. 3 felt awful.
“I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have told you”
“No… No, it’s okay” 4 mustered a smile “It makes me happy when you’re more open with me”
3 chuckled.
“Rare occurrence, right?”
“Yeah with how much of a tsundere you are”
“I’m NOT! Got it?? I’m anything but that”
4’s smile fell.
“Sure sure… I’ll believe you.”
“I thought you would freak out more”
“Huh? Why would I?”
“At the thought that I had a dream of betraying you”
“3… did you enjoy betraying me?”
3 thought back to the dream, the whole kiss part flustered him a bit.
“3?”
“Uh- Of course not! Why would I? I may be a villain but I’m not… not…”
“You’re not what?”
“Not… abandoning you. Not after everything”
4 looked at 3.
“Wow, is that still you, SMG3? I never knew you could be so direct… or that you felt that way about me” 4 teased 3.
3 was almost about to tell him off again, but he stopped himself. He calmed himself down with a deep breath. He firmly but with love grabbed 4’s shoulders.
“Are you trying to make fun of the fact that I care about you this much? I never cared so much about anyone. And I’m scared, I’m really scared I could… hurt you again. Do you know how scary it is, feeling the looming possibility of me backstabbing you?” 3 teared up “It’s so scary. I don’t wanna lose you”
4 didn’t know how to respond. He felt a bit flustered by such an admission of care for him. He knew 3 cared about him but all these words coming out of him directly just put a sort of feeling in him that made it just a little harder to stand and a little harder to think.
“3…I know you wouldn’t…”
“But- but what if I have a weird change of heart? And become what I used to be? What if I go and kill you on purpose? Like I’ve wanted to in the past?”
3’s tears wouldn’t stop.
“I- Listen, 3… I get that you have quite the history but um…” 4 took a deep breath. It was his time to be honest.
“You… honestly amaze me, 3. For all that you’ve gone through I’m… proud of you? In a way… Yes, you tried to kill me and I’m not happy that happened… I’m not happy about so much you’ve done but… to me, you’ve made up for it… If… if you changing isn’t real then- then is anything real?”
“Eheh, you’re exaggerating…”
“No, dude, I’m serious! At this point- At this point I can’t imagine a world you would betray me in… besides… Mr Psychiatrist degree, isn’t this dream of yours kind of OCD adjacent?”
“Well-” 3 thought for a bit “Hate how you’re making sense there…”
“If you… hate it so much, it just shows how much it’s not what you REALLY want… I’d trust that the last thing you’d ever want to do is hurt me”
3 looked down. He had to take a bit to take the words in.
“3…?” 4 was concerned with the silence but he didn’t need to be concerned for long as he was pulled into a tight hug. 3 buried his face in 4’s neck, still crying a bit so he soaked 4’s shirt, not that he cared. 4 might have but he didn’t that’s for sure. 4 returned the hug, rubbing 3’s back. It wasn’t always the easiest with 3 but these kind of moments were the ones making it all worth it for 4. He would live through so many murder attempts if it meant he could get more of this kind of 3, a 3 that could be so honest. A 3 that could care so much, so much that he could tear the universe apart. He loved it. Especially because he felt similarly. Sometimes he would remember old times and wonder how they couldn’t have been friends earlier but then realising that what they have now… It’s perfect. He would never even think to wish for anything else.
And they didn’t pull away for a long while, it felt like a waste to do so. A question appeared in 3’s mind that wouldn’t leave him alone.
“Say… 4… mind if I… spend the night here…? It’s cool if you don’t want me to- It is… kind of weird for me to ask to anyways”
4 pulled out of the hug.
“I was actually thinking the same thing. Although I don’t have another bed prepared”
Silence inserted itself between them as they were both looking at each other awkwardly.
“I knew you were gay” 3 said, quoting the legendary video.
“Alright, that’s it, you’re coming to bed with me”
“Ooooh nooooo, what will I ever doooo” 3 said sarcastically.
“Oh, you know. Sleep”
As they both laid down it felt a bit too real. Sure, they first softened the tension of the idea with jokes but that didn’t mean it would be easy after.
3 looked at the ceiling then at 4. Then at his hand. Although this all felt weird and he didn’t like being so direct- he grabbed 4’s hand, firmly at that. 4 looked at him. They stared into each other’s eyes a bit before 4 smiled.
“I’m glad to have you in my life, 3”
“Ahem, I’m actually more glad to have YOU in MINE” 3 got competitive about it. They both laughed about it then finally fell asleep.
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as a retired ff writer ive come out of hibernation bc the lack of smallville clark kent ffs is unacceptable tom welling is toooooo fine
sorry for all the grammatical errors i wrote this all at once and didn’t reread
SECRET ADMIRER - clark kent x reader
Fumbling the lock of your locker, you sigh; you were on your fifth day at smallville high school and you weren’t ecstatic to say the least. After your dad had gotten into some legal trouble with LutherCorp your family had to move out of Metropolis to somewhere more safe.. more remote. Adjusting to the rural life of smallville had proven to be difficult and the people seemed strange. Slamming a fist against your locker you try again, meticulously turning the lock of the locker. Click. As you open the doors of the locker, a piece of paper slowly falls out.
Picking it up you read your name in bright red across the folded up piece of paper, you smile to yourself thinking, my very own secret admirer..
Maybe smallville won’t be so boring.
—————
Sipping on your coffee, you annotate your copy of the scarlet letter for English class. “Hey! y/n right?” A friendly voice calls out. You look up from your book, smiling. “Yeah! you must be Lana?” She nods, “I see your getting ready for the English exam, you need any help?” You glance at your book before starting, “I’m good for now.. I’ll let you know if I have any questions!” She smiles again before turning away to walk back behind the counter. Your eyes follow her as she talks to the costumers by the counter, they look familiar— a blonde girl with short wispy hair, and two other guys beside her.
You almost jump out of your own seat when you lock eyes with one of the boys, has he been looking at me this whole time? You think, embarrassed, quickly focusing on your book again. Although you’ve looked away you can still feel his gaze lingering on you.
“Hi.” You’re startled as you hear the voice, looking up at the boy that was staring at you from across the room. Before you can reply he starts, “You’re in my first period Bio class.. you know.. with Jenkins..” You blink, waiting for him to continue. He gulps, “uh well Jenkins is really tough.. and we have our first quiz next class so I was wondering if you would want any help….?” You smile sweetly, what is it with small town folks being so eager to help out? “Yeah I would really like that actually,” He smiles, almost in a relived way. “Great. You’re actually my new neighbor so I’ll just come over to help out,” He says before turning away. You cock your head to the side before saying, “Wait.” He turns around, facing towards you, “I never got your name,” you say.
“Clark Kent.”
—————
You’re sitting on your bed as you peer up at Clark while he explains how to convert moles into grams, “So you’re going to divide the number of particles by Avogrados number..” You yawn tuning him out, your eyes fall the paper that slipped out of your locker earlier today. I still haven’t read that note. You grab the note, opening it up, “y/n are you listening to me.” He says clearly frustrated. “Sorry Clark..” you say apologetically smiling, he notices the paper in your hands and nervously looks back up at you. “What is that?” He says, shifting around in his seat, looking intently at your face. You smile lightly, giggling, “It’s a letter from my secret admirer.” He visibly relaxes, ���Oh.. I take it you like having one?” You nod shrugging, “makes smallville a lot more interesting than it could be.” He fake winces, “Smallville is a lot more interesting than you think.” You raise your eyebrows unconvinced, “Really? You’ll have to show me what’s so ‘interesting’ one day.” He smiles glancing down, “Maybe I will.”
You look at Clark’s notebook and your eyebrows furrow, the handwriting looking strikingly similar to the one in the note you found this morning. “Clark..” “Hm?” He looks up at you, “Do you possibly happen to know whoever wrote me that note?” He scratches his head, “No? Why would I?…” You shrug, “Just curious..” He awkwardly smiles before writing in his notebook again. You shift your position on your bed, scooting closer to him, “Clark, it’s ok you can tell me if you do know…” you bring your hand to his exposed forearm caressing it. He coughs before breathlessly stating, “I really don’t know who wrote it, y/n.” You push up against him, drawing circles up his arms, “Hm.. that really is too bad..” He swallows dryly, “yeah?” You nod slowly, “yeahhh.. I would’ve gone along with everything they wrote in that letter..” There’s a moment of silence as he looks at you. He shuts his eyes, sighing hard before confessing, “I wrote it.”
You grin mischeviously, running a hand through his hair, “You really didn’t have to lie, Clark..” He opens his eyes to look at you, his cheeks red from embarrassment, “y/n” “hmm?” You hum, tilting your head bringing your lips closer to his. He glances at them, sighing heavily before parting his lips to say something. He’s cut off by you pressing your lips against his, you feel his body relax into yours, his hands sliding up your back and his lips pushing deeper into the kiss. You pull away from the kiss, your hands holding Clark’s head; using your thumb you wipe lipstick off of Clark’s swollen lips as he looks at you longingly.
You press your lips together, suppressing a giggle, “Hmm it’s getting late.. how about we pick back up tomorrow?”
#tom welling#clark kent#tom welling smut#clark kent smut#superman#clark kent x reader#x reader#red k clark#clark kent smallville#smallville#smallville clark kent#superman x reader#tom welling x reader#secret admirer
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Ellis Vinter
18/Male
Norwegian
Gay
Aquarius
Hometown is Snowmist Mountains
Twisted from Elsa
Ignihyde
3rd Year
Best Subject is Conjuration
He’s in the Horse Riding Club
His Favorite Food is Hot Chocolate Tart
His Least Favorite Food is Reaper Pepper
Dislikes Spring
Hobbies include Reading, Stationary, Studying, Journaling, Puzzles, Calligraphy, and Ice Skating
Talents: Memorization
UM “Beware the Frozen Heart“:
When Ellis points at someone and says his UM, an ice shard shoots out of the finger and into the victim. In a short span of time, the victim’s hair turns white, their cheeks lose color, their body becomes cold and frosty, and the victim d!es as their heart turns to literal ice. Ellis despises his UM, and has only used it as a last resort for self defense.
Like many Ignihyde students, Ellis is a cautious lone wolf who doesn’t socialize much. He is elegant and graceful, which is to be expected of a prince like him. Due to his quiet, lonely, and somewhat reclusive nature, along with his wealthy background, many students interpret his shyness as arrogance and haughtiness. So Ellis isn’t very popular among the students. While he tends to hide it, Ellis is quite anxious and nervous 70% of the time, and is actually quite touch starved.
Backstory (Accidental m*rder and Ab*se warning):
Ellis is the heir Prince of Snowmist Mountains. He had a younger brother and was very close with him. But one day, when the two were kids, assassins came during the night. The assassins managed to grab Ellis’ younger brother, so Ellis used his UM on the thief holding his brother. However, the thief used his brother as a shield, so the UM ended up hitting Ellis’ brother and not the thief. Soon after his brother was hit by the UM, he was d*ad. In fear of what they saw, the assassins scrammed.
The King, Queen, guards, and other royal staff arrived to where the heard the ruckus, and were horrified by the sight of the younger prince’s lifeless c*rpse, and the older prince sobbing on the floor. Everyone blamed Ellis for the d*ath of the younger prince. His parents locked Ellis in his room, where they beat and screamed at him, calling him a monster.
Ellis was forbidden from leaving his room, and if he did, his parents would beat and scream at him again. The maids had to bring him food, but they would leave it in front of the door, knock, and run before Ellis opened it. His Tutor needed guards in the room before being okay tutoring Ellis. Everyone at the castle despised the older Prince.
A few years later, the King and Queen d!ed when the ship they were on sunk, leaving Ellis with the throne. However, many were against Ellis being the Ruler, due to how young he was…and also because they despised him, so Snowmist Mountain is now currently ruled by the Grand Duke, and he rules the kingdom well.
He ordered Ellis to be released from his room prison, and he let the Prince know that he can leave the room whenever he pleased. Ellis was gobsmacked by this, and was even more gobsmacked that the Duke wasn’t expecting something out of him. The Grand Duke treats Ellis as if he were his son, something Ellis hadn’t experienced in many years.
Fun Facts:
+ Dislikes Spring due to pollen allergies (it only gives him sniffles, but it’s still annoying)
+ It’s noted how Ellis got his UM at a much younger age compared to most people (who tend to get them at 16)
+ Once a day, the Grand Duke messages/calls Ellis to see how he’s doing
+ He has a cold body (if you touch him, you can feel that he’s cold)
+ His nightmares consist of the ab*se he went through and about his brother getting k!lled
+ Loves a good cup of Hot Chocolate with marshmallows
+ Ellis’ favorite thing in the morning is to hear the icemen passing by and singing. At NRC, he has a music box that plays the songs the icemen would sing
+ Seems to always wear gloves
+ His spice tolerance is non existent
+ Keeps his things tidy, clean, and organized
+ He’ll take his horse, Olaf, for an evening walk every day
+ Ellis has very high As, and is actually good at math. He would be very willing to tutor other students despite his shyness…but most other students would rather fail than be around him (this bites them in the butt during Chapter 3)
+ Winter is his favorite holiday. Loves building snowman and ice skating
+ Has a sweet tooth
+ Is VERY skilled in ice magic
+ Dating Ángel Iglesias
+ The only one that knows that Ángel has a fear of bells
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For your 300 follower bash, can I request a short story/drabble where the reader is either the sixth member of TXT or a member of a gg like maybe Le Sserafim or Aespa and is in a relationship with any member (I'm ot5 so it really doesn't matter who <3) I do kind of like the idea of Hyuka being the love interest and can totally picture the other members teasing him a lot, but again any member is fine <33
𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 - 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐀𝐈
bf!blond!Kai x fem!reader
in which no matter how much his friends tease him about his girlfriend, he knows they love her just as much as he does.
wc 1.4k
warnings kissing, slightly suggestive
↪ izzy speaks... first fic for the 300 bash!! I am happy it's with huening too! I've been meaning to use these pictures for a while now.
event post | event masterlist
The smile on your face slowly fades away as you watch the three dots disappear, leaving you on ‘seen’. You raise an eyebrow in confusion, but you don’t get a chance to pay it any more attention as your best friend, Yunjin, wraps her arm around your shoulders, smirking.
“Look who’s being all lovey-dovey again,” she teases, giggling as she snatches your phone. “You guys are so adorable it makes me sick.” Kazuha and Chaewon share a laugh with her, shaking their heads at the brunette. “Hey! Give it back! I’m in the middle of a conversation!” You try to take your phone back, but it only leads to more of Yujin’s laughing.
Little did you know that your dear boyfriend Kai is in the same situation as you, hiding his face in embarrassment as Beomgyu holds his phone.
“Can’t wait to see you again,” Beomgyu reads out loud, running around the room. Usually, he wouldn’t dare to do something like this. It was Kai’s privacy, and there was no way he would cross the line, but a dare was a dare.
“Just read it all! Get it over with,” Kai whines, his cheeks red as he stares down at his lap, listening just like everyone else. “Oh, god. I’m not reading that. That’s for sure,” Beomgyu frowns, catching Yeonjun’s attention. The youngest’s eyes widen as he realizes what chats one of his best friends has just stumbled upon. “No, no, no, don’t look through that! This far is enough. Give it back,” the blond looks up again, his eyes full of fear and awkwardness.
But before Beomgyu can do as he asked for, Yeonjun is already up, stealing the phone from him. “Yeonjun!” Kai yells, his mind too clouded with thoughts to use honorifics. “Oh my god!” The eldest gasps. “How can our fans call you an angel?” He dramatizes. “You’re nasty.”
“Just kill me,” Huening sighs, closing his eyes. Taehyun chuckles, patting his back. “It’s not the end of the world,” he reminds the blond, rolling his eyes when he notices Yeonjun taking pictures of the chats on his phone. Sometimes, he doubted if Jun was actually the eldest of them all. “It might be, though! She is going to kill me if she finds out you’ve read our chats.”
“I won’t tell a soul,” Yeonjun proclaims, still laughing as he hands Kai his phone back. “But I’m glad you don’t act like a complete angel, at least with your girlfriend. Honestly, the whole innocent act has been freaking me out.”
“I’m not even going to say anything to that,” Kai answers, gripping his phone tightly as if he were scared someone might take it away from him again. “Now, answer your girl. You don’t leave a girl waiting when she asks to hang out.” Hyuka rolls his eyes at him, opening his phone again, “I’m not stupid. I know what to do and what not.”
“Right,” Beomgyu is the first to scoff, but it doesn’t move Kai a bit. Once his girlfriend had his attention, nothing bothered him anymore.
♡⸝⸝
You watch Sakura, Yujin and Kazuha go over the choreography repeatedly, mentally going over the steps along with them. You definitely couldn’t say you would excel the dance yet, but you’ve had enough for today. If you went through the choreography again, your legs might as well give up.
“Okay, we’re clocking out now! Have fun!” Eunchae grins, swinging her bag over her shoulder while Chaewon stands beside her wearing the same annoying smirk. You catch Yujin rolling her eyes and have to laugh. “I am going to leave in a bit, too,” you say, and your best friend immediately turns to you. “What? I thought we were grabbing dinner together after practice!” She complains.
You open your mouth to answer her, but all that leaves your lips is a shaky breath full of regret. You squeeze your eyes shut as you remember the plans you made, clapping your hands together and muttering a quiet “sorry” through them. Yujin sighs when she notices your eyes. She can’t even blame you. Not when you seem so genuine with your apology. “I kind of…forgot about it,” you admit. “And made plans with Kai instead.”
“Alright then. You’re lucky I know Kai has been busy, and you haven’t seen him much lately,” she shakes her head, and you smile again, jumping up to hug her. “Thank you, thank you!” Yujin smiles as she wraps her hands around you. “We can have dinner tomorrow. What do you think?” You ask hopefully, and she chuckles, nodding. “Go hang out with your boyfriend now,” she says, pushing you toward the door with a laugh.
“I’ll see you tonight! Bye!” You quickly wave at Sakura and Kazuha before the door closes behind you, and you stand in the hallway, beaming as you notice your boyfriend sitting on the side, scrolling on his phone. “Hey,” you greet him quietly, making him raise his head immediately. “You should have come in. No one would mind.” Kai grabs his bag from the bench, slightly shaking his head as he walks to you. “It’s fine,” he assures you before gently pressing his lips on yours, one of his hands wrapping around your waist while the other rests on your cheek. “Hi, pretty,” he mumbles his greeting against your lips, making you bite your bottom lip to constrain your smile.
Hyuka holds your hand as you walk through the HYBE building, telling you about his practice and some of the stupid dares they did during their break – purposefully not mentioning the one involving his friends reading your chats – while you tell him about your practice and the main points of your new choreography, bragging about how fun they are.
He only lets go of your hand when you get to the entrance, smiling as he lets you walk outside first, watching you walk to your car while he waits for a few minutes, just like he did many times before in order not to get anyone suspicious about your relationship with him. People don’t need to know that you’re on your way to his dorm.
♡⸝⸝
You chuckle at the familiar voices as you step inside the dorm room. You feel at home. Not only because of your boyfriend, but also his friends, who’ve never been anything but welcoming to you.
“Don’t mind then. Beomgyu and Soobin got immersed in League again,” Yeonjun simply waves at you as he passes the front door on his way to his room. “Taehyun just finished making dinner, or you know where the snacks are,” he smiles. “Thank you,” you smile back, taking off your shoes.
It doesn’t take much longer for Hyuka to arrive, too, pulling you in for a hug as soon as he gets to you. You giggle, wrapping your arms around him and relaxing. “Have they been bothering you a lot?” Your boyfriend asks softly, and you swear you could get lost in his eyes when they lock with yours. You shake your head, grabbing his hand. “You know that’s not possible.” You’re right. No matter how much his friends tease him about you whenever they get the chance, they love you just as much as Kai does. He has to smile, remembering all the times they had told him how happy they were for him.
“Right,” Kai mumbles quietly, his eyes on your hand holding his as you take him to his room.
No matter how much time he spends with you, every moment and touch will always be as important to him as when you first got together. “Get a room!” Beomgyu yells, making Hyuka snap out of his thoughts. “Shut up!” He yells back at him, hiding his flushed cheeks as he follows you.
You never need to do much with Kai to have fun. Honestly, you prefer not to do anything when you’re with him. Being able to relax after a long day with some lazy kisses and back rubs sometimes means so much more than having big plans. And today is no different.
Kai tugs your hair behind your ear and pulls you in for a kiss as soon as he sits on his bed. You get comfortable on his lap, grinning into the kiss as you close your eyes. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbles against your lips. “I haven’t been in the shower yet. I’m all stinky,” you laugh, cupping his cheek. “Still beautiful,” he assures you, not wasting any time and pressing his lips on yours again, unable to get enough. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper back with a smile.
⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez ✶⋆ Want to get notified? Join taglist here !
#hueningkai#huening kai#izzy writes ✶⋆.˚#fluff#txt#tomorrow x together#tubatu#txt fluff#huening#hyuka#choi yeonjun#yeonjun#choi beomgyu#beomgyu#choi soobin#soobin#kang taehyun#taehyun#kai#huening fluff#hueningkai fluff#huening kai fluff#izzy's 300 bash
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#I hope Bruce packed some spare pants#I don't know what was on my 2024 Damian bingo card but this was not it#Williamson Williamson when I catch you#At least no-one can...call him....short...now?#Laughing til I cry#his teeny beetle head#Damian Wayne#Robin#wednesday spoilers#Batman and Robin#Batman and robin spoilers#Batman and robin 12 spoilers#dc comics#Snark edits#Batman and Robin 12
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need him to call me pretty and have him fawn over me a little bit like i do him
#spookyshipping#askhdsgjjv…… boyfriend on brain. valentines day is always a little difficult for me but we stay silly and try to be positive despite that#i am. having a week to say the least#short one school wise!! i get an extra long weekend so maybe i can try and get better but wow does my whole body hurt#and wow are my feelings definitely Feeling#anyway. boyfriend. have i babbled about how pretty he is recently#he has such pretty brown eyes waghh :((#i wanted to do something for us today but i’ve just been so buuusy and overwhelmed and blehhh#maybe we’ll do something this weekend if i’m feeling up for it… go out to eat or go to some fun stores or something#hopefully for now he won’t be too dissatisfied with cuddling and sweet words until i can get him an actual present….#i like thinking about him calling me pretty and stuff like that. sometimes it’s hard to believe stuff like that but#imagining that it’s *him* specifically saying it to me changes it a little. makes it feel sweeter and more genuine#also feels a little absurd because he’s the one saying that as if he isn’t the prettiest thing ever!!!#siiiigh. i love him your honor#would melt if he said anything even slightly positive or nice sbout me >_<
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girl help i am rotting from the inside out
#tw rant#litcherally just want to go to the doctor and check what's going on but#my phone is bricked and APPARENTLY i need to be responsible and buy it myself and make the calls myself#which would be fine! if anybody had the time to drive me to the damn store to buy the damn phone!#and no mother! I cannot drive! me plus a car equals menace to society and serious safety hazard!#i am disabled and you're gonna have to accept it sooner or later!#preferably sooner because i can literally feel myself getting weaker!#i run out of breath from going up and down the stairs!#i run out of breath standing for more than a few minutes at a time!#my ritalin is becoming less effective at keeping me awake because im so fucking dehydrated and nauseous#that i can't fucking move more than one short little walk per day! and even that is difficult!#and i can hardly fucking eat!#girl if i become more physically disabled than i already might be then im blaming you at this point!#'YoUr OnLy LiMiT iS YoUrSeLf' okay and my capabilities are decreasing every day that im not getting help for this health bullshit!#i can barely fucking think clearly! for fuck's sake even SPEAKING clearly is a challenge more often now!#i WILL pull my psychiatrist into this if i have to. cause if you won't listen to me then at least maybe you'll listen to him.#byrd chirps
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