#I ALWAYS SEE YOU WHEN YOU INTERACT WITH MY POSTS YOU KNOW

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch5. child's play

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 5/x

ᰔ words. 4.8k

a/n. helloo my ihm friends! long time no see. hope you're all doing well and thank you so much to everyone who sent me kind messages about the whole ihm gojo ex wife thing haha. i really appreciate it :) i feel more confident about my writing decisions now, and that's all thanks to you guys! anyways, i will be posting shorter chapters for ihm going forward, so sorry if some chapters have slightly abrupt endings or stuff like that. i guess my goal is to post shorter chapters but more frequently! we'll see how it works out. anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and see you at the bottom!!

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 (pending)

Ever since admitting your mother into hospice, things have been calmer inside your mind. After passing the initial wave of agony that came with no longer hearing her voice down the hall or seeing her silhouette in her bedroom as you walked past it, you realized that…a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. No longer setting alarms at the height of every other hour to remind your mother to take her medication, no longer viewing every interaction you had with her as some form of study you needed to jot down in a binder for her neurologist’s records, and no longer driving her to all of her chemotherapy appointments, only to leave them feeling like you purposefully just took your mother to a place where they sucked all the life out of her in exchange for the slim promise of giving it all back to her someday.

Maybe it was evident in the way your shoulders felt less tense as you rolled them back, tilting your neck to the side and no longer feeling the painful strain that tugs a wince onto your face. The other day, you caught yourself humming a song as you drove to work. Your skin, usually feeling cracked and dry from stress and exhaustion, now has a slight plumpness to it like before. A more youthful glow, like the version of yourself you were before your mother became sick. The version of you that so quickly deteriorated, and one you didn’t even know still existed somewhere within you. 

There has also been time for hobbies. Rarest of occasions, you find yourself sauteing some yellow and white peaches in a saucepan over medium heat in Gojo’s kitchen, humming that song once again that’s been stuck in your head. The sundress you’re wearing matches the pink of the syrup that pools at the bottom of the pan, and you feel like you’re living your cottage core dreams in this brief moment of reprieve you’ve allowed yourself to fall into.

The sound of slippers tapping down onto the hardwood floor startles you out of your gleeful trance, and you turn your neck to the right to see a pajama-clad messy-haired Gojo shuffling his feet across the open area into the kitchen with a dark black mug in his hand.

“Why aren’t you dressed??” you ask him in a panic.

“I’ll get dressed later,” he tells you dismissively as he grabs the glass pitcher of coffee from where the coffee machine was nestled up against one of the counter corners.

“You’re stressing me out. Your mom told us to be there in two hours,” you say, putting your hands on your hips in disapproval as you hear the sizzle of the peaches in the saucepan. 

He entirely ignores you, choosing to instead drag his gaze down the form of your body. “Woooow, twice this month I get to see you in a cute dress,” he comments, pouring coffee into his mug but his eyes are still on you, “lucky me.”

“Oh Shut. Up,” you sneer at him with a harsh roll of your eyes, “your fake flattery might work on the lonely middle-aged women you seduce to make a living, but it won’t work on me.”

His shoulders push back before he slumps them slightly, his brow lifting with confusion. “It’s not fake though? I mean it. You look really nice right now.”

You point an accusatory sugar-syrup coated wooden spatula at him. “You’ve just been conditioned by the patriarchy to get a boner at the sight of a woman in a kitchen.”

“What–...no–...why do you always have to say stuff like that whenever I compliment you? Can’t you just accept it?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be flattered by an insolent man like you.”

He sighs, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, and you watch the way the fringe of his hair hangs over his forehead as he gazes into the contents, swirling it around with a loose grip on the handle. “Is this how it’s going to be everyday? I try to be nice, and you–...well, you know, are you.”

“Well who else should I be?”

His eyes lift up to meet yours, the slightest of a cheeky grin on his face as his eyes wander down the form of you again. “I don’t know. Someone a little…softer? Like, you’ve got this really pretty dress on, and then you’re telling me off about patriarchy-induced boners. It’s a little, uh, contradictory?”

You gasp. “You’re trying to control me. I knew it. You are poisoned by the patriarchy.”

“What?”

Your eyes narrow at him. “You have this image of a perfect and cute little wife, who’s gonna wear pretty dresses all the time, and bake stuff in the kitchen, and get all blushy when you tell her she looks beautiful, and you expect her to have this soft little personality that never argues with you or disagrees with you…ALL BECAUSE OF THE PATRIARCHY!!!”

“...I–...Okay, you’ve lost me.”

You let out a hmph! noise. “Can’t even discern his own brainwashing. Sad.”

“All of this just because I tried to tell you that you look nice?”

“I know what your ulterior motives are, you creep.”

His eyes spark a little at that, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a cheeky grin as he sets the coffee mug down onto the marble counter and he straightens his spine. You blink, watching with confusion as he crosses the distance between the two of you, to where you’re taking a small few steps backwards until your lower back presses against the edge of the island countertop. He cages you into the surface with his frame, followed by the palms of his hands sliding over the marble on both sides of you, and you feel his forearms press against the curve of your waist as he traps you in with no way out.

“S-Satoru,” you stutter, looking up at him with wide eyes, “what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he says, his voice deeper with a nonchalance that has you shiver, his gaze dropping to your lips when you part them slightly.

“T-The patriar–” you squeak out, but he suddenly dips his head down to kiss you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes immediately closing when he moves his lips against yours, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him and your hesitation is something that only lasts a brief second before you find yourself kissing him back. Some noise leaves his throat, deep and raw and sounding pleasantly surprised as he captures your lips more fervidly now, his hands smoothing down to hold your hips and his teeth slightly nip at your bottom lip. 

You grab a fistful of his shirt, unsure of whether you want to pull him closer to you or push him away, but the moan that you mumble against his lips only makes his grip on your hips even stronger, fingers digging into the softness through the thin fabric of your dress. 

The oven suddenly starts beeping, startling you and you pull away from the kiss with a gasp, eyes rounded as you look up at him, but his are lidded and dilated as his gaze remains glued to your lips. 

With a heaving chest, you try to push him away by a weak fist to his sternum but he’s unrelenting.

“You taste sweet,” he says, like some comment he noted in his head but accidentally voiced out loud.

“I–...” you inhale sharply, “I just ate three macerated peaches.”

“Uh-huh,” he barely acknowledges before leaning in to get another taste, but you push him away harsher this time.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, finally breaking out of that kiss-induced trance he was in, but he still remains close to you in proximity, so much so to where you can feel the heat from his body. It’s comforting almost, radiating through the soft cotton of his long sleeve shirt, and you find yourself subconsciously leaning towards him before you snap out of it too, and rock your weight back against the island countertop.

You cross your arms over your chest, hoping the flush to your cheeks isn’t showing. “Oh okay so we just casually kiss now?”

He shoves his hands into his plaid pajama pant pockets, leaning away from you slightly. “For as long as I can get away with it, yeah.”

“You are breaking the rules.”

“You never said no kissing.”

“I said no touching.”

“Ehhh kissing isn’t really touching, though, is it?”

“You sound stupid.”

“I always sound stupid to you.”

The oven starts beeping again, and you realize it’s long been preheated to the setting you had placed earlier. You slip away from him with haste, feeling his gaze on you as you press a button on the oven to turn the alarm off, and you stare at the handle for a moment or two to calm the beating of your heart down. 

Your eyes catch sight of something on the side of the fridge. A little magnet made of rubber that has the word London on it as well as the design of the Westminster Cathedral with golden accents. You recall that Gojo went on a trip to London recently, and that he didn’t bring you back any souvenirs from there like he did for your other neighbors. And you want to pretend, you want to shove it down, that incessantly childish feeling that wonders why he didn’t bring you anything back. You want to continue to pretend like it doesn’t hurt your feelings. Something so miniscule and small. But you–...well, you can’t.

You spin around to face him. “Do you hate me?” you bluntly ask.

He blinks at you. “Huh?”

“Do you, what, I don’t know, think I’m annoying or something?”

He shrugs with his hands still in his pockets. “I mean, yeah, I do think you’re annoying sometimes. But in a silly way. Like we’re just pals horsin’ around, y’know?”

You snarl at him, putting your hands on your hips and narrowing your gaze until he’s hardly even visible anymore. “No. I actually find you annoying. Like, wanna-run-you-over-with-a-bus annoying. You just have horrendous social awareness and think that everyone loves you.”

“You actually don’t like me?” he asks, like he can’t even believe that someone wouldn’t.

“Yes,” you say, “now get out of my way.” You make an attempt to push past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder into him to assert dominance but he is unfortunately much bigger than you and so all it does is make you stumble ungracefully from the recoil.

He quickly grabs your arm to steady you, and you glare up at him before yanking yourself away and then step backwards until your back hits the fridge.

He studies your demeanor for a second before taking a deep inhale, and then lets it all go in a heaving sigh. “What do I have to do to get you to lighten up a bit?” he asks.

“You really want to know?” you sneer at him.

“Yes,” he says with a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

You cross your arms. “Pay for the fucking fence.”

He blinks at you, confusion replacing whatever frustration was previously decorating his tone. “What?”

“The fence,” you reiterate with a step forwards towards him, “the one I built six months ago. The one where you laughed in my face when I told you to help pay for it.”

He leans forward. “Yeah. Because I never wanted that fence built. Like I said, it fucked up the roots on my avocado tree. You should’ve asked me before building it. In fact, it’s illegal to build a fence without joint consent of both neighboring property owne–”

“Oh my god, okay, see? This is why I can’t stand you,” you snarl at him and make another move to get past him but he easily steps in front of you to keep you from going anywhere.

With a sigh, he relents. “Fine, I’ll pay for the fence.”

You try to keep the twitching muscles of your face still as you resolutely stare up at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. Through a strained tone, you say, “No. I don’t want you to pay for it anymore.”

He lifts a brow, utterly bewildered at this point. “Huh?”

“Now it just feels like pity. And I don’t want your pity money.”

“Two seconds ago, you did.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That was two seconds ago.”

“So…let me get this straight, you don’t want me to pitch in?”

“No. I want you to have wanted to pitch in SIX MONTHS AGO.”

“Okay but what the fuck am I supposed to do about that now?”

“NOTHING!!!” you finally snap at him, the shrill to your voice startling him slightly to where you see his shoulders jump, and his eyes are now rounded blue as he looks at you. “There’s nothing you can do about it, there’s nothing you can do to get me to ‘lighten up’ or ‘act softer’ or whatever the fuck kind of damage control you aim to achieve with me due to your pestering incessant need to be liked by every fucking person you come across. So just deal with the fact that I hate you and let me do it in peace.”

He’s silent for what feels like a long time as he blinks at you, his bottom lip pushing up slightly in a way that suggests he’s almost impressed by your little outburst, then he takes a step forward, and in that one large stride, he’s closed any distance between the two of you. Your back is up against the frigid steel of the fridge, your heels tucked under the warm rubber at the foot of it, and you’re looking up at Gojo as he towers over you, his hands still annoyingly and relaxedly shoved into his pockets.

“Do you think it’s gonna be a problem that I think you’re kinda hot when you’re mad?” he asks you.

A small puff of air leaves your lips, like you just can’t believe the audacity, but also having him this close to you suddenly made it a little harder to breathe. “C–...Can you just be fucking serious for one second?”

His head dips down, the fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, tip of his nose slightly brushing against yours, but his gaze never falls to your lips. “You think I’m not being stupid fuckin’ serious when I say that you’re hot?”

“S–” your breath hitches in your throat, and his gaze finally falls to the lick you pass over your lips, “Satoru–”

Like God himself answered to your (cognitively dissonant) prayers, the bell rings, and Gojo leans himself away from you, straightening his spine so he can glance over his shoulder towards the door, a slight look of irritation on his face through the furrow of his brow.

You blink up at him. “A–...Are you expecting someone?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “No. Don’t think so.” He sighs before shuffling around the kitchen island and across the dining hall towards the entryway of the house, and you peer at the sight from across the hall.

When he opens the door, you see Sana standing outside, dressed in mom jeans and a t-shirt with her black Coach purse slung around her shoulder, arms crossed, and you barely register the fact that she looks pissed.

“Sana?” Gojo says, “what’s up.”

She entirely ignores him when she catches sight of you, pushing right past him and into the family room that you were currently finding solace in.

“You,” she points at you, storming right up to your personal space, “what the hell did you say to Juno when you were babysitting her?!”

“H-Huh??” you squeak out, taking a step backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“You told her to fight kids at school?!” she snarls at you, and your eyes widen.

“What?” you say, your face twisting with confusion, “I–...I never said that. I just said that she should stand up for herself if she needs to.”

Sana inhales deeply with rage, leaning back and jutting her hip out as she crosses her arms again. “Yeah, well, I had to pick her up early from school today because the principal called and told me she shoved a little girl on the playground during recess, and now she’s facing suspension.”

Gojo approaches suddenly from your periphery, standing in front of you as he faces Sana. You stand on your tiptoes to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why would Juno do something like that?

You hear Sana start to tap her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, and then she turns her head away from Gojo as a slight hmph! noise leaves her throat. “The why is irrelevant.”

You poke your head out from behind Gojo and glare at her, but then Gojo turns around suddenly to look at you.

“y/n,” he says, “what’s going on?”

“I–” you start, glancing at Sana again who now has a solemn look on her face with pursed lips. You glance back at Gojo, who’s looking at you with confusion and anticipation. A heat spreads down your neck from the attention of the both of them on you, and you’re not sure what the smart thing to say is, so you figure you’ll just tell the truth as it is. “...I just didn’t want her getting bullied and thinking she can’t stick up for herself.”

At that, you see Gojo’s shoulders stiffen. “Bullied?” he repeats after you, then quickly turns towards Sana, “what does she mean, bullied? Juno’s getting bullied at school?”

Sana faces him full-on, raising a stern pointed finger between the two of them “No. Satoru. Stop. You always do this. This has nothing to do with you, so don’t even start. It’s not a big deal, let’s not make it one.”

“The fuck do you mean it’s not a big deal? She’s getting bullied at school, and you want her to just suck it up?” he asks, venom dripping from his tone. 

“It’s for her benefit!” Sana exclaims. “Jun and I have spent months trying to get her into this school! We don’t want her getting kicked out.”

“Y’know, I’m–” you stutter, “I’m gonna–...I’m just gonna go upstairs,” you say, “this seems like a family matter. I think you guys should probably just settle this on your ow–”

“No,” Gojo says, pointing to the couch that you were standing in front of, “sit down.”

You sit.

Gojo turns to face Sana again, and although you can’t see his face, you imagine he’s pissed off from the way Sana’s shoulders drop slightly and her sharp expression is cut into a more sheepish one.

“Who cares if Juno is suspended for sticking up for herself? It’s the teachers’ fault for not making sure she’s safe,” he says.

“Shoving other kids is not the solution.”

“Well if you fuck around, then you find out. Kids are too soft these days.”

“This is not the 90s, Satoru.”

You watch the back and forth between the two of them for the better part of an entire minute, feeling uneasy in the hostile environment of the room, but there’s a sense of underlying familiarity between the two, one that is recognizable amongst family. And you feel rather foreign, but then remember that, technically speaking, now that you’re married to Gojo, this is your family too.

Amongst the arguing of the adults, none of you noticed that Juno had gotten out of the car in the driveway and was now standing in the doorframe of the front entrance. She looks scared and guilty, fidgeting with her fingers in front of her, and you notice her scrapes and bruises that you tended to last week were now mostly healed. 

Gojo catches sight of her, and you see his shoulders relax. “Juno, c’mere.”

With the permission, she instantly runs towards him and into his arms from where he was crouched down to the floor in order to welcome her, and then she starts sobbing.

“I’m–hic,” she cries, “I’m so–hic–I’m so sowwyyy Uncle Toru…I’m–hic–I’m sorry mommyyyy.” 

You see Sana sigh and she makes a move to brush Juno’s tear-dampened hair out of her face when Gojo pulls her away from his shoulder by a delicate hold of her bony little shoulders.

“Juno. Listen. If people are being mean to you, then you do exactly as your auntie y/n said. You stand up for yourself. And if that doesn’t work, then you cuss at them and threaten to shove their faces into the dirt until they run away with their tails between their legs. Do you understand me?” Gojo tells her.

Sana gives you a pointed look.

“Oh, I–” you put your hands up in front of you, “I didn’t say any of that last part.”

“Do you understand me?” Gojo repeats again, and Juno nods her head slowly before she falls back into him and soaks his shirt with tears. “I’m soowwwwwyyyyyy.”

Gojo pats her back a few times to comfort her, and your heart breaks for the little girl. It’s bad enough to be bullied at school, but then to be reprimanded by your mother the one time you stand up for yourself…you can imagine how emotionally exhausting that would be for a five-year-old. 

Juno sniffles, rubbing her snot all over the cotton of Gojo’s shirt, and then pulls her face away to rub at her eye with a weakly closed fist. “I–hic–I just…I just wanted him to feel–hic–the same hurt.”

“Huh? Who?” Gojo asks.

“The boy,” Juno says, “the one that shoved me today.”

“It was a boy?!?!?!” Gojo yells. “Alright. That’s it. I’m grabbing my bat.”

“Satoru.” Sana deadpans.

Sana and Gojo continue to bicker about the ethics of threatening five-year-old boys with baseball bats, going back and forth about how Gojo wasn’t actually going to do anything but just wanted to instill fear (he’s lying), while Sana isn’t exactly sold on a single pacifist thing that he says, and you sigh, because you realize you’ve become invested in one of, what you feel like will become many, of their family quarrels.

Juno sneaks around Gojo’s legs and comes up to you while the arguing is taking place in the background, and she gently taps your knee as you’re seated on the couch. “Auntie y/n,” she whispers.

You rub an eye crustie from her face and then hold her hand in yours. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm? For what?”

She smiles at you, her cheeks pink and flush from crying but rounded now in glee. “My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that, sweetheart?”

Why wouldn’t Sana and Jun be on normal talking terms? What does Juno mean that it’s been a long time? What exactly was going on at home?

“Juno,” Sana’s voice interrupts your thoughts, her arms crossed across her chest, “c’mon. Let’s go.” She points a stern finger at Gojo. “Seriously. I mean it. No baseball bats or rodent traps involved. I’ll talk to the teachers and sort something out.” She glances at you, that strict look on her face now dissolving into one of pure exhaustion. One you can imagine only a mother can face. “See you later at dinner, you two.”

Juno runs up to her mom and grabs onto her outreached hand, and you see Gojo ruffle her hair as she walks past him, her giggles ringing in the air, and then he sees them out the door. 

The air is awkward, at least to you, the second he closes the door, and when he turns around to face you, your body stiffens up.

He leans back onto the front door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks,” he says, “for telling Juno to stick up for herself.”

You blink at him. “Well. I don’t feel too great about it at the moment, to be honest.”

He sighs. “I just think that Jun and Sana are raising her to be…kinda meek. I wish they��d teach her to be more confident and take up space.”

“Mhm,” you nod. Because you agree. Little girls need to learn how to be that way at a young age, because the world is seldom very kind to them.

“Well, what you said to her is what I would’ve said to her anyways,” he says.

You roll your eyes, standing up from the couch and heading back into the kitchen to presume your work on your peach cobbler. “I never told her to shove kids’ faces into the dirt. But, uh, sure, I guess so.”

You see Gojo enter the kitchen too in your periphery, but you don’t give him any glance or look or attention. From what you can see as you stir around your macerated peaches in a Pyrex bowl, he’s leaning against the island counter about three feet away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s watching you. A slight warmth radiates in your cheeks, but you attempt to ignore the nerves by being hypnotized by the pink syrup that pools at the bottom of the bowl.

My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.

An unsettling feeling takes over your senses. It could be the past few years you’ve spent walking on eggshells around your mother, or the way you’ve become so keen to her energy as a way of staying on top of any shift in her symptoms, any single sign of disease progression, any clue that she wasn’t getting better. Any clue that she wasn’t doing okay. And you feel a sense of dread, because that skill, you realize, has now made you aware of similar circumstances in the people around you.

Not to mention, you are a child of divorce. You know what that fear feels like.

You just want to know if Juno feels safe at home.

“Hey, um…” you start, turning slightly to finally face Gojo, your eyes hesitantly flickering up to meet his gaze, “when was the last time you saw your brother-in-law? And with Sana?”

He raises a brow at you. “I just saw them last weekend for one of Juno’s dance recitals.”

“Ah…I see,” you say. You purse your lips together. 

Right. Kids say things all the time. They believe in Santa Claus and think that blueberry pancakes are called blubbery pancakes. And they sometimes read too into things, and they sometimes read too little. Surely, things must be okay. Maybe Sana and Jun had had a little argument with some stubbornly thawing cold shoulders, a demeanor that was noticed by their child, and now things have resumed to normal. That was normal. Part of every family. “That’s good to know…” 

You turn away from Gojo to stare back down into the bowl of macerated peaches again. With a furrowed brow, you close your eyes tightly to try to shake the chilly feeling in your bones, and you feel better when you open them again. The slightly numb sensation in your hand dissipates and you have enough dexterity to mix the peaches around in the bowl.

“I wonder what news they want to share with us over dinner,” you say, to quell the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Gojo hums, and you see him turn around face the counter now, hovering over the bowl of raw crumble topping you had mixed together, prodding at it with the wooden spoon. “Oh, they’re moving.”

Your head snaps to look at him. “W-What?”

“Yeah,” he nonchalantly affirms, scooping up a spoonful of the crumble. “They wanted to up-size, and move a little closer to the school that Juno’s at. I found them a nice place about an hour from here on the outskirts of the city. They just signed the papers a couple weeks ago.” And then he shoves the spoon into his mouth.

“Oh…wow,” you say. “Okay…”

“Damn,” Gojo says with surprise laced in his tone, "this is really good.” He’s staring into the bowl in awe and then scoops up some more crumble with a spoon.

You blink at him, irritated that he’s eating all your ingredients without even asking, and before you’ve even finished your dessert. It’s like he was born to piss you off.

You walk up to him and yank the bowl away, “Gimme that.” Then you pull it into the divot of your waist possessively and glare at him. 

He sighs, and then says something out loud that you’re sure he meant to keep in his head:

“I’ll get used to it.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 5]

a/n. it feels so strange to post such a short chapter bahaha hopefully the ending isn't too abrupt. but hope you enjoyed! i'm so sorry ab the slow burn in this series aaa but i can try to assure you that it'll all be worth it hopefully lol i'm really excited for what i have planned for this series!! alsooo sorry if there are errors or anything, i'm trying to spend less time editing since it really stalls me n leads to writer's block lol. hope to see you in the next one :) much love! - ellie

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[thebaldursmouthgazette]

You see this is the sort of thing I meant in my other post about people seeing veilguard as lacking depth and complexity because they’re taking everything at face value.

Because Solas is exactly the same person he was in inquisition. It’s just that that person is a manipulative liar who uses other people for gain, and we’re now seeing him interact with a different person who he has a different use for.

His plan in veilguard is exactly the same as it was in inquisition: to bring down the veil without care for the destruction it will cause. We see that at the end, when he hides what Elgar’nans death will do so that Rook can’t prevent the veil from coming down. And that plan has always involved doing something about the gods and the blight first because it couldn’t not. Solas even tells the inquisitor this in trespasser

But that is not his plan how he presents it to Rook, because he wants to 1) convince Rook he does not need to be stopped and 2) make rook feel bad about their actions at the ritual site so that they can take his place in the regret prison.

So when talking to Rook, he says that his plan was simply to move the gods, and the issue of the veil coming down is skated around with clever language that implies he wasn’t going to really destroy the world, that’s a silly little story Rook believed, and now they’ve released the gods and caused real problems. That’s not true, but it’s what he wants Rook to believe, so it’s the narrative he presents. This isn’t simply my interpretation, this is shown to be the case, when he repeatedly betrays Rook in the last act of the game, with all the ways he lied to and manipulated them being revealed to the player.

The devs aren’t brushing his crimes under the rug, in fact the game shows you repeatedly exactly who Solas is and all the horrible things he’s done (through his memories and his current actions), Solas is trying to brush them under the rug. We know what Solas’ plans are, Rook knows what Solas’ plans are, but that makes Solas’ life difficult so he wants us to doubt ourselves.

That’s not a retcon. That is a character lying to you. And rather than erasing complexity of the characters and story it is adding it. You’re just immediately taking it at face value, even when the character in question is the elven god of lies and betrayal.

And the same thing is happening in a lot of places, and that’s why people are saying it lacks depth. It’s not lacking depth. You’re ignoring the depth and just taking everything at face value in a game that has, since the very beginning, been partly about how you can’t take anything at face value.

I need everyone who didn’t read the books to know that Felassan (who’s name means slow arrow in elven)

This guy

Who was in several of solas’ memories and has notes around the lighthouse and crossroads

Was in the masked empire. He was a friend and mentor of Brialas and helped her with her efforts to use her relationship with Celene to improve the lives of elves in Orlais (and tried to let her down gently when it became apparent that was not enough).

He refuses to let Briala tell him the code for the eluvian network so that he cannot give it on to Solas. Refusing to tell him would not be enough to keep it from him. When he meets with Solas he tries to convince him that modern elves should be given a chance. Solas murders him, his ally of thousands of years, for this.

In inquisition, Cole says this:

This is what the Betrayal of Felassan represents. Solas murdered his trusted friend and ally because he though modern elves were people whose lives had value.

[gravestrain]

gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)

In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.

This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.

When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.

Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.

Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.

It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.

It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.

You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.

Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.

To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.

"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.

You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?

You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.

"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.

Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.

"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.

"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.

"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."

"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.

"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."

"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."

-------------------

The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.

Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.

"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.

"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.

"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."

________________

For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.

Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.

Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."

It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.

[tpwk-formula1]

Biggest Fan Pt 1 - CL16

Requested by @nina-or-anna-or-nora "Heyy!! 💕 I saw you were asking some requests so I have one for an Smau!! (If you want to do it ofc) I was thinking about the reader being kinda like Sabrina or Olivia (a performer) and then Charles being like her biggest fan🤭just a super cute fluffy thing and he goes to every show he can or posts her and stuff🥹"

AN - Had so much fun writing this SMAU for you! Don't be afraid to send in requests that aren't apart of the Pizza Menu! I love Sabrina but I'm not a die hard fan so I have no idea how many outfit changes she has or the order she performs so if it's a little messed up I apologize! Also LMK if you wanna see me do this with more drivers and make it a little series of the drivers being head over heels for their girl friend!

Summary: Just Charles being in love with Y/N... and basically everyone in the F1 community!

Charles insta stories over the fall break

Twitter

Charles instagram

Liked by landonorris, youruser, carlossainz, and 2,090,513 others

charlesleclerc We're ready for you Austin ft. Y/N and all the fan gifted hats that will make an appearance this weekend tagged carlossainz and youruser

user5 I love how he makes a post for work and still finds a way to get Y/N in there

user6 your honor... it's them. It's always them!

youruser I'm ready to be back in my home soil!

user7 I constantly forget our girl is from the US charlesleclerc you mean MY girl user8 Charles will never learn to share charlesleclerc not when it comes to MY Y/N youruser alright calm it down you charlesleclerc yes maam

user9 I hate feeling single but I do love you guys!

carlossainz Will I ever get a post with just us?

user10 Carlos... they're a package deal user11 If I don't expect anything less, you shouldn't either youruser damn... catching strays carlossainz Y/N I thought we were friends!

load more comments

Your insta story

user12 how does it feel to be living my dream

carlossainz he's been smiling at his phone for 10 minutes because you posted him

youruser I love knowing he loves me as much as I love him

user13 his eyes

charlesleclerc that's one lucky man

youruser he really is!

user14 I love the way you guys love each other

landonorris you guys disgust me with how cute you are together

youruser you wish this was you huh? landonorris I miss when you were to shy to interact with us... kinda a meanie youruser you'll learn to survive

Twitter

your Instagram

Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, oliviarodrigo, and 3,092,172 others

youruser Thanks for the warm welcome home... see you in a few weeks for Vegas!

Look for a surprise tomorrow around noon YeeHaw time!

charlesleclerc Ooooo I wanna know the surprise

user18 I can't believe I have notifications on and Charles is still here before me

charlesleclerc you snooze you lose! gotta be quicker than that! youruser love you need to be a bit nicer! user18 no this is on me... I should know no matter how much I love you Charles just loves you that much more! user19 I'm sobbing at this! Charles is so unhinged when it comes to Y/N

landonorris Can I also know the surprise

charlesleclerc NO!

user20 YeeHaw time is SENDING me! For anyone confused she's talking about CST

user21 THANK YOU! It makes so much sense now that you've explained but as a non F1 Y/N fan I didn't realize she was in Texas haha

user22 I love their height difference. I forget just how SMALL Y/N is.

Your Insta Story

charlesleclerc I can't wait to watch you!!

user23 HOLY SHIT! I can't fucking wait!

user24 omg! I'm so excited for this!!

landonorris: I hope you have a ticket saved with my name on it!

youruser: I do including the rest of the grid... spread the word pleaseeee

user25: Oh to be in the US rn to experience this concert! I just know it's gonna be amazing

Twitter

Charles Insta story during the show

Max's Insta story during the show

Youruser: Max! hahaha you had me cracking up in the first slide... then tearing up through laughter in the second. Thank you so much for finding time in your title fight to support!

maxverstappen1: I wouldn't have missed it! Had to see what all the hype was about. Please invite me again

Grid Members Stories (Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Liam, Franco)

[dykedvonte]

I hate the stretch lines in the front of Curly's uniform because that means the devs rushed to make a model in like a month or so and thought "They gotta at least know he has huge knockers, gotta know he's got back pain." Cause like what is the thematic importance of his tits having overhang?

What responsibility is that representing? Breast reduction? It shows an inherent greed in his character due to the excess and heshouldletmeholdone and that he clearly is blinded cause if he tries to look down his damn ladder all he's seeing is his own cleavage.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - pt. five - I know the end

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

You didn’t talk to Rafe until Wednesday when he texted you before your shift. 

R: can’t wait to see you, pretty girl :) 

Y: me too <3

You wanted to tell him everything so badly, about JJ showing up and everything you went through with him, but you couldn’t do that over the phone. There was no telling what he'd do when he found out. So you waited. You got to the Club before him on Wednesday, clocking in and tending to your tables, which were already full. It was going to be a busy night and usually you would welcome that, it helped pass the time. But, not today. Today, all you wanted was to talk to Rafael. 

You were busy with one of your tables when he walked in. He admired the black cocktail uniform that clung to your body and the way your hair hung in its low ponytail. He felt lucky to know you, to get to watch as you interacted with your regular customers, always kind, no matter the circumstances. You didn’t do it because you had to, you did it because that’s just who you were. You flirted with your eyes as you spotted him and he returned it, a small smile lacing his features. It was thirty minutes before you could get away from your tables due to the dinner rush, but Rafe made a point to stay at the bar until he got a chance to speak to you. Even though looking at you was always enough, he wanted to hear your sweet voice in his ears. 

“Rafael.” 

You whispered into his ear, blowing in it, as you came up behind him. It sent shivers down his spine. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” 

He replied with a smile on his face, finally hearing that voice, that sound he had been craving. You slowly made your way behind the bar so you could stand in front of him and look at his handsome face. Rafe and handsome have always been synonymous words in your brain, but he didn’t need to know that. You quickly got to work, making a drink. A Tequila sunrise. It was your favorite to make, mostly because of how pretty the hues of orange and pink were, hence its name. You sat it in front of Rafe. 

“I didn’t order this-”

“It’s on the house.” 

You replied, winking at him. 

“Well what is it? It looks girly.” 

He chuckled. 

“It’s my favorite. Just try it.” 

You giggled at him and he sipped it slowly. His face shriveled up as the familiar taste of way too much tequila hit his lips. 

“Jesus, Y/n, who taught you how to mix drinks? This is awful.” 

His comment made you chuckle heartily. 

“That would be you, Rafael.” 

He grinned cheekily as he recalled the first time he asked you to make him a margarita, which you failed miserably at, prompting him to teach you how. You had never really mastered the skill of mixing drinks, but he pretended you were okay at it to appease you. Rafe was brought out of his thoughts as he watched your body tense up. He wondered if he had said or did the wrong thing and then he followed your eyes, as they landed on JJ who was across the room with Kiara, sitting in your section. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”

You whispered, hoping Rafe wouldn’t hear you. He reached out, grazing your hand with his fingertips as you vigorously wiped down the wood of the bar. 

“You want me to beat him up, again?” 

Rafe questioned innocently and you chuckled. 

“No, he’s not worth it.” 

“He is if you’re upset.” 

Rafe stated, matter-of-factly.

“It’s not that, it’s just he knows this is my section and he sat in it on purpose. They just want to torture me like it’s not bad enough he slept with my best friend.”

The sadness that laced your voice made Rafe’s chest tight. 

“Go take care of your tables and I’ll be right here the whole time. You just put your hand behind your back and ball up a fist if you need me, okay?” 

You nodded, thankful Rafe chose today of all days to be here. You slowly but surely made your way from behind the bar and headed to the Carrera’s table. 

“Hey guys! How are you?” 

The Carerra’s faces lit up at seeing you. They had no idea why you hadn’t been coming around or the way their daughter had betrayed you. It wasn’t their fault she was a bitch and you weren’t going to punish them for it. 

“Hey, sweet girl! We miss you. Where have you been?” 

Kiara’s mom asked. She was an angel and always had been and you loved her. 

“Just working.”

You gave your ex-best friend’s parents a tight lipped smile. Kiara’s eyes were apologetic even though she had never said she was sorry for what she had done. 

“Well, we miss you. You should come see us soon!” 

Mr. Carerra spoke up. 

“I will. So what can I get you guys?” 

“JJ and I will have two bacon cheeseburgers and a basket of fries to share.” 

Kiara spoke with a cheeky smile, flaunting the consolation prize of her betrayal, a piece of shit pogue boy who is going nowhere. You had never had a problem with the Pogues until you had become one and they all betrayed you by covering up JJ’s infidelity. The Pogues were poison, just like Rafe had warned you all those years ago. 

“I’m gonna hit the head.” 

JJ muttered, surely feeling awkward about Kiara’s incessant need to be a show off. She wasn’t always this awful and you weren’t sure when she had taken a turn for the worst. 

“What about you, Mike?”

You questioned Mr. Carerra. 

“I’ll take the 15 oz ribeye. Medium rare with potatoes and green beans.” 

“Yes, sir. That sounds amazing!” 

You reply with faux enthusiasm.

“You’ll have to pull up a chair with us and grab a bite to eat.” 

He spoke, his kind gesture making your heart melt. 

“I definitely will if I can go on my break soon.” 

You smiled at him. 

“And for you, Anna?” 

You questioned Kiara’s mother. 

“I’ll do the chef salad with ranch, dear. I’d also love a small side of the mac and cheese.” 

She smiled softly, you missed the warmth that you felt when she smiled at you.

“You got it, I’ll be right back with the food. Can I get you guys anything to drink?” 

You asked.

“Just make sweet tea for all of us, sweetheart.” 

Anna spoke kindly and you nodded. 

Rafe watched as you made your way back to the kitchen to make their drinks and put the order in. After a few minutes he began to get a little worried, his radar for you always on high alert. For some reason it was taking you a long time to come back to him and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. That’s when he saw it, JJ Maybank had you cornered in the hallway of the dining room. He stayed back though, knowing you’d give him your signal if you needed help. Rafe was always very protective of you but he always tried to let you fight your own battles. Mostly because once when he defended you in the third grade by beating up the boy who was teasing you, you kicked him in the balls and let him know that you were your own hero. That was the day he realized he loved you. He smiled at the memory of your pigtails and the redness of your cheeks. Then, suddenly, Rafe was brought out of his thoughts at hearing bits and pieces of the venomous words JJ was speaking to you and he sprung into action as he saw your fist balled up behind your back. He made his way over to you, half-running, his protective nature overcoming his logical thinking. 

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?” 

He watched you as you visibly relaxed under his presence, knowing there was no way JJ could hurt you in Rafe’s presence. 

“Hey, Rafey-” 

You were cut off by JJ’s sneer. 

“Everything was perfectly fine until you fucking interrupted our conversation.” 

JJ spat in Rafe's direction.

“I clearly wasn’t asking you douchebag, I was asking her.” 

Rafe responded nonchalantly. You could feel the anger emanating from him, his chest warm on your back, but he was holding back. You knew he was doing it for you. If that didn't prove he wasn't the same rafe you used to know, you didn't know what did.

“Right and here I was thinking you were calling me sweetheart.” 

JJ spoke sarcastically. His sarcasm you used to find endearing, charming even, and now, it just made him more of a dick.

“What a shame JJ. Are you regretting losing my girl, that’s why you got her cornered in a dark hallway. Is Kie not enough for you?” 

And - there it was. Rafe’s tone was laced with danger and he willed JJ to use his words correctly before he killed him with his bare hands. 

“Your girl?! I’m not regretting anything if you must fucking know.” 

JJ spat, almost unable to control his emotions.

“I mean, no judgment at all dude, she’s easily the best girl on this island.” 

Rafe gave him a wink. He was a cocky little bastard when he wanted to be.

“Oh, you’d know, wouldn’t you? Haven’t you had every girl on the island?” 

JJ questioned. He was a real asshole when he wanted to be.

“Could say the same to you, you know since you're passing your dick around like it’s the community pool.” 

Rafe spit back.

“Rafael-”

You spoke softly, feeling the vibration of your glucose monitor go off. You didn’t feel right, something was wrong. You placed your hand limply around his bicep, urging him to back off and call it a day. 

“Rafael? Who the fuck is Rafael and why are you touching him like that?” 

JJ questioned, confusedly. 

“That would be me, big guy.” 

Rafe muttered, raising his two fingers like attendance was being taken in homeroom. 

“I-”

“You know what, if you must know, it’s none of your business how she touches me or how often she uses a nickname with me or how many times she’s kissed me.” 

Rafe growled.

“How many times she what-” 

The hurt and jealousy that laced JJ’s eyes was something you’d never seen before.

“Joseph-” 

You whispered Rafe’s middle name, which got his attention. You never called him Joseph, ever, and when he looked into your eyes he knew something was wrong. It clicked in his brain too late, as he felt you loosen your grip from his arm and he watched in horror as you hit the ground. Your head bounced off the carpet and you started convulsing violently. 

“Angel! No! No, no, no, no, no.” 

Rafe’s panicked voice echoed through the club as he yelled. 

“Turn her on her side! She’s having a diabetic seizure!” 

JJ interjected, yelling as he got down rolling you onto your side while Rafe stabilized your head. 

“JJ, call 911!” 

Rafe screeched.

“I’m on it!” 

He yelled as he ran to grab his phone from the table, meeting Kiara’s eyes as he ran quickly back to you and Rafe. 

“It’s okay, sweet, baby girl. You’re gonna be okay. I’m right here.” 

Rafe whispered as he counted the seconds until your body stopped convulsing. He was careful with your head, scared he’d hurt you or that you would have brain damage when you woke up. Kiara had followed JJ back to Rafe, curious as to why her boyfriend was so distressed. 

“J-”

Her voice faltered as she caught your unconscious form on the carpet of the country club. 

“What the fuck is this? Why are you helping her?!” 

She yelled in JJ’s direction, confusion and hurt, lacing her tone. 

“Kie-, please tell me you’re not so insecure that you care that he’s trying to help me save your best friend from dying right now.” 

Rafe growled in her direction and she made her way back to the table in tears. The ambulance got there quickly and immediately administered insulin and oxygen, which seemed to bring your vitals up. Rafe hopped in the back with you, not caring about leaving his truck at the club. He’d uber to get it later, once he knew you were okay. 

-

When you started to stir, the first thing you noticed was the smell of sterilization and the weight of something pricking the hand of your skin. You were in the hospital. Shit. Willing yourself to pry your eyes open, you slowly blinked, taking in a tall figure, reading a book beside you, one of his hands in yours. You coughed, your throat and mouth extremely dry. His blue eyes met yours and you registered who it was. Rafael. 

He stood up, making his way closer to you, standing over your head, in your line of vision. Rafe’s hands cupped your cheeks and he placed a kiss on your forehead before he spoke. 

“Hey, pretty girl. How are you feeling?” 

You tried to speak but your mouth was dry and then it dawned on you, your dad was going to kill you. You tried to sit up, which was a huge mistake as the movement shook your head a little too hard. Rafe pushed you back down by your shoulders. 

“Easy, Tiger.” 

He spoke softly, bringing a cup of water with a straw up to your lips, as he sat in front of you on the bed. You swallowed vigorously, like it was the first cup of water you’d had in ten years. 

“Slow down, baby.” 

He whispered in a sweet tone. You made eye contact with him after you decided you had enough of the beverage. 

“Rafe, what happened?” 

You questioned, confusedly.

“Your pump stopped working and you had a seizure from not getting your insulin.” 

You nodded your head in response, shock rittling your senses at his words. It shouldn’t have surprised you after how many times it had happened, but it did and it hurt your feelings every single one. 

“Will you lay with me?” 

You asked, as sweet as could be and he couldn't deny you.

“Of course, sweet girl.” 

Rafe crawled into the bed next to you, letting you cuddle into him and lay your head on his chest. His heartbeat brought you solace. He stroked your hair gently, his fingertips barely grazing the strands, and placed a kiss on your bandaged forehead. You had a concussion and some stitches from where you hit your head on the floor and he was as careful as possible when he placed the kiss, scared he’d hurt you. 

“Rafael, thank you for taking care of me and for being here.” 

You praised.

“Anything for you, baby. I’m always going to be here. You can count on that.” 

He smiled into your hairline, continuing to stroke it and you felt immense peace. You couldn’t tell what had changed or why, but you believed him with every fiber of your being. 

-

The next time you woke up, you were in Rafe’s arms, his soft snores infiltrating your ears and the aroma of the hospital room making its way into your nostrils. He had been at your beck and call for the last three days and he was tired, he needed the rest. You shifted your body, though careful not to move too quickly, afraid you’d wake him. Looking up at his sweet face, you traced your fingers down the bridge of his nose. How could one person be this perfect? You pondered. It was more than his chiseled jaw that you had always admired or his tan skin, he had begun to show you that he was a good man and that’s something you hadn’t seen in him in a long time, maybe ever. It made you love him in a way that you never had. A soft knock on the door took you out of your thoughts and you were praying to God that whoever it was wouldn’t wake up the giant man sleeping soundly next to you. Then, you saw brown hair with highlights peek through the crack of the door and you realized it was Topper. He peeked his head all the way through the door, and a bright smile littered his face. Kelce followed his lead, as he knocked softly again, making sure it was okay to come through the threshold of the hospital room. 

“Knock, knock.” 

He whispered and was surprised when he was met with your eyes instead of Rafe’s. 

“Shh.” 

You spoke, motioning your pointer finger to your lips in an attempt to keep him quiet. Seeing Rafe so still and soft, in an almost childlike state while sleeping was enough to make you swoon and you wanted him to stay this way as long as possible. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one resting?” 

Topper teased as he brought a balloon that read “it’s a girl!” to your bedside. It made you giggle. 

“Sorry, they ran out of “Sorry you have diabetes” balloons.” 

Kelce quipped. Your giggle was now a full-fledged belly laugh. "These two idiots!", you thought. As your laugh erupted from your stomach, Rafe began to stir, shifting his weight in the small bed. You lifted your hand, running your fingertips softly through the hair that was now hanging in his face. He nestled his face into your shoulder, curling his long legs into his stomach. There’s no way he’s comfortable, you thought. But you also didn’t have the heart to wake him. 

“I want him to sleep as long as possible, he’s been up for days worrying about me.” 

You spoke flatly and the boys understood the sentiment of your words. They cared deeply for both of you. 

“When are they saying you’ll be able to go home?” 

Kelce probed, wanting you to feel as normal as possible as soon as possible. 

“This afternoon, I think.” 

He placed his hand on your shoulder. 

“That’s good, pretty girl. You know he’s not going to leave your side, right?” 

You playfully rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, the same way you two were the last time.” 

You joked.

“The last time you almost died. This isn’t that.” 

Topper’s tone was cold and he didn’t mean it to be, but he didn’t understand your calm, cool, and collected nature when it came to such traumatic events with your health. The room grew eerily silent and you were the first to break it. 

“Let’s not talk about that in front of Rafe, okay?” 

Both boys simply nodded their heads in response, understanding of your wishes. Topper and Kelce stayed for about an hour before deciding to go. Rafe stirred awake not long after they had departed from the room.

“Pretty girl. What time is it?” 

He asked, his eyes fluttering open to see yours staring up at him. His voice was gruff and sexy like only boys can be when they’ve first woken up.

“Well, good morning handsome. It’s 1pm.” 

You responded with a light chuckle.

“Gosh, How long have I been asleep?” 

“Since last night around 11.” 

He nodded his head, his still sleepy response was noted by you. 

“Did someone come to visit or did I dream about that?” 

You giggled, placing your hand on his cheek softly, rubbing your thumb back and forth underneath his eye. 

“It wasn't a dream, Topper and Kelce were here this morning.” 

You whispered sweetly, bringing your hands up to his hair, stroking lightly. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” 

His eyebrows furrowed as he asked the question.

“You needed the sleep, Rafael. You’ve been awake, worrying about me for the last three days and that won’t do either of us any good.” 

He brought your chin up with his thumb and pointer finger, wanting your eyes to meet his, and placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“It’s my job to worry about you.” 

-

You were discharged from the hospital not long after Rafe had woken up, which you kind of despised, you wished he would’ve stayed asleep and gotten as much rest as he needed. The past few days had taken a toll on him and they would have taken a toll on anybody. No one wakes up and expects the girl they love to have a seizure and be put in the hospital. He had never seen you this fragile and that thought alone ate him alive. He hated that he couldn’t do anything to protect you from this. This wasn’t some mouthy pogue or a handsy touron he could punch out and call it a day, nestling you safely into his arms after disposing of the threat. This was an illness, a disease, that no one had control over, that no one could predict and even the best safety measures couldn’t protect you from a failing insulin pump. That part of it destroyed him. But the part of it that didn’t was seeing you be strong through all of it. You made jokes at your own expense, which was how you coped. You had done that for years with a lot of things. You did it the day you got your braces on when you were afraid of how Rafe would perceive your new appearance. Spoiler alert: he thought you were beautiful. You did it when your grandma died and when your parents fought and even when JJ cheated on you. The only thing you had never done it about was Rafe. His absence was the only thing that hurt too bad to joke about. He admired the fact that you could joke about your illness and how annoyed you got when he fussed over you, especially today, as he was driving you to his house from the hospital. When they had wheeled you out of the front doors of the hospital, Rafe gently lifted your body with his strong arms and placed you into the passenger seat of his truck. He made sure you were comfortable before lacing his hands through the seatbelt, stretching it across your body and buckling you in, the familiar click as the extender and the buckle met filtering through the car.  

“Rafe, I can buckle myself. My arms are in perfect working condition.” 

You scoffed, his incessant need to take care of you getting on your nerves. 

“I know you can. Just let me dote on you today, okay?” 

His voice was almost pleading. You gave him a reassuring nod, knowing that this is what he needed at the moment, even if you didn’t. You smiled, you loved this soft side of him, but eventually, it'd have to stop. Diabetes was something you’d been dealing with on your own for years. You didn’t need the hovering or the constant worry from your brown-haired, blue-eyed lover. You needed him to know you were strong and capable, not this weak damsel in distress he thought you were. You decided you would give it a day and have a conversation with him if it hadn’t stopped by the end of the week. As he made sure you were okay, he made his way to the driver’s side and started the truck, heading for Tannyhill. Your parents were in Thailand for business and couldn’t get back in time for you to be discharged, which you were thankful for. You didn’t need the wrath of your father right now, your brain and body still too tired from the trauma they endured. Rafe had told your mother you could stay at Tannyhill until they got home, which would be a week from today and he couldn’t help but be excited at having you this close for this long. You fell asleep on the ride home to Rafe’s, the slinging of gravel under his tires making you stir, as he pulled to the front of the house. He quickly got out and made his way to your side of the car, opening your door and unbuckling you, before lifting you in his arms once more and carrying you inside. The shift in your surroundings made you groan. 

“Mmmm.” 

You grunted out, Rafe’s lips turned up in a smile. 

“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay. We’re home. I’m gonna take you to bed.” 

He whispered in your ear. 

“Mmmm, Rafey.” 

You said it like his name was the yummiest thing your tongue had ever tasted, a sleepy smile plastered on your face. As he opened the door, you felt yourself wanting to fight, wanting to prove to him you could do it yourself, but your body was too tired to try and argue with the comforting embrace of the boy you loved. You took in the smell of him as you heard him telling his family not to talk above a whisper while making his way through the living room. He smelled like sea salt, whiskey, and expensive cologne - a familiar smell for many reasons, it reminded you of home, the island, the stupid pretentious parties, and the ocean you’d grown to love the sight of. However, it reminded you of home because he was stitched in every memory of you being in these places, in this atmosphere. The smell was bliss, the smell was Rafe. 

“Please if you talk to her or around her, talk in a whisper. She’s got a concussion and ten stitches on her forehead. If she’s in a room, the lights need to be off, at least until tomorrow.” 

Rafe whisper-yelled over your half-asleep form, to his family before walking up the stairs. 

“Don’t worry, son. We got it. We’ve dealt with a concussion before.” 

Ward giggled because his son had had six concussions in his football career, they knew very well how to take care of one, but Rafe’s protective nature shined through and allowed him to forget that. He loved that his son cared this deeply for another person, there was a time when he wondered if he ever would. 

Rafe slowly but surely carried you up the stairs to his bedroom, laying you down in his usual resting place, which was the comfiest place on the mattress. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. Luckily, you were dressed in cozy clothes so he didn’t have to wake you. Instead, he brought the blankets under your chin and slid in next to you, falling asleep fast as he clung to your small frame. 

-

When you woke the next morning, Rafe was no longer next to you, which made you curious, so you made your way out of bed and slowly peered down the hallway. There was no sign of him in the bathroom or any of the bedrooms upstairs. You peered eerily over the edge of the staircase banister, looking for any sign of him. 

“Rafael” 

You called out and he came barreling up the stairs from around the corner in the kitchen. You admired him in his domestic form, basketball shorts, t-shirt, and messy hair. A still sleepy smile danced across his face as he took in the sight of you. He hadn’t been awake very long. 

“Pretty girl, good morning.” 

He spoke with a smile, making his way up to you, and placing a kiss on your hairline. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” 

He questioned.

“I couldn’t find you” 

You brought your lips to a pout and it sent a shiver down his spine. He loved that you wanted to be so close to him. You were enamored by everything that he was and you couldn’t get enough. 

“You want some coffee? I made your favorite.” 

You were confused. How could he possibly know what your favorite coffee is? You had been not speaking for the last two years, there was no way he had made you the right thing.

“Which would be what?” 

You questioned, confusion lacing your face. 

“White chocolate mocha with ½ and ½ instead of milk and an extra shot of white chocolate.” 

“Rafe, how did you know?” 

“I’ve just paid attention and it helps that you’ve had the same coffee order since we were 13.” 

He joked and you gushed internally, your core became warm at his sentiment, leaving you flustered and on edge. 

“Rafael, that’s so sweet, thank you.” 

You whispered as you pulled him in for a tight hug. 

“Let’s go downstairs and get you that coffee.” 

He spoke sweetly and you followed him down the staircase. When you had made it to the kitchen, you noted that Rafe had all kinds of coffee and syrups lining the island, where he was topping your cup off with whipped cream. It was a surprise that Rafe was an actual coffee drinker, not a poser who orders the closest thing to a milkshake he can find at every coffee shop. Rafe pulled a barstool out for you to sit on from underneath the island and helped you onto it before sliding it close to the edge of the countertop. 

“Rafael, when did you become such a coffee whore?” 

You asked innocently, not realizing how funny the remark was. Rafe let out a belly laugh. 

“Uh, my mom got me into drinking it right before she passed. It was something I clung to when she died. The warmth of a good cup of coffee reminds me of her hugs.” 

He spoke with a smile. 

“Well, now I feel like an asshole.” 

You muttered, a grimace on your face. 

“What do you mean? Why?” 

 “I thought you were going to have some douchey frat boy response. Like, you started drinking it to get a girl’s attention or something.” 

Rafe chuckled at you being so taken aback by him. 

“No, I’m not that guy anymore.” 

“Yeah, I’m starting to see that.” 

You mumbled what you thought was quietly, but evidently not quiet enough, as Rafe’s eyes went wide at your confession. 

“Let me take you on a date today.” 

He spoke softly, timidness dancing across his body language. You smiled at him brightly and when he looked at his feet, waiting for you to tell him no, you lifted his chin with your thumb and pointer finger. 

“Hey, don’t do that.” 

“Sorry-”

“No, I mean, don’t go to the bad place in your head. Everything’s fine, baby. I thought you’d never ask.” 

He smiled as widely as he could. 

“Okay, well let’s get some food in your stomach and then we’ll get ready and make a day out of it. Do you feel okay enough for that?” 

“Yeah, I feel fine. But, what do you mean? Where are you taking me?” 

You looked confused. You had never really been on a real date, JJ didn’t have very much money, which was never an issue for you. You didn’t mind paying for whatever the two of you did. But, even still he lacked romance and creativity. There was never a movie date or a day at the beach, just the two of you. It was all about the Pogues all the time and that was one of the many reasons you didn’t miss him. 

“That I cannot reveal yet, sweetheart.” 

He smiled cheekily and it made your heart warm. You were excited and you knew Rafe wasn’t going to disappoint. Rafe Cameron wasn’t known for romance, yet you believed he had something special up his sleeves. He made eggs, bacon, and toast with jelly, which was your favorite kind of breakfast. You appreciated how thoughtful he was. After you finished eating, he asked you to go get dressed and pack a bag. 

“Did you get enough to eat, sweetheart?” 

He questioned, always aware of the sugar demon that lived inside your bloodstream now. Apart from worrying about your sugar, he just wanted to make sure you were full, which you appreciated. 

“Yes, Rafael. I’m full.” 

You smiled in his direction, before hopping off the barstool and heading upstairs to take a shower, wanting to look your best for your date with him. 

“Do you mind picking out my clothes since I’m not allowed to know what we’re doing?” 

You questioned, turning around as you reached the bottom of the staircase, meeting his blue eyes that were boring into the back of your head already. 

“Absolutely, sweetheart. I’d love to.” 

He gave you a reassuring nod as you turned around and made your way up the staircase, smiling like an idiot over the fact that you caught him staring at you. As you reached the top of the stairs, you realized you were already winded and tired, an after effect of your recent health scare. You made your way into Rafe’s room, which had a connecting bathroom. You quickly grabbed your insulin and bath supplies, knowing you’d need to change your pump when you got out and made your way into the bathroom, where you stripped yourself of your clothes and turned on the water. You liked the water scalding hot, you always joked that you like to feel like you’re in the pits of hell until your shower is over and the cool air of the bathroom brushes up against your naked skin. You removed the old insulin pump, discarding it into the trash, and hopped in the shower. You didn’t waste much time, but you did let the hot water soothe your muscles for a bit before you washed your hair and body and it felt so good. When you were done, you exited the shower, grabbing Rafe’s towel from the drying rack and wrapping it around your body. You made your way into the bedroom, where you found a beautiful, white lace sundress with a note attached to it. 

A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl. Saw this downtown last week and it reminded me of you. What a perfect day to wear it, yeah? I packed your bag with all the necessary snacks and medicine and put a bathing suit in there for you too. The white one-piece you wore on the druthers, it’s my favorite.

X, 

Rafael

You audibly gasped at how thoughtful Rafe had been and there you were, smiling like an idiot in the middle of his bedroom. You put on your bra and underwear and called his name, wanting him to come to help you with applying a new insulin pump. Today was as good a day as any for him to learn how to do it. 

“Rafael!” 

You bellowed out his name and he came up the stairs quickly, you could hear his feet hitting each mahogany panel. He knocked softly, not wanting to disturb you if you weren’t decent. You slowly slid the dress up your legs, so he could only see your bra. 

“You can come in, I need your help.” 

He swung the door open at that, afraid you were sick or in trouble in some other way. His eyes landed on you, sitting on his bed, with the dress he had bought you covering your bottom half, nothing but your bra covering your top. 

“Woah.” 

He whispered, a smirk tracing his lips. 

“Easy, tiger. I need help with my pump. There’s no fire anywhere.” 

You giggled softly at him. He looked so afraid when he swung the door open.

“Okay, pretty girl, tell me what to do.” 

“I have everything ready. I just need you to plunge it into my skin, somewhere it won’t show in this dress.” 

“Is your stomach okay?” 

He questioned you, watching as you inserted the insulin into the pump and let it prime. As much as you wanted to tell him, no, to run, to scream, to hide - you couldn’t. Your stomach was the best place for the pump, but it was also a place you didn’t want Rafe to look at. Over the last two years, your stomach had become littered with scars from failed pump sites and it made you insecure about your body. This is why you stuck to one-piece bathing suits. 

“U-uh, yeah.” 

Rafe noticed the shift in your behavior and he didn’t take it lightly. 

“Hey, pretty girl, what’s the matter?” 

You stared down at him, as he was now rocking on the balls of his feet and squatted in front of you. 

“It’s just, my stomach, it isn’t pretty anymore, okay?”

“What do you mean? Everything about you is pretty.” 

“I have a lot of scars from my pump on my stomach. It’s probably better if I show you.” 

He nodded gingerly and you delicately pushed the dress down to your hips, revealing the fullness of your tiny waist and belly. The scars that littered it were discolored, some black, and brown, and the oldest ones were white. Some were longer and larger than the others. You swallowed thickly as you watched Rafe’s blue eyes take in the tattered skin and you let a tear fall from your eye. You hoped he didn’t notice, but he did. 

“Hey, this doesn’t change anything. Everybody has scars. It’s okay, baby.” 

“I’m ugly, Rafe.” 

“Believe me, darling, you are the furthest thing there ever was from ugly and a few scars won’t change my mind. I have scars too.” 

“Y-you do?” 

“Yeah, look, this is from that time you pushed me off my bike when we were seven. Remember I had all those stitches?” 

He asked, pointing to his face, which he had landed on when he fell. You chuckled to yourself. He had pissed you off so bad that day when he wouldn’t let you play with his spiderman action figures. 

“Yeah, I remember. Sorry, I was a bitch.” 

You laughed and Rafe wiped some of the tears off your face. 

“You’ve never been a bitch. I promise.” 

You sniffled and smiled at him, thankful for his kind words. 

“Everybody has scars, sweet girl. They make us who we are, they’re proof we’ve lived. You’ve just lived a lot of life.” 

You hugged him tightly, his fingers tracing the skin of your bare back. 

“Okay, pick a spot on my belly and stick it there.” 

“How’s here?” 

He asked, placing the pump close to your naval. 

“That’s great. Just hold it there until you hear the click.” 

He did as he was told, holding it until he heard the audible click of the needle going into your fragile skin. You grimaced. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” 

His brows furrowed in concern. 

“I’m okay, Rafael. It’s just the needle.” 

Your response seemed to soothe him enough because the next thing you knew his hands had traveled to your hips and he began helping you pull the dress up over your middle and placed the straps securely on your shoulders. He turned you around to look in the mirror. 

“How’s that, pretty girl? Do you like it?” 

“I love it, Rafe. Thank you so much.” 

-

Shortly after your bedroom excursion, you and Rafe were ready to go, you still clueless as to where he was taking you or what your date entailed. He led you outside to his truck, grabbing the bag he had packed for you and placing it on the backseat floorboard. When he opened the back passenger door, you noticed there was a picnic basket with pink tulips hanging out the side of it. They were your favorite flower, which Rafe definitely knew. You smirked at this small detail. So far he was blowing your expectations out of the water, which you had no doubt he would. He helped you into the passenger seat, buckling you yet again. You were starting to think this had less to do with your fragility and more to do with the fact that he just liked doing it. 

You and Rafe quickly arrived downtown, walking around all your favorite boutiques and shops. As you walked down the cobblestone streets of Kildare, Rafe reached for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. You could’ve sworn you had died and gone to heaven. You had loved this boy as long as you could remember and even your wildest of fantasies would’ve never given you the idea he’d ever want you like this. You watched the ground as you walked, eyes on your feet and you felt his eyes boring a hole into the side of your head. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know?” 

You spoke freely, letting out a giggle and Rafe rolled his eyes playfully. 

“I just wanted to look at you.” 

He spoke softly. 

“Why?” 

“Cause you’re beautiful.” 

He spoke with more fire this time, saying the words boldly, with purpose. He wasn’t trying to make a move, or get you to sleep with him, he just needed you to know and you sensed that he meant it. 

“You make me feel good, Rafe.” 

“Well, that’s kinda the whole point of this. If I’m ever not making you feel good, then that’s when we should reevaluate what we’re doing.” 

You smiled at him and nodded, knowing he needed you to understand what he was saying, that’d you tell him if ever wasn’t making you feel good. 

“You want some ice cream, beautiful?” 

Your face lit up and Rafe giggled. You were always in the mood for ice cream, something he noted when you were thirteen. Every time he has ever asked if you wanted ice cream, your answer has been yes. 

“You know I do.” 

You snorted at his knowledge of you, at his ability to read you like a book. He nodded and you made your way into the ice cream shop. Rafe made you sit at a table while he ordered and when he brought you the ice cream you beamed up at him. 

“Mint chocolate chip, you remembered!” 

You exclaimed. It was like Rafe’s thoughts were consumed by you, it seemed he knew everything there was to know about you. 

“I remember everything about you, honey.” 

You blushed at his remark. You were thankful for this day with him. It was simple and domestic and freeing and you were just thankful. 

“This has been fun, Rafael. Thank you.” 

You smiled sweetly, meeting his blue eyes with yours, blushing again. 

“You’re welcome, pretty girl. But, it’s not over yet. I have one more surprise for you.” 

“What else could you possibly have up your sleeve?” 

You questioned him with a belly laugh, thinking this sweet boy had already gone above and beyond for you. You both finished off your ice cream and Rafe led you back to the truck, following his routine of buckling you in before he made his way inside. He definitely liked doing it, no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it. 

The ride was quiet and after fifteen minutes, he pulled into the public beach parking lot. He helped you out of the vehicle once again, grabbing the picnic basket, along with your bag of necessities, and placing it on his shoulders. He carried that bag as if his life depended on it. Once you made it down to the sand, he laid out the white knitted blanket he had brought with him and instructed you to sit down, while he unpacked the picnic basket. 

“These are for you. I know they’re your favorite.” 

Rafe spoke matter-of-factly, pulling the pink tulips out of the basket and handing them to you. Your smile was giddy and you couldn’t contain yourself. You’d jump his bones right here if you knew you wouldn’t get arrested. 

“Rafe, these are so beautiful!” 

You exclaimed, joy written on your features. He loved that look on you. The joy. 

“I’m glad you like them.” 

He giggled and put his arm around you, placing his hand on the other side of your hip in the sand. 

“You just seem to know all my favorite things.” 

Blush infiltrated the pores of your cheeks. 

“It’s not hard if you pay attention.” 

His words meant more to you than anyone’s ever had before, but the truth of them stung. This is what love is supposed to feel like, to be like and now you know why you didn’t miss JJ. Because he wasn’t the one and Rafe was. Rafe’s next line of questioning brought you out of your head. 

“Are you hungry, sweet girl?” 

He questioned with soft eyes. 

“I could eat.” 

You replied, a soft smile on your lips. 

“PB & J or Turkey and Mayo?” 

He asked, pulling two sandwiches out of the basket. 

“PB & J.” 

You replied. 

He ever so slowly plated the sandwiches and put apple slices with caramel sauce beside them. 

“Here you go, m’lady.” 

“Rafe, this is so sweet.” 

You gushed, heart almost bursting at the seams for the effort he put into this. 

“Water or champagne?” 

His line of questioning continued.

“Depends, what are we celebrating?” 

“Just me, being here, with you.” 

“Champagne it is then.” 

Rafe took the two glasses out of the picnic basket, handing you yours to hold while he poured it. He looked up at your face, golden hour making the hues of orange, yellow, and pink dance across your face. He noticed something on your cheek, right near your lip - a scar, medium size, white in color, in a jagged line. His fingers traced over it as he finished pouring your beverage. You shied away from his touch. 

“I’m sorry, angel.” 

He looked defeated, afraid he had done the wrong thing. This perfect day, did he just fuck it up? He wondered. 

“It’s okay. No worries.” 

You smiled at him and leaned into him, placing your head on his shoulder. 

“Can you tell me what that’s from?” 

He asked. He needed to know at some point, you knew that. But, that didn’t mean the conversation would be easy or that he wouldn’t get angry. 

“Trust me, you don’t want to know, Rafe.” 

He was taken aback, what was so bad that you thought he wouldn’t want to know. He wanted to know about every scar that littered your body. 

“Believe me when I say this, I most certainly do.” 

You huffed, loudly.

“You promise you won’t get mad?” 

“I promise, angel.” 

Your vision clouded with unshed tears, you had never had to explain to him the abuse you face from JJ and it would never be easy to talk about. 

“I-it’s from JJ.” 

You let the words sit in the thick air between you and Rafe. 

“What do you mean it’s from JJ?” 

Rafe’s eyes were laced with bewilderment and confusion. 

“F-from the first t-time.” 

Your voice became shaky, weak. 

“The first time for what, y/n?” 

“The f-first time he punched me in the f-face.”

“What the fuck did you just say?! He punched you in the face?!” 

Rafe questioned, a fire in his eyes that you’d never seen before. 

“Y-you said you wouldn’t get mad.” 

Rafe looked up at you, tears falling freely down your face. 

“Hey, hey, I’m not mad, baby. Come here.” 

He reached out for you and lunged for him, clinging as tightly as you could to his middle, crying into his button-down. 

“Tell me what happened, angel. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’d never hurt you. I’d never dream of putting my hands on you, of hurting you.” 

He rocked you back and forth, peppering kisses into your hairline. Waiting until your breathing had become normal before he stopped, just sitting with his chin on top of your head. 

“He abused me the entire year we were together. It started when I told him I wasn’t ready to lose my virginity, that I was saving it for the right person.” 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” 

“The first time he hit me, I still had braces on my teeth. Cut right through my cheek, that’s what the scar is from. I had to get 7 stitches.” 

He didn’t say anything, mostly because he knew that there was nothing he could say to make it better. He just squeezed you tighter and wondered how the fuck he was going to kill JJ Maybank. 

“Listen, angel, I don’t want you working at the club with him.” 

Rafe’s tone revealed how uneasy he truly was.” 

“I know. The first day you came to see me at work, he showed up that night. Told me to remember who I belonged to. I haven’t felt safe without you there, ever since.” 

“Baby, let me talk to dad and see how serious he is about wanting you to come work for him.” 

“You’d do that?” 

You looked up at him, shocked he would help you find work elsewhere when he didn’t have to. It wasn’t his responsibility. 

“You have no idea the things I’d do for you, sweet girl.” 

The words were heavy and somehow you knew he meant every single one. 

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt

[yaseraphine]

short-medium mercury observations bcuz I am feeling silly

A little silly astro obs until I am finished with the capricorn rising one. This post is just leo mercury non sense please don't mind me

I feel like a lot of water mercuries, especially scorpio mercuries, don’t talk much. They tend to observe, analyze and stay kind of out of the conversation. They only speak when it’s necessary. The opposite of a yapper basically

They also tend to have deep voices, both for men and women.

Capricorn mercuries can be a bit like this too. Really dry texters (as a leo mercury it gives me anxiety i feel like they hate me when they talk to me.. like if you hate me just tell me ☹️💔😭)

I genuinely don’t understand capricorns, and capricorn energy. Except when it’s in the ascendant or Venus, their energy is unreadable to me. Whenever I interact with a Capricorn, I feel like they hate me and don’t want to be there because they are not really expressive when they speak and are really direct and realists in their talking style. As a Leo mercury, I feel so judged 🫠😟Like if you hate me just say that💔😭😫

I am super expressive when I speak, kind of like a theater kid. Kind of like the voices in cartoons. Overtly excited when saying worldly stuff, like talking about the weather in the most dramatic way. When I speak, my tone goes up and down, it feels like you’re on a roller coaster when you interact with me. I have had people coming to me many times in the streets or the library telling me that I am too loud and that I should lower my voice to be respectful lol💀🤡💩 sorry😀

Aries and Leo mercuries, sometimes sag mercuries : we can’t shut the f up to save our lives lol the number of times i have been kicked out of class with my friends at school for being too loud, and laughing too much i can’t even count help-💀🤪🤠

Mercury in Sagittarius are so funny but at the same time so cringe my mom has it and she always makes corny dad jokes and she’s always the only one laughing at the diner table lmaoo

Mercuries in Gemini are so fucking smart, not in a genius way, but they can pick up on stuff so easily. Like understanding a text, or seeing the main points of a text without reading it in its entirety. They are really good at making connections between things, and connections that make sense. They are generally as logical as virgo mercuries, but they lack the meticulous side. They are pretty much to me a virgo mercury with ADHD on crack lol I'd say instead of being smart, they are more so perceptive, insightful or astute.

Some Mercury in Pisces sometimes speak so cryptically that it gets hard to understand, once they open their mouths, where they are going with what they’re trying to say. Their talking style is kind of surreal and romantic. They tend to create new words, and change up the grammar and verb conjugations. Their sensitivity and capacity to perceive things that cannot be seen by the naked eye is what makes them invent those words, because the already existing vocabulary isn’t enough to express this hyper specific thing or feeling they have.

Mercury in Pisces and Mercury in Virgo were placements that I found in the biggest readers I know. Both love reading and writing, and they have a thing for romance novels or fantasy books from what I've seen. Really delulu people in their own respective ways 🫡 but at the same time really talented 😁😍

the type of fiction virgo and pisces mercuries be writing on AO3 and Quotev instead of being productive members of society :

i just know a pisces mercury was behind this soul crushing poem 😞😔😿🫂

[forestfrolickingfairy78]

Linked Universe Headcanons: What I think each of their roles would be in a boy band

I'm surprised how popular my prev one was! I was chatting to a non fan friend and she was curious what they would be like in a band, and asked me who the rapper would be...I reckon WILD hahah

Anyways...

Time: Not an active member but used to be a solo artist back in the day, he doesn't like being in the limelight as much and mentors/manages the rest of them. Still has that suave quality, a total heart throb and occasionally hosts a one off concert only available to the VIPS. He was the IT boy back in the day.

Warriors: Leader of the band and all rounder. He's a complete heartbreaker, can sing, and dance every style and fans go crazy over him. Very charismatic and flirty, knows how to make a fan feel special at a meet and greet and always takes a photo with them.

Twilight: I think lead guitarist, can sing beautifully and has one of the most charming voices, also very yeehaw and country when he goes on solo tour dates or drops his album. He's dripping with quiet confidence and doesn't share too much about his private life to fans, likes to keep a boundary between his private and professional life but will always be kind of them and never deny a photo or autograph

Sky: Has a beautiful voice, more shy and s o f t, he's one of the more quieter members and doesn't like being on camera as much but doesn't hate it either. Has that sweet prince charming vibe that everyone loves, would probably be a part time model on top of his band duties. Can play the guitar and bass

Wild: Absolute hardcore. He's def the main rapper and won't pass up the chance to drop any bars. He'll def go on rap battle tv shows and break EVERYONE. Mans got flow and swag, especially after getting a full arm of tattoos. What's the backstory behind them? He'll change it everytime he's on an interview. Absolute coolest dude on earth, fans LOVE him and how chill he is but you don't want to get on this guy's bad side or you'll be on his diss track list. Even the others are slightly scared of him. Always on social media posting selfies and updates, or threatening other artists that come for him or his band. Likes to film the other members to until Time tells him to cut it out and touch grass

Legend: I can see him having a lot of range in his voice, very powerful and can sing ballads. One of the lead singers and occasionally helps with writing songs. He CAN dance if he puts his heart and soul into it. He loves writing poetry and secretly writes love songs for himself based on a special girl, but he'll tear them up before anyone sees them. Would Probably records an incredible, heartfelt song he wrote and composed himself on his instagram then delete it after 5 hours beccause he'll be like, why the hell did I just do that? Fans would cry, wishing he would post more gems like that. Hates to be in the front but also fairly confident in his skills. Fans adore him because you can just see he's actually a big softie on the inside despite that tough exterior he puts up. Secretly jealous of Wild's rap ability, can't rap to save his life but maybe, one day.

Hyrule:

One of the lead singers, has the most melodic voice and can absolutely stun a crowd with his angelic vocals. Like Legend, also is one of the members with the most range. You know when you see someone in person and their just glowing? Yea, that's him. Sweetest celeb ever, everyone that's worked with him only has good things to say about this guy. Definitely has the most potential to go solo as well with his incredible piano skills. Can also play almost every other instrument, an absolute talent in everything. He also sponsors charities every now and then and interacts with fans on social media. Can do contemporary dance

Wind/Four: Tbh I think they would be good in broad way, both are great singers and still very much fanboys to the others. Their working their way, still in training. Can definitely see Wind going big on broadway and theatre and specialising in tap dance

Can you guess who is my bias? Or who's your bias? hehe

[sk-touchthesun]

It has been a bit over a month since the first time I watched Dead Boy Detectives and I now have watched it from start to finish four times. Oops. I don't know how that happened—I certainly wasn't prepared for this level of love for a series.

Since I haven't really been in any fandoms or tumblr in, like... ten years or whatever, I wanted to write about why I fell in love with Dead Boy Detectives when I saw the series for the first time. I don't know if anyone's interested in reading a long-ish post, but in case you are, buckle up because this is going to be pure love and positivity from start to finish. It's mainly about Edwin and Charles, though.

I started watching the show without any background information and never having seen the Sandman either. I rotate streaming services and it was Netflix's turn. I read queer fiction quite a lot and watch queer movies and series as a hobby, and remembered someone mentioning Dead Boy Detectives.

The beginning on the series was intriguing enough already, but it was during this scene that I knew I was going to watch the entire thing:

This leads me to the reason I love the series so much: the carrying force of the story is the love Edwin and Charles have for each other, be it platonic or romantic. I'm a sucker for themes like found family and being loved as your authentic self because that's something I crave. I have always been more or less lonely because of social anxiety and struggling with social situations. Perhaps that's why stories containing those themes have such a profound effect on me each time.

Of course, the way the series combines elements of horror and comedy with heartwarming and wholesome sweetness is delightfully refreshing in itself. Dead Boy Detectives kept me glued to the screen so that I finished it in a day the first time I watched it. However, the characters are what makes the show so brilliant. I think the cast in general is phenomenal, but it's the love between Edwin and Charles that I felt most while watching.

This obviously is where I have to praise George Rexstrew and Jayden Revri for their acting. I think it's largely thanks to them that I love Edwin and Charles so much. Their characters' chemistry and the fond way Edwin and Charles interact with each other in the series is something I felt viscerally right from the beginning. It's obviously ingrained in the overall plot, but the love can also be felt in the smallest gestures. How many shows do you have where your favorite character dying is one of your favorite moments in the series because it's so sweet? (I'm sure you can deduce my favorite character from this...)

Personally, I also think that George Rexstrew and Jayden Revri's acting is particularly spellbinding during the moments their characters break down and show raw emotion. In an odd way the characters' suffering is what makes episodes like The Case of the Devlin House and The Case of the Very Long Stairway so brilliant. The characters' emotions during their most vulnerable moments are so tangible.

I know there has been talk about how season two would look like if the series was revived, and honestly, I think there's one crucial thing that should be kept as it is or the entire thing would be ruined: the carrying force of the show being that Edwin and Charles are willing to do anything to not to get separated.

I can't see any universe where someone becomes more important to the two main characters than what they're to each other. Charles says that Edwin is the only person he'd go to Hell for. We know how Edwin feels. The love is there already. If either of them had a long-lasting romance with someone else, the love interest would get two with the price of one. Equally important? Well—possibly. Love isn't finite. More important? Never.

I'd like to see Edwin and Charles get together, though. They're like an old married couple already and I can't imagine them being together with anyone else in the long run. At least the first season left things open enough for interpretation, with the cancellation and all.

Last but not least, it's a bit crazy that I only saw the show for the first time a bit over a month ago and was ready to splurge on a cameo. It was my birthday during the gameoden week and I got a birthday message! It was very sweet and has cheered me up ever since. I'm not sharing it here because I feel it's a bit personal with my birthday and all, but I loved it.

In case you ended up reading all this, thanks for reading my love letter for the show and the characters and the actors!

[jifloulette]

kyotani kentaro pre bf and bf hcs because im in my kyotani brainrot era once again.. (slight ooc?)

note ; pls i love mad-dog kun so bad it's not funny anymore, i may have gone overboard because of how many i made.. this has been rotting in my notes app so this was DUE 💜

pre bf kyotani who you tried so hard to become friends with because you thought you could make him smile and laugh for the first time in his life, you thought you could change him from being a mad-dog to a cheery, joyful one !

pre bf kyotani who you ask to teach you how to play volleyball — starting with the simple terms like how to serve overhand, what a service ace is, how to block a spike, etcera etcera !

pre bf kyotani who blurts out that he's starting to really enjoy your presence around him. when you ask him why, he'll say it's because you were the first person to treat him nicely, to greet him with a smile and continue to interact with him despite his scary aura !

pre bf kyotani who realizes that you mean so much more to him, that you were becoming something that he regularly enjoys hanging around with !

pre bf kyotani who tries so hard to be romantic when he confesses, leaving a note in your locker asking you to meet him by the volleyball court and when you see him, his gaze goes from your figure to the ground while his face reddens !

pre bf kyotani who then says what he's been meaning to say the second he finds out he likes- no, he loves you. from complimenting your beautiful eyes to telling you how much he cherishes you and wishes you to be his !

pre bf kyotani who now becomes your boyfriend when you accept to his confession by kissing his lips quickly before running away, leaving him confused and lovestruck !

♡

bf kyotani who is mean to everyone and everything except for you. he could and will get mad at his teammates, a random stray dog who keeps barking at him, hell, he even got mad at a random lamp post he had accidentally run into — sometimes, you have to stop him from attacking almost anything that gets in his way !

bf kyotani who now learns how to lower his guard and learns how to become gentle for you, his significant other. he doesn't want to accidentally lash out on the only person he adores so much !

bf kyotani who regularly gets questions from his teammates when you go to their practice and give him a kiss or two on the cheeks, asking him how he'd pull someone as sweet and bubbly as you !

bf kyotani he appreciates you wait for him during volleyball practice sitting down on the bleachers, doing your homework to pass by the time !

bf kyotani who will def give you a piggyback ride whenever you say your feet hurt due to how long you guys have been walking. acting all tough and strong but the second you kiss his neck once you're on his back, he melts immediately !

bf kyotani who will always go buy your favorite drink at the vending machine before he goes picks you up at your last class of the day so you guys can walk home together just so you can have enough energy to talk to him about your day. he'll never admit it but just hearing you ramble about whatever makes him fall in love with you more !

bf kyotani who will always snuggle up in your arms and sometimes cry whenever he loses a match, he trusts you as his s/o to know the words and actions to make him feel better !

bf kyotani who will hug you from behind and put his chin on top of your head whilst glaring at the person you were talking to which leads to that person excusing themselves because of the tall man's stares !

bf kyotani who will always split whatever he's eating in half and give the bigger piece to you, whenever you thank him, his face will pinken. and when you tease him for his flushed face, he'll playfully steal your half away from you. it's only when you pepper his face with kisses that kyotani will give it back to you !

bf kyotani who will absolutely soften up whenever he sees you playing with his dogs, he really appreciates you helping him take care of them !

bf kyotani whose bedside table is a spot dedicated to all sorts of trinkets you give to him — keychains, little plushies, even a picture of you two holding hands with a frame you decorated with all sorts of things !

bf kyotani who loves loves LOVES it when you cheer for him so loudly in his matches, he thinks of it as motivation to win. not for his team but for you, so you can be proud of him !

bf kyotani who you notice, is genuinely trying his best to be a good boyfriend, though he may be scary and imperfect, it doesn't stop him from trying his best to show you what a good lover is !

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else.

[arcane-vagabond]

Okay so I don’t think it’s any surprise that this has been a few days coming. So, let’s just lay out a few new ground rules, yeah?

Things are going to be different in the way I interact with people on here. I’m not going to be rude in how I respond to you all unless you come at me with some whack ass energy first. This means I’m not going to kiss your asses and be overly sweet in my replies. There have been a few times where I’ve been accused of being rude when I replied like a normal person instead of groveling at an anon’s feet for some reason, and that just simply won’t do. I will be responding how I respond to anyone else (matching energies or otherwise), and if you don’t like it? Well, no one is forcing you to be here. Block and/or unfollow. If you try to throw a fit about it? I will make fun of you because that’s weirdo behavior actually.

Generally, just expect some unhinged responses to hate mail because I’m going to assume that you’re not a real person sending stuff in if it’s hate mail. Don’t like? Well, no one is forcing you to be here. Block and/or unfollow. If you try to throw a fit about it? I will make fun of you because that’s weirdo behavior actually.

I’m no longer playing this stupid game that so many people seem intent on playing. You do not own games like matchmaker. That game has been around for DECADES. I’m no longer playing nice with people on here. It’s just automatic blocks and unfollows from now on. I’m curating my online experience, and if you don’t like how I’m doing it? Well, no one is forcing you to be here. Block and/or unfollow. If you try to throw a fit about it? I will make fun of you because that’s weirdo behavior actually.

I’m going to be posting what the fuck I want. No more polls. Too many people vote in them and my interactions are not reflecting the amount of people who vote for these stories. So I’m going to stop asking for what you all want. From here on out, it’s going to be what I want to post. If you send in asks or comments complaining? Well, no one is forcing you to be here. Block and/or unfollow. If you try to throw a fit about it? I will make fun of you because that’s weirdo behavior actually.

I’m not going to force myself to post every day or even every week. I have a full time job, family, friends, other hobbies, etc. that take up my time. I’m not a content machine for people to take advantage of for ten minutes and then move on. I also will not be tolerating comments asking for more of a series. If you don’t have anything to say about what I’ve already posted, and all you post is “Can’t wait for the next part!”? Guarantee you it’ll be months before you see that next part. Now if you include that after commenting about the rest of the chapter? That’s fine. Don’t like it? Well, no one is forcing you to be here. Block and/or unfollow. If you try to throw a fit about it? I will make fun of you because that’s weirdo behavior actually.

It’s sad that i have to set boundaries like this. And it’s even sadder that I know that I’m going to get hateful people yelling at me for setting these boundaries, but here we are. I’m willing to keep trying to interact with fandom, hoping that the people who refuse to learn etiquette and the way things are done in fandom will eventually get bored and leave.

I’ve essentially decided that I will keep posting my stories at my leisure and reblog fics when I read them, but other than that? I’ve got the people I enjoy interacting with, and I’m always open to meeting new people. I’m just tired of feeling policed in everything I do and people being cruel for no reason. This blog is always a safe space for people as long as they can be actual human beings.

If you’re reading this and getting mad or upset about any of the boundaries I’ve just mentioned? Well…🤷🏻‍♀️

-Liz

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

ok the way gem actually was walking towards pearl's general area while pearl was holding the mace. and idk if she actually saw pearl but im pretty sure gem looked up, turned back and walked right to where skizz asked her to??? and pearl just had to stand there and watch as gem basically gave the kill to skizz. like ohhh my god i have so many thoughts about this but all i can say rn is what in the world of yuri.

- 🐫

it’s so funny how they spent half their episodes effectively trying to provoke the other person as much as possible

i mean, do i even need to explain. they want each other baaaaad. on surface it might seem like another failing-to-kill-gem bit, especially with the comical sequences of pearl putting down the creeper eggs and gem easily dodging. however, both pearl and gem approach their “designated” roles of would-be killer and exasperated target a little differently than they did before. pearl doesn’t try her best, and gem doesn’t mock her like she did mumbo/tango.

gem and pearl hold each other in high esteem. even when they hate each other they obviously still respect the other’s skill. i suspect this is part of why gem was so offended when pearl tried to “2v1” her with impulse; because pearl was being stupid by underestimating herself, and then obviously because it was SL all over again.

let’s not even talk about both of them beelining for a camel. this is by far the number one WL ship right now in terms of content and actual interactions (besides ethubs). it’s not shipper mind, they’re actively pulling these stunts to see how crazy they can drive the fandom. like, the thirsty comment, “my poor red pearl”, “gem you’re beautiful”??? i swear they’re scheming on discord before recording or something (jk i know they aren’t).

cc!pearl did mention on stream that she should probably back off which is funny because it shows she didn’t pick up the obvious social cues that gem wanted to give her a chance by offering a 1v1 instead of flat out saying “don’t kill me” or “you suck at killing me”. also, if there are other pearl stream watchers reading this post, you would know that pearl said the same thing about not wanting to bother gem too much over the pickle bit, which is why she dropped it so suddenly. honestly very considerate of her

as for their convo on the camel. gem is explicitly grasping at straws over the end portal thing, but “did you even look me in the face during the murder camel… thing” is a great one-liner out of context. i thought it was going to be like a “you couldn’t even face me properly” but no it was just over the yellow life skin. pearl defending the disloyal allegations by saying scar was her ally is funny as well because it was the exact same argument she gave scott and i don’t think she understands that gem and scott have very different priorities. and gem clarifies she wasn’t upset over the betrayal (suree) but over the 2v1 which reveals some interesting things about her character and moral code which i’ll leave to the gem mains*. i do hope pearl keeps up the “how much do you love/hate me” thing though it’s a funny bit in general, plays into the pining/unmoved dynamic, and opens up the conversation. fluff duo that wants to be angst so badly

and if you’re following me and for some reason don’t watch gem or pearl, please do. there’s a reason why everyone’s saying they’re flirting because they’re toeing the line as close as you can.

what can i even add to this. it’s like going to a michelin restaurant and pointing out that the food is good.

*i always say this but i am effectively a gem main. i think her character is just too difficult for me and i don’t want to admit that i can’t figure out how to approach it

[xxmisukii]

Oh boy…. being a Jayvik shipper is hard (especially on twitter)

I can understand if people see them as platonic, romantic,… but brothers? When I and my sister heard that ppl see them as brothers, we looked at each other with disgust (we’re not the only one). And everytime I see post on tik tok or twitter that is aimed for shippers, there is ALWAYS at least one comment that says “oh but they’re like brothers” (if u see them like that, then ok it’s your opinion idc, but if you proceed to argue about it NON STOP with the shippers, calling them stupid and delusional, then something’s wrong with you, if you can’t even respect someone’s opinion)

AND they always use these same arguments whenever they can:

Argument numero uno: “but Jayce said he’s like his brother”

like yeah we get it, he said it, but what was the last time he called him that ? In season 1.

He stopped calling him that after.

(And it happens in real life too, you can change how you see someone after some time)

Number 2 “but writters said they aren’t canon”

when did they said that? (I’m genuinely asking)

and so what? it’s not illegal to ship characters even when the creators says it’s not canon. go argue about it with some animators, music creators, voice actors,… because they ship it too (btw same thing happened with Luca)

Also did they forgot about concept of “shipping”?? it doesn’t matter if they end up together or not. Ppl shipped Elsa and Jack Frost, FFS

If Jayvik was heterosexual pair, no one would fvcking deny it, everyone would say that they’re romantic and more than friends (I know this argument is used a lot, but it’s the reality)

Argument number 3: “Men nowadays can’t be just friends”

Yeah sure, but girls and boys always have to be something more than friends, right?

(The homophobia is loud)

The reason why many ppl ship it, is because they have good chemistry, dynamic, lore, etc. and not because they’re both dudes

If the creators want them to be just a friends, then they should interpret in the show more

If you can’t live with the fact that ppl ship two male characters, then don’t interact, easy

(Anyway this is all, sorry about this long rant, but I’m tired hearing the same things EVERY.DAMN.TIME😀 these ppl make me feel like shi sometimes)

[melmedardasworld]

So I edited this post a few times since what I wanted to convey just couldn't come out, and then I stumbled across this explanation.

And all of this!

To continue with my own thoughts.

I'm not sure where the takes of Mel is more than Jayce's girlfriend or being reduced to just being at a man's side is coming from that is being spouted.... Meljay shippers know this?

People are annoyed and confused to see what was set up from S1 until S2 Act 1 and the sudden a disconnect of how we got to know the relationship was handled and their final conversation. Most of us would've been fine (I know I would) with the breakup if it wasn't so off and lackluster.

It didn't feel like Mel and Jayce, granted they went through the trenches both physically and mentally, but that understanding is only being applied to Jayce in how he behaves. Mel is just a bystander and has to take it, and she was never like that. Or did her time trapped by the BR just make her numb to everything because she feels so much and hasawakenied as a Mage and empath? If so, the writers did shit to make it clear, and we have to fill in gaps and explanations with headcanons.

Most importantly, Mel only gave and gave to others (professionally, non proffesional, platonical, familial, etc) but got nothing of the sort in return.... not even a hug, a hand squeeze, a how are you nada. That apology she got was, again, so offstandish. I didn't expect Jayce to cry out or be a lovey dovey anything, but he was more heated to scold her a beat. Mel barely got a word out there, too, to explain her side. She doesn't even fully understand her powers...

Also, in regards to interactions, why didn't we see a moment between her and Caitlin? When her mother died, Mel told Jayce to go to her, and had she seen how Ambessa did what she did, Mel would've shut things down, too. But we couldn't see the two of them bond over having lost their mothers?

No one in Piltover was concerned with their influential councilor who went missing for weeks/months? It would've been nice had we seen her and Shoola as the last ones standing or talk about the future of Piltover and the convo moving to Mel returning to Noxus and leaving it in the people's/their hands, but not a lick.

We just see her board a ship because she now has the weight of the Medarda line (who she needs to build from the ground up while the Black Rose is still out there and likely has to deal with more politics in Noxus that is more on the violent side) on her shoulders to a country she's been exiled for who knows how long.

Mel is getting to terms with her powers, her legacy, but even with her mother, Kino, Elora and now going back to a country she was exiled from, AND having to lead a faceless army. WHERE IS HER COMFORT!?!?! Who does she have to share all of this with above one minute.

It also doesn't help that people (yes, shippers mostly cause one scroll on your page they barely talk about Mel outside of ship. Not even about the popular 'she has a larger storyline' takes. Just invalidate why Meljay doesn't and never would work or was always doomed takes in response to OG shippers sharing their grievances.

There is weird and fake trolling in the meljay/mel tag when the same people never had something to say about her/ any of her relationship up until the finale and the last few Meljay scenes.

But now everyone can supposedly yap as some fake intellectual and shade others' people being annoyed, sad, and disappointed in the WAY it was written to THEM for their ship.

Meljay shippers literally had to create a niche tag because the main ones are being spammed with bad take after take and where Mel/Meljay is undermined while claiming it is all in balance in the end. Is that not insane?

Please, miss me with that. It is irritating and condescending.

Shippers in fandom love love and just a relationship in general. This is nothing new so why all these bad fate takes? They are allowed to vent their frustration on how the story for their ship is handled. Most of the same shippers also have an analysis of the characters' they ship and larger storyline that was set. Act 3 plot lines were squeezed in such a way with so many minutes left. I am still of the opinion that we should've gotten either 3 or 6 more episodes to tie all the stuff together properly since the writers themselves decided to introduce all these storylines. There was just a disconnect and OOC behavior in Meljay that wasn't expanded upon in a better way imo.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

What do you think of people saying “Kataang had a downward spiral in book 3.”?

I saw that video called “get in losers we’re stanning zutara.”that claimed that, along with many other people who are anti Kataang.

"The people who ship the two characters that barely interacted the entire show and hated each other for 90% of it think Kataang not always agreeing means the ship is having a downwards spiral" And? Why should we care?

I genuinely don't see how anyone could think book 3 Kataang was bad. Literally my one criticism of it is the forced Ember Island drama that so clearly only existed because of that stupid rule of "Main couple can't get together until the last second of the last episode". There were so many sweet, meaningful and even ICONIC moments happen that season.

Aang staring at Katara in awe when he learns that she literally brought him back from the dead. Katara making it very clear through her talk with Hakoda that she doesn't WANT to separated from the people she loves (bringing closure to Aang's Guru conflict).

THE HEADBAND DANCE AFTER KATARA IS JEALOUS THAT AANG IS GETTING SO MUCH ATTENTION FROM OTHER GIRLS!!!!!!

Aang immediately crushing on the Painted Lady and helping Katara blow up a factory. "You're my forever girl." The kiss before the invasion and Katara cuddling up with him after it. Katara trusting Aang's instincts when he says he wants Zuko to teach him firebending but it only happening after she gave him the greenlight because her opinion is everything to him.

KATARA THREATENING TO MURDER ZUKO IF HE EVER HURTS AANG AGAIN!!!

Aang letting Katara take Appa, one of the last connections he has with his pacifist culture, on a mission to kill someone (which he fundamentally disagrees with) simply because she needs to go on that journey and he KNOWS Katara will eventually realize, on her own, that she's not killer. Katara explicitly telling Aang that she doesn't think of him as a little brother she has to take care of.

KATARA CHOOSING TO KISS AANG AND BE HIS GIRLFRIEND IN A SCENE DELIBERATELY ANIMATED TO LOOK LIKE A COUPLE KISSING AT THEIR WEDDING!!!!!!

If that's a downward spiral, what does a winning-streak look like? Them still being together in every other post-show material that came out through the years, and being confirmed to have spent decades married, and having kids and grandkids?

Oh wait, they did that too, my bad.

Seriously, even before I grew to like Kataang as a ship, I would have been OVERJOYED if some of my non-canon and/or non-endgame ships in literally ANYTHING got even HALF the good moments Kataang had in book 3. Downwards spiral my ass, motherfuckers are just jealous.

[teoft]

It's like Tumblr has become almost a diary for me, thanks to no character limit and a read more button. This atmosphere of acceptance and understanding helps a lot too.

I'll get back to posting actual art, juggling with Twitter and Bluesky along with commissions is taking up a lot of my time.

Anyway, thoughts about art community and being social

For the longest time I've had this feeling of being an outsider in this vague community of artists that see as colleagues of sorts. Like I meet all the "criteria" of being in the group, and yet don't really feel like I'm part of it. Well, it seems I am right in some way, and the reason is that they interact with each other, while I sit here drawing alone.

Unfortunately I've always been prone to isolate myself from others. I grew up feeling like I should be ashamed of loving to draw, since it was always fanart monsters, creatures and cool guys instead of "proper art" like animals and portraits. Before social media, I only drew for myself and never showed anything to anybody. I hid my art from my family, from the world, so that I wouldn't be judged. I think it is one of the biggest reasons why I have trouble interacting with people in the context of art (tbh I'm shit at being social anyway but that's a whole another problem).

Even when I had a scanner and means to post my art online, I never did, due to the whole "if you put something online it'll be there forever" mindset. My first actual account anywhere online must've been Facebook in 2010ish, where I only had a few friends. It was the perfect place for me to finally post anything online, and so I did: I used to post pretty much everything I drew on there. Slowly gaining courage, I eventually made my original Tumblr account, then Deviantart, Twitter, etc.

Still, all I did was throw my art out there in hopes of somebody liking it. I didn't really know how to interact with the people who commented on my posts, so instead I mostly just... made more art. I did have some friend groups here and there, but either they ended up falling apart or my social battery drained in such a way that I slowly drifted away. I had gotten used to just being by myself and relying only on myself in the online art world.

During my design studies, I started putting more thought and work on promoting myself, so that it could be one career path for me to take. My mindset was that I'll work hard and become "big", even if it meant that one post gained me just one follower. In 2020 I ended up going viral with a meme and suddenly getting tens of thousands of followers. It was great and a welcome boost of morale, but unfortunately 2020 was otherwise one of the worst years in my life.

Throughout the years people have come and gone, so the only constant for me has been myself, and my drive to develop my skills. Thus it's been too easy for me to just isolate myself. In a way it has been my strength with regards to art, but sometimes I wish I knew how to make lasting connections. I think/know I might be autistic to some degree, which adds to the difficulty of being social. Though, to be honest, I don't know if I'd gotten this far without my autistic hyperfixations.

I guess the thing I need to do now to fix this problem of loneliness and isolation is to just... slowly try and be more social. To reply to comments and talk to people. All of which is easier said than done. Still, just gotta take that first step and then keep going.

Despite lacking the kind of community I yearn for, it seems I've made a name for myself, enough so that people seem to take pride in knowing me. Or at least that's the impression I've gotten a few times. But still, I am happy that I've had a positive effect on people. After all, my two main motivators in art are that I like doing it, and I like when people enjoy my art.