#I don’t want anything at all I just want to be happy and yet I have no fucking idea what happiness even is to me

[jenoslutie]

is it casual? l l.dh (m)

❥ Synopsis: Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual. Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are laboured, or even the way sex with him felt... too intimate. Nothing about it was casual. But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual.

❥ Genre: Toxic FWB!Donghyuck, smut, friends with benefits au, he is toxic.

❥ Warnings: toxicity, reader is a little dumb, explicit smut scenes, recording during sex (consensually), reader x chenle for a second, reader flirts with hyuck's cousin for a second, fucking while family is in the other room, car sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, i cant think of anything else tbh!!

❥ Word count: 3.3K

❥ a/n: hi guys :D i apologize if this is some hot garbage LMAO not my proudest fic (especially the rushed ass ending) BUT! i did want to get it done and over with soooo here you go. Hope you enjoy it!! :D

Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual. 

Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are labored, or the way sex with him felt too intimate. Nothing about it was casual. 

But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual. 

“Oh Y/N? We just fuck sometimes” A lie. The same lie he says every time his friends ask about the two of you. Not a single one of them believes him. Not Renjun, not Jaemin, not Jeno. Hell, not even Mark, his best friend, believed him. 

“You don’t just bring anyone around to meet your mother, Haechan” Mark stated, the rest of the group agreeing with him. 

Haechan groans in protest, rolling his eyes, leaving the rest of his roommates on the couch and heading over to his room. 

hyuck: hey  hyuck: come see me. i miss ur pussy. 

you: wtf?? you: where's the decorum?? what happened to hi?? hello?? how was your day?? 

hyuck: you can tell me all about that after i finally get my mouth on your pretty pussy hyuck: come over

And who were you to deny anything Donghyuck asked you? Because within 30 minutes you were outside his apartment, ringing his doorbell and waiting for him to let you in. The door opens and there stands Donghyuck in all his glory. Donghyuck is no doubt an attractive man. Well, he wasn’t just attractive. He was ethereal. You could tell he was carefully sculpted by God himself. 

Upon walking in, you were met by the disappointed faces of his four roommates. You gave them a small smile in greeting, your smile was not a genuine one, anyone could tell it was forced, as was their smile in return. The boys loved having you around but they knew the intentions of their friend. They knew he treated you like way more than a fuckbuddy but wanted less than even fuckbuddies. You were left with no option but to shift your eyes down in shame, you followed him to his all too familiar room. One that you’d been in more than you’d ever like to admit. 

And just like that, before you knew it, you were in Lee Donghyuck’s bed once again. 

“You know Donghyuck is just keeping you around to fuck right?” Chenle suddenly blurted out. You had to cancel on Donghyuck to meet up with Chenle for your little brunch date and to say the least, Donghyuck was not that happy about it. You’re ditching him? For another man? Though the other man was your best friend who had absolutely no feelings whatsoever for you (and vice versa), it was enough for you to have an almost hour long call with Donghyuck prior to meeting up with Chenle that was full of arguing and Donghyuck claiming you cannot ditch him for Chenle.

Which you did. 

Though it didn’t last long because right after you left the brunch spot, you found yourself driving over to none other than Donghyuck’s house.  

“I missed you you know” He all but cooed, letting yet another lie slip from his lips. He was always the one who went M.I.A  after everytime you hooked up until he wanted to hook up again. 

No response. 

“Baby?”

No response. 

“Cmon, Why do you avoid me so much hmm?” You? Avoid Him? 

“I don’t” you huffed, sitting up to pull your shirt over your head. “You’re the one who doesn’t give a fuck about me unless it involves my pussy” 

“That’s not true..” He countered, “I also give a fuck if it involves your tits, and that pretty mouth of yours” You rolled your eyes at him, choosing to ignore his comment. He didn’t urge you either, only pushing you onto your back and climbing on top of you. 

“You know you missed me, didn’t you?” As embarrassing as it was to admit, you did miss him. In the few days you tried to go no contact with him. It was near impossible to get him out of your thoughts. 

And here you were, giving yourself to him once again.

So much for ‘I only want you’ 

Your jaw dropped in shock watching Donghyuck sitting on the couch at a party with some random girl straddling him while the two of them made out like they practically needed each other to breathe. Which if it was the case, you wouldn't be surprised. 

“Didn’t he literally just tell me he only wants me when he was cumming inside of me yesterday?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know that,” Chenle grimaced. 

“Well! That’s besides the point. The point is, he told me he only wants me now his tongue is down another girl’s throat!” You groaned in frustration. You don't think you’d ever understand his intentions. Sure the sex was good, you enjoyed Haechan’s company more than most people you know but still. You were sick of the mixed signals, did he want you or did he just want you naked and in his bed? Most likely the latter.  

Watching him make out with the girl with no care in the world for you, made a lightbulb spark inside your head. “Why don’t we kiss?” you suggest hopefully. 

And you dont think you’ve ever heard a more vile sound leave Chenle’s mouth before. 

“My lips are not touching yours. Who knows where they’ve been” You rolled your eyes at him, pursing your lips playfully. “You know my lips are clean, Chenle.” 

“I don’t know about that. But…okay, let’s do it” His tone was incredulous, like he didn’t believe your lips were clean? Where the fuck else would they be? Ignoring his backhanded comment., you dragged him closer to where Hyuck was, with the girl still on his lap. It’s almost like he had completely forgotten about you. You’ve been watching him kiss the girl like he kisses you, touch her like he touches you, whisper in her ear like he does to you when he’s telling you all the nasty things he wants to do to you and it makes you sick. 

Without thinking any further, you pull Chenle in by the collar of his dress shirt and he clutches your chin, pulling you closer to him, warm tongue slipping between your lips and exploring the warmth of your mouth. Fighting the urge to moan into Chenle’s mouth, you decided to run your fingers through his hair, tugging a little every so often. Chenle however wasn’t trying to hide anything, he was groaning into your mouth everytime you tugged on his hair. It was a kiss so intense, anyone would look at you and think you two are either hooking up or lovers. The two of you get too caught up in your kiss to notice Hyuck had stopped kissing the new girl and was now boring holes into both of your skulls.

If there's one person that got on his nerves it was Chenle, he hated the way the two of you were so close but told everyone you’re ‘only friends’. So much for ‘only friends’ when the two of you were basically down each other's throats now. The intensity of the kiss fogged both of your brains to the point you forgot the real reason you were kissing him in the first place. Too distracted to even notice Hyuck approach the two of you in the corner you were in, forcing Chenle off you. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hyuck’s eyes were wide and full of rage, your jaw dropped, what the fuck did he mean? 

“Why are you kissing him?” His words came out bitter, venom laced in his tone. He was pissed at the sight of you with another man. As if he wasn’t under another woman less than a minute ago. You gave him nothing but silence. Not a smart option, you decide. You catch Chenle snickering out the corner of your eye, distancing himself from the scene. 

And that's how you found yourself in Hyuck’s car, your dress lost somewhere in the backseat minutes before Hyuck’s seat tipped back, and you climbed over the center console to sit on his face. Sure the position wasn’t the most comfortable but the way he was eating you out, like he’d lose his breath if he stopped, you were far from complaining. His tongue on you makes you see stars to the point you’d almost forget that the same tongue was down a different girl’s throat less than 30 minutes ago. 

“God, Hyuck you’re so good,” You cried, leaning all the way over to stabilize yourself by grabbing onto the headrest of the backseat. The man under you only hummed in response, sucking your clit harder, forcing another loud moan out from you. Before long, you feel your stomach tightening as your climax approaches, and you whimper in warning, Haechan, knowing your body too well, picking up on your cue immediately and diving into your core with an eagerness that has you seeing stars. With no more than a sharp suck at your clit, you’re climaxing with a loud cry, your body jerking before you attempt to curl in on yourself. 

“Fuck, can you ride me baby?” His voice came out strained, you obediently shimmied into Hyuck’s lap, and without thinking twice, you lined yourself up with his cock. He was clearly tired of the lack of attention on him that the second his tip had slid into your pussy he had pushed you all the way down onto him, forcing himself to fill you to the brink.

You cried out in surprise, a small stretch coursing through your body that Hyuck did not give you much time to adjust to. Immediately, he grabbed your hips and began to forcefully raise you up and down the length of his cock. You whined, your body writhing in pleasure and all you could do was keep your face buried in his neck as he forced you up and down on his cock. As much as you hated this situation you had going on with him, moments like this made you realize how hard it would be to let it go. 

Moments where he made you feel wanted. 

Moments where he made you feel desired. 

Those are what always got you coming back into his trap. 

You don’t know why the hell you agreed to it, but here you were, in Donghyuck’s parent’s house for Christmas. As much as you tried to not be in the spotlight, since you were a new face, you happened to be the center of attention tonight and it was overwhelming. And you realize you’re not even sure why he invited you to his family’s Christmas celebration. 

Watching his younger siblings run around you and ask all sorts of questions like “Why are you friends with my brother? You are too pretty for him!” The two gremlins, both resembling Donghyuck to the T, had been jumping all over you the whole night. You could see where Donghyuck got his personality from. His outgoing nature rooted from his father who might have been the life of the party, his everlasting need to argue about little things rooting from his mother, you could tell by the way you watched the two of them squabble all throughout the night. And obviously, all that chaos combined together and graced Donghyuck and his parents with who they call the two gremlins. 

Deciding to go on this trip back to his hometown was not an easy decision, him spending numerous nights convincing you that you’ll love it there. You remember one specific night where he whined and groaned over the phone about you declining the offer, “You’ll love them!” He offered. “Plus, It's not like you’re doing anything else on christmas! You just told me” It was pretty clear he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. And there was no way you could deny his offer at that point so you just sighed and agreed to go along. 

“You know, they like you alot more than I thought they would,” He mused. He’d been quietly observing his family’s every interaction with you and to say he was impressed was an understatement. His family was normally really inviting for all his friends, but this time, it was different?

 What he didn’t expect was his cousin, Beomgyu, to show up. He would be the first to admit that Beomgyu was attractive, there was no denying that. Growing up, Beomgyu would get all the girls and would outshine Donghyuck in all aspects. Which was one of the reasons why Donghyuck loathed him.  

Donghyuck gritted his teeth as he opened the door, “Beomgyu.” 

“Donghyuck.” His cousin smirked, stepping aside to greet the rest of the family. Donghyuck’s entire family was very fond of Beomgyu, they treated him as one of their own though they knew the hatred their actual son had towards him. What he did not expect more than the sudden appearance of his worst enemy was, the worst enemy in question to be flirting with you not even ten minutes into his arrival. But what pissed him off the most was the fact you were flirting back. 

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what he wants. 

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what’s his. 

He watched. Watched for so long while you sat at the dinner table and chatted it up with Beomgyu who was spilling compliment after compliment to you. 

hyuck: meet me in the bathroom. 

hyuck: now. 

In an instant, you were dismissing Beomgyu and following Donghyuck down the hall and into the nearest bathroom. 

“What the fuck was that?” He spat, pushing you up against the door. “You think you can just flirt with my fucking cousin?” He took a fistful of your hair, using it to tilt your head up, your lust filled eyes peering up at him innocently. “You don’t get to choose who I flirt with, Donghyuck.” he hated that stupid smirk on your lips, an hour with Beomgyu made you what? A brat? His eyebrows raised, sporting a smirk of his own at your bratty tone. 

“Okay. If you want to be a brat, I have a great way to put them in their place.” His grin was evil. Your own face dropping when he tugs on your hair again. “Tell me huh? You want to be put in your place while my fucking family is right there? Hearing every little noise of yours while I slut you out in this bathroom?” You shook your head no, “No! I swear, I’ll be good. Don’t want your parents to hear us!” You were given nothing but silence, followed by a dark chuckle from Donghyuck himself. 

“Yes, you do,” he teases. You only whined in response. “Like I give a fuck when you were out there moments away from slutting yourself out to that fucker.” He laughed sadistically when your only response was a whimper. 

‘You’re too easy’ He thought. 

“You know that you’re mine, right?” His tone was harsh. You quickly nodded your head ‘yes’, knowing that even a second’s delay would piss him off now. Instead of a direct response, like you wished, all you got was a chuckle and a little “Sure you are,” 

Donghyuck freed his cock from the confines of his pants and you bent forward, resting on your elbows, presenting your ass for him. “What a pretty girl.” He sucks in air, slapping his hand down on your ass. He aligns himself with your wet pussy, your fingers gripping onto the ceramic sink. He fills you completely, arching your back deeper to bury himself all the way inside you. 

“Taking me so well. It’s like you were made for me” he groans, pulling away to admire the way you take his thick cock. “You’re always so good for me, aren’t you, baby?” You moaned in response, thrusting back against him. 

“You wanna prove you’re mine?” 

“Please” 

You heard him shuffle around momentarily before he propped his phone up against the bathroom sink. The camera app was open and it was recording. “Go on,” He emphasized his words with a sharp thrust, “Say that you’re mine” You forced your eyes open and looked directly into the camera. “You’re mine forever, aren't you?” 

“I’m Yours, Donghyuck” You caught a glimpse at your reflection and you looked wrecked. Mascara started to run down your cheeks, hair knotted and a mess from the way he'd been pulling it earlier and your cheeks warm. You knew you couldn’t go back out to his family like this but that was the least of your concerns right now. All you could think of was Donghyuck and how he just hinted at forever. Forever with him.  

“I’m yours forever. All of me is yours, I'm all yours Hyuck.” You watched his smirk grow wider, his hips thrusting into you with far more intensity than before, enough to make your brain go blank. You’d lost all sense of where you were and why. No care in the world for your surroundings had you crying his name out loud. It seemed even he didn't care about how loud you were being because all he did was chuckle and trail his hands down to your core so he could toy with your swollen clit. 

“You’re mine forever? That’s what I like to hear.” He ended the video but the camera remained facing your wrecked figure. The more you stared at yourself, the ruined look on your face,the humiliation and the way he was smirking down at you so desperate to cum, made you closer to your release. And accompanied by Hyuck’s ministrations on your clit, you were cumming in no time, stars blotting your vision as your knees go weak. 

“I’m cumming—fuck—” Haechan grunts. hips pressing into yours as he buries himself deep in you and empties his load. You feel his length twitch inside of you. He gave you both a second to calm down before slowly pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your clothes back into place. 

You relished in the thought that you’re Donghyuck’s. He’s yours. You hadn’t seen him since that night at his family’s house and you’d spoken to him maybe twice since. He told you he’s gonna be busy with work in the days upcoming so you decided not to bother him. 

Today was his rare day off and he told you he’d stop by to see you but its been three hours since he was supposed to be here and you’re still waiting to see him. He hasn't replied to your texts, answered your calls or even told you he was gonna be running late. You chose to occupy yourself by scrolling through Instagram while you waited. 

Immediately, the first story you saw was Mark’s. He’d posted pictures from a party with the text “crazy night last night”  You smiled to yourself as you clicked through his story, he posted a number of pictures and videos from that night however one specific video caught your attention.

Donghyuck in the back of it, his honey skin glimmering under the light. You watched the video intently, Donghyuck was kissing this girl with the same passion he kissed you with back on Christmas. 

So much for being busy. 

Immediately, you called his phone, surprised when he picked up on the first ring. 

“What is it, Y/N?” He sighed over the phone

“I saw the video, Donghyuck.” 

“Y/N. Remember our rules? We are nothing”

“But I-” You want to say something. Something out of pure rage and heartbreak. 

Before he cuts you off, “I don’t owe you anything, I do” 

“Fuck, all our rules, Hyuck. Fuck them all. All I want is you. In every way possible. Be mine. Please"

“Just– Move on,” And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving you there with a heavy heart and speechless. 

Guess it really was just casual. 

[lvmoure]

When I Was Your Man CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x ex!reader

Summary: In which Carlos realized that it was his lost.

Warnings: break-up, angst, cheater

The room was silent except for the quiet hum of the city lights through the window. Carlos sat across from you on the plush couch, his posture as stiff as his gaze. He looked at you, but it felt as if he was staring through you, his expression cold and unreadable. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the emptiness echo through the large, beautiful room that you both once shared.

"I just don’t understand, Carlos." Your voice was barely a whisper, yet it hung heavy in the air. "All I ever wanted was…something real. Just us. Simple things."

Carlos looked away, his jaw tight. "You knew how it would be from the beginning," he said, his voice flat, distant. “With my schedule, the travel, the life…you knew.”

You felt a pang in your chest. "I did know. I accepted all of it because I believed in us. But it feels like I don’t even know you anymore. I wanted you, Carlos. Not your career, not your lifestyle. Just…you."

A long, strained silence followed. You watched as he shifted in his seat, finally meeting your eyes with a flicker of something — perhaps regret, perhaps sadness — before it disappeared.

"What did you expect, then?" he asked quietly, almost defensively. “I told you from the start…I don’t do… this.” He gestured vaguely, as if “this” was something foreign, strange. "All this hand-holding and flowers, it’s not me."

You looked down at your hands, fingers nervously twisting together. "I expected that maybe…just maybe…you'd try. Maybe care about what I want. Just small things, like holding my hand, talking to me at the end of the day. It’s never been about grand gestures, Carlos."

You took a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. “It’s not even about what you did with her. It’s about feeling like I was never enough. Like I was just…there.”

He stiffened, his eyes darkening, but he stayed silent. The absence of words weighed heavier than any argument. It was as if he was already gone, the connection that once held you two together severed.

“Carlos…are you even sorry?” you finally asked, your voice barely audible.

For a moment, he seemed taken aback. His eyes softened for a fraction of a second, but then he looked away, his gaze falling back to the ground. “I… I don’t know what to say. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

A bitter smile crept onto your face. “Sometimes silence says more than anything, doesn’t it?” You stood up, taking one last look at him. He didn’t move, didn’t reach for you. And that was when you knew — he wasn’t going to fight for this.

A few months had passed, and in many ways, you felt freer than ever. It was strange to think that such simplicity could bring such happiness. And then, there was Timothée.

Timothée was different. He was warm, gentle, attentive — all the things you had longed for, the things Carlos had seemed incapable of giving. Tonight, as you both walked out of a small café, the warmth of his hand in yours was almost surreal. You glanced down, a smile touching your lips. It was such a small gesture, but it meant the world.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking at you with a soft concern that had become second nature to him. He always asked how you were, always noticed the little shifts in your mood.

You nodded, smiling up at him. "I’m good. Really."

He grinned, squeezing your hand. “Good. Because I have something for you.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small bouquet of wildflowers. You laughed in surprise, a happy, genuine laugh. "Timothée…"

“They’re simple,” he said, smiling shyly. “But I thought you might like them.”

You took the flowers, your heart swelling with warmth. "They’re perfect."

He lifted your hand and kissed it softly. “Perfect for you, then.”

The flash of cameras brought you back to reality, and you blinked as the paparazzi swarmed around you. Timothée kept a firm grip on your hand, pulling you close and shielding you from the crowd. Unlike before, the attention didn’t feel invasive or stressful. With Timothée, it felt safe.

Later that night, as you lay next to him, you couldn’t help but think about how everything you had longed for with Carlos was finally here. Timothée’s arm was wrapped around you, his breathing soft and even. And for the first time in a long time, you felt seen, cherished.

Carlos sat in his dimly lit apartment, a glass of whiskey untouched on the table beside him. The photo on his phone screen showed you laughing, hand-in-hand with Timothée. You looked…happy. Really, truly happy.

The realization hit him harder than he expected. There was a pang of something sharp, bitter, clawing its way through him. Regret. He knew it now, more acutely than he ever had. He had taken you for granted, assumed you would always be there, no matter how cold or distant he’d been.

He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched tight. Memories flooded back — moments when he could have held your hand, spoken to you, made you feel cherished. All the small things you’d wanted, the things he thought were meaningless, suddenly felt monumental.

“Carlos?” His teammate’s voice cut through the haze, but Carlos barely registered it.

“Sorry,” he muttered, brushing him off. “I need a minute.”

He turned back to the photo, something heavy settling in his chest. He thought of all the times he could have been there for you, the moments he missed out on because he was too focused on his career, too wrapped up in his own world to see you slipping away.

Another photo appeared in his feed — this one of Timothée with his arm around you, a small bouquet in your hands. He remembered you asking him, once, to bring you flowers. Just once. He’d laughed, brushed it off, called it “silly.” But now, seeing the way your face lit up for someone else, he understood.

As days passed, Carlos found himself haunted by the memories — your laughter, the way you’d always looked at him with such hope. It was the simple things that had mattered to you. All you had wanted was to hold hands, to feel connected, to know that he was there for you. And he’d let it all slip through his fingers.

He stared at his phone, re-reading your last text before the breakup. "I just wanted you, Carlos. Nothing more." He realized now, painfully, how simple that request had been, how much he had failed you by not seeing it.

Carlos closed his eyes, the regret pooling in his chest like a weight. You had been everything, and he hadn’t realized it until now — until it was too late. The cold, distant man he had been, the one who’d never truly understood your worth, had lost you to someone who cherished every part of you, someone who held your hand and brought you flowers.

He took a shaky breath, whispering into the empty room. "I’m sorry." But he knew it was too late. And he was left with nothing but the hollow echo of what could have been.

[winwintea]

dreamies meeting their kid for the first time + as a parent

GROUP ↬ ot7 dream x reader (ft. their child)

TAGS/WARNINGS ↬ some angst, LOTS OF FLUFF MY TOOTH IS LITERALLY ROTTING, spider-mark agenda is real, the child is sometimes a cockblock, haechan does some weird michael jackson-sherlock holmes roleplay idk it made sense in my head, jaemin going on shopping sprees, chenle never loses, ji... is ji.... (poor baby)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ everyone say thank you to @https-lvesick for getting me on that baby fever stuff... like i hate children but i love children. iykwim... anyways this is meeting their kid for the first time, but i can't come up with reasons why they were separated so you fill in the blanks. probably angsty reasons i love angst.

Mark Lee

when you come back through that door with a child holding your hand, it’s him you meet first again, and the tears are already glossing his eyes over before you can say anything.

literally has no words when you smile at him gently, saying it’s his.

mark swallows nervously, before making his way to the both of you, holding the two of you in his arms for only god knows how long.

“i.. can’t wait to live my life with you both, my love,” he mumbles into your hair, ears slightly tinged, only causing you to laugh at his adorable antics.

as a father, he isn’t very strict, and he isn’t all that good in child-rearing, either.

but he tries! give him some slack — you have to keep reminding yourself of this when you see your child holding a sword?! 

and of course mark was in his halloween costume. typical.

“baby.. i can explain,” mark says calmly when you first find the two of them

well actually, three; it seems haechan was in on this little practice, though he quickly bolted when he saw you. good strategy.

“엄마, papa said he was iron man! he teached me how to be a superhero!” your child exclaims, flailing the sword around excitedly as your gaze only darkens.

“well, you see, i meant spider-man, but—” his words die down when he sees your unimpressed face practically dripping with murderous intent.

mark slowly kneels down to whisper something you couldn't make out to your child. the little one nods seriously, slowly putting down the weapon.

then, as seconds pass, mark immediately hoists your child up in his arms, running out of the room as both his laughter and your child’s squeals echo throughout the halls.

“mark min-hyung lee, you are so dead!” you scream, running after them.

“3, 2, 1 — I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY!” the two of them scream back, before bursting into laughter. they’re always in sync. It’s exasperating.

but you love it anyways

Huang Renjun

when you meet him at the door, there's a flurry of emotions clear on renjun's face, but his smile says it all.

“is it too much to say i’ve been waiting for you this whole time?”

regrets the fact that he wasn’t able to be a part of his child’s life for the first few years, literally becomes wrapped around your little one’s finger because of it.

so adorable and happy that he’s blessed with your lovely child, always smiling when he thinks of them.

literally makes the other members question whether or not they want a child too.

bonding time is painting of course!

usually ends up with all three of you cramped in the shower, you scrubbing furiously at the sticky paint on their skin.

“i’m sorry for having you do this all the time,” renjun's soft voice makes you forget why you were mad in the first place tbh.

massages your shoulders from behind you, causing your fingers to halt in their journey of rubbing some stubborn blue paint off your child.

“it’ll take more than that if you wanna make it up to me,” you hum, leaning back into his chest and gazing into his eyes.

your lips were just about to meet, when —

“ma, i'm not clean yet!”

damn. cockblocked by your own child.

you groan, renjun laughing as he picks up the pouting child with their arms crossed.

“don’t give 妈妈 too much of a hard time, okay?” he never forgets to take care of you above all.

Lee Jeno

when you walk through that door once more, nervously telling jeno that this child is his, you’re afraid of his reaction.

and when you finally gather the courage to do it? his jaw drops and he can’t stop staring at you nor the child and you have to help him sit and calm down.

“아빠?” your child asks, staring up at the still slightly panicked jeno as you hold your breath.

he stares for a moment, mouth wide, before finally, finally smiling, albeit a little awkward and rough around the edges. “yes, little one?”

very new to this whole parenting thing and can barely do anything without asking you first, so he feels bad quite often for having to lean on you so much.

plus he barely knows how to handle a sobbing child, nor can he entertain the child very well,

but you find that the both of them are quite content in each other’s presence as is. so that's a plus !

you'll usually find them in jeno's room together, while you need jeno to watch your child while you go out for an errand or something.

but when you see jeno, well, he starts to look ethereal as the sun shines through the windows in his room.

then, a gentle smile gracing his face as he stares at his sleeping child.

jeno utters your name, causing you to look up, only to find him tracing circles around your child’s soft skin. “딸,” he rasps out, cracking a bleary eye open and gripping their wrist softly. Then, he smiles, all sorts of soft and lovely and.. unguarded.

“You two.. are the best things that have happened to me.”

Lee Donghyuck

haechan tries swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees you standing in front of that damned door, though to no avail as a tear slips.

starts full-on crying when you say that you’re back for good and that the child is his. it's okay, let it out hyuck. <3

“ah, crying like that on our first meeting… don’t you think your fath — i’m a bit embarrassing?” he asks, sniffling as he tries to muster a smile through his tears.

your child giggles, eyes crinkling while grinning. “no! mommy told me a whooooole lot about you, daddy!”

you have to intervene at this point to stop him from sobbing again.

haechan wastes no time in making up for what he’s missed, so he's definitely going to spoil this child every second that he can.

you’d always find the two of them either going out shopping or messing about at home

also probably just chilling in the comforts of his room, doing god knows what.

one day you were curious, so you peeked through a tiny crack of the open door.

genuinely concerned at what you saw.

was that a... trenchcoat on your child? the two of them were engaged in conversation as haechan started nodding with a serious look on his face.

“so, mj, do you think waffles make mummy happier?” your child asks, holding his magnifying glass up like a mic in front of haechan's face.

mj???

haechan strokes his chin for a moment, before answering, “seeing her reaction when we gave her the ones we bought yesterday, i dee-hee duce they do, sherlock!”

sherlock...?

“good deduck – deduction, mj! i thought so too.”

you can't help but snort as haechan grabs his crotch and poses while high fiving your child.

as stupid as this was, your heart literally melts. the two are far too cute for you, you having to calm yourself before walking in with the widest smile on your face. dorks. 

Na Jaemin

“i was hoping you’d be back, my dear.” his perfunctory smile is so smug that sometimes you just want to punch him in the face. “with a lovely little thing in hand.”

“Your lovely little thing,” you say gently, trying to ignore your anger. you were here to show your child to jaemin. jaemin looks at the two of you with surprise, the curves of his mouth inching upwards.

hey jaemin wasn't trying to be possessive... cause that's weird. but the way you emphasized the word 'your' made his breath hitch. we can unpack that later though.

for now, na jaemin is a certified sugar daddy

jaemin is wrapped around the little one’s finger, his rotten spoiling being the effect of not being in your child’s life for a good while, and, of course, his indispensable regret for having you come back to him.

you asked jeno the whereabouts of your lover and your child, only for him to give you the look, responding that they were out yet again, and are probably not coming back without a few shopping bags in hand.

okay something needed to be done about this. so you decided to conduct a harmless experiment.

placing a few coins on one side of his desk, a toy in the middle, and a beloved fruit on the side. after explaining to him that it’s to see what your child’s fate would be — picking between fortune, fun, and, well, snacks, you think — he simply leans back, interest shining in those eyes of his.

but your child pushes all these away in a second, opting to hug the wide-eyed man on the soft armchair behind the desk.

“and what.. does this mean, ma chérie?” fuck him and the words he's picked up from traveling abroad. but jaemin looked honestly confused as his hands slowly wrap around your child’s.

you smile softly, “isn’t it obvious, silly? the little rascal loves you more than anything.”

he laughs. he doesn't get it. preparing for yet another shopping spree. why do you even try at this point?

Zhong Chenle

oh my god. when he first sees you after years with a child, his child, grasping your hand, chenle has to literally take a quick second to calm down cause he’s so angry.

no, not at you, of course, he would never. but at himself.

he wasn’t there for his child, for you, and god, even if he were, would he have been a good father?

“Y/ — 甜心,” he starts, running his fingers through his already messy bed-head hair and staring at you with eyes that practically scream "please hug me, i'm insecure"

“how am i supposed to take care of a child when i couldn’t even take care of you?”

but don't worry, after many reassuring words and warm hugs, chenle's finally okay and back to his normal self, holding your child up and giggling.

maybe this was a wrong idea cause now you have to take care of a manchild and a child.

is surprisingly very gentle with your child because he honestly doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. (just because he has a nephew does not mean he knows how to parent a child.)

also very grounded and doesn’t fall for cute little tricks as much, so out of the dreamies, he’d end up becoming one of the better fathers.

also cause he never loses. and no way is he gonna lose an argument with a child.

“不行。” “爸爸, pleaaase?” “no. 不可以。”

chenle seemed to be holding a chocolate bar high above his head, steely gaze fixed on your young child trying to ignore their pleading puppy dog eyes.

“妈妈说 no chocolate, right?” your heart warms when you realize he remembered you scolding your child yesterday, though you can’t help but to feel a little bad.

“chenle,” you say, both their heads turning towards you. “how about you give the little baby some chocolate and we can eat the eggs i just made in the kitchen?”

the way both their eyes shine almost identically is so fucking adorable.

Park Jisung

??!?>!?!>?>!?@#?>(*#(@*(*#!?!@?

“that’s��� mine??” “what?” “… it?” “it?” “the.. child?”

actually malfunctions.

jisung is very flustered, for lack of better terms. he was always considered the baby maknae of dream, but his own child? lord, help him.

you... him.... the baby... it or they.. came out of you??? what.

gets awfully flushed whenever he’s carrying his child around the building. everyone tries to stop and coo at the baby, + chenle and haechan have decided to make his life a living hell cracking up jokes whenever they can.

jisung is surprisingly good at getting your chaotic child to sleep with his bedtime stories, which are usually all his big yap sessions.

“and did daddy get that bruise on his forehead because he slipped while chasing uncle chenle and uncle haechan?” you question the two of them, wondering what they had been talking about earlier.

your child nods, bright eyes sparkling and grinning, “아빠 also said, ‘get back here, you devilish imbeciles!’”

oh fuck.

your accusatory gaze turns towards jisung, who averts his eyes, holding an ice pack to his bruising forehead, trying to shield himself from possibly getting more bruises.

“i-in my defense, they were—”

“one more time, park jisung, and i’m changing their legal godfathers to the two imbeciles you love and appreciate so so much.”

his eyes widen in shock, “you wouldn’t.”

“try me.”

now jisung is a grumbling mess when the two idiots are around his child, but the lack of chasing them around can be counted as an upgrade, i guess.

TAGLIST ↬  @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @ldh0000 @galacticnct @peterm4rker

[stardustedreams222]

Communicating with Your Ancestors

Something they’ve been trying to tell you but you’ve been ignoring

Samhain Edition

This is a collective reading, meaning there won’t be as much detail as if it’s a personal reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t 🩷 If you’d like a personal reading on this, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷}

Samhain is the perfect time to reach out and hear what your Ancestors have to say, with the veil between worlds being so thin. Today, the dead walk among the living. I wanted to do a Pick a Pile for everyone who wasn’t able to do the divination themselves during Samhain this year.

Close your eyes, Take a deep breath, and Pick the Pile{s} you’re most drawn to, to hear what your Ancestors want to tell you.

Pick a Pile

1 ➸ 2 ➸ 3

Content Warning: These are hard-to-hear messages and your Ancestors aren't holding anything back in this! Expect swear words and brief mentions of their time in slavery.

{I don’t know how but every pile has Ancestors from the East coast or South in the USA 🙈 and I feel a bit rude cos I didn’t expect this reading to just be for Americans but I think that’s just who wanted to come out in this reading. However they do wanna clarify that even though these are the places they’re showing me, there are people in this collective who are outside of the USA! But these are just the states with most relevance to the collective piles 🩷}

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑒 ~ 𝐶𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑒

Your Cards: Empress. Page of Wands, King of Wands, Ace of Swords, The Magician, 4 of Cups, 10 of Wands, Lovers Reversed, Ace of Wands, Death

About Your Ancestors:

They have a southern U.S. accent, {Louisiana, Georgia, Alabama} and the one Ancestor that’s most prominent in this reading is of Creole ancestry, others are Black and Hispanic and a small few, {one or two} are white.

Your Message:

You have something inside you that you’ve been wanting to create and some of you’ve been putting in the work to create it but it’s still in the planning process.

This is an opportunity of some kind either an entrepreneurship or a non profit organization. It’s something so close to your heart that you feel so deeply connected to it.

It’s your baby, you can see it being your life’s work, but there’s been some issues in this. Things feeling too complicated, like there's too much on your plate to fully enjoy this. Lately, you’ve been feeling like “Is this even worth all this?” while you work on it.

You've been dragging your feet, not wanting to get out of bed. Feeling overwhelmed, burnt out, depressed or just indifferent to the work now. But there will be a breakthrough soon, where you’ll feel free again. Happy and excited again for this.

This breakthrough is something that will remind you why you started this in the first place. It’ll ignite that spark in your heart again. And it’ll wash away all the burdened, overwhelming apathy and hatred that’s been growing towards this. It’ll be the push and the change in your mindset that’s needed in order to help you fully create this in all its glory. 

The Channeled message as I heard it:

“It’s worth it. I know you can’t see that right now and you havent been able to for a while now, but child it’s worth it. Change is coming, breakthrough is coming. Don’t throw in the towel just yet. Give it some more time.

In the meantime, while you wait for the breakthrough, the ‘Aha’ moment, I want you to rest, relax. Act like you’re 7 months pregnant and your back is aching, your feet are swollen and your belly is rumbling.

Get a massage, take a bubble bath, put up your feet, take that nap, eat more and fuel up. Get your mind off this as much as you can.

You clock out of work, stop thinking about it. You’re home— act like it.

In this rest and relaxation you’ll come back to yourself. And at the end of it you’ll remember why you started this in the first place. You started to help people. You started to help yourself. So why are you forgetting to take care of yourself right now?

Because you don’t think you deserve it?

Bullshit!

The very reason for why you’re doing this makes you worthy of taking a break every now and again and I’m not talking a 5 minute break or a ‘30 second alarm on your phone’ break where you reward yourself with chocolate and a happy jazz hands dance and then get back to work. I’m talking about a real vacation kind of break.

A weekend, a week, a couple of weeks. You deserve time off to rest your body and especially your mind.

Now, I know this sounds harsh, I don’t mean it to come across that way, Child, I just want what's best for you, and working yourself into the ground like you are now, is not that. So do us all a favor and take a break. Drink your water too and start listening to us. We know you can hear us, it just pisses us off more when you act like you don’t or can’t. Yeah, we see you… and we know you see us too."

That was all they wanted to say... They do love you they just really feel like calling you out right now 🙈 So I’ma ask them for a nice message now cos I don’t like ending readings on a sour note 🩷

New Cards: World Reversed, 7 of Pentacles, High Priestess, Hermit, Sun, 3 of Pentacles, Empress

They didn’t wanna give this lol, and it took a while for any cards to come out.

Their Comforting Message:

“Fiine… Here. We know life hasn’t been easy.

The world wasn’t handed to you as a child, you’ve had to work for everything you have including the respect of other people. You know this, I don’t know why you need me to say it. But you’re also highly aware of what’s going on beneath the surface.

Call it the years of isolation, dark night of the souls, all the shadow work you’ve been doing. You’ve been doing good. Working up to your happiness and that’s where you are now: Working to make this dream come true.

We are proud of you… we’d just like some recognition for all we’ve done to help you through this shit hole too. A cookie would be nice, you know. Or some water at the least. All I feel is like we’re yapping up a storm, drying our mouths, and all you hear is the charlie brown teachers spewing nonsense ‘cause you don’t wanna hear us!

{I asked them to redirect and actually give comforting messages lol}

We’re proud of you for all the hard work you’ve put in. Digging up the weeds and breaking the foundations of concrete just to plant some pretty flowers isn’t easy to do. God knows I know that… You’re intuitive, child, you know you don’t have to keep doubting whether you heard correctly or not… or saw correctly. We admire how far you’ve developed your clairs and psychic abilities in such a short life.

It didn’t come easy and we know that.

We saw all the work you put in, we saw the isolation periods and we’re proud of you for sticking with it and getting through it. I’m sorry we’re a bit bitter… but a cookie or an offering would go a long way I’m just sayin’… {They held their hands up in innocence, lol}

Know that our hands are on this project of yours too, we’re looking out for it, just like we’re looking out for you too. But we are serious about you needing to rest.

Even we needed to rest when we were out in the fields. {She means when they were enslaved, working the fields. Others are talking about being immigrants and working on farms with horrible pay "slaving away."}

So you gotta rest too, even moreso because what you’re making is gonna help a lot of people, which means this is just the beginning of the hard work.

You gotta find the balance between working hard and fully shutting off your work brain. You gotta find that balance now, before things take off and you end up dropping the ball down the road when you get burnt out from running around like a headless chicken.

We love you, We’re proud of you. Now get some rest, there’s nothing you have to prove by working so damn hard.”

All right 🩷 Well, you definitely have some vocal and stubborn ancestors 😂 They seem sweet though, even through the harsh message and cussing, I could tell they really love you, they just feel ignored and neglected.

Some of them also really want a cookie!

I heard “A raisin cookie tell ‘em I want raisin!” 😂🙈 Yall have some really adorable ancestors! Overall, their message is to take a break.

You’ve deserved a nice long break for a while now. I know it can be tough setting your work down for a day or two… or even 15 minutes. I struggle with the same thing but rest is essential. Rest is necessary. And your ancestors see it as beneficial for you and your business / project.

I think if it’s really hard to let go of your “work mode” maybe do it in increments. It doesn't have to be a hard clean break from today to tomorrow where you take two weeks off. You can start small, take an hour off. Turn your phone on dnd, grab a face mask, hot tea {or hot cocoa with the colder months here now!} just do what you can with what you have right now.

Try to see it as a meditative practice, as time goes by it’ll get easier to add more time to your breaks 🩷

Also… they’re really adamant about that cookie 🙈 Maybe look into doing some homemade cookie recipes, taking the time to make them could count as your break from work 🩷 {And they really like the idea of a homemade offering.}

That's all for this pile, thank you for sticking around and hearing your ancestors out! They really appreciate you wanting to hear them out right now 🩷🫂

If you’d like a personal reading on this, to elaborate or ask them more questions, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷 The reading itself is One Call Away for $8 or Family Meeting for $15}

Happy Samhain! 🎃

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑇𝑤𝑜 ~ 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘

Pile two is interesting because two sets of messages and Ancestors came out with the same cards 🙈 While they’re both essentially the same message they have enough of a nuance to them that I wanted to split them into groups to fully allow each set of Ancestors to be heard. So Pile 2 you’ve been split into Group A and Group B

please pick an emoji for your reading 🩷

🍯 Group A 🍯 🐝 Group B 🐝

Thank you 🩷 Please proceed accordingly 🥰

🍯 Group A 🍯

Your Cards: 4 of Swords, King of Pentacles Reversed, Page of Swords, Knight of Wands, 6 of Pentacles

About Your Ancestors:

They were really eager to talk. Their ethnicities are kinda hazy, I think this might be because it’s a collective reading and yall don’t share the same ancestry as the other members in this pile. Some are from New Jersey, may have moved to or from New York. Italian is prominent, but so is German.

Then some are venturing into Connecticut, Vermont, Maryland, Illinois, and Virginia. Michigan too but that's a small few.

Some of you are POC, Black and Asian being the most common after Italians and Germans. Some of you are really proud {as you should be 🩷} to have made it this far in an unfair world, not only for the discrimination against you but also because some of you have grown up on stories of what it was like in slavery. And a super small amount of you are born from a Freed Slave in the 1840's-1860’s who had a really rough time. I think they moved from the southern states to New York, and that’s where you grew up but now that you’re well established you moved down to the state they’re from in a way to prove your worth to everyone there. They’re really proud of you for that 🩷🫂 as am I ‘cause I don’t think I’d have the courage to do that especially with the Election coming up 🙈 

Your Message:

You’ve been searching for happiness when it comes to your wealth. You’re actually really wealthy this could be from your hard work or things have just gone really easy for you or a mix of both. For most of you, this is your hard work. 

Even though you’re rich and you can buy things that make you really happy you haven’t felt fulfilled. So you keep buying more and more in hopes it’ll satisfy that feeling, and it does for a little while but then that feeling fades again.

Your Ancestors are saying you have to start letting down your walls. You’ve been guarding your wealth as it grew {which is really wise!} but now that it’s fully grown and sustainable, you need to start leaving behind that mindset that this is only *your* money to spend. It’s not just yours, because your ancestors helped you reach this height of your wealth, they’ve been cultivating it too and the reason why is because they want to soften your heart towards the less fortunate. I know this is really hard for you to hear but you should look for places— credible organizations, shelters, charities— to donate to. Your ancestors are saying once you do you’ll find that satisfaction you’ve been looking for with your wealth.

However, there’s more. You should really do your research, go in person, and talk to the community and organization leaders to really understand their story and the cause you’re donating to before you donate because in this meet and greet you’ll actually learn the lesson your ancestors want you to.

Otherwise, you’ll just be giving money to different organizations still feeling unfulfilled and still searching for happiness and purpose.

Your Channeled Message:

“Let me- Lemme speak first! I can speak for all of us when I say: We know the hard work that went into you getting your bank account where it is now. It was hard work we won’t diminish that! But you gotta stop thinking that everyone everywhere can get where you are now by just putting in the hours and hard work. Some people can, but others just really can’t and they need a helping hand. And I know you wanna roll your eyes and huff but you didn’t do this alone either.

We all helped you. You put in the hard work, but we supplied the opportunities, sprinkling the good luck— {another ancestor interrupted} Dumped! We Dumped the good luck!! Don’t *sugarcoat* it.— That money isn’t just yours and I know, I know you hate this but you know deep down it’s true.

That’s why you’re not happy because you’re *meant* to be sharing that money with people. Spreading the joy and the serenity that that money can bring. We blessed you so you could bless others. But this will only work if you do this out of compassion, being truly moved by the causes you’re giving to. So you gotta go out there get your hands dirty and look into the organizations yourself, don’t get someone else to do it for you ‘cause that won’t work for you.

You’ll still be bitter and feeling lonely in that big house {They showed a mansion with a stone driveway and a cute cultivated garden with columnar shrubs, square bushes and a sculpted bush} with that fancy car {They showed a Porsche and a BMW and they said Lincoln too} because you need human connections and a real purpose to back yourself up in your happiness.

We know how you feel about sharing your money… but you have to let go of thinking ‘I worked hard for this life, for this money! Why should I have to share it with people who can’t even balance their checkbook!?’

You also gotta give people a chance to surprise you, not every poor person with a sob story is just out for a good con. Not all of them are.

You did good, making good on the opportunities we sent you and— I know that struck a nerve but calm down. We sent them so give us some credit.— working hard to get where you are now. And you don’t have to listen to us, but we’re just telling you what will make you happy and fill that hole in your heart and life. You can take our advice or not, it’s up to you. When you’re ready, though, we’ll help you find the right places to send money.”

They care about you, they definitely have a hand in your life even though that seems to upset you but they don’t mean for it to be an insult, instead a testament to how much they care and look after you. I think they’re really sweet for not wanting to push you to do things their way, some Ancestors I’ve met before have been really stubborn and persistent so I think yours are really level headed and kind for this.

I also get the sense that they were business folks when they were on Earth too, in law firms, stock brokerages, and corporations, {whether that job went anywhere or not for them is unclear.} because of how well they worked around the business side of things to help you land deals, get promotions, and i also saw they helped you get your first big job interview.

They also know the lingo for businesses but they have a somewhat informal way of talking to you, {or to me to talk to you.}

Overall, it was a hard pill to swallow but they just wanted to say they’re proud of you but if you wanna stop searching for happiness, this is a surefire way to do that and they’re highly encouraging it. Of course, the decision is yours to make.

That's all for this pile, thank you for sticking around and hearing your ancestors out! I know it wasn’t easy 🩷🫂

If you’d like a personal reading on this, to elaborate or ask them more questions, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷 The reading itself is One Call Away for $8 or Family Meeting for $15}

🐝 Group B 🐝

Your Cards: 9 of Wands Reversed, 8 of Cups, Queen of Cups, Knight of Pentacles

About Your Ancestors:

I smelled the ocean and then a chlorine pool. I think you or some of your ancestors may have been avid swimmers, swimming competitions seem relevant but also summers and holidays at a lake or beach. 

Indiana and Kentucky are prominent along with West Virginia. You may be from there or live there now, or your ancestors are from there/lived most of their lives there. You have some red haired ancestors, fair skin that burns easily. Blue eyes are common but there’s one Ancestor with Green eyes that’s really important here. Like piercing green emerald eyes.

It feels like you were born into wealth but that you also take your work seriously or enjoy working hard, to maintain that wealth, but that money also isn't "everything" to you.

Your Message:

They see that you want to be charitable but that you’re not sure who or what to give your money to. They suggest talking to more people and taking an active part in looking for causes or people in need. Researching charities online, going in person to local shelters and children’s organizations, you’ll find a place/cause/person to donate to really soon after doing this. Being in person will help you gauge the intentions of the organization and bring clarity on where you should share your money 🩷

Your Channeled Message:

“We know you’re bored, and looking for something fun to do. We’ve talked it over and we agree that donating to a good cause will benefit you. That being hands-on will be what you need to feel alive and excited and fill that need to be involved in something worth a damn.

There’s a few good ones but you’ll need to do your research, call them up, email them, set up a meeting with the campaign organizers and really ask them why they do this and how they use the money.

You’ll be able to gauge— we’ll help you to know— who is right for you and who is shoveling bullshit into your ears. There’ll be some that excite you and they look perfect from the outside but once you sit down and talk to them you’ll see they aren’t what they appear to be.

Be prepared to get your hopes crushed with the ones you think are good. It’ll be one of the places you didnt think twice about that will actually be the right fit for you. So just be prepared to be disappointed a lot before you find that one that lights your soul up.

Also be smart when you do find them, don’t write them a big check right away, do smaller donations first.

{I asked them why.}

Because you’ll be the first {or one of the first} to believe in them and their cause and a large donation will inflate their egos making them veer off course.

You gotta be subtle with your support— and ask to be part of the overseeing committe to track how they use the money. It sounds harsh but they’ll need you to keep them honest and on track. It’s not that they’re a bad organization, it's just that they live in the real world. Where bills and unexpected expenses pop up and they are just starting out so they kinda have their thoughts all over the place. They’re focus is on 20-50 years from now when it should be on this month, next month, this year.

With a large donation they’ll get ahead of themselves and start working on projects that shouldn’t and can’t be supported right now. Just stick to the plan and help them stick to it too. Small donations, regularly sent until we tell you to go bigger.

We love your heart. How much you want to give money away and share it with the world. We wish we were more like you when we were there {on Earth.}

We’re proud that you abandoned our thick skulled ideas and we’re proud to call you our grandson/granddaughter. {Most of you are male but a few are female so they said both 🩷}

We’re sorry we weren’t more supportive of you before, but we see the truth now and we’re here to support you in whatever you need now. And excuse our language some of us are still learning to behave more politely.

We love you. Ask for our help, we’ll do it. We really want you to talk to us more, and we wanna talk to you more. Bridge this gap that’s here ‘cause of me. {some mean from being in the Otherworld and some mean from their “bitter stubborn pig-headedness” —their words lol— while they were here on Earth.} I hope that we can make some kind of arrangement for that. Maybe go out for some tea or something.”

Overall you’re very pure hearted when it comes to your wealth. You don’t take it for granted and you love helping people but your Ancestors are concerned about you giving money to the wrong people. Almost like naivety but it’s just optimism and they understand that 🩷

They aren’t concerned because they think you can’t handle money on your own they just know that if you give money to people who misuse it and you find out down the road you’ll be heartbroken and it could lead to you putting your guard up when it comes to donating later, and they don’t want that.

To protect you, they’re recommending that you become mentally and physically invested in the organizations you support financially.

And they do have deep regrets for how they behaved here with you in the past. Some of you have ancestors that you knew here before they ascended, others only know stories— especially from the people in your hometown, they hold “grudges” towards your Ancestors because of how they behaved. So this could also be a small town thing 🩷

That's all for this pile, thank you for sticking around and hearing your ancestors out! 🩷🫂

If you’d like a personal reading on this, to elaborate or ask them more questions, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷 The reading itself is One Call Away for $8 or Family Meeting for $15}

Happy Samhain! 🎃✨

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 ~ 𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒

Your Cards: Hanged man Reversed, Queen of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, Heirophant, Emperor, 9 of Cups, Strength, Justice Reversed, Death Reversed, 10 of Wands Reversed, 4 of Cups Reversed, 2 of Cups, 6 of Wands, Knight of Wands, King of Swords Reversed, 7 of Cups Reversed

About Your Ancestors:

Your Ancestors couldn’t wait to speak! The cards just started flying out so they definitely feel passionate about this.

Delaware is prominent. Appalachian is also important. Then it’s Missouri, Iowa, Ohio, North Dakota, Arkansas.

The Ancestor that was most prominent was an older lady, she was sitting in a dining hall or an old tea house {where they serve tea and cucumber sandwiches and the ladies dress up in vintage attire and hats.} She is white but the other Ancestors here are not. She was just the one that felt more confident speaking. She isn’t someone you’ve met in this life, she’s either an Ancestor from centuries ago or she ascended while you were too young to remember her. There are Hispanics here, Indians as well, a few Blacks, a handful of Natives from both America and Canada. 🩷

Your Message:

You’re avoiding an opportunity here because you’re afraid of the responsibility that will come from it and you’re afraid of being seen in a public way. Some of you feel like imposters and like if you become famous you’ll end up in lawsuits because you’ve seen it happen to people you adored and your role models ended up being problematic later on and you’re afraid of that happening to you.

{Can I just say Ditto!! 🙋🏻‍♀️ So I totally understand where you’re coming from!}

However, your Ancestors are saying that will never happen to you! You are the embodiment of pure love, kindness and compassion, even if you do have anger and hate towards some things or some people, you are still pure at heart and this is your reward.

This is your prize for being an amazing and beautifully kind person. It’s time for you to stop being afraid of being seen and being famous. It’s time for you to see yourself as you are and not who you’ve been telling yourself you are all these years.

This opportunity for you is something you will use to influence necessary change in this world. Laying down foundations and tearing up outdated ideas to build a more stable, respectful and focused world. This is something you’ll be partnering up with the Divine to create. It’s an incredible thing and they don’t want you to be afraid of it.

You’re worried you’ll lead in a cruel and ruthless, judgmental way but you won’t. You’ll lead with a vision for a better future for everyone, and people will see that 🩷

As for feeling overwhelmed and like there will be too much to carry, you’ll have help. From the Divine and in people, you’ll have the ability to share the load with others so even though you are the “face” of this and the leader, you won’t be leading alone 🩷🫂

Channeled Messages as I heard it:

“Child, you’re wonderful. Incredible, beautiful and kind. Why are you so worried about this turning out badly for yourself? You’re your own worst enemy, you know that, right?

Overthinking and worrying about what people will think of you, worrying about how you’ll mess something up unintentionally. Stop that! {She smacked your hand away from your mouth as you went to bite your nails lol}

Grab some tea {others said water} and pull yourself together. We didn’t raise you to be like this, worried and insecure about your self.

So look in the proverbial mirror and fix your hair and makeup {this is still a genderless reading but this Ancestor is prominent right now and speaking to a makeup wearer 🩷} Stand up straighter, keep your chin up and know who you are. You’re {They said some names lol like actually first middle and last names of people so for privacy reasons I won’t be sharing those.} for christ’s sake!

You are kind, compassionate, intelligent and meant to be seen as a leader in this world!

Don’t shy away from it because of other people’s missteps. I don’t care who your role model was, and quite frankly I do nOt care what they did to screw up my child’s view of themselves but you do not get to shy away from what this world has to offer you, what *I am* offering you, just because of someone else’s dirty laundry getting waved around in town square! {She huffs and straightens herself out as she pulls on the hem of her fitted blouse as she reins in her frustration.}

Now… I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m sick and tired of saying this to you and me not being heard. So pardon my lashing out but this had to be said because you my dear, are wonderful and you deserve every good thing this life has to offer you and I will make damn sure that you get it!

So get off your damn tush and start putting yourself out there because not only is it good for the world but it’s good for you and your happiness. And after all the hell you’ve been through, you deserve a bit of happiness in your life. So take it. ‘Cause it’s right there for the taking.”

She’s definitely passionate about this and I think her swearing is adorable, it made me laugh a lot during the channel 🩷

Although she was the most prominent Ancestor to come through, the others all agreed with her. It felt like when I asked for them to speak they all looked at her and she knew she got appointed with the job to speak for everyone.

I think she also might be the oldest of the group of Ancestors to come through but as I typed that they corrected me 🙈 There are older ones in the group, they appointed her because she has been around long enough to feel their frustration and hope for all of you to ���get your act together and put on the best show of your lives” {their words} so they let her speak for all of them.

Plus they knew I’d enjoy her company and energy 😂🩷 They’re all so adorable. This is definitely my favorite pile for this reading because of her!

As for her message, I think it’s definitely something I relate to so I can understand the fear and holding yourself back to protect yourself but the cards and the Ancestors were very clear and adamant that you will not fail.

Something that might help is knowing that: your Ancestors and the Divine will not give you something amazing and push you to do it if it led to your humiliation or detriment when they know it’s something you’re genuinely terrified of.

I know it can be scary, I dealt with it when my spirit team told me to start doing readings online, I’ll prolly share my story later but it was really tough to push through that fear.

I recommend learning about and healing your solar plexus, heart, root, and crown centers {also inappropriately called Chakras} because that’ll help you open up to the possibility of entering the public eye and help nurture and solidify your perspective of yourself.

It might not be an easy road to heal these but if you need help, my asks and DMs are always open!! 🩷 And your Ancestors are also very willing to help you themselves so if you feel comfortable talking to them and asking them directly for help I definitely see that as a great option for you in your journey! 🩷✨

That’s all for this reading 🩷

I really enjoyed doing this!! It did take a lot longer to do this pick a pile because of all the different Ancestors in each pile but it was genuinely so much fun!

If you’d like a personal reading on this, to elaborate or ask them more questions, you can purchase a reading on my Ko-Fi Shop {You’ll need to be a Moon Member for $5 a month in order to purchase it 🩷 The reading itself is One Call Away for $8 or Family Meeting for $15}

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

If you have any questions or want me to elaborate on something in this post please reach out, either with my “Pigeon Messenger 🕊️”, comments or DMs. 🩷

𐐪𐑂 My Etsy Divination Shop | My Ko-Fi Shop

𐐪𐑂 Follow my Personal Tumblr @withloveastrid

𐐪𐑂 Follow @starlingschool for divination tips

𐐪𐑂 Support me on Ko-Fi for $3 a Month and get Exclusive Readings 🫖

With Love, Astrid 🩷✨

[chernabogs]

A Rainy Wandering

Inc: Reader/Malleus (99% platonic but we had to sneak those subtle feelings in there at the end. Love me some two oblivious clowns) Second person POV Warnings: None WC: 1.8k Summary: Er so that new Malleus card, yeah? (Or: hey your bff scheduled in a 4 hour gargoyle tour, are you coming, orrrr...?) Also s.o to Alexandra with her literal Field Guide to Gargoyles and founding of the Gargoyle Appreciation Society. My hero rn for this hope they are thriving.

The campus is shrouded in grey as the rain falls at a steady rate around you. You grip your umbrella with both hands to combat against the gentle tug of the wind as you stand at the end of your dorms long walkway, shifting from side to side on occasion to look at both ends of the road. Behind you, the orange glow of Ramshackles cozy inside beckons to you, promising an escape from the rain in the form of wool blankets and terrible reality television. You’re half tempted to go back, but you staunchly remind yourself that you had made a promise, and you were not someone to fall back on your word.

That being said, your friend is about five minutes late, but you can forgive him. He’s never been good at keeping track of time. 

You shift on your heels again as you tilt the umbrella back to look at the grey sky. You last all of two seconds before too many raindrops fall on your face and you look back down, blinking the water out of your eye. The motion lets you take note of a pair of boots standing to your right. 

“Oh!” You splutter, moving your umbrella again to look at to whom those boots belong. Malleus stands in a very casual, unassuming manner, his own umbrella in hand and his brow quirked in amusement. “How long have you been standing here for?” 

You know the answer to that already—probably just seconds—but Malleus’ lips curl into a secretive smile as he shrugs a shoulder. “Long enough to observe you taking a makeshift wash.” 

A sour look is what he gets in turn, although yours always lack venom when it comes to him. A quick glance over his form shows you that he’s come prepared for the weather as well. In addition to his umbrella (which is decorated with gargoyles, to your amusement), he wears a black and purple raincoat, gloves, and has tied his hair back in a looped knot you think you've never seen him wear before. Compared to your yellow rubber boots and yellow raincoat, he looks like he stepped out of a high-fashion shoot. 

To serve and observe, apparently, is the agenda for today. You missed that memo. 

“I need to tie a bell to your wrist so I know when you’re coming.” You grumble as he steps back to the road, leaving you to fall in line with him. His warm laughter fills the air as you begin the first few legs of the tour he’s been talking about for ages.

“Now, I do think I recall you saying that once before,” he muses, tapping his fingers against the metal gargoyle at his umbrella's base. “You have yet to follow through.” 

 “I think your students would mob my dorm if I were to try and tie anything to you. Maybe I should just put an alarm on your phone instead—as long as you don’t break it again.” 

Often this would earn you a look of mock hurt, but Malleus seems far too jubilant at the moment to care about the subtle read you’re giving him. He’s smiling away, as happy as can be as he walks by your side. He even has a little bounce in his step. It almost makes you want to laugh at the sight; how can anyone call him intimidating when he’s looking like a child about to get a present? 

“Ah, yes, yes. I have been diligent in keeping my devices in check. Shroud has been of much help in that.” His gaze darts around the campus until he loops his arm with yours and pulls you swiftly to the right. You’re pliant to his guidance, only sighing in response as you let him pull you wherever he sees fit. This is something you’ve come to realize about the nature of your relationship with the prince. Malleus is a chronic wanderer, tending to just go off wherever he wishes, but he’s also mildly codependent. Since you two had firmly established that you are friends—hell, you gave the man a friendsgiving card—everywhere Malleus drifts off to, he takes you like a tether.

“Ah! Our first stop on our tour,” he begins, still brimming with energy. He tries to move his umbrella, only to have it collide with yours in the process. “Actually, before we begin, would you be so kind as to close your umbrella? We can use mine.”

You lean back to look up at your friend incredulously. At well over 6 feet, horns excluded, you doubt that you will remain dry for long should Malleus shield you both with his umbrella. He stares back both unwavering and with expectation in his look. You purse your lips. He raises an eyebrow. You lean back a bit, he replicates the action, his gaze looking you up and down. Daring you.

Oh, girl.

After a second of silent staring with a dash of attitude that the man rarely shows anyone else, you huff a sigh and close your umbrella, scooting closer to him once you do. His expression lights up as you roll your eyes, and he resumes his tangent. 

“Thank you, my dear friend. Now, as I was saying, our first stop on our tour! If you direct your attention upwards you will see what is aptly called a screamer gargoyle. The positioning of its body—with hands behind its head and its mouth agape—is meant to remind those who witness it that torment lay ahead if they fail to fulfill a particular purpose. You may see these on the cathedrals in numerous nations, as they were quite popular to evoke terror in worshippers.”

 You scoot forward to look past the edge of the umbrella at the gargoyle in particular. True to Malleus’ word, the carved figure looks as though it’s screaming in agony, its eyes directed upwards, and its body bent at an angle. You smirk a little. 

“Kind of looks like Ace and Deuce during exams.” 

Malleus hums thoughtfully. “Perhaps that is why they put one on a school ground. To remind students of the torment they will endure should they neglect studying and strike deals for grades instead.”

“So mean,” you chastise, even though you were the one to start this train of thought. The two of you continue your trail along the main road. Malleus keeps your arms firmly linked together as he chatters on, stopping on occasion to point out a particularly significant gargoyle, or a grotesque lined against the wall. You reckon this is the most your friend has talked in a while, considering his need to stop and clear his throat with an apology. 

You also consider that this is probably one of few times that he’s managed to rope someone into a walk with him like this. Out of the joy his joy seems to bring you, you prompt him with several questions as you tour about, doing your best to remember the info dumping you’re being subjected to. A slip up of calling a grotesque a gargoyle by mistake, which earned you a verbal berating in the gentlest of manners, was enough to make you pay closer attention.

As the rain begins to lighten and the sun valiantly fights to break free, the two of you come to a stop in one of the courtyard areas of the main building. You fish out a granola bar from your pocket as Malleus holds the umbrella, offering him half of it before you look around at the building. There aren’t as many gargoyles here as the other areas, save for one impressive dragon carving looming over the courtyard entrance. You gesture to it in silence, your mouth too full of chocolate and granola to speak. Fortunately, Malleus has become more then attuned to your gestures to know what you’re saying—another reward of your friendship. 

“That is one of the older gargoyles present on the campus. Considering that the courtyard we are standing in served as part of the original residence, I would wager that the initial owner of the lands commissioned this.” Malleus taps the base of the umbrella again as he tilts it back to look upwards. A few stray raindrops hit his cheek, making his brow furrow as he inspects the moss-covered structure. He’s looking at the gargoyle, while you’re looking at the expressions he’s pulling. “Most people surmise that the selection of a dragon was done to evoke fear in opponents who may try to take these lands, but I’m of the mindset that it was done to symbolize the wisdom and guardianship the owners held over their subjects. Dragons are, after all, quite wise.”

“So the dragon says.” You reply teasingly as you look at the statue. He’s right to guess that it’s certainly the oldest one you’ve seen. The stone is aged and slightly cracked along the edges. You know that Malleus has a habit of carving statues himself, and you wonder if he’s ever considered trying to repair it. Given his love for all things crumbling and ancient, however, you also wager that the thought of rebuilding something that time has claimed is well against his personal morals. 

“My assessment is free of bias, Prefect.” He counters with a mockingly scolding tone to his voice. You know it to be in jest by the way his eyes remain alight with joy. He really is infectious when he’s in a good mood, dangerously so, and a part of you wishes he could stay this way consistently instead of sliding back to the quiet, brooding form he can be when he’s feeling temperamental. 

You scrunch up the granola wrapper before shoving it in your pocket with a shake of your head. “Oh yes, definitely no projecting going on here.”

“I will leave you out in this rain.” He warns, tilting the umbrella so that you’re out of its cover. You yelp in protest and duck back underneath, practically squishing yourself against him to keep from doing that again. 

“You like me too much to do that!” You argue back as you grip the umbrella handle yourself. He breaks his facade of sternness to laugh as his arm comes around you to rest on your back. The act feels far too natural for the first time he’s ever done it, yet you acquiesce regardless. “Besides, who else will finish this loop with you? Silver is training with Sebek and Lilia is off… well. Doing whatever he pleases.”

Another thoughtful hum vibrates in Malleus’ chest, which you can feel considering the proximity of your bodies in this moment. A sudden awareness strikes you that makes you feel a bit awkward about it all. Out of reflex you nudge his waist with your arm, prompting him to give you some more space.

“I suppose you have me there,” he notes, granting you a half smile as he looks down to your irate expression. He offers you the crook of his arm, and you silently oblige by linking it with yours. He tugs you a bit closer this time around as he beckons to the courtyard exit. “Let us continue, then. I would say we have another hour at least. Oh, I do hope you’re as excited as I am for what’s to come.”

[strnilolover]

NNN - chris sturniolo - you don’t need me

Chris was easily one of your bestest friends. Having met in high school through some mutual friends, you both had clicked with your similar interests. Your friendship easily carried into your adult years even after those same friends who introduced you fell out of the friend group.

It was always you and chris — chris and you. You stuck together through ups and downs, good times and bad times. There was hardly anything that could separate you two from each other — not even his brothers who you grew close too as well. You told each other everything — who you hooked up with, things you needed help with, everything.

But that all started to change when chris met her — scarlet. When they started officially dating is when chris seemed to become more distant from you, spending more time with her. Sure you didn’t mind much, considering the fact that she is chris’ girlfriend — he’d want to spend a lot of his time with her and you didn’t mind.

But what made you upset was the lack of communication on his end — never texting you to tell you if he’s busy or when he’s going to be. You just wanted to know so you weren’t trying to ruin the plans he may have already made — it didn’t help that scarlet wasn’t any good either.

So here you were, staring down at your phone, feeling the familiar ache when Chris leaves your message unread yet again. It’s been like this since he started dating her. You’d tried to stay supportive, happy for him when he met someone new. But the excitement quickly faded as she became less of a girlfriend and more of a wedge between you and Chris.

The first time you had noticed her attitude was at one of Chris’s hangouts. You had walked over, ready to grab a drink from the table when she suddenly stepped in front of you with a saccharine smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Oh,” she’d said, eyeing you up and down, “I didn’t know Chris invited… everyone.” She’d tilted her head in mock confusion, clearly implying you didn’t belong. You had brushed it off at first, laughing it away, figuring she was just getting used to Chris’s friends.

But it didn’t stop. Every time you were around her, she found ways to make you feel out of place. One night when you and chris had gone to dinner with a few friends, she slid up next to you while you were getting food, making sure no one was watching while she looked over at you as if she was inspecting you.

“Do you really need another plate?” she’d asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just… some people don’t know when enough is enough, you know?” her words dripped with malice, it made you feel uneasy.

The comment left you speechless, stinging more than you wanted to admit. But you kept it to yourself, not wanting to stir up drama. Chris deserved to be happy, and if she made him happy, you could put up with her snide remarks. Or so you told yourself.

One afternoon, you decided to meet Chris at a coffee shop to catch up, just the two of you, like old times. But when you arrived, she was there, sitting next to him with a possessive arm looped through his. Her eyes tracked you as you approached, a slow, mocking smile spreading across her face.

“Oh, you’re here,” she said, her tone dripping with false warmth. “Chris didn’t tell me you were coming. I thought this was, you know, our time.” the disgust on her face was clear, to you at least. A frown pulled across your face — why couldn’t it just be you and him without her?

Chris, oblivious as ever, just shrugged, looking between the two of you with an awkward smile. “I thought it’d be fun if we all hung out.” he said, his free hand coming up to run through his hair — a habit he did when he was nervous. You went to speak, lips parting but were quickly cut off.

She didn’t let you get a word in. “Actually, babe, I think we had plans later… but it’s okay,” she said, her gaze flicking back to you with a knowing smirk. “Maybe next time you can give us a little heads-up before you just… drop in.”

You forced a smile, feeling that familiar, nauseating sense of discomfort settling in as you took a seat across from the both of them. “Of course. I didn’t mean to intrude.” you muttered, quickly picking up the menu to order something — your talking plans were ruined.

After that, her taunts became a regular part of your life. She’d bump into you at parties, slyly insult your outfit or make snide comments about how “clingy” you were to Chris. And every time, Chris seemed too blind—or too charmed—to see through her sweet facade. It hurt, but you kept swallowing it down, determined not to let her get to you — and god was it a bitter pill to swallow.

One night, Chris invited you to another party at his place, saying he missed hanging out like old times. You had agreed, hoping that maybe — just maybe — this time would be different, maybe she’d lay off for the night. But when you arrived, you noticed the way she lingered by his side, whispering in his ear as her eyes flicked toward you, a glint of triumph in her gaze.

You managed to avoid her for most of the night, sticking with other friends and keeping yourself occupied with the drinks and the snacks the were laid out on the counter in the kitchen — or just busting yourself with dancing. But when you headed to the kitchen for another drink, she followed, cornering you by the counter.

“Funny, isn’t it?” she said, her voice barely masking the hostility beneath her smile. “You’re still hanging around like a little lost puppy. Does Chris know how desperate you are to get his attention?” her words left you speechless, stabbing you in the chest. Does she just think that’s all you are? — an attention whore?

You clenched your jaw, the anger bubbling up in your chest. “I’m not desperate for anything. Chris and I have been friends for years.” you gritted out, your words almost lost to the music — but you knew she heard what you said.

She laughed, tilting her head with a pitying look. “Friends, sure. Keep telling yourself that.” She leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “But here’s the thing. He doesn’t need you anymore. So why don’t you do us both a favor and stop acting like you belong here?”

You felt your face heat up, a mix of anger and hurt swirling inside you. Every ounce of restraint you had kept you from firing back. But it was getting harder to stay quiet, harder to brush off the blatant cruelty.

Instead of responding, you pushed past her — your shoulder shoving into her’s harshly, heading outside to get some air, trying to calm the pounding in your chest. It was one thing for her to be possessive or rude, but to imply that your friendship with Chris didn’t matter hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You went home early that night, ignoring the questions from friends and the puzzling look chris had given you when you got into your car and drove home. As you drove — you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact as to why she didn’t like you. You never did anything to her, you’ve been nothing but nice.

When you climbed into bed that night — your tears soaked your pillow, crying yourself to sleep.

A few days later, you finally decided to talk to Chris alone. You messaged him, asking if he could come over to your place to talk, and to your relief, he agreed. There’s a knock at your door sometime later — your body moving toward the front door. You take a deep breath, firmly gripping the door handle you open it, and there he was, standing with his hands in his pockets, a faint look of regret in his eyes.

Does he know?

You step aside, letting him slip in past you as he flashed you a smile. Closing the door behind you, you walk to the living room — chris following behind as he takes a seat on the couch next to you. He didn’t say anything for a moment — this look in his eyes that made you frown was hard to read.

“It’s been a while..” he muttered and you forced a smile, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to already spill over. “Yeah, it’s been a while.” You took a breath, steadying yourself. “Chris, I… I need to talk to you about scarlet.” you whispered, sucking in another deep breath.

His expression shifted slightly, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. “What about her?” he asked.

You looked down at your hands, gathering your thoughts. “She�� she’s not as nice as you think she is, Chris. She goes out of her way to make me feel like I don’t belong around you anymore. It’s constant.” the words made your chest feel tight — you can’t believe you’re even saying this.

He frowned, leaning back on the couch. “I think you’re overreacting. She’s never said anything bad about you to me.” he points out — his reply only making your tone harsher,

“Of course she wouldn’t,” you replied, frustration bubbling up. “She does it when you’re not around. It’s not little stuff, Chris. She’s cruel. She treats me like… like I’m just some random person getting in the way.” your voice strained, throat threatening to close up on you as you continued to hold back your emotions.

Chris looked away, shaking his head. “Look, I know she has a strong personality, but she wouldn’t just bully you for no reason. Maybe she’s just protective.” he tried to reason. You felt your heart sink, his words hitting you like a cold splash of reality. “Protective? Chris, I’m your friend. I’ve always been there for you. I’m not some threat.” you watched his face twist — he wasn’t understanding it.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know. It just feels like… maybe this isn’t as big of a deal as you’re making it.” you swallowed the hurt, nodding slowly. “Maybe you’re right,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “Maybe… maybe you just don’t need me around anymore.”

You stood up, tears slipping down your face now as you looked down at him, feeling like you were watching the end of something you’d held so close for so long. “Wait, come on, you know it’s not like that,” he protested, standing up a flicker of panic crossing his face.

But you just shook your head, forcing a smile through your tears. “I thought you’d have my back, Chris. I thought I mattered enough to you. But I can’t keep fighting for a place in your life when it’s this one-sided.”

He steps closer, reaching for your hand, but you pull away. The distance between you feels insurmountable, like an ocean too wide to cross. He’s standing right in front of you, and yet he’s never felt so far.

There’s a long silence as he looks down to the floor, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” he mumbled, a hand running through his hair — something you’ve grown so used to, but may not ever get to see again.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Chris — or her.” you whisper, feeling the weight of those words settle in your chest. His head raised to look at you — the reality settling into him. He knew — he knew what was happening and he feels so stupid for not noticing anything sooner, maybe you were right. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

Without another word, you walked to your front door — opening it as you looked back at chris, his feet moving him slowly. You were still crying — your chest aching with pain as he got closer. When he passed by you, stepping onto your front porch — he looked over his shoulder.

“I love you.” was all he said before walking away. The words settling in like a final goodbye, the tears flowing harder than ever now. As you closed the door, you realized that this was you letting him go — maybe for good — leaving behind the person you’d once called your best friend.

© strnilolover

[fallstaticexit]

Ahhh it's been 65 years, and I feel kinda crazy that I've had this sitting in my drafts for like 2 months. Assuming most readers of Missing Moments are also The Art of Being Seen readers- there's some hefty lore here that will come into play later.

prev/ next

Olive: Time to move on, right Kia?

[phone pings]

Nancy: Hello darling. Do you have a moment to talk?

Olive: Who’s this?

Olive: I don’t recall saying yes.

Nancy: [sighs] It feels so good to hear your voice again.

Olive: I only answered to tell you to block me.

Nancy: I would never.

Olive: Even though I asked?

Nancy: Well. I am incredibly selfish.

Olive: Why did you call me?

Nancy: I would like to see you, Olivia. Please.

Olive: I’m not for sale, sorry.

Nancy: I know. I wouldn’t want to meet on those terms again. If I could do it all over, I would have asked you to have dinner with me when I met you. I would have courted you properly, Olivia.

Olive: [scoffs] You would have gone to a strip club and asked a stripper to have dinner with you? Seriously? When would we have ever met under any other circumstance? It’s been made very clear to me how different we are. The only way this would have happened was if it were a fairy tale.

Nancy: What matters is, I have met you. I’ve experienced you and I can’t go back. My husband- my ex husband- he signed the petition for our divorce. I came out to him- officially. It’s over.

Olive: [stunned] That’s- that’s great. I am so happy for you-

Nancy: I’m leaving all of it. I’m starting over. All I want is you, if you’ll have me.

Olive: [sighs]

Nancy: Let’s just have one dinner and after we’ve talk, then you can decide. There’s so much I want to say, but I want to look you in the eyes as I say it.

Olive: One dinner?

Nancy: One dinner.

Nancy: May I see you tonight? I’ll send my driver and I’ll cook for you at my place. Anything you like.

Olive: Tonight is fine.. sure.

Nancy: [sighs happily] It’ll be hard not to kiss you the moment I see you-

Olive: Not too much, lover girl. It’s one dinner and I’m still very annoyed with you about all this, ok?

Nancy: Yes, my love. I’ll see you tonight.

Olive: And don’t look at me like that. It’s just dinner and a conversation, ok? I am not going to sleep with her ok?

Malcolm: Well. Now I see why my mother was so willing to ruin an entire empire over you. Those mugshots did you no justice.

Olive: What is this? Where’s Nancy?

Malcolm: I noticed our driver was heading this way, I figured I’d tag along. Sight see. Get in. Let’s chat.

Malcolm: I wonder if this feels like dejavu to my mother. She makes yet another thoughtless mistake and someone comes along to make it all go away. She has a nasty habit of that, you know.

Olive: Listen. I’m not feeling whatever family drama you all have going on. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to talk to Nancy.

Malcolm: I was raised by a narcissistic liar and a spineless coward. If I let this company fall apart, then wouldn’t it all had been for nothing?

Olive: [scoffs] So you want pity? I’m suppose to pity you? Give me a break.

Malcolm: Not pity, no. If anything, I pity you.

Olive: Is that right?

Malcolm: When it comes to success, you pale in comparison to your half siblings. You’ve financially crippled your parents in legal fees since your arrest and all you have to show for it is by shaking ass in a low end strip club in the Spice District. That’s right, I know alot about you Olivia Briar.

Malcolm: I know about that quaint little family of yours down in the country. I know about your niece’s struggling restaurant and her undocumented partner. Funny, he’s able to acquire loans under a fake name but there’s no records of a Noa Briar anywhere. I wonder what else your family is hiding.

Olive: [shaken] What is this about? Are you threatening me? What the fuck do you want?

Malcolm: I’m here to help you, not hurt you. One of the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned was the power of the dollar. I can make a lot of your problems go away with one deposit if you do just one thing.

Olive: [softly] ....What?

Malcolm: We’re going to turn around and park in front of your building. You’re going to go upstairs, pack up your things and then, you’re going to go back home to sweet old Henford. You’ll pay your parents back with the money you’ll receive from this arrangement and you’ll help your niece and nephew. All your problems - poof- gone.

Malcolm: All you have to do is walk away, and stay away. You see, my mother has a nasty debt to this family she still needs to pay. Don’t make it your burden.

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 16

content warning: angst, recreational drug use, mentions of food, 18+ so MDNI (not spoiling the positions this time, so you’ll just have to read and see)

word count: 8.2k (thank ya once again @slushycoookie 😚)

If you really love Xina as a character, then don't read this. Nothing crazy happens, it's just so far removed from her original character action-wise that you’ll definitely get angry. That's all. 🥸👍🏾

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GymRat!Miguel who should have taken the edible.

He held his head down, everything over the past years starting to click.

The touches, the stares, the treatment. Xina wasn’t just close to him because they were friends.

She was in love with him and he was too dumb to see it, too naïve to even think it was a possibility.

He takes a deep breath and looks down at his hands.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Xina speeds out. “Or maybe you can just let it sit with you.”

“Ok.”

Xina widens her eyes, “O-ok? What do you mean ok? Ok as in you…you like me back?”

“Ok as in I hear you. I understand.”

Xina nods, hand holding her elbow.

“And I’m sorry that so much happened to you. I wish you would have reached out. It sounds traumatizing and no one should have to go through that on their own.”

Xina waits, heart beating out of her chest.

“But?”

“But, it doesn’t excuse anything you’ve done to me. Not a single fucking thing.”

She opens her mouth, eyes burning and eyebrow pinched, “I-“

“-need to let me talk first,” Miguel finishes. “You know how much you mean to me, so you have to understand that what you did was so low, Xina. It hurt, genuinely.”

“I know.”

“You know and yet you continued. It’s funny because after you were being weird to my girlfriend the first time you met her, I still defended you. That’s how much I had faith in our friendship.”

Xina blinks rapidly, pulling her hair back.

“Now, I feel even more stupid because this,” Miguel pushes his hand in and out between himself and Xina, “looks exactly how she thought it was. But that’s what you wanted, right? You wanted her to feel like you were someone to look out for.”

Her lip wobbles, “For just a second, I was relieved. I was so relieved that someone finally fucking beat me to you. But then I saw how you looked at her and I, I felt something boil over.”

Miguel wanted to laugh in disbelief.

“Xina, that doesn’t make it ok for you to go in my phone, plot and scheme, then lie like you didn’t. When has that ever been right?”

“Miguel, I know that so please-“

“You don’t love me.”

Xina falters, a tear falling down her face. A light from a car outside brightens the room for just a second, and she sees Miguel give an unfamiliar look of disdain.

“Yes, I do. I do love you. How could you say that I don’t?”

“Because you really don’t,” Miguel pushed his hair off of his face, only for it to fall back in place. “Love isn’t seeing me happy and trying your best to ruin it. Love is not control. If this is what you do to me, I would hate to see what you’re willing to do to someone who wants to be yours.”

She squats, hands wiping away the sorrow on her face.

In the past, Miguel would have been at her side arms open for comfort, heart hurting to see her like this. Right now, he just wants to plead at your waist for forgiveness.

“I don’t really want to look at you right now. I think you should go.”

He starts to get up, tired.

“M-Miguel? I, I’m sorry.”

“Me too. About a lot of shit I need to fix. You have more than just me to own up to and whenever you’re ready to do that, let me know. Right now though? You can see your way out.”

“Miguel, just,” she grabs his arm. “If I- Do you-“ her quiet sobs rack through her body. “I don’t want to lose you. Y-you don’t have to like me back.”

He turns and grabs her arms softly, eyes going back and forth between hers.

“Go home, Xina.”

GymRat!Miguel who opens the door to a flustered Gabriel and a nonchalant Tempest sitting on the floor.

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Tempest cuts Gabriel off. She looks past Miguel to a mourning Xina. “C’mon, girl, I’ll walk you to the door.”

Miguel steps aside as Xina shuffles over. He does his best to ignore the last tug she gives his hoodie before she leaves.

GymRat!Miguel who crosses his arms as he looks at Gabriel.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough to put a smile upon my face,” Gabriel grins. “It’s like watching your dreams come into fruition. I feel like I have enough adrenaline to run to New York and back, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. This isn’t funny, Gabri.”

“Uh,” Gabriel peers left and right. “It’s a little funny. To me.”

Miguel reaches into his pocket and threw the gummy into his mouth. The taste was interesting, to say the least.

“This is a good thing,” Gabriel tries again. “It’s one step closer to what you wanted, right?”

Miguel thought about you from last week.

He didn’t want you to look at him like that again.

“It is. I just don’t know how I let it get this far.”

Gabriel squeezes his shoulder with a pout.

“Because you’re an idiot, to be frank.”

The squawk that Gabriel lets out when Miguel hits him on the back echoes through the hallway.

GymRat!Miguel who goes back to his room to see a knocked out Lyla and Winston with a plate piled high with wings and yams.

“Yo,” he whispers, but his voice is still unbearably loud. “I think she’s trying to steal my fucking food.”

Miguel looked to Lyla who was folded over a beanbag, neck bent awkwardly. Her mouth was open and a little wet, but she was snoring up a storm.

“No, she’s not,” Miguel laughs. His friend's eyes are blown wide, horrified, like he’s in the middle of a haunted house.

Winston observes Lyla before turning back to Miguel, slow like he was made of wires and metal, “Don’t say shit to me when you’re next.”

GymRat!Miguel who shouldn’t have turned on your playlist as his limbs got heavier.

He was going to try and write something down in his journal, thoughts from before too much for his head.

It started with what just happened down the hallway. Was he right or wrong for what he said and what he did? Should he have done more?

Was it enough for you to see the truth?

You. You and everything you brought him. Your being, your emotions, you core, your love.

Now, he’s staring at the page full of your name alone scrawled across it with slow blinking eyes.

It feels like your hands are all over him and you’re whispering in his ears. You’re going through his hair from his scalp to his neck. Your tongue is hot on his skin, in his mouth. You taste like cinnamon and whipped cream. You’re pressing your chest against his and your heartbeats are becoming one.

His heartbeat.

Your heartbeat.

It’s sinking him. His heart is on the marked paper before him. It’s in red and graphite, smudged and darkened.

He’s falling. The clothes on him are rubbing against his bones. The chair under him is slipping from his grasp but he thinks you’ll catch him.

GymRat!Miguel who gasps for air as his back hits the cold metal of his desk chair.

Winston’s cackle refocuses his train of thought and he breathes in deep as he tries not to let you drown his thoughts again.

GymRat!Miguel who joins Winston on the floor to finish off the variety bag of takis.

Lyla shifts to a better position and Winston clutches his purple bag for dear life. Miguel laughs until he cries.

GymRat!Miguel who ends up on Gabriel’s fluffy rug, rubbing his hands over the fur like it’s a cat. Winston is bopping his head in the corner, music making him worry less about whether or not he’s being watched.

“Why is he so soft? What did you put on him?” Miguel asks.

Gabriel snickers as he watches him, “My feet.”

Miguel makes a face like a disgruntled cat.

“That’s fucking weird. Why would you ever do that? Is that why he smells lie that?”

“No, that’s your breath.”

Miguel gasps and covers his mouth, blowing straight through his fingers. He waits for a minute, then sniffs the air.

“You’re such a liar. It smells like apples. You need to be nicer to your rug, Gabri.”

A snap from above makes Miguel pose at the very last second. He thinks he’s posing at least. His smile is big but his eyes are closing every time the camera clicks and his peace sign is hidden somewhere in the fuzz of the rug.

“Say ‘party gal!’” Gabriel sang.

“I’m not at a party, nor am I a girl, so…no?” Miguel says with squinted eyes. “Why are you taking pictures of me?”

“Because you’re just so adorable that I have to share with your girlfriend.”

Miguel stops rubbing the rug and sits up, “Is she here? Where is she?”

Gabriel pushes him away with his foot.

“Chill out, Mig. I’m just sending her a video.”

“But,” Miguel stiffens. “It’s too dark in here. How is she supposed to see me?”

Gabriel looks at the several ambient lights his room is sporting then back to Miguel, “She can see it.”

“Was my shirt off in it? She likes it when my shirt is off.”

“I’m not filming your striptease, you hornball.”

“But Gabri-“

“No!”

GymRat!Miguel who snowballs his way through telling Gabriel his plans for when he visits New York for the next twenty minutes.

“And then,” he pauses and giggles like he’s holding the world’s greatest secret. “We go to the bodega. Ham and cheese. Orange drink. You know the one.”

Gabriel joins in his endless bubble of laughter, “Who taught you that?”

Miguel spaces out his giggles just enough to let your name fall through.

“Do you think she still loves me, Gabri? Because sometimes I get scared that she doesn’t.”

His brother sighed, head upside down as it hung off of his bed, “Yeah, I think so. It’s your first big fight, but what is love if not war?”

There’s a silence in the room.

Winston is giving a silent performance in the corner of the room now, his audience being Gabriel’s closet door of scarves and belts.

“War is what keeps humans apart,” Miguel mumbles.

“Uh oh,” Gabriel turns to look at him. “Don’t start this.”

“Statistically speaking, all first marriages have a 50% chance of surviving.”

“You just made that up.”

“No,” Miguel closes his eyes, hoping that would stop his million and one thoughts. “She could find another guy and last longer with him. It’s science. Proven.”

“You’re not even married.”

Miguel opens one eye and checks his empty left hand, “Holy shit you’re right.”

He starts to pat down his clothes, cotton pulling against his fingers.

“Where did it go? I just had it.”

Gabriel thought for a second.

“The Funyuns you just ate?”

Miguel starts to flip things over, papers and chip bags going everywhere.

He finds the bright yellow bag, opening it up and finding nothing. He turns it over and shakes it much to Gabriel’s annoyance who snatches it from his hands.

Miguel is about to cry until Gabriel throws another bag into his hands.

“Let’s switch topics,” Gabriel grumbles. “I feel like I’m watching a big ass baby.”

Miguel opens the bag and starts crunching.

“I think stars is such a good theme for the nursery. And penguins.”

“I’m turning on Spongebob.”

GymRat!Miguel who is out of his mind watching Squidward run around a blank screen.

The colors were there and now they’re not.

It does a number on him.

GymRat!Miguel who sits staring at Gabriel’s door. Watching. Waiting.

He said that you were coming around eventually.

It was sure taking you a long time to open the door.

GymRat!Miguel who is disappointed when Tempest and her pink-tipped locs bang the door open instead of you.

His slow turn and look of disappointment towards Gabriel is comical.

GymRat!Miguel who is guided back to his room by a more relaxed Tempest who asks Gabriel to distract Conchata.

“Did she say something?” Gabriel asks.

“No, but we need to act normal. She asked me some shit about some seasoning I used and I think dozed off mid-explanation. Can’t remember.”

GymRat!Miguel who finds a picture of you under his pillow right before he goes to sleep.

It’s a part of the polaroids you gave him last Christmas with your tank and panties.

He presses his lips against the film, eyes closing as he groans against it. The action repeats, his mind putting him in front of you.

A pain hits his hip, ache in his bones matching his heartbeat.

He looks down to a gray, metal hand covering him and screams.

Two of his friends jerk up from across the room while Winston throws a pillow at him.

“Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to sleep.”

Tempest squints as she removes her eye mask, “Why did you throw your arm at him?”

“He was making weird sounds,” Winston replies as if the answer was obvious.

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up to Tempest shaking him for dear life.

His eyelids are heavy and the sun peaking through the windows are bright.

His arm covers his eyes as he tries to block it, feelings of his muscles slowly coming back to him.

“C’mon, buddy. You feeling ok?”

Miguel only yawns and nods into the pillow.

“Need to pee? Feeling sick? I got some water right here.”

Miguel slowly sits up with his eyes closed, hair sticking up every which way. Tempest opens his hand and places a glass of water there, helping him guide it to his lips. One taste of the liquid and he’s gulping it down like he’s never drank before.

“What time is it?” he asks, throat dry.

“Noon,” Tempest takes the glass away. “You guys were sleeping like babies. Very cute.”

Memories of last night slowly come back.

He’s pretty sure he texted you a string of random things, but he doesn’t even know if it went through.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Come to the kitchen and eat some food.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes his friends promise to text him when they make it home.

Sure, they’ll probably be on the call tonight playing some game or watching obscure compilations, but he was nothing if not a worrier.

“And don’t forget to-“

“We know, dad,” they say in unison.

GymRat!Miguel who spends Thanksgiving near his grandma.

His mom is giving him sideways looks all day and he feels that something is coming.

GymRat!Miguel who watches his brother place his cousins in formation for a video for the nth time.

“It’s swing, back a-round, grab your pants, thumb up with ‘I’m cool’. Feet out and in at the same time then CIRCLE your arms really high. What is so hard to understand about that guys?”

He runs to his phone on the tripod.

“From the top!”

GymRat!Miguel who hides with his grandma in her bedroom as his mom starts to bark orders. She was doing a lot for someone who didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving.

The two of them are watching some random sitcom under a giant quilt sharing coconut cookies that she snuck from the kitchen.

“¿Abuela?”

“¿Si nieto?”

“¿Alguna vez has experimentado un desamor?”

His grandmother looks up, chewing as she thought.

“Yes, but only for a short while. I didn’t really have the time to sit with my feelings.”

“But, what if you did? Does it feel as terrible as it sounds?”

“Sometimes. But we’re human. If you’ve put in effort to love, that means you can put effort into yourself to heal and grow.”

Her arms wrap around him and squeeze, kissing his cheek like he was still the chunky baby she met decades ago.

“Now, relax and watch these two teachers avoid love. Maybe you’ll learn something.”

GymRat!Miguel who is leaning on his grandma, cheek pressed against her chest, when Gabriel comes in to plop on the bed.

“Move over,” he whines to Miguel as he tries to push him away to be in the middle.

“I don’t wanna sit next to you. You’re disturbing my peace.”

“And you’re hogging Abuela.”

“Go to her other side!”

“But this side is already warm!”

“My daughter has raised two giant babies,” their grandmother laughs as she moves the blanket to let Gabriel into her other side. “What am I going to do with you two?”

GymRat!Miguel who was nearly asleep when George comes to get them to eat.

It’s deep in the evening and the crickets are loud outside of the window.

He and Gabriel pout, the darkness of the room and the smell of their grandmother’s perfume making them lethargic.

“Your cousins are going to eat up all of the empanadas if you don’t hurry up.”

Miguel perks up and stumbles out of the bed, foggy mind registering his willingness to stuff his face with doughy goodness.

“Like a moth to a flame,” Gabriel says as he helps his grandmother up.

GymRat!Miguel who is on his third or fourth plate, not that he’s really counting, when his mom does what she always does every holiday: annoy him.

“Mijo, have you checked on Xina today? I saw Tempest walk her out the other day. Was she doing alright?”

Miguel glances around the table, mouth full of turkey as he sees his family perk up.

“No, I haven’t,” he answers slowly. “I’ll see her next week. Probably.”

Conchata brings a cup to her mouth while giving him a miffed look.

“And you’re not worried about her? What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me,” Miguel replies calmly. His relatives are staring at him like he’s grown two heads.

“Did you two fight?” one of his aunts asks.

Miguel didn’t understand how this was anyone else’s business, but from the looks of it, it seems that his mother has already told it.

“Can I just finish my food, please?”

His mother thumps her cup against the table with more force than necessary.

“You’re never going to find a suitable woman if you keep acting like this. I know you hurt her somehow and you need to fix it.”

“Ma,” Gabriel interrupts with a hushed tone. “Right here? At the table? Seriously?”

She ignores him and stares at Miguel, as it’s supposed to urge him to obey her. His appetite is long gone.

“I have a suitable woman-“

“Mijo, no. You have stars in your eyes. You’re young, so I know you can’t see it yet, but it’s almost time for you to start planning properly for the future. I can only let your playing go on for so much longer.”

Miguel stares at her, eyes not blinking once. Gabriel anxiously looks back and forth between them.

“Who is up for Abuela’s famous cake? Mm mm mm, I know I am!” he tries, only getting a small portion of the table to move.

Miguel gets up to follow them, plate in his hand heavy and half-eaten.

They’re back at square one.

He’s not sure how many more times he can restart.

GymRat!Miguel who texts you before he knocks out.

He stares at the blinking line, thinking of all that he wants to say, but not really knowing how to put it.

“Happy Thanksgiving mi luz”

“I miss you more than ever today”

“I miss you every day”

He stops himself and turns his phone off.

GymRat!Miguel who does a light jog Friday morning.

He’s been having far too many days of wallowing and feasting.

The November air wakes him up completely.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks he still has THC in his bloodstream when your name pops up on his screen as he’s checking his miles.

He opens it too fast, heart racing faster than what any exercise could do to him.

It’s a link to your calendar, blocks of blues and pinks covering the screen. He sees that your last final is next Thursday, and his plan is already in motion.

He hearts your text and stops himself from spamming you with emojis and pictures.

He’s ready to see you.

GymRat!Miguel who has never been more happy for his coding professor being a recluse and making their final submission online.

He knew for a fact Xina was definitely still processing everything. Quite frankly, he didn’t want to see her unless she was ready to apologize to you.

He tried not to stew on it, his mom’s insinuation putting a bad taste in his mouth.

He had finals to focus on and a girlfriend to win back so he pushed thoughts of crumbling friendship to the back of his mind.

GymRat!Miguel who sits in the hallway of the art building. It was becoming a familiar sight for someone who couldn’t draw a stick figure to save his life.

He waits for the studio door to open, leg bouncing involuntarily. He wasn’t sure when it would end, so he got there about thirty minutes after it started.

Maybe that was a bad idea, simply because he feels like he’s about to sweat out of the stupid button down and sweater he chose to wear. The thick knitting was starting to suffocate him.

Pulling at the chain around his neck, he wonders if he can appeal to you like he did around this time last year.

The door opens in the middle of his tenth time rehearsing what he was going to say. A few students walk out, arms full of canvases as they chat about whatever.

Miguel stands, big bouquet in his hands and heartbeat in his ear. The students notice him and shuffle out of his way as he heads towards the studio entrance.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you talking with a classmate.

You’re both bent over some, engrossed in conversation.

Miguel sees you laugh before you stand up straight. The guy next to you looks familiar.

He rises too, and his build and height become all of the focus. His hand lands on the middle on your back and slowly begins to fall down.

Miguel is building the formation of your name at the back of his tongue, anger climbing before he can really think about it.

You grab the guy’s arm and yank it off, a smack on his shoulder to follow.

Miguel stops himself with an ugly sound, alerting you both to turn and look at him.

GymRat!Miguel who hides the bouquet behind his back, not wanting you to see it yet. Not when your friend was making him shoot daggers with his eyes.

You walk over to him eyes curious, and Miguel thinks that there was no way in this lifetime, no way in this timeline, that you weren’t made for him.

“Hi,” Miguel starts.

“Hi,” you repeat back.

“We’re matching.”

Miguel couldn’t help but to sound giddy about it. He was more than ecstatic about it. You both looked like a couple, therefore you are a couple.

You purse your lips and nod, “That we are. Did you spy on me?”

Miguel copies you and shakes his head.

“You look different.”

“Ah. I uh, I ate good.”

You pat his stomach, fingers tentative and soft, “I see.”

Miguel wants to say something back but your eyes are scanning him with a small light similar to your anniversary night.

He breathes in and puffs his chest up a bit, like a bird trying to show off his pretty feathers to win over his lady. The corners of your lips twitch, holding back your smile.

That alone brightens Miguel up.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to deflate when your classmate slash friend slash him-imposter makes his way into an A and B conversation.

“I haven’t seen you around campus before,” he puts his right hand out, “I’m Royce.”

Miguel’s eyes flit to you and you look up to the ceiling avoiding his look with your hands behind your back. He brings his left hand out, still poorly hiding his gift for you, twisting his wrist to shake Royce’s hand.

“Miguel.”

“Strong grip you’ve got there, Miguel,” Royce smiled, lip piercing shining. The chains attached to his pants clinked together as be let go.

“Just happy to meet new people.”

Royce pulls the sleeves of his sweater up and grins, like he knew something Miguel didn’t. The fullness of his tattoos contrasted his skin.

“Likewise. What else do you have there?” he tilts his head.

You push him in his side, Royce’s laugh echoing of the studio ceiling, “Go away. You’re so irritating.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. I’m guessing this means our late night session is rain checked?” he asks as your eyebrows raise.

He barely dodges as you pick up a ruler and swing at him, laughing as your professor tiredly asks you both to chill out.

Royce calms down, grabs his things, and hugs you goodbye, black hair brushing against your head.

“See you later. Bye, Miguel,” he sings, hand waving.

Miguel makes a line with his lips as he watches him leave.

“Interesting guy.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty fun,” you say, watching Miguel’s lips. “You ok?”

His face shifted, “I should be asking you that after everything.”

“Hm,” your eyes casted down. “Well, you’re here, so I think that counts for something.”

GymRat!Miguel who presents the bouquet to you, nervous of your reaction.

“It’s a small start, but I, I hope that we can still be together. I talked to Xina like you asked and I want to go somewhere with you to really say everything. All truths on the table.”

Your mouth wobbles as your eyes light up from the fairy lights woven throughout the green and golden roses.

“I’m sorry it’s not as big as it’s supposed to be.”

The woman he ordered them from was stacked with birthday and anniversary bouquets. He paid more than he should to get his flowers finished faster.

“‘You are my Evangeline’?” you ask, fingers going over the silky petals.

“Sí,” his hands cover yours over the bottom of the bunch. “La luz de mi vida, mi estrella. Mi bella Evangeline.”

You pout, stopping yourself from falling, only to plant your face in his chest, glasses and all.

Miguel wraps his arms around you, confused.

“You make me so weak,” you mumble.

His hands clutch onto your sweater, heart warm.

“I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing.”

You move your head, cheek pressed against his chest, “Of course you don’t. C’mon.”

His sweater is a little damp but he doesn’t mention it.

GymRat!Miguel who wants to skip as he follows you back to your dorm, but your wet oil paint canvases are in his hands. One wrong move, and his pants will be stained with whatever color landed on him.

He watches as you cradle your flowers to your chest, glancing down whenever you were waiting to cross the street.

“Do you like them?”

“Yes. They’re beautiful.”

He could do a backflip.

GymRat!Miguel who takes his shoes off by your door.

Your dorm smells like oranges and cherries, something so different than the pinecones and brown leaves outside.

“Where do want me to put these?” he asks, holding the sides of your paintings with all of his focus.

You turn and laugh at his stiff stance. His arms were stretched out to a slanted T and his feet were placed together.

“Just sit them up against the wall. They won’t bite you,” you say.

“Ok,” he says and awkwardly puts them down. He pauses his hands in front of them afterwards in case they fall.

You go to sit at your desk, placing the flowers down.

“Is Jess here?” you hear Miguel ask.

“No, she’s gone for winter break already.”

You survey your desk, looking for anything else to focus on. You brought him here, you asked for him to prove himself, yet it’s barely been two weeks since you told him that. You feel silly for it.

Still, when you don’t hear or feel him for a while, you call his name.

“Miguel?”

“What’s this?” he asks.

Spinning around, you see he’s by the end of your bed, on the floor rummaging through a box.

“You packed my stuff up?” he holds up a hoodie that you only let him wear shortly before it finds its way back into your closet. His eyebrows turn, limbs heavy as he pulls out gift after jacket after picture. So many things that marked his time together with you.

“Looking at everything was too much for me. I did it the night we fought. It helped me to focus and not,” you threw your hands up, “simmer on my boyfriend sleeping with someone who is practically the opposite of me.”

Miguel pushes the box to the side and crawls towards you. It was an odd sight to see him inching steadily across your big rug. He stops and sits in front of you, face upset.

“I really wish you would listen to me. I wish you would believe me.”

“I’m trying-“

“No, baby,” Miguel says, pulling your chair towards him. You were too far away. “You’re not. You’re blocking me out.”

You blink, fingers picking at your nails.

“Do you remember that time I said I wasn’t going to let you go?” Miguel wraps your legs around his sides and slots his head on your thigh. “I was serious about that. You aren’t supposed to let me go either.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I know.”

“So if you know, why did you let me go?”

You took a deep breath.

“Because I was hurting, Miguel. I painted this picture in my head of you two being this perfect, ideal couple because of….jealousy? Insecurity? I don’t know. I would see you two in the library sometimes or standing in line for food together, close and wrapped up in a bubble. I kept telling myself that you both were friends. These are the things that friends do. I would leave before I could give myself time to get stupidly upset. But when we were all hanging out together, you kept defending everything she was doing.”

Miguel thinks back to the comments and snide remarks he let slide and wants to shake that version of himself out of delusion.

“Then, there were the messages that weren’t going through, the calls that were getting dropped. Sometimes, I saw Xina holding you,” your voice faltered. “And she’d wear things I could find in my closet and I thought I was being punked. So, when I saw you on your birthday and took a leap of faith, I was destroyed when she was texting your phone.”

You couldn’t take it. You thought he lied to your face for months.

Miguel closed his eyes, trying to form what he wanted to say.

He’s thinking about how stupid he was to not see your pain. The signs were all there, or at least, the times when he should have stepped in were.

That aside, he was upset. Upset at the situation, upset that his relationship has been torn by someone who barely acknowledged him for a year, upset at you.

He didn’t want another girl, he didn’t need another girl, and even if by some sick and terrible decision, he decided to part ways with you, he would never choose Xina.

She couldn’t love him the way you do and what she did to him showed that.

She couldn’t make him feel the way you do. You left him with butterflies, you made him excited. You brought him so much joy.

She couldn’t care for him the way that you did. She would rather hang him out to dry to make herself look good before she thought about how he felt about something.

She couldn’t even confess to him without hurting him, without trying to shift her chances of being with him. It sucks that her life was changing so rapidly against her will, but that didn’t mean she had to create a whirlwind for him to suffer through, too.

It’s so irritating how she came in and swept up his time, his life, and your confidence, but it’s more frustrating for you to have to even wonder if she could replace you.

Miguel’s mind is going a thousand miles per minute, head starting to hurt with how aggravated he was.

“Don’t cry,” you say reaching up to his face, sniffling. “Please, don’t cry.”

He didn’t even notice he was. He realizes then that his thoughts were made aloud.

“’M sorry,” he says, face scrunching up. He leans into your hand, eyes closed as the tears fall. “I’m sorry for everything. But I’m angry that you keep thinking that you’re not worth my love. You’re worth it. You’re worth so much more than what I can give you. But I feel so lucky that you’re giving me the chance to be a part of your life, so I want you to love yourself, too.”

You nod once, twice, before your palms cover your face and you’re sobbing. Miguel pulls you down to his lap, holding you tight. He hated that you were fighting these thoughts alone, but now that he’s aware of everything he’ll try his best again to give you the love you needed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair like a mantra.

Through your sorrow, your relief, you everything, you echo his words, “I’m sorry, too. I should have trusted you more.”

“True,” Miguel says and you laugh in the midst of your aches. “But I still love you.”

“I love you, too. I never stopped.”

He squeezes you tighter, heart feather light.

GymRat!Miguel who eventually gets you comfortable, the two of you settling down on the giant plush bean bag sofa that you’ve stuffed under your dorm bed.

He was prepared to wine and dine you, but you insisted on videos and some warm, fulfilling fast food. The true college dream.

You laid on his chest, watching as the man on screen yelled as his character opened the door to a bathroom and a stranger was fixing the sink. Miguel tensed under you, hands gripping the waist of your lounging pants.

It was making up for the Halloween you two spent apart.

“Too scary?” you move your head to look at his face.

His mouth was twisted up, heart beating, “No…”

“Then, why are you holding me so tight?”

“A boyfriend can’t hold his girlfriend?”

You grinned.

You didn’t know how much you missed him calling you his girlfriend until he was less than a centimeter away from you.

A scream followed by a line of curses comes from your laptop speakers, Miguel gasping and squinting at the screen, eyes almost squeezing shut.

“You know, we don’t have to watch this,” you try your best to turn your body so that you were fully on top of him. “We can watch something else.”

Miguel focused on your face, eyes fighting to not look at your lips, “Like what?”

“We can watch a cooking competition. I know you have some documentaries and video essays saved up. We could watch those.”

Miguel thinks he could really be a lip reader. Your lips were moving pretty fast, but he thinks he got most of it.

“You want to use the kitchen this late? It might be closed.”

You slide your hand up his chest, comforting through the thin shirt. Your lips move again and Miguel blinks slowly trying to keep up.

A touch on his jaw has him look up.

“Did you hear me?”

Miguel moves his head in a circle, answer going from yes to no.

“What are you thinking right now?”

He feels you out, hands slowly going down your back and circling the area where your thighs curve out into your ass.

“How much I need to kiss you.”

“Oh really?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Then maybe, you should put those words into action.”

That was all he needed to pull you up, mouth going to yours like a magnet. You make a startled noise as he opens his mouth to slide his lip from your jaw to the bottom of your lip.

You open your mouth with his, thumbs rubbing against his sideburns as he hums against your tongue. The sound of the push and pull of your lips fills the small space under your bed. The tale of the girl and her winter vacation long forgotten in the background.

His hands go under your waistband, palms bringing extra warmth as he squeezes over your underwear.

“I missed this,” he sighs, mouth and hands working together to make you melt into him. He was starting to grind you against him, humming low in his throat.

“Kissing me or something else?” you open your eyes a little, watching his eyelashes against his cheek.

He pushes up against you, bean bag shifting down, “Everything.”

“Cheeky.”

“More like charmed.”

The two of you were glued to each other long enough for the hour long video to end, only the glow of your fairy lights and lamps lighting your room.

Both of your shirts were pulled up, your chest smooshed against his. Miguel had one hand around your waist, massaging your side, and another pulling your underwear between your lips so that you had something extra to feel as you grind against his groin.

“Bebecita,” Miguel says after you let his tongue from your lips. He pecks you in between his words, hungry. “Let’s move this to the bed.”

He kisses down your jaw, making no effort to get up.

“I don’t have any condoms and unless you’re willing to drive out to get some-”

Miguel removes a hand to reach into his pocket.

“Did you just have that on you?” you ask looking at the pack of condoms in his hand.

“No. I got them when I went to go get clothes.”

You tut, “So you just thought we were going have sex? You’re not even supposed to be in here right now.”

He slides his fingers down between your legs, pressing on your lips over cotton, “Of course not, bebe. I’m not an animal.”

He rubs and sucks a kiss into your neck. You’re so lost in him that you didn’t even realize that you were beginning to push back against his fingers. The moan you let out brings you back to reality.

Seeing Miguel’s smug face made you hide yours in his chest.

“Just try not to be too loud. I don’t know if my neighbor is still here or not,” you muffled into his skin.

GymRat!Miguel who really didn’t give a fuck about the neighbors.

He thinks he wants them to hear. It’s been too long since he had you, his decency was thrown out of the window.

Right now, he was head first, indulging, sucking at the entrance of your heat. You were on your knees, ass in his face, and feet hanging off the bed. You were already so wet from earlier, but now he has you dripping down his face onto the floor, moaning into your pillow.

He didn’t hear you over himself as he gripped your skin to spread you over his tongue. Your thighs were shaking like a leaf, feet occasionally kicking as Miguel found his pocket to make you suck him in.

You sounded off into the silk case below you, trying not to make yourself louder than the music you put on.

Miguel was satisfied that you came on his tongue, but didn’t like you censoring yourself not one bit.

“I want to try something new,” he states into your skin, sucking your clit through the aftershocks.

You only give him a shaky thumbs up, mind still finding its other pieces.

GymRat!Miguel who has you flat against your stomach along the bed. There really was barely any room to do this, but he was going to make it work.

You had a long mirror in your room that wasn’t attached to the wall, so beforehand, he brought it over to lean against the desk and turn it towards the top of your bed. He saw the confusion in your face through the glass, but he only smiled and went right back to you.

Now, he was holding one cheek over as he slid in slowly. From the mirror, he could see your face scrunch up. He shifted his knees, watching.

“¿Estás bien?” he asks. “Want me to slow down? Pull out?”

“No,” you keen, constricting around him. He sucked air in through his teeth, feeling you suck him in. “I just haven’t felt you in a while.”

He leans to kiss up your back, taking fat in between his lips to mark it as his. He fights the urge to just bite and stay there for a while.

“Whose fault is that, pretty?” he teases, dragging his lips to the back of neck.

You look to your left and pout at him through the mirror. He looks back, eyes scanning your naked upper half.

You arch your back and tighten around him. He thinks you’re a menace.

“Yours,” you tease back.

“Yeah?” his left hand grabs your waist, thumb pressing into the small of your back. He slides out a bit, hips elevated. “Let me fix that, then.”

His hips dip back into you, smack of his skin against yours. The bed creaks and Miguel watches your eyelids fall.

“Do you want a fast solution?” Miguel says right in your ear. “Or should we do some deeper research?”

He snaps his hips again, leaning down and pressing his weight onto you. Your hands curl up against the mattress, mouth open but only letting out gasps and breaths. Miguel nearly pulls all the way out, then swerves back in, pushing your voice out of you.

“It sounds like you want to pull from some scholarly articles,” Miguel whispers. He’s barely picking up a sweat while you’re hot everywhere. “It’s unclear.”

The springs of the mattress sing, metal and wood bed frame keeping a steady tempo against the wall.

You can’t even focus enough to tell him to shut up, the position you were in knocking the wind out of you. You start to hide your face in your pillow again, overwhelmed.

Miguel releases an offended sound.

“Nuh uh,” his right hand wraps in front of your neck. He pulls head up and turns it towards the mirror. “Look how pretty you look. Don’t hide.”

Your boyfriend might be a little nuts.

Your eyes can’t even focus but he’s holding your head steady and nibbling your earlobe as he waits. Your glasses are crooked and fogging up, you can’t even really see.

His name tries to fall from your mouth, but that “M” sound comes out broken and loud. He’s too busy being enchanted by how good you look.

“Mi preciosa princesita,” his hips stutter as you clench in response. “So gorgeous.”

He’s hitting your spot over and over again. You’re losing track of time.

“Don’t you think so too, baby?” Miguel huffs.

“Y-yes, Miggy, please.”

“Are you close?”

You nod, watching his eyes get darker.

“Ok, bebé. I still have some follow-up questions, though. Gonna answer them?”

A yell comes out as your answer, Miguel stroking faster.

He kisses your cheek and takes your glasses off. They were slipping and he was scared you were going to break them.

“Question one, do you want to do something for winter break?”

He opens your legs a bit, leaning and wrapping his hand under your body. His fingers find your clit and rub nice and slow. Overstimulated, you scream into the pillow. Miguel kisses your shoulder as he hums.

“I think that’s a yes,” Miguel says. Your back arches as you try to move your hips to match his pace. “Question two, what do you want for Christmas? It’s getting late, but I’ll find it. I swear.”

“Fuck, Miguel,” you say as his hands move to your breasts. He can’t do much, but there’s still something so good about him all over you.

“You want this again? We can arrange that.”

He was close and you could hear it in the way his voice wavered.

“Last question,” he rose off of you, hands pushing against your back. Your body couldn’t move as he slapped his pelvis against your ass. The recoil sounded off in the room and the entire bed jumped with his movement.

“Are you still mad at me?”

Your back arched as you felt him breach deep enough to make you go crazy. He was mumbling something but your thoughts were swimming with his dick inside of you about to introduce another orgasm.

“Say it back, baby. You gotta say it back,” Miguel’s voice sounds out.

There might be a pool of drool growing under your face. Your boyfriend didn’t care, though. He would still want you to say that declaration through any obstruction.

“I love you, Miguel. Te amo tanto.”

His hips quicken, bed against the wall like a drumline.

When he cums, his body tightens and releases, weight letting go as he covers you. He’s breathing hard, “te amo,” his proverb to you.

You blink at the mirror, vision blurry, but the comforted and satisfied expression of Miguel still recognizable.

You could stay like this, breaths slowly becoming tighter until you fall asleep in his arms.

The bed gives a loud snap, scaring Miguel into nearly falling off of it with you on top.

It’s leaning a little more to the back left than it should.

“Did you just break my fucking bed?”

He panics, “I-it was a joint effort!”

“Miguel.”

GymRat!Miguel who thanks whatever entity it is out there afterwards that it was just a screw that came out and not the bed actually completely splitting.

“This is why the beds are tiny in the first place,” you say from the bean bag, watching him screw it back together.

“I would have covered the costs if it was actually broken. We should look into sturdy bed frames for the future, though.”

“Oh?”

Miguel pauses, “Not that I was thinking about that!”

“You already have a list, don’t you.”

You watch his hands stutter as he puts your screwdriver back in your bin.

GymRat!Miguel who suggests you lay on top of him in the bed.

The two of you were freshly showered and ready to close your eyes any minute now.

“We should take breaks more often. I feel like jelly,” you say with a low voice, drawing circles over his chest.

He grabs your wrist, voice serious in the dark, “Don’t joke like that.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right. You made up for the last time you didn’t make me come.“

“Baby.”

You giggled into him as he pinched your sides.

“What about you and Royce? Your friend whose name starts with an R and ends with an E.”

“It’s not my fault rose and Royce are similar!”

“But you knew what you were doing. How cruel,” he pouts.

You pat his cheek!

“Well, you don’t have to worry because he has a boyfriend.”

“Oh! So, he’s gay.”

“Bi. Open relationship.”

“Oh,” Miguel replied, less happy.

“I kind of just want one lover, though.”

“Oh,” Miguel says again, more happy. “What kind of lover?”

You stay quiet for so long, Miguel thinks you’ve gone to sleep.

There’s a lot of things that you love about him. His kindness, his heart, his determination, his wit. Tonight, though, he truly took your breath away.

And you realize, he’s always done that.

“The kind that loves me the way that you do.”

Miguel’s chest rises and falls like a wave that gets weaker as it hits the shore.

“Me too, mi luz. Me too.”

divider by: fanguro + adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: Our family is has been brought back together!! Also, if you get which horror game they were watching, you get a gold star.

Please very mindful, very cutesy, very demure in the comments. Don’t ask about the next part unless you have something nice/constructive to say to go with it. And no, this is not the last time Xina will be in this story. But it’ll get better!

The taglist is full, so if you would like to be informed of future updates, check my blog occasionally (💀) or subscribe to the story on AO3!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

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[samott]

Ez volt mar itt, olvastam, de nem talalom. Megkerestem a redditen, link lesz a vegen, de legyen meg itt egyben:

My missing husband came home, but I just know it isn't him

My husband went missing six months ago. Just... went out to work one day and never came home. It was a horrible shock to the whole neighbourhood, because things like that just didn't happen in our little slice of white-picket-fence suburbia. The police launched an investigation, and the neighbourhood watch sent out search parties, but no one ever found any evidence to indicate what had happened to him. Our families were devastated. Recently, the missing posters have been taken down or papered over. The updates from the police became less frequent and dwindled away. I accepted that, hard as it was to admit, my Rick wasn't coming back.

Until he did.

A week ago, I was in the back garden watering my petunias when I heard the garden gate creak open. I jerked my head in that direction and- there he was. Exactly the same as he was the day he disappeared. Same windswept blond hair and bright blue eyes, same curl to his pink lips. I was in shock. Our families had mourned for him, and yet there he was, standing in our garden like he had just popped out for milk or something. When I asked where he had been, he said he didn't know. He couldn’t remember anything about the last six months.

All our family and friends are beside themselves with joy. They almost can't believe it. But that's just the thing: I don't believe it.

Look, I understand how crazy this all sounds, I do. Our families would never believe me, and I can’t go to the police unless I want to end up in a straightjacket. But I just know that the man sleeping next to me isn't my husband. I don't know what to do. I know I should be happy, but I'm not. I'm terrified. I don’t know much about anything supernatural or paranormal, I don't even like watching horror movies. But something about this whole situation makes my skin crawl.

Just let me explain why I'm so sure. Once I've done that, hopefully one of you will believe me, and you'll be able to tell me what to do.

The morning after "Rick" came home, I made him a cup of tea. When I handed it to him, he gave me the brightest smile. Then he took a sugar cube from the dish on the table and dropped it into the cup. Our house was in chaos with his return, and I was still in shock, so I didn't think much of it at the time, but its been replaying in my mind ever since. I know it doesn't sound very significant, but my husband never put sugar in his tea. He was always adamant that it ruined the taste, and he'd get so frustrated if I ever put sugar in his cup by accident. And yet, this man had sugar.

Then it was the golf. A few days ago, when he was out visiting his mom, I recorded a golf tournament that was showing on the TV. It was one of Rick's favourite golfers that was competing, and he never missed it. Once, he even skipped out on an anniversary dinner just to watch a championship. Only, when he came home from his parents' and I told him what I'd done, he just seemed... unbothered? Like, he said thanks and everything, and then he asked if I wanted to get dinner. He didn't even watch it, and that’s just so out of character for him.

Then one night I woke up around 2 a.m. to see Rick's face inches from mine just... looking at me with these blank eyes. I kinda gave this nervous laugh and asked "Baby, what are you doing?" And he didn't answer. For like a solid thirty seconds. He just stared, almost like he was looking right through me. Then he suddenly smiled and said, "Sorry, honey. Sometimes I just can’t believe this is real". Then he just rolled over and went to sleep. I didn’t get much sleep after that, myself.

Yesterday, about a week after he came home, the neighbourhood threw a street party to celebrate his return. Everyone from our street and the streets on either side turned up to see him and tell him how happy they are that he's alright. When he wasn't standing with his arm around my waist, he was milling around chatting amicably to each and every one of our neighbours, even the little kids. Jackson, our next-door neighbour Sally's toddler, wanted to play peek-a-boo, and Rick happily played along with a smile on his face. Now, my husband never did that. Rick always said he didn't like kids - that's why we never had any - and so he never wanted to play with any of the neighbourhood children. Especially not Jackson: Rick all but avoided him. Before he disappeared, I had started to suspect it was so I wouldn't see them together and notice the subtle but unmistakable similarities.

The final nail in the coffin, proverbially speaking, was Sally. Just this morning, she came knocking on our door. Her excuse was the tray of brownies she carried, but I think she just wanted to push her way into our morning so that she could see for herself what the situation was. After she left, I called her a nosy busybody. Rick laughed, kissed my head, and agreed with me. That was when I knew for sure that it couldn't really be him. Rick always used to get so mad whenever I insulted Sally, like I didn't have any right to hate her even though she'd been fucking my husband for years. But today there was none of that. He didn’t even try to defend her.

I know what you must be thinking. If he was in an accident or something, he might’ve had some kind of traumatic brain injury that caused him to forget some things about his life, maybe even change his personality. And that's a valid, reasonable explanation. I have no doubt it's what the police would tell me if I reported all this.

But you know why I'm dead certain that man isn't my husband? He doesn't have a scar. If he was really Rick, he'd have a scar on the side of his forehead shaped like the golf club I hit him with. But there's nothing. Not a mark. Honestly, I'm this close to going out tonight and digging up my petunias just to make sure he's still under there.

I don't know what I'm sharing a bed with, but I know it's not my husband. So what the hell am I going to do?

innet

[meloms-ao3]

Prompt 29 -> Hogwarts Library @wolfstarmicrofic 409 Words ; very cheesy and sugar-y

Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since the kiss. Though Sirius tried to gaslight himself into believing it didn’t count as one. 

“Our lips only touched. They didn’t move or anything like that.“ He berated James who nodded tiredly.

“I know, I know. That’s what you said the last quadrillion times.“ James yawned and put his head on the book. “Wanna just go back to the common room? I don’t think I can read anymore. My eyes will explode.“

“You go ahead, I can’t leave yet. Remus is usually in there this time around.“ Sirius turned in his seat and looked at the entry, no one was there and he sighed in relief, yet he kept looking at it.

James just shook his head and got up, gathering his books. “You have to confront him at some point. Also, you two kissing when you were both super excited about us winning the Quidditch match doesn’t have to mean anything. You were both in your happy feelings and emotions took over... or something like that.“ 

Sirius’s head snapped back, and he looked James in the eyes. “You think it didn’t mean anything to him?“ James, being blissfully ignorant about the sad tone in his friend’s voice due to tiredness, just nodded. 

“Yep. Now goodnight, I’ll see you later.“ He waved goodbye and Sirius’s gaze shifted to the book on the table. 

“I guess… why would it mean something to him? Bet he doesn’t even remember it.“ He bit his lip and rubbed his eyes, not wanting to cry in the library. 

“I do remember it.“ 

A hand on his head, and Sirius shook. “Wha- Remus!“

There stood Remus, a soft smile on his lips complimented by his slightly flushed cheeks.

Sirius clapped his hands on his face: “Merlin, don’t tell me you heard all that.“

Remus snickered and sat down next to him, his hand moving from Sirius’s hair to slowly parting his hands from his face.

“I did, and it meant a lot to me. Both of these things. The kiss and that you got sad when you thought that I didn’t like it.“ 

He revealed Sirius’s blushing face and didn’t hesitate to place a small kiss on his nose. 

Flabbergasted, Sirius just sat there, his mind racing. “So… can we kiss again then?“ 

Remus, still holding onto the other’s hands, just nodded and a split second later he felt Sirius’s lips on his own again, finally. 

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A heart that hurts is a heart that works - Something Rotten sequel.

first part can be read here

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x afab!reader x Dark!Tess Servopoulos

Words count: 3829

Rating: Mature, absolutely NSFW and again, this shit is triggering. Please, read the tags carefully and if you're a minor don’t interact.

Tags/warning: This happens the morning immediately after the events of Something Rotten, pov second person, no use of y/n, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, heavy degradation, angst, smut, DUB CON/NON CON, reader is barely described, she has breasts and vagina, no mention of her skin tone, she doesn’t blush, she has hair but it’s not described, it is mentioned that Joel's clothes are too big for her (pics are just for aesthetic and don’t represent reader), the only thing is that reader's father died of lung cancer (like mine), depressive thoughts, as said in the first part: reader is held prisoner by Joel and Tess, on her leg is carved the word “pet” (Tess did it), use of a knife, groping, a large amount of bites, mention of wounds, mention of bruises, no kindness whatsoever towards reader, Joel and Tess are both EVIL, fingering (Tess receiving), oral (Tess receiving) spitting, nipples sucking and biting (it's not my ff if there is no attention towards nipples OKAY), unprotected p in v (both f receiving, wrap it up IRL), pussy slapping, cum eating, Joel comes on reader’s face, pissing, a little more scissoring, a little bit of chocking, squirting, brief insert of reader's thoughts in italics… I think it’s all 😅 If I notice I've forgotten something important I'll add it right away.

A/N: Title comes from a Placebo song called Bright Lights. It seemed right to continue with them since "Something Rotten" is also one of their songs. Anyway, I leave you the entire playlist that I listened to while I was writing both this and the first part and again thank you very much to those who recommended songs to me ♥️

There is something of my experience and pain in this so please be particularly kind. English is not my first language and I have no beta, I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it, thank you so much to anyone who reads it.

[I started a tag list, if you want to be added let me know, I never tag people because I don't want to impose anything on anyone but if you like it I'm happy too ♥️ ]

Your mind is completely clouded. You open your eyes and for a moment you don’t remember where you are, you rub your eyes, feeling your aching body awaken, the pain of every joint coming back to you. You reach out and press a spot on your stiff neck, a stab of pain shooting up your brain like a gunshot and then sliding down your spine, making you grit your teeth to stifle a moan.

You shut your eyes as images of what happened flash before your eyes, a piercing pain taking over your head.

You don’t know how much time has passed but when you manage to sit up, biting the pain between your lips, you see a bright light coming in through the dirty window, a speck of dust stirring in the beam of light that illuminates the messy bed, the crumpled sheets and the two people lying on it. Tess is on her side, her arms folded, her hands resting on the pillow, near her head. There is always a kind of tension in her, you see it even when she is sleeping, in her huddled body that seems ready to attack and unleash its claws on anyone. She is wearing nothing but panties and Joel’s shirt left open, revealing the outline of her breasts. 

She should disgust you, but instead as soon as you see one of her nipples poking out from under her shirt salive pools into your mouth. You put a hand to your forehead, overwhelmed by yourself, by what you feel and by a shame that creeps up inside you and makes your temples throb.

This is so wrong. Yet you would like to lace your lips on that little button and suck it, if only she would let you do it, if only she would let you lie next to her gently, allowing you to be the good pet she expects you to be.

Shifting your gaze to Joel doesn't help soothe your twisted mind. He’s on the other side, lying on his back, in his boxers, your eyes wander on the defined muscles on his chest, the softness of his belly, and a strip of sunlight hitting his abdomen highlighting hair leading to his groin. 

He seems carved out of a block of marble, skimmed by scars, exuding power and sex, the tips of your fingers graze your swollen lips and you still feel his taste, the weight of his cock on your tongue, his relentless thrusts, his hungry eyes on you. 

They must have fallen asleep, which gave you some respite even if you don’t feel rested at all.

You look at your thigh and it's still there, the pulsing sign that you should leave, just run while you can, sneak out of this place quietly and look for somewhere to hide. But you feel like a mouse in a cage, your body not moving an inch. You’re still untied; it would take nothing to reach the door and close it behind you. But what if they woke up? If they felt the bed lighten with your weight? You know they'd have you back in an instant. 

Your brain, you can't decide whether very stupidly or very wisely, thinks that it is better not to make any risky moves to stay alive. 

Helpless and desperate you lie back on the bed staring at the ceiling, the silence broken only by Joel's soft snoring.

Your arms spread across the bed as you sink into your thoughts and your fingers casually graze the knife abandoned on the sheets. The coldness of the blade sends a chill down your spine.

You have to do something for yourself. At least try. You cannot be so spineless. You move one leg off the bed, your eyes fixed on your captors, seeming not to notice anything so you move the other leg as well, letting yourself slide cautiously along the edge of the bed, finally resting both feet on the floor. You pick up the closest garment you can find on the ground, it's a Joel T-shirt, wide and long enough to cover your butt. You just have to get up, you can do it. Leaning your weight on your legs feeling your knees crack in the effort, you wonder what in your body is not sore. You are on your feet. Joel and Tess are motionless in the same position as before. You walk on the floor resting your toe and then your heel, silent and terrified like a prey trying to evade before falling into the lion's jaws, hoping that the wood will not creak under your gait. You reach for the door. You almost make it. Just rest your hand on the handle and lower it. A moment and you're out of here. As soon as your hand touches the cold metal you hear a voice behind you, “Where do you think you're going?” 

You feel your heart falling out of your chest, freezing where you are, your eyes at the door, your breath getting heavy.

“Turn around”

You do it slowly, praying you don't feel a blow immediately afterward. Joel is standing in front of you. “Please” your voice is a barely audible whisper ”please.”

Joel reaches out, grabs you by the wrist “no fucking way” 

He doesn't add anything more, he takes you back to the bed, forcibly lays you down and lies on top of you. His eyes look at you fiercely, he drops down next to your ear “maybe I was wrong about you, you're not the good pet I thought you were. Let me teach you your priorities straight“ he growls, his voice low, sharp. 

His body weighs down on you, completely overpowering you, his legs blocking yours, his hands resting on the sheets on either side of your face. 

"I give you credit for that. You were brave to think you could sneak away. But also incredibly stupid." His voice vibrates close to your ear, it is eerily calm and controlled, sounding as if it came from the darkest part of him, straight from his gut.

A lump rises from the pit of your stomach to your throat, sickening. "I'm sorry," you stammer, Joel's eyes lighting up with that sinister hue you now know like the back of your hand. 

He retrieves the knife from above the bed and places the blade under the fabric of the T-shirt, cutting through the sleeves and tearing it from the neck to the hem, reducing it to a shred of fabric lying beneath you. You tremble when the icy blade touches your skin.

His boxer-covered erection presses against your thigh, against your wound. 

Again you wonder what substance your mind is now made of because feeling him against you, demanding, claiming your body, makes your pleasure slide down your legs. You can feel it on your skin, a shiver, a wetness, a trickle of you leaving you to become his. You mold under him, relaxing your muscles, ceasing to resist, submitting to his stern eyes nailing you to the bed. 

He takes your hands and intertwines them possessively with his own as his legs push between yours, forcefully spreading them apart.

He crawls on you like a rabid dog, inhaling your scent on your neck, down to your sternum, reaching your breast, licking the skin above your ribcage “You were Robert's, weren't you?” 

His teeth close on one of your nipples, biting it, your back arches pushing against his mouth, demanding more. “This? It's mine now.” he whispers in a rough voice ‘This is mine too.’ he adds, twisting the other nipple, he moves one hand to your mound, grabbing it ”What about this wet pussy? She's mine too. I own you now. Make sure you don’t forget that, you little cock slave”

And you feel it again. The desire coursing down your body, clinging to your nerves, flowing into the middle of your thighs. 

It lingers on you deeply. And you’re pleading at that. Before you sense your own voice saying it, like it doesn’t belong to you, coming out of someone’s else body “Please” you babble “please, more” as he run a single finger through your folds.

Everyone you knew died. Every person you loved is gone, ruined by the spreading epidemic. Except your father, who passed away a few years before the pandemic broke out, obliterated by lung cancer. You still remember his jagged, exhausted breathing getting more and more labored, small and thin, until it died out completely. You still remember the smell of the hospital room, the dimness, your gripped heart, your silent tears. It was something you never wanted to see, the moment when death takes someone.  It stays inside, digs deep into you, rattles in the walls of your brain until one day it subsides and remains a creeping awareness you have to live with. A brick in your pocket that will forever weigh of absence, of pain, of lack.

And when you thought maybe you could make it, one day when the brick seemed lighter, pandemic came and your mother turned into a monster. From a fragile woman, still bent by your father's absence, to a ferocious beast with bloodshot eyes that tried to break your neck.

You had had to tear it down yourself, with your own strength, that thing your mother had turned into. And you couldn't explain it for days, or how you had done it, or what had happened. People were running around terrified, not knowing where to take refuge, not knowing if it would ever end. Until they came and loaded you onto trucks, promising to escort you to a safe area. What you were not told was that there was no solution, for some of you there was not even a place in the QZ. The epidemic took away not only the people you cared about but also your dreams, every hope you had for your future, every plan to become a good teacher, to accompany young minds in creating a better world. There is nothing left to create, only destruction.

You could have offered yourself as a teacher in the Qz but you had decided not to bow to a system that spread only government propaganda, instilling in kids that there was nothing else to believe in but FEDRA. 

And even in the face of desperation the cruelty had not stopped, some soldiers had tried to take you at night, traumatized and without strength, you had been saved only by the good heart of one of your neighbors who had defended you. You had jumped out of the truck, along with him and some other people, looking for an alternative that would never come. They had fallen like skittles, one after another. You were tired of seeing it, the cold hand of death reaching out to everyone around you. 

Your heart still aches horribly, but after all, a heart that hurts is a heart that works. And you're still alive. 

He takes the finger away and shoves it in his mouth, enjoying the taste of you and then he’s close to your ear again grazing you with his beard and graveling “I knew you were a little slut,” Joel's heavy breath warms your skin, driving your being back into your body. “When I'm done with you you'll want nothing more than to be my brainless whore”

You’re bucking your hips against him, mindlessly, while he takes your body with his mouth and hands, furiously licking, biting and groping your flesh, moving impatiently over you on the bed and waking Tess up. She takes a few seconds to focus, abruptly recovered from a deep sleep, but then you hear her dry voice, “oh, are you having fun without me?” 

Joel does not tell her that you tried to escape. which in itself is a miracle for you. He turns to her just a moment, leaving your nipple with a loud pop .

“Come” he tells her, and it's almost sweet. Almost. Tess comes crawling up on the bed like a feline and looks down at you, smiling cruelly. 

“Lie on top of her, make sure this bitch doesn't move” Tess nods, he makes room for her, and she crushes you with all her weight, her scarred back against your tits, as if you were a mat, clinging to your arms as Joel watches the scene smugly "Quite a picture" he growls.

He pulls down Tess's panties, tossing them aside. He does the same with his boxers.  “This is exactly what I want. Two pretty cunts all for me” 

He stoops to observe you both, his eyes roaming your sexes, his thumb touching you first, a creamy river in between your folds, and then Tess. She snorts “will you hurry up?”

“mmm you're not wet enough honey, but we can fix that”

“Honey”, you think he is the only person who can call Tess that. Anyone else would be out of balls in a heartbeat. 

He buries his face in her cunt and you feel Tess stiffen on top of you, her whole body reacting to the first touch of Joel's tongue. You seem to catch a glimpse of submerged fragility behind all that violence and resentment she always displays.

She grips your wrists in a vice as her hips rise toward Joel and a low, deep moan escapes from her throat. 

Joel's fingers run hard and calloused over your folds, collecting what drips from you and spreading it over Tess's pussy, mixing your essences, then returning to lick her. And you can feel her, crumbling on top of you, conceding willingly, every muscle in her asking for more.

Each lapping of Joel's tongue on her vibrates over your body like a wave, Tess's butt sliding over your folds, crawling over your clit, giving you reflex stimulation.

“Mmmm just like that, baby, that’s fucking good” 

She whines so sweetly under his ministration, an undertone so vulnerable and tender in her voice you almost think she turned into another person. And you are in the front row watching this, a silent witness to the other Tess, the one who still has a shred of humanity hidden within her.

It’s unique, you think, how sex with the right person, a person we care about, a person we share a path with, makes us. Defenseless, no mask to wear against the world. Even Tess, perhaps the coldest woman you’ve ever met. 

“Nice and drippy” Joel murmurs, nuzzling at Tess’s cunt “fucking gorgeous” 

He dips his nose in there, moving through her folds up to her clits, brushing the tip over it. “You smell so good, babe, such an nice mess for me to feast on” 

“Fuck” Tess gasps “just fuck me” 

“Yeah baby, I’m going to stretch you both so damn right” 

Tess rolls her eyes in twisted need, impatient like the bossy woman she still is and you whine like the shy mess that you are. 

So different and yet ready for the same cock. 

You noticed the way Joel’s voice soften when he speaks to Tess, the intimacy between them is palpable, in this moment you’re just an appendage. 

You want that desperately, belong to someone, to him, to her, to feel his voice and his whole body going unshielded for you. 

Joel spits into his palm and takes his cock in his fist, pumping it and then tapping the tip on her cunt, once, twice, three times, rubbing it on her folds, lubricating it with her juices, before getting it all the way inside her. Tess's body arches so desperately over yours, merging with Joel's as he begins to thrust inside her.

She thrashes on top of you, clinging to your forearms, pushing you back against the mattress, her hips swaying over yours again giving secondhand attention to your clit, now so swollen and needy that each thrust you emit a moan in sync with her, shyly participating in her pleasure. You bend your neck slightly to one side to look at Joel standing before you, bronze and sculptural, a cruel god who leaves you breathless. His chest glistens in the dim sunlight streaming in through the window, revealing tiny droplets of sweat beading on him, a grin painted on his face, brows furrowed, lost in Tess's wet walls, focused on pounding on her special spot again and again.

“You like that huh? You like this cock splitting you, yeah, I know you do, fuck you’re so drenched I could take a bath in it, all slippery and warm...mmm baby, just like that. Take it.”

He rests a hand on her belly to hold her more firmly, a sense of possession different from that manifested with you, purer and deeper, made up of silent, recurring gestures between them. It's as if you feel it all the way down into your stomach as he sinks into her, the forced closeness making you almost delirious, sensitive and wanting.

Tess is almost at her peak, sliding on you now unceasingly, her back kneading your breasts, up and down, your nipples impossibly hard against her skin, she stammers "there- there- I'm almost there- oh fuck"

"Not yet, baby, hold it back" he challenges her and she growls in disappointment and frustration, as he comes out of her. Joel brushes against you "it's time to put this slut in her place. You want it huh?" he roars as he looks at you "I can see it from here, you're flowing like a fucking river, clenching around nothing like a whore” 

His eyes sparkle with evil. He spits on your cunt, a glob of saliva right on your clit. He spreads it quickly over your entrance and thrusts into you unceremoniously, all the way down, in one breath-breaking stroke. "You're full now huh? Clench around my shaft, bitch” 

You feel your walls strangle his cock, eager to hold him inside, to belong to him, to be broken through. "Yes" you moan, not even sure why you had tried to run away from this anymore. Tess wouldn't even need to hold you with her whole body but you'll never say it, the way she bounces on top of you drives you crazy. You are back on the scene now, eager, drunk with a dark, all-consuming desire burning in your veins.

He grips your hips hard, digging his fingers into your thighs, going out and back in you harder, deeper each time, using your cunt as his personal toy, beating on your cervix as if he were to fill it with bruises. And you don't care, welcoming each thrust as if it were the last thing you will ever receive.

Your mouth proceeds alone, bellowing and wailing each moan like an off-key song you can't stop singing, irrepressible, obscene, feverish.

"You're tight for a whore, pet, but don't worry, I'll take care of it." Joel grunts, Tess echoes you, her harsh voice protesting uselessly to let her finish, her legs wrap around Joel's waist claiming him but he is focused on ruining you now with the cruel and unrelenting force he has not reserved for her.

Her nails sink into the skin of your arms, you feel them barely disconcerted by Joel's stabs but a tiny part of your brain knows they will leave more marks on you. 

There is nothing gentle about it, no attention, no care, just animalistic thrusts that make your body shake like an earthquake. 

You are less, obviously less, but you are still something.

Tess turns on you, looking into your eyes, lowering a hand to your clit, rubbing it furiously and then colliding it with her own, clit against clit, pressed together in sloppy kissing, hips rocking back and forth, sliding up to the point where Joel joins obscenely with you, seeking on her own the finish Joel has not yet given her by using your body.

“Oh fuck, yes,” she screeches, "here we go little slut, give it all to me" biting your skin on the marks Joel left, on your neck, on your tits, sucking your nipples between her lips, unrestrained. She's a wild amazon riding you, untamed, fierce and mean, teeth, tongue and hips demanding no permission and taking from your body what they want. 

And then again her hand descends between you to rub her clit as her knuckles press against yours, squirting letting out a guttural sound, flooding you, Joel's cock and the sheets. 

Joel growls at the vision “oh that’s fucking right, babe, yeah spurt all over me, FUCK, so good”

And you lose yourself, your sanity flying out the window with your attempts to escape, you are caged by Tess's body, hammered by Joel's cock, you feel their eyes on you looking fiercely, them calling you their slut again and again, that's all you can do. 

Tess pulls away from you, Joel holds you firmly by the hips, his face contorts into a grimace, he bites his lower lip as he thrusts himself possessively into you, reaches down and puts a hand around your neck, squeezing your pulse point, smiling cruelly as your air diminishes and your mind becomes rarefied “keep it up slut, milk me” and she scolds him “you can't cum inside her”.

“Fuck” he snorts "you're right". The grip on your neck loosens and you gasp, panting hard, trying to regain oxygen.

Joel slaps your pussy hard with his hand open, ordering: “on your knees, pet.”

You sit complacently on your lap on the bed, uncertain of what he wants to do. Tess is at your side, sneering. 

“Stick out your tongue for me.” He says harshly, Tess's hand bends your back, making you squat, waiting. 

“Good kitten” Joel grunts stroking his cock up and down, the angry red tip aimed at you. You don't realize it in time that long, thick, streaks of cum hit your face, your mouth, slide down your chin. You close your eyes just a moment before you feel his semen hit your eyelashes and run thickly down your cheek.

“Mmm now you look just like a proper slut” Tess giggles wickedly, then pauses "In fact no, we can do better". She grabs you by the arm, drags you naked as a maggot into the bathroom, and gets you on your knees inside the tub. “Hold still” she barks at you. You close your eyes, trembling, not knowing what to expect, until you feel something warm hit your forehead, run down your face, partially wash the cum off. An acrid, pungent smell makes its way into your nostrils. As soon as it reaches your lips you realize. 

You open your eyes, clouded by Tess's piss, her degrading gaze penetrating your bones along with Joel's laughter, standing in the bathroom enjoying the show. 

“Now you're perfect.”

tag list: @aurorawritestoescape , @baronessvonglitter

[electricalhuzzah]

HELLO the Heinz dilemma ate my brain and became *the* handyman bill fic and i was so excited to see you got tumblr because I need to talk to someone about it

Anyway Mabel wanting to matchmake for Bill got me thinking about a situation where she’s like “I found someone perfect for you!” And obvs he tries to get out of it but Stan/Dipper are like “if it makes Mabel happy you’re doing it you triangle”

So he *does* and obviously Ford handles it Very Well (read: pitches a fit) and relationship reveal happens and then Stan and Dipper are like “WOAH you’re cheating on my brother/Grunkle Ford! Dick!” and Bill’s just there like. You two made me there is no world in which this is on me

(Sorry for the idea dump I just needed to get it out of my brain and every chapter of the fic gives me a new brain worm that’s how good it is)

SCREAMING VEHEMENTLY I RECOGNIZED UR USER AND IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY SILLY FIC AAAAAAA

i don’t wanna give away too much, but that line about mabel matchmaking for bill was not just a throwaway line, i do in fact have a chapter planned in that vein >:)))

you’re so fucking cash dollar on the money about ford pitching a fit. stanford pines the type of guy to say some shit like like “i’m a grown man, i don’t get jealous. at the end of the day my partner comes home to me and thats what matters :)” but in practice he’d be so possessive he shoots daggers at any customer whose hand lingers too long giving bill cash at the register. this is a man who was in fight or flight mode for like thirty years. he has killed for less.

as for how the relationship reveal happens,,, i wont say anything yet for fear of giving it away, sorry to keep you on pins and needles my good man.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL UR SUPPORT !! <33

[twopoppies]

I would like to add a bit to the ‘bi as a stepping stone’ discussion.

We all know how Ricky Martin was sold at the end of 90’s/ early 00’s - his hypersexual videos with tuns of half naked women & occasionally making out with some of them. Idk in how many relationships he was with women (and if they were real or just for a bearding purpose) before he came out but according to wiki, it says:

“In March 2010, Martin publicly came out as gay via a message on his website, stating: "I am proud to say that I am a fortunate homosexual man. I am very blessed to be who I am."In an interview with Vanity Fair, he declared: "There was love, passion. I do not regret anything, any of the relationships I lived, they taught me a lot, both men and women." Martin also told Fama!: "I know that I like both men and women, I'm against sexual labels, we are simply human beings with emotional and sexual needs. I like to enjoy sex in total freedom, so I'm open to having sex with a woman if I feel desire." Despite this, he expressed that he would not be interested in "an ongoing relationship with a woman", stating: "Men are my thing"”

So there it is - he talked about relationships/being in love and sleeping with women but yet he came out as gay, not bi.

So in my theory and based on the fact that I believe H doesn’t want to lie about important things (we all know how he denied Larry when asked about Sweet Creature), if he (and Louis) will want & be able to come out, he will make sure his PR team will work harder than the devil to come out with a bulletproof strategy to come out without using bi as a stepping stone. And also if he’s actually bi (like he’s not), imo he would come out already because he plays both straight and gay anyway so I don’t think it would be such a biggie if you get what I mean. But there’s a reason why he keeps it to himself and so I don’t think (and I really hope) he won’t come out as bi.

I agree with you. I think the idea that he's bisexual has been put out there by his team as a way to "explain" his lyrics/behavior/appearance etc. and keep playing all sides. But I don't think he's actually going to confirm he's bisexual. He's made it quite clear he doesn't think the public needs to know anything about his sexuality. What I would hope for him is the end of the PR relationships and the ability to stop pretending. If he ever wants to confirm or clarify, that's up to him.

I think with Ricky Martin, it's possible he was still discovering himself early on when he had relationships with women, but I don't know. He identifies as a gay man at this point, and he seems very happy. I believe Harry has known for a long time that he's not interested in women (in fact, the only time he's ever directly answered a question about his sexuality was to say he WASN'T bisexual, but everyone seems to ignore that now).

[sexysadie23]

spoiler alert, i repeat: spoiler alert.

please continue to scroll if you have not yet watched OBX4 Part 2. Do not check these comments. IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO ADD PLS COMMENT x

People are saying that JJ’s death and Rafe breaking up with Sofia could lead to Riara finally manifesting on screen.

Reasons why this wouldn’t happen:

1. I genuinely believed that Rafe loved and still loves Sofia and doubt their story is over. I hope it’s not; I really ship them!! They are a beautiful couple and not even Kiara could bring that soft side out of him.

2. JJ died. Kiara would NOT move on so fast and especially not with Rafe (someone JJ hated severely).

3. Kie has been genuinely SCARED of Rafe. A lot of people think those scenes are sexual tension but you can see the fear in her eyes to the point where she grabs a knife.

4. Kie knows her friends HATE Rafe but [see point 6 in the next section]

5. Kiara will be too focused on revenge.

however

Reasons why this COULD happen:

1. Kiara may go into self destruct mode and feel like she needs to fill that gaping hole JJ left.

2. Not canon (yet?) but with all the evidence, in that Rafe is constantly ONLY forgiving Kiara and is ONLY nice to her, they may have had a past on her Kook Year. Just a theory!

3. Rafe is angry by nature, and Kiara is going to be angry after JJ’s death. He may let her lean into that side of herself because he does that all the time, she might even feel comfortable to be angry around him. however I am sure the other pogues are angry, but Kie seems to be on a bloodhunt. She may go dark and he will probably be the only one to understand.

4. Rafe was the FIRST to agree to go to Lisbon and get Chandler Groff. Everyone else questioned it, but he said what she was thinking before she even had the chance to say it.

5. Also we know that Jiara partly came to fruition because of the fans shipping them, so maybe the show runners have seen the Riara theories and decided to “give the fans what they want”??? Although I wouldn’t say every fan wants this for the reasons I listed above.

6. Rafe is definitely getting a redemption arc (I am so happy but also scared because it means he might die. Like why do shows redeem a character and finally have us route for them just to kill them? Although I don’t think he will die for some reason.)

7. Both of their relationships ended, leaving a path for them to idk find each other?? Sarah and John B have each other as well as Cleo and Pope on their way to Lisbon. I know most of them are friends but Kiara may seek to end her loneliness?

8. I really hope it doesn’t happen soon but most characters whose lover dies (Ie Rick with Laurie and Michonne in The Walking Dead) have to move on eventually. We can’t expect them to stay single forever so PERHAPS if there was a time jump (even at the s5 end perhaps), along with Rafe’s redemption arc, they could be together. I doubt they would put Kiara with some random guy. If she were to find love again it would be with someone we know from the show.

However I doubt this will happen again because the show might end pogue style with friendship and family at the forefront rather than romance. As I wrote the sentence before THOUGH: another thought popped up. Rafe will be the uncle to Sarah’s baby and Kiara will be the ‘aunt’ so maybe if the ending is all about family, maybe they will come together?? Rafe’s redemption would have to be REALLY good though.

9. Kie literally saved Rafe on that boat???

10. The show creators said ON VIDEO that they never thought about Riara until the fans brought up their chemistry and that they found it “so wrong it is almost right”???? Helloooo??

I hope none of these^ are true though because I love Rofia.

then again Sofia might have just been used as a way to move the plot forward to get Rafe in the position where he needs to go with the Pogues.

Any thoughts??

[hana-bobo-finch]

Shoutout to this draft I made a couple hours ago when I suddenly had an epiphany for how I could fix a part of my story and I was so excited that the only way I could express it is to write whatever this is but I couldn’t post it because I didn’t have internet

also it got marked as mature for some reason

[amoritasart]

Why do you always draw Luz with the sun and moon earings? It's a very intentional choice.

Short answer: I have Sun and Moon earrings and I think they'd look cute on her!

Long answer: Ooo so I actually have several reasons! Soo there are several design elements that are present throughout the show to represent certain characters. As you probably know I’m a huge Huntceda shipper, and Luz’s main color scheme of purple is complementary to Hunter’s yellow… plus with Luz consistently having stars decorated in her clothes, I sort of associate them with the Sun and Moon! Opposites kind of ships. It reminds me of other ships I like, like Zutara (you rise with the Moon, I rise with the Sun! )and Reylo (light and dark).

I also really like using it because the Collector’s face is that of a Sun and Moon, which remind me of Mexican folk art and artesanias (:

And finally, I think it makes her a bit distinct! I don’t really have a super consistent style…so I wanted to draw her in a way that’s always a bit familiar… I think maybe giving her those signature earrings help her stand out! So if anyone who has seen my art sees a new drawing, hopefull it will recognizable as something I drew!