#I only did the teenagers because not being able to recognize how tired you are is a teenage right of passage
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crushed-oranged-angered ¡ 1 day ago
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As I start to gradually slide back into full Teen Wolf brainrot, here’s a list of how I think Teen Wolf characters would behave when overtired (because I am nothing if not good at projecting)
Isaac and Allison both get super grouchy in different ways. Isaac gets some season 2 douchebag back in him. Like his anger starts to get a little unchecked, he loses some of his coping mechanisms and he starts talking about how “he’s not so good at writing” and maybe he’ll just kill someone and everyone else is like “okay or maybe just go to bed, get a full 8 hours and try again tomorrow”.
Allison gets some season 2 anger back too but, whether she knew it or not, she was raised to be a solider and was absolutely taught to ignore her emotions. So her anger is all internalized and it’s not until Lydia or Scott notice like “hey you’re glaring at the paper pretty hard there” or she says something particularly cruel about herself that people get clued in.
Mason has a lot of inside thoughts that, when he’s well-rested, are filtered cause he 1. recognizes that they are unkind and 2. doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. When he’s tired, depending on the level of exhaustion and who he is talking to, one of those two reasons to filter goes away. I love Mason, he’s a total sweetheart but kindness is a choice that takes EFFORT there’s no way it doesn’t slip a little when he’s off his game.
Liam, Malia and Kira are all spontaneous sleepers (to ME). I feel like these three narratively struggle the most with control. So it would make sense to me that they would be going going going and at some point their bodies just go “okay we are done” and suddenly they are asleep. Malia is the most normal about it, cause of the three, she feels the most in tune with her body’s needs. So she’ll feel it coming on and be like “okay I need to lay down” and will like. Put her head on her arms or something. Kira starts slurring her words or will stumble a bit more and someone is like “oh Kira is going down” and will help her out. Liam just cold drops in the middle of whatever he is doing, totally passes out with no warning.
Stiles, Lydia and Scott are different based on the season levels of trauma they’ve experienced (oooo angst)
Lydia has so carefully crafted herself in the beginning, I feel like, for the first two seasons, it HAS to be that that facade starts to crack. She’ll correct Jackson’s grammar. She’ll rattle off an equation too quickly. She’ll correct a teacher. After she’s come into herself more, and the facade crumbles like a stale cookie, I feel like it would be the opposite. She starts making crazy mistakes that even she’s like ‘okay what the fuck I just wrote 2+4=28’
Season 1 Stiles would absolutely just start falling asleep in random places. Total spontaneous sleeper BUT! Post-possession, anxiety brain is like ‘nope that can’t happen again’ so over tired-ness leads to shakes and increased adrenaline. Which leads to more over tiredness and more shakes and more adrenaline and…
Season 1 Scott gets confused when he’s over tired. Just has a really hard time sorting his schedule and remembering. One of my Scott headcanons is that he is one of those guys that needs to be like very organized. Like he’s smart but if all his ducks aren’t in a row, he scrambles. We see that he struggles most when he (justifiably due to… events - like getting bit by a werewolf!) can’t compartmentalize. And I think, pre- and early werewolfism, being exhausted and over-worked would be one of the biggest wrecking balls to his row of ducks. As the show goes on, I feel like Scott would start to shut down when overtired though. Like frequently zones out, not always responsive and when he is almost entirely nonverbal responses
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totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus ¡ 4 months ago
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i'm amazed by the energy that antibucktommy people bring to this show like one of the most beloved characters and one of the biggest storylines in the very first season wasn't bobby and the fact that he murdered 148 people including his wife and children and is trying to rebuild his life. it's almost like this show has been saying since the beginning that people can grow and be better and maybe we should give them the space to do that.
anyway buck and tommy were really cute this episode. and there's something so teenage giddiness about them hiding behind a couch for a fake surprise party and flirting that just makes me so happy for the sheer queerness of the experience for buck
This is honestly why I stopped interacting with a lot of segments of fandom over the summer and started curating my fyp and tumblr follows a little more intensely. All of the characters have done horrible things (some more recently than others), things that are usually regarded as unforgivable. Bobby's story is the big one, but Hen's cheating storyline, Athena's many and varied abuses of power as a cop, Chim's really pretty sus relationship with Tatiana, Eddie's fight club era and his treatment of the women he gets into relationships with, Buck manipulating Taylor (like, kind of a lot)...like they've all done terrible things and we have watched them come back from it and learn and grow and change, and love them for it.
I think a lot of it stems from the fact that the horrible things they did were not done to our faves (I'd argue the fandom didn't know Karen well enough during the cheating storyline to not feel inclined to forgive Hen for it) and the fact that the racism and sexism displayed by Tommy at first are such lightning rod issues anyway (as well they should be). And, yes, let's be real, the majority of it is what I'll kindly call disappointment that we got Bi!Buck after all this time, but not Buddie. And that's fair (to an extent...there's NO excuse for the kind of harrassment we saw over the last few months).
But the vitriol displayed towards BuckTommy and the people that ship them is just really outsized in my opinion. The show is going out of their way to show us that Tommy is good to Buck (and friends with Eddie), and that they are enjoying each other. Whether or not it leads to Buddie, don't we WANT Buck to have a good relationship for his first as a queer man? Everyone talks about representation being SO important--we have an extremely masculine characater (who has canonically been presented as a playboy/heartthrob type) discovering a new facet of his sexuality when he's nearly in his mid-thirties, and exploring that facet with a love interest that is EQUALLY as masculine. This storyline is important! It's breaking a lot of new ground and doing it in a really nicely done way.
And in regards to Tommy...I dunno, maybe it's because I've grown up in an environment that pretty much BREEDS men like BeginsEra!Tommy. Yes, they have a choice not to be the way they are--but unless you live in it, it's hard to understand how hard making that choice, or even recognizing that you DO have a choice, really is. I think it's also important to show a character who didn't remain a piece of trash human, and was able to accept that they were wrong and CHANGE. If the only way you can ever be defined is by what you were at your very worst, what is even the fucking point of changing? No one owes you forgiveness, even after you do the work to change...but nor do you deserve to be punished forever.
I dunno, I just wanna enjoy my weewoo show and I'm tired of people harshing my buzz (heh, see what I did there?) I still ship Buddie. I ship BuckTommy. Most of all I ship Buck/Happiness and I am eager to see if he finally gets some that lasts.
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strangepoetrytimemachine ¡ 25 days ago
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Part 1 ⬆️
(This is part 2)
Vent
Warnings: sexual activity, family issues
I did a bit of research on google, and I found out that many people go through what I go/went through: getting no respect as to the sexual activity in a shared household.
More so, some people have it bad.
I’ve recognized that what I witnessed growing up did affect how I see couples and adults in general. I see them as dirty. Of course, I’m a teenager. So, I’m no stranger to sexual things outside of my house, like tv shows, school, and etc. It just makes me disgusted by the human mind in that way.
About a month ago, I stayed up on my phone and at around 11 pm I hear my mom and her bf have full on sex. I was extremely angry. Mostly my mom. All I thought was, “She has no respect for her own daughter. Is she that stupid? Is she so dirty that she can’t wait until they have a private area?” From what I’ve seen online, people (mostly) would try to block out the noise and suck it up until the couple finished. I wasn’t going to torture myself, so I banged on the door and I ran back to my room to lock it. I then texted my mom on how disgusting they were.
To be honest, I felt guilty for the text. Although I would and will never feel bad for interrupting them. They needed to understand that I’m not a baby who doesn’t understand what’s going on. I’m 14! Not only that, but they needed to respect the fact that I live there too.
My mom started calling out to see who knocked. I stayed quiet in my locked room, not knowing what to do. I didn’t plan that far ahead. After a few minutes, her bf left and my mom banged on my door, knowing it was me who interrupted them. She started getting agitated, so I started forcing myself to cry, so maybe she’d take it easy on me. It didn’t help. I ended up opening the door, covering my face in fake shame. What I was actually doing was covering my eyes, so I wouldn’t have to see her. I was that disgusted by the whole situation.
My mom then dragged me to her room and forced me to sit on her bed. I felt so uncomfortable by the bed sheets I was sitting on. She forced me to talk to her. My fake tears were slowly turning real because of how I felt during it all. I told her that I banged on the door because I heard them have sex, I didn’t deny it. She then told me that he was giving her a massage… while being naked. She’s a horrible liar.
I’m sure a lot of parents try to lie in times like those, but really? How stupid did she think I was? After she said that, I immediately stopped crying from how angry I was. Sure, the sex was disturbing and disrespectful. But it was the fact that she’d lie to me was what really finished me off. She knew I was upset and asked if I wanted to stay in her room for the day.
Is she that ignorant? She even offered to switch out the sheets. I’ve never met anyone worse at lying.
I stopped arguing with her and I apologized, too tired to prove her wrong. I washed my face and I went to sleep.
The day after, she insisted on driving me to school, so I had no choice. I barely remember the car ride. It wasn’t awkward for me, I was still angry at her. I felt betrayed. She tried to make me talk to her, to which I obviously didn’t comply. For the few days after, I just told her to forget about it, because I wanted to forget.
Things quickly changed to as if nothing had happened, but I knew it did.
The way I view my mom has been morphing into the person I thought of her as for a long time, I just wanted to ignore it. Even now, I still see her as dirty.
Whenever her bf comes over, I can’t help but be disgusted. Whenever they both stay in her room, my heart beats loud out of fear and I won’t even be able to step into her room before assuming (basically knowing) what happened in that there.
Get ready for part 3 where I tell you how I found a nude pick of her bf’s d, my mom sending nudes to a man, my mom talking about a sex experience to her friend with my best friend in the car, and so much worse!!
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gloomverse-theories ¡ 1 year ago
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How Cirrus’ childish behaviour is symptomatic of the problems in stratoversian society
Stratoverse is a foreign country with a culture still clouded in mystery, but we were given snippets into its inner working thanks to Indigo, Virga, Nim and Cirrus. So far, all of the stratoversian with screentime displayed various levels of immaturity, more or less subtly. Before I can dive into those, let’s define something.
What is Maturity?
“Maturity” is a buzzword that gets thrown around, but people would be hard pressed to give it a clear definition. How do you define maturity? It’s the state of being mature, says one dictionary, proving its uselessness. Maturity is being an adult, but Cirrus insisting that “he is an adult so you can’t make him do anything” is ironically a big sign of immaturity.
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Being mature is a list of behaviours, such as:
Managing your own emotions
Recognizing other people’s emotions
Taking responsibility for your actions
Establishing your boundaries and respecting other’s
Being able to apologise
Being able to handle failure, rejection, or being wrong
Being open-minded
Maturity is not only a virtue, but also a skill. It’s one that is expected out of adults and even older teens, but no one is perfect, no one is mature at all times. Being mature is hard work, being responsible is difficult, admitting you were wrong can seem impossible, but it’s still something everyone needs to strive to in order to live in society. It becomes a problem if the moments of immaturity outweigh the moments of maturity. It becomes an even bigger problem when you give someone like that power.
The thing about power is that you can ignore your responsibilities if you have enough (sorry Uncle Ben), and Stratoversian society is built on power.
Let’s take a look at Cirrus, as he is the prime example of an immature Stratoversian
Cirrus’ immaturity
Our first impression of Cirrus is that of a stuck-up jerk who belittles people for something as trivial as wearing shoes. Our second impression of Cirrus is that of a man-child giving himself a headache after throwing the aforementioned tantrum. It is not a brilliant introduction, he is made to be unlikeable, so unlikeable that even the one character he interacts with is glad to see him gone.
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From the get-go, he demonstrates that
1. He is not able to manage his emotions and even hurts himself with how he expresses them
2. He does not recognize he was wrong for getting angry or apologises, instead he “ignores” her “disgrace” for a moment
3. He does not respect the president’s order to stay out of Gloomverse, showing that he does not care for the consequences of his actions and does not take responsibility for them
4. He is very close minded of anything outside of Stratoversian norms
And that’s just from his first appearance! Without even mentioning his catastrophic rapport to Nim!
In his second appearance, Purple aptly remarks that Cirrus “act like a five year old”, and he is right.
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Cirrus insists on coming with Nim to Wallis’ show, claiming interest in the culture. He promised to behave, but forced Nim in a position where she had to accept his demand or risk having him show up without being supervised. Fast-forward to the time of the show, and all of his previous claims fall through. He is still belittling the culture and Nim needs to remind him of the very real consequences for Her in order to get him to settle down. The show starts, Seaweed shows up, and Cirrus gets a teenager crush, and proves once again what little handle he has on his emotions. Cakegirl arrives, and Cirrus does his good action of the day by saving Harold from a fall to the death.
When the world conference rolls around, Cirrus spent three weeks in jail, and it did not teach him anything. He finally crosses the line with Nim and gets an overdue call out on his behaviour. She establishes some very clear boundaries here. She’s tired of babysitting him! Unfortunately, this does not stick, because Cirrus follows her back to the ruins. He literally has no valid reason for doing this. What’s more, we have yet to hear a single apology from this guy.
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Then, the Beach Episode comes. Cirrus does not miss the opportunity to show off his wonderful temper. But we get a little more this time, we get a crack. For the first time, he manages to keep a straight face as he recites a law of Stratoverse. This happens once again in A Day on the Town when cirrus talks about his fathers’ ranch. You can tell it’s a sore topic because he remains emotionless.  After all his exuberant display of outrage, this is the one topic where he doesn’t allow himself to feel anything.
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And we will unpack that later!
Indigo as a parallel
Indigo doesn’t get revealed as Stratoversian right away. He’s a working DJ, he’s the president’s personal hitman, he’s a delusional playboy… He is a lot of things, depending on what he needs! Overall, Indigo is selfish. He does not care what others are going through, or the consequences of his actions on them as long as he comes out unscathed.
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Contrarily to Cirrus, Indigo has his emotions in check. He does not care about what other people do if it doesn’t affect him, while Cirrus gets introduced by yelling at Nim for touching the ground. Indigo is smiling most times and even if he is an “open book”, his emotions are not the burden of others. That is, unless you press a sensitive point, like his sense of self. On the other hand, Cirrus’ temper is something everyone else has to deal with and tip toe around. The only time when he can keep it together is when it’s something he’s sensitive about.
Where Cirrus shuts down, Indigo flares up, and so they make for interesting parallels.
Indigo’s immaturity is different from Cirrus, because they had different lives, but the root of the problem is once again Stratoverse. Thanks to Indigo, we got context for Stratoversian childhood and expectations. And it’s pretty terrible.
Let’s talk about it!
Cirrus’ childhood
Stratoverse has some kind of incentive to make every citizen gain weather magic. The reason why is still a mystery and worthy of plenty of theories, but it is not today’s focus.
Indigo explains pretty well how this happens. Children are separated from their families, given to caretakers and taught about the weather cycle. Nim mentions that she got “floated” a lot as a kid, so it’s not a full no-contact situation - at least not for everyone - but it’s still rather isolating. Indigo tells us that he “wanted to live in the sky with [his] parents”, and so did most other kids.
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Cirrus is an exception though, because his fathers live on the mainland in a ranch. They do not have magic and they can’t live in the cloud city. There’s no one waiting for Cirrus in the clouds. When other children finally regroup with their family upon getting magic, Cirrus would be leaving his behind forever. As he loves to remind people, it’s shameful to touch the ground. He still holds them dear in his heart, as shown when he punched the president for badmouthing magicless people, or when he almost cracked after Rylie’s question. Nevertheless, it still got ingrained in him that he should be ashamed of his origins, from how meek he was when talking about his dads’ ranch. Stratoversian propaganda is very effective if it can convince a country kid that a leaf is actually disgusting and touching the ground a disgrace.
Cirrus is powerful, he probably got magic early on. Let’s say 12 years old. From that age on, he grew up with no parents, no guardians, no caretakers. It’s during teenage years that people learn to be mature, to manage their emotions, to handle conflict and to respect others. They can either learn it in school, from teachers or peers, or from their family. Cirrus had neither. He can’t go to his family and he doesn’t have any friends if his attachment to Nim is anything to go by.
Speaking of, let’s focus on Nim and Cirrus for a little bit now.
Cirrus’ attachment to Nim
Cirrus and Nim are both grown adult, and they’re both royalties. They’re not siblings however, and don’t know much about each other. For all due purposes, they are colleagues. Cirrus seems to have some years of anteriority over Nim, but other than that they’re equals. They have no need to interact, and Nim would even prefer if they didn’t. Despite that, Cirrus clings to her with force. We know from Virga that the trip back and forth to Gloomverse takes a full day. Cirrus come visit her multiple times, and his first visit (that we know of) lasted less than an hour. He clearly doesn’t approve of what Nim is doing, but that doesn’t stop him from checking up on her.
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Why?
Because he is a fucking desperate for a human connection, except he has no clue how to go about it, so he clings to the only proper relationship he has in his life: his royal colleague!
He can’t turn to Virga because she’s already proven herself to be unsafe by punching him and making fun of his ideas, and he can’t be around the king because everyone expects him to dethrone (and kill) him, so Nim is the only one he has left. She’s also polite and nice enough to tolerate him, and he takes it as the greenlight to be even more clingy. He’s unconsciously forcing her to mom him, and she has to be responsible for the two of them.
Nim is stuck trying to appease him and maintain a cordial relationship because her own situation is unprecedented and precarious, and there’s a high chance he could jeopardize her passports and permits if she actually spoke her mind! At the world conference, she finally speak up because she literally has nothing to lose. She spent three weeks in jail because of her association with Cirrus, and her passports and permits to study have been thrown out the window. So when he belittles her and her interests, she snaps, because she can.
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Their relationship is not a balanced one, but it’s progressively becoming better. Now that nothing is at stakes, she can be honest and actually tell him off, which she does!
Royal Responsibilities
You may have already read a few pieces about it (like this rant), but the prince and princess titles doesn’t seem to come with a lot of responsibilities. It seems that only the king and queen can make any meaningful decisions, and the prince and princess’ role is to support those decisions.
Cirrus is interested in making life better for the magicless. He has family at stake even. Yet he is shown running away from any responsibilities he might have in Stratoverse to follow Nim, and aggravating the tense relationship between Gloomverse and Stratoverse by punching the president. It’s not really his fault though, because that’s the way Stratoverse’s society is built: the most powerful have the most power, and the ones with power can do what they want because they’re powerful. You don’t agree with a political decision? Duke it out with the politician. Someone made a mistake? Punch them to teach them a lesson. That’s what he learned, that’s what he does.
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And what he does is selfish and immature, because that’s what the system thrives on. People are encouraged to remain immature, to act on instinct, to punch the people they don’t like, to be selfish and not think of others. The system relies on Stratoversian being too busy fighting to survive, too selfish and immature to give a damn what others are going through. It keeps people from organizing and rebelling. It keeps the system going.
Summary
This went in a different direction than what I thought it would. Here’s a summary:
Stratoversians, especially Cirrus, have been regularly characterised by their immaturity – especially when it comes to handling their emotions. They resort to show of force, they establish dominance with their magic, their bodies, their voice. Even Indigo resort to it when pushed to the brink. The way children are raised in Stratoverse often leads to immature adults because of a lack of appropriate education and doing the equivalent of giving a teenager a gun. Stratoverse culture is one of power, where rationality is dismissed in favour of strength. This keep people from trying to change the system: the people in power benefits from it, and if someone were to try and change things, a punch in the face will put a stop to it.
Cirrus is a product of that society: immature, impulsive, careless, and full of prejudice. So were Nim and Indigo, and they’re all on a journey to unlearn those things, albeit at different speeds.
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metaphoricgibberish ¡ 7 months ago
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I’m having a really shit time
I know none of you give a fuck about my personal life, but honestly i’m just putting this here because I need to expel it and it’s too long for fucking twitter and i’ve already ranted enough to my friends.
I’m so fucking tired. I’m so fucking burnt out it’s honestly a miracle I haven’t been checked in somewhere yet. I’ve had a lot of bad years. I’ve survived a lot. But honestly I think this past year has been one of my worst, surely in the bottom five.
My health and anxiety have been a huge part of that. I’ve dealt with panic attacks since I was a teenager, but i’ve had more in the last year than I have over the rest of my years combined. I’m wearing a fucking heart monitor as I type this for fuck’s sake…
Work is truly the biggest trigger. I started working at frog design at the end of 2019, and I thought, truly thought, that I could stay there for the rest of my career. I loved it, I loved the people, I loved the work, I loved being surrounded by creativity and innovation and real fucking work that actually matters. But when frog got bought out by Capgemini in 2021 everything went to shit. I haven’t had a raise in three years. I make less than 30 dollars an hour, and I live in one of the most expensive cities in the world. I’ve been poor my whole life, this isn’t new to me, but with the amount of responsibility i’ve taken on, the amount of work i’ve put in, it is fucking despicable that I make as little as I do.
When I started at frog, I was an office coordinator. Now, not only am I still that, i’m also the event manager, as well as a part of the facilities team that manages the entire west coast. I step up whenever and wherever I can and I am given nothing in response to that effort. I managed the move of three offices into one giant space that capgemini and all its fucking subsidiaries are now required to work within together and I got absolutely zero credit for it.
There’s this fuck that I work with, this misogynistic shell of a man, who every day talks to and treats me like garbage. He’s undermined me, spoken to me like I am a child, blatantly told me that I am “far too down in the hierarchy of this company” to be able to talk to certain people. Meanwhile, this man pulls me into conference rooms multiple times a day to ask me to speak with frog management because he “can’t do it himself”. I held a pride event a couple weeks ago, part of which involved me doing an informative talk about the different pride flags, and he had the audacity (as an openly gay man) to shout out obscene and offensive stereotypes while I was trying to educate the rest of my colleagues. I don’t know what to do. I know that if I escalate this (which I can only do through HR as my manager is an incompetent moron who only calls me to bitch about her boyfriend) it will only make my situation worse. This man is an executive assistant to an asshole just as pompous as himself, and yet he somehow thinks he has jurisdiction over the entire office.
I have the biggest event of my career tomorrow. 500 external attendees. I’ve tried to manage the entire thing myself, but with the rest of my workload, I can only do so much. I know that it’s going to be a shitshow, and at this point, there’s nothing I can do about it.
Three weeks ago I worked seven hours overtime (at another event I managed with over 200 external attendees) and I did not get paid for a single minute of it. The same will be the case tomorrow.
All this is to say i’m tired. I’m so fucking tired I don’t know how I manage to wake up in the morning. To anyone in a similar position: I see you, I appreciate you, I recognize you.
I don’t think anyone is reading at this point, but if you somehow are, thank you. That’s more than can be said for anyone in my life outside of my therapist (god bless you Colleen).
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passanima ¡ 1 year ago
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i watched a movie called "Jessie and the Elf Boy" and i'm here to tell you about it. absolutely not spoiler free but i doubt any of you will watch it (still do if it sounds interesting to you)
summary: "Follows Jessie, a teenager who wants to become a renowned hair stylist, and meets Ghillie Dhu, a forest elf who has a gift for hair styling, and they strike up a unique partnership which catapults Jessie to fame"
kinda bad in the writing and acting, felt very cheap but it had a plot twist i straight up did not see coming? and it's WILD cause they gave many clues about it! and the ending! actually made me emotional!
so, good on you movie! no clue why they describe jessie as a teen in summary, she's actually a working young adult
ghillie dhu "gift for hairstyling" is very edward scissorhand esque but uglier lol
if any of this sounds like a goofy low budget 90s movie... you'd be right expect for the date. it came out in 2022
ok, so! spoilers from now on. story was a lil girl gets lost in the woods and meets an elf. she can't see him until he gift her a necklace. they become friends and spend a lot of time together. then one day she moves away suddenly and the elf doesn't understand it's forever so he waits for her
until he's tired of waiting and go look into her abandonned house (they lived close to the forest) and finds a picture of her that he takes to recognize her as he decides to go look for his friend
NOW…….. this isn't technically how it starts. we instead start on a young adult getting ready for her first day of work. then. there's a record scratch and she says in voice over "yes, this is me. but it's not really where the story starts. we have to go back into the past"
i almost screamed at that. been so long since i heard such an opening it jump scared me no joke
anyway because it starts with her visually, and she says in voice over "let's go back to the start" you think the lil girl and the elf is from her memory
plot twit: it isn't
eventually the elf finds her and the only clue we have that years have passed (other than her being an adult lol) is that the picture he carries is so beat down you can barely see it
as an adult she still wears the necklace so able to see him but she doesn't remember him
the whole movie i thought the reason was trauma (hinted that she had a shit childhood) or that she told herself he was her imaginary friend and was very badly handling him being here again and fighting her own memories
but actually the girl the elf was friend with was this girl's mom
at least 40+ years had passed while he looked for her
…………………….. this movie is about hairdressing, remember that?
the elf also wear green eye shadow, has the most uninspired styling (clothes + hair), only has two expressions the whole movie and i
genuinely enjoy it. no i cannot explain it in a logical way
the elf reunites with the mom, it's cute, he stays friend with the daughter and her roomate, very sweet ending to a nonsense movie
so if you miss that brand of weird and cartoony but somehow touching movies and wish they were still made today: hey! they are!
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starseers ¡ 3 years ago
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DID is not fun.
It is not your get out of jail free card. It is not just roleplay with a different name. It's chronic, it sticks with you for life. It's a constant reminder of the things that happened to you and it's that one scar that will never fade.
To the systems who have healed a lot, who are able to live happily, I salute you. I'm proud of you and you have every right to be proud of yourself too. But the insensitive teenagers and young adults who are so insecure about who they are as a person that they look at a disorder that developed from childhood trauma, developed from things adults can't ever possibly imagine going through, and go "I want that", I pity you. I hope you have a good life, one that treats you better than whatever led you to a point that made you think like this, but it's time to grow up.
We have been through unimaginable, we have split and fragmented to stay alive. We can't even function alone anymore from all the fragmentation, at least not fully.
If you want DID, smash a bowl on the ground first and try to drink soup from it. Doesn't work, huh? All your doing is taking all the glue for that bowl from people who never meant to break their bowl in the first place. Now imagine there's a major glue shortage and you have to drive over two hours to get a single bottle of glue. Yeah. Let us have our spaces without fear of being romanticized, damn it.
I'm so tired of constantly seeing people's interpretations of this, of us. Especially when we are at some of our lowest points. It's not pretty. Flashbacks, missing time, missing years, people you don't recognize, places you don't recognize, enough panic attacks to power an entire town for 24 hours, to nothing. To being completely normal. To having to try and explain that to medical professionals who don't even believe in the disorder in the first place because before the online epidemic, there was the criminal epidemic.
Don't you see how shitty it is to pretend to have this, or do you just not care?
Considering I see so many people get defensive, people who are so quick to try to justify themselves, you know what you're doing is wrong, but why do it? Clout, time passer, attention, cover up for something else you have going on?
Open your eyes, DID is a disorder. Dissociative identity disorder. Hell, half of you don't even know that's what DID stands for, and that really shows that mental health educators have done a shit job, that or you only listen to people like me on some shitty app and use that as your research.
For fucks sake, if you need research links, come to my inbox and ask, just please listen to people who are actually certified, not Tumblr user blah blah blah.
Thank you for reading.
323 notes ¡ View notes
mostlycompetentwriter ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Wow, he’s hot
“Pairing: Fem!Reader x Seo Changbin (SKZ)
Word Count: 8K
Genre: Neighbors to Lovers? Lol
Warnings: Aged up characters (Changbin is ten years older than the reader), explicit sexual content, language, drinking
Summary: You were a fresh college graduate, returning home for the summer before starting a bright, shiny new position in the city, but you certainly weren’t expecting to fall hard for your neighbor. 
A/N: I hope at least one person gets my reference/pun at the end....But seriously? Oh, what have I done...
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Your roommate was hungover again, dressed to the nines in a purple bathrobe and pink fluffy slippers as she attempted to move huge boxes of random shit between her bedroom and the foyer of your shared apartment. 
It was priceless entertainment, at least in your opinion, especially after witnessing your roommate in rare form the previous night dancing from one frat boy to the next, draining entire bottles of alcohol like she needed the liquid encouragement. 
From what you had observed, she was determined to embarrass you at all costs, and under normal circumstances, you could’ve avoided her rather inappropriate behavior in exchange for your regular hook-up, Joshua. But he decided to remain mysteriously absent for the entire evening, which meant that you had been stuck watching over your roommate, hoping that she wouldn’t get you kicked out again....
“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N,” Laura huffed, pausing next to the counter-top where you sat. “What did you expect? It was my last night of freedom before going back home.”
“Yeah,” you snorted. “It was mine too, but I wasn’t plastered face-down in the shower last night.”
“Whatever,” Laura grimaced. “Did you sign off on the lease yet?”
“I did it earlier,” you replied. 
“Our bitchy landlord’s been complaining all week,” Laura said. “I’m tired of her late-night phone calls, plus my mom’s been really annoying about the move.”
“Oh?” you questioned. “When is she coming?”
“In like an hour,” Laura huffed. “Why do you think I’m busting my ass to pack everything?”
“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe you needed a distraction from thinking about puking in the bushes behind the frat house last night.”
“Oh, shut up about that!” Laura hissed, slapping your arm as you kept laughing. “Isn’t you brother coming tomorrow?”
“Ugh, yeah,” you groaned. “He said he has to come super early because of work, but my ass doesn’t start functioning until at least 8:00.”
“Well, at least tell Chan ‘hi’ for me,” Laura said, giggling like a love-struck teenager because she had been infatuated with your older brother for years.
“If I remember to tell him,” you grumbled, stretching out your arms and deciding that it might be useful for you to start packing as well, especially since the most you would be able to accomplish tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn is following Chan around the apartment in a zombie-like state as the two of you loaded your belongings into his car.
“Don’t forget that I’m coming to visit next week,” Laura said, and you perked up a little at the idea of having your friend come around, especially since the two of you had just graduated together and those long days and nights of being glued together at the hip were coming to a bittersweet end.
“Sounds good,” you agreed, checking your phone one last time to see a weird gif from Chan (as you had come to expect from him) before joining your roommate in packing up the remainder of your former college life.
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Chan had always been prompt when it came to his familial obligations, and the two of you spent two hours loading all of your stuff into his car before starting the long drive to your old childhood home. A place that you hadn’t ventured to since leaving four years ago to start undergraduate school.
“Looks the same,” you remarked, sunglasses perched low on your nose as you allowed the window to roll down to take in some fresh air.
“What did you expect?” Chan asked, humming away to whatever shitty metal song he had playing over the radio.
In a totally random and last-minute decision, you had decided that for the next three summer months while you were stuck in an in-between phase, you were returning home for a while before you were set to move into a new apartment in the city close to where you would be working full-time. It seemed logical to save money, and there was a small part of you that did miss your family and old friends. 
Of course, despite Chan’s dismissal of your earlier nonchalant comment about the unchanging surroundings of your hometown, you were startled when you realized that the old house next door, which used to be occupied by an elderly couple until they moved away during your senior year of high school, was missing it’s familiar ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard, and there was a black Mustang in the driveway.
“Home sweet home,” Chan sighed when he stopped in the carport attached to your former two-story staccato, opening the door with a grumble. 
You frowned, following him around to the back of his car. “Someone bought the house next door?” you asked, dragging your eyes away from the sleek, shiny sports car to look at your brother.
Chan grunted as he heaved your suitcase from the trunk. “Yeah, they moved in last month. I think the owner is a lawyer and he lives there with his daughter.”
“Huh,” you remarked. “That house has been vacant for years.”
Chan shrugged. “Yeah, well, the guy who lives there now is really nice. Mom and dad babysit for him a lot when he’s working.”
“Great,” I muttered. “They’ll rope me into helping.”
“S’ not so bad,” Chan said, growling in frustration when your suitcase fell over to the side with an unpleasant crash. “Can you help or what?”
You laughed at your brother’s outrage, reaching back to pull your hair into a messy bun. 
Meanwhile, you noticed the front door of your house opening from the corner of your eye, smiling when your mother shrieked and rushed down the sidewalk to meet you halfway in a long-winded embrace. “Y/N!! I’m so glad to see you.”
“You’re crushing me,” you heaved through constricted lungs, accepting your mother’s open arms even if it was a little over-eager.
“Oh! I’m sorry, dear,” she said, pulling back just enough to allow oxygen to circulate once again, but not enough to pull you away from her mushy kisses. “You look so healthy and beautiful!”
“Yeah, thanks mom,” you said, slowly beginning the untangling process of removing her arms from around you while Chan struggled in the background to carry your suitcase up the front steps. “I should help.”
“Of course!” your mom agreed, but a distant tug of curiosity had you turning back to look at the house next door once again.
“Hey? Do you know anything about the new neighbor?”
“You mean Changbin? He’s wonderful, darling. So polite, and his daughter is so funny.”
You wrinkled your nose, never having been a huge fan of kids. “Chan said you babysit for him sometimes.”
“It’s always nice to help someone out,” your mother tsked, and you could recognize her patronizing tone from anywhere. “Such a shame that he divorced his wife. Heard it was kinda nasty.”
“It’s not any of our business,” you reminded her.
“Oh, I didn’t say it was!” your mother sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it much.”
“Jeez, how much do you guys talk?”
Because from the sound of it, Changbin had to be as old as your mom to make this much of an impression. You grinned as you briefly imagined the two of them on the front porch drinking tea together and gossiping about the rest of the neighborhood.
“He’s far more friendly than Mrs. Jones was,” your mother remarked. “I think you’d like him, Y/N.”
“I don’t know about that...”
“Well, you’ll get the chance to meet him tonight,” your mother said, smile full and wide. “I’ve invited him over for dinner!”
Oh, great.
“Can’t wait,” you forced out between clenched teeth, rolling your eyes when your mom clapped her hands together before grabbing your hand to drag you inside, feeling only a distant shiver roll across your spine as you walked onto the porch as if someone was looking at you from afar....
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Your mother was hardly the type to run out of conversation, and you eventually were forced to leave her downstairs to argue with Chan over some menial thing that he forgot to do for tonight’s big dinner while you trudged upstairs to find some peace.
Unsurprisingly, your childhood bedroom remained untouched, and you circled around the perimeter, studying old pictures of yourself playing sports and hanging out with friends. Fingers dusting over your collection of old trophies and high-school yearbooks that recalled long-ago days of feeling carefree - with the future wide-open in front of you for the taking.
But you were well off in the present, allowing yourself to indulge in the nostalgia of looking through old diaries and journals before your mother’s voice called you downstairs for dinner later that evening. “Coming!” you called back, pausing next to your mirror to check your reflection.
The smell of your mother’s cooking had your stomach rumbling from the hunger of only stopping once on the way home to eat cheap fast-food with Chan, and you forced yourself to walk like a normal person even though every instinct was screaming at you to find the source of that delicious odor.
You were nearly salivating at the idea of your mother’s homemade cooking, and your hand caught the rail of the bannister to turn the final corner, but the sounds of voices from below forced you to pause at the top of the stairs, eyes growing wide as you took in the sight of the unfamiliar man standing in your foyer, talking to your mother like they had known each other for years. “Oh, Y/N,” your mother said, and you shivered when the man turned to look at you. “Come meet our neighbor, Changbin. I think you’ll really like him.”
You held back a snort at the ironic comment because it only took you a few seconds to come to the conclusion that Changbin epitomized the phrase “just my type.”
He was on the shorter side, built like he had literally spent his entire life working out, arms bulging beneath his t-shirt and chest straining the material tight to his front. So much so that you could practically see his nipples through the fabric. 
His hair was jet-black, ruffled from the wind outside, and his eyes were equally as dark, lips contorted into a self-satisfied smirk that you found exceedingly hot.
“Hi,” you mustered without much thought, nearly tripping over your own two feet on the way down the stairs.
“This is my daughter, Y/N,” your mother said, inviting you closer so that you were standing directly in front of Changbin.
“Nice to meet you,” he said in a deep voice that was slightly rough around the edges.
“Y/N just graduate from college,” your mother gushed. “We’re so excited to have her back.”
“I’m home for the summer,” you explained, shivering at the dark look in Changbin’s gaze. “I’m starting an internship in the Fall.”
“Y/N will be working in publishing,” your mother explained, jumping in while you and Changbin continued to stare each other down - something intense and provocative.
“Really?” Changbin asked, eyes making a leisurely stroll of looking you up and in down in a way that had you feeling extremely self-conscious. 
“Oh! Give me one second to check something in the kitchen,” your mother said, excusing herself with a smile before leaving the two of you alone in the foyer.
You inwardly cursed your mother for leaving you both in an awkward silence. Say something!! You screamed to yourself.
“So,” you started, clearing your throat and forcing yourself to stop swaying back and forth. “Chan told me you practice law.”
“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, and you swooned at his crooked smile. “It doesn’t sound as interesting as your work.”
“I don’t know about that,” you countered politely, but Changbin was unrelenting.
“You looked surprised to see me earlier,” he remarked.
You swallowed hard. “Oh, well when Chan mentioned a neighbor with a kid, I just wasn’t expecting someone so....”
“Yes?” Changbin prodded, encouraging you to continue.
Someone so fucking hot, you thought to yourself, someone who was literally made inside my best fantasies, but those explicit thoughts belonged exclusively inside your head. “Young,” you eventually finished, and Changbin seemed disappointed for some reason.
“I’m 32,” he said, and your eyes widened perceptibly, realizing that he was ten years older than you.
“I would’ve never guessed,” you said. “I mean, not that it’s a bad thing-”
“It’s alright,” Changbin interrupted, and you were relieved to hear him chuckle. “I know what you mean.”
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can be a little awkward.”
“No,” he shook his head, coming to stand a little closer. “I think it’s nice.”
Oh? What was that supposed to mean?
“I used to have a boyfriend who looked a lot like you,” you went on, freezing when you comprehended what you had just blathered without thinking.
But Changbin didn’t seem bothered at all. “I bet he wasn’t as old as me.”
“He was my age,” you said. “But I kinda like older men...”
Fuck. Did those words really just come out of your mouth?!
“Y/N,” Changbin said, and you trembled at the huskiness of his tone. “You should be more careful.” He leaned in then as if trying to keep whatever he was about to say a secret for just the two of you. “I can be a very dangerous man.”
“O-oh,” you stuttered, finding yourself two seconds away from literally melting at his feet when your mother suddenly re-entered the foyer with a dusting of flour across her chin. 
“Dinner’s ready!” she announced, and you were fleeing behind her without a second thought, escaping the intoxicating hold of Changbin’s presence before you did something you might regret.
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For whatever reason, you found yourself sitting next to Changbin in the dining room for dinner that night. 
“I made chicken,” your mother said, gesturing to each dish sitting in a line down the center of the table as she explained tonight’s menu. But you were barely cognizant of what your mother was saying because the close proximity to Changbin was doing very strange things to your head.
“So, Y/N,” your father started when everyone had been served. “I hope your brother was helpful with the move.”
Chan rolled his eyes, but you grinned at your father’s words. “Yeah, I was a little out of it though because of the time.”
“Like I said,” Chan huffed. “I couldn’t get there any later.”
“Let the bickering commence,” your mother said. “Changbin, you wouldn’t believe the fights these two had when they were young.”
“I can only imagine,” Changbin said, and you were wondering how someone could be even more attractive by the sound of their voice alone.
“Do you still need us to babysit for you tomorrow night?” your mother asked. “We would be more than accommodating.”
“That would be great,” Changbin said. “I’ve got a late conference call.”
“It’s no problem,” your mother continued. “Your daughter is just the loveliest.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Changbin replied.
“Y/N,” your mother said, catching you with a mouthful of chicken. “Changbin’s daughter is such a peach.”
You quickly forced down the food in your mouth when you felt Changbin’s gaze rest on you. “Oh? How hold is she, Mr. Seo?”
“She’s six,” Changbin said, and he shifted in his chair, causing your knees to brush together in a move that you knew wasn’t intentional, even if it didn’t stop your legs from wrapping together. “And you don’t have to be so formal with me, Y/N. Only my clients call me Mr. Seo.”
“O-oh,” you exhaled, reacting to the brief contact under the table, hoping that nobody else was noticing your strange behavior.
“Maybe Y/N could help watch Lucy when you’re gone,” your mother suggested, always the first to rope you into these things.
“Sure,” you agreed, even though the idea of pulling babysitting duty was less than appealing, and you could hear Chan snickering from across the table. He knew perfectly well your attitude when it came to kids. 
“I think Lucy would like that,” Changbin agreed, and you started to nod along until you felt Changbin’s hand move to your thigh.
Just that single move had your entire form frozen in place. 
While your mother continued talking about whatever subject caught her attention, you were left wondering how you should react to the very obvious posturing of Changbin’s hand moving decidedly against your bare skin.
“I’ll probably head back into town tomorrow morning,” Chan said. “I wasn’t able to get much work done.”
You knew it was a playful jab at you, but at that moment you were incapable of coherent speech.
“How is work, Channie?” your mother asked, just as ignorant as the rest of them to the situation unfolding beneath her table. “Anything interesting?”
“Not really,” Chan replied, and you nearly choked on the food you were swallowing when you felt Changbin squeezing your thigh. 
“Try to chew it first, Y/N,” your father chuckled, and you forced a smile which you hoped wasn’t as strained as it felt.
“What about you, Changbin?” your mother politely queried. “Anything interesting happening lately?”
“Maybe,” he said with a tone that was far too knowing.
“Hmmm?” your mother smiled. “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”
You knew the question was invasive, but Changbin handled it in stride. “I think it depends.”
“Sounds scandalous,” your mother joked, and you couldn’t have possibly been imagining it, feeling his fingers reach so high under the opening of your shorts that his fingertips touched the outline of your panties. 
You reached down to cover his hand with your own, bringing awareness to the fact that you weren’t ignoring what was happening, and he had every opportunity to pull back.
But he didn’t. In fact, Changbin’s light, playful touches only continued, and you were left reeling for what the intention could possibly mean.
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Early the next morning, you were supposed to be cleaning the pool as a favor to your mother, but how could you be blamed for sneaking peaks at your neighbor working out in his backyard? 
“Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath, failing to do a very good job of pretending to be occupied with your current task while ogling the man across the lawn who was in the middle of another round of push-ups, biceps flexing while the rest of his body practically glowed under the sun. 
You knew it wasn’t a crime to permit the occasional glance, but your hardcore staring could certainly be qualified as spying at this point (especially in the direction of a lawyer) - making it blatantly obvious that you were very appreciative of the male form at the peak of performance.
Was Changbin seriously 32? And a father?
The questions boggled your mind, and in your distracted state, you clearly forgot to keep a firm hold on the handle of the pool’s leaf skimmer, huffing in annoyance when it splashed beneath the water.
It was enough to attract Changbin’s attention, and you were sure that your face was just as red as the towel draped over the back of your mother’s patio furniture when he stood to his full height before walking in your direction.
“Were you watching me?” Changbin asked, sauntering over to you with black mesh shorts hanging tantalizingly low on his hips, shirt foregone in exchange for a delightful sheen of sweat coating the skin of his thick upper torso in dripping rivulets. 
“Uh...” you trailed off anxiously, realizing that Changbin wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for your half-assed excuses, especially after what had happened between the two of you last night. 
“You’re not planning on lying to me, Y/N?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in question.
“N-no, Mr. Seo,” you said, shaking your head quickly, barely keeping a firm grasp of your bearings as he abruptly leaned in closer, musk hanging heavy in the air between the two of you. 
“I told you not to call me that,” he said, lips lingering far too close to your ear for a simple neighborly exchange, and you could feel the body heat emanating from him in waves, holding you completely hostage as you briefly entertained the idea of falling to your knees right then and there. 
“What should I call you?” you asked instead, fisting your shirt between your hands because you were desperate for something to ground you in that moment. 
You could practically feel his smirk, holding in a gasp when his hand settled at the low dip in your spine, fitting into the space there as he pulled you tight against his front. “You can always call me daddy instead.”
Your heart skipped several beats at the scandalous words. Either that or you had just entered cardiac arrest.
But before you could muster a response, you found yourself leaping out of Changbin’s hold when the backdoor opened, and your mother was screaming out your name while waving like a maniac. “Oh!” she said when she realized that you weren’t alone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”
“We were just talking,” you quickly inserted, glancing at Changbin from the corner of your eye to see him smirking. 
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For a while, the very strange flirtation between you and Changbin simmered down, and you tried your best to avoid him when you could, even if he made that very hard to do since he insisted on doing his morning workouts outside in direct line of your bedroom.
It was during the following week that you brought the divine glory of Changbin to your friend, Laura’s, attention, ushering her into your house when she parked on the side of street. “What the hell, Y/N?” she complained when you started practically dragging her up the stairs. “I’ve been driving for hours.”
“Oh, hush,” you said. “You’ll thank me later.”
“Thank you for what, exactly?” Laura questioned, but your response was to simply push her toward the window, standing side by side as you looked through the blinds.
“My new neighbor.”
“Holy fuck!” Laura gasped when she finally joined you, and you could only nod your agreement as the two of you continued to watch Changbin through two narrow breaks in your blinds, wondering how the image of your sexy neighbor simply mowing his grass could make you so wet. “That man is huge!”
“I think he does it on purpose,” you remarked, feeling your heart palpitate inside your chest when Changbin took a moment to pause his chore, reaching down to remove his shirt and tuck it into the waistband of his shorts.
Laura’s gasp was almost outlandishly laughable. “He’s ripped! Like, Sports Illustrated model worthy.”
“I would buy every last copy of that edition.”
“I’d even go a step further and tape the pictures to my wall.”
You both stopped to look at one another, nodding in your collective agreement. “Not here, though, my mom would freak.”
“Yeah, but how can your mom expect you to just ignore...that!” Laura exclaimed, gesturing wildly to Changbin. 
“She thinks he’s a fucking Saint, but I swear to god, Laura, he’s provoking me on purpose! The other night at dinner? He came over and put. his. hand. on. my. leg,” you said, emphasizing the last line with what probably looked like a comical widening of your eyes. “And he works out every morning in front of my bedroom? What the hell am I supposed to think?”
“No think,” Laura sighed dreamily. “Just enjoy the view.”
“Do you think I’m not?” you snorted. “I’m serious about him doing those things!”
“So what?” Laura grumbled. “Why are you actually worried that your fucking super model neighbor wants to make a few moves on you? I would be honored.”
“I’m not worried,” you huffed. “It just feels like he wants something from me.”
“Well, if it’s a good fuck, then send him all the signals you can, girl.”
“Really?” you muttered. “You know I suck with flirting. That’s why I only hooked up with Joshua at those stupid frat parties. He didn’t care that I was an awkward mess.”
“Well, neither will your neighbor,” Laura said. “Especially if he’s as interested as you say.”
You pursed your lips, considering her comment, but the sudden and unexpected sound of your door opening sent both you and Laura jumping nearly ten feet into the air as you hurried away from the blinds as fast as humanely possible to take up some form of normalcy.
No, mom, of course we weren’t staring at Mr. Seo.
“Girls,” your mother inquired as she walked inside, and you prayed that your mother hadn’t caught the two of you taking sly peaks at Changbin outside, but she seemed completely ignorant. “I have a question for you.”
“Hmmm?” you inquired, innocently enough, trying to act like the position that you had forced yourself into on the bed was totally not uncomfortable.
“Changbin needs someone to watch Lucy tomorrow night, but your father and I already made plans,” she said. “But I told him you would be more than happy to come over and help him out.”
You winced when Laura elbowed you in the side, giving you one of those looks that you knew quite well from countless nights of barhopping as sophomores. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” Laura snickered, but you payed her no attention as you hurried to close the door behind your mother’s retreating form, breathing a sigh of relief to hear her walk back down the stairs.
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In all of your years of existence, never had you questioned the appropriateness of an outfit to wear to someone’s place to babysit.
“Fuck it,” you eventually decided, settling on regular, well-worn jeans and a college t-shirt.
After all, it wasn’t like Changbin was staying for very long. He claimed he had something to do at the office, and you would be all alone inside his house with only his kid for companionship.
Still, after your conversation with Laura from the previous afternoon, you couldn’t help but feel more mindful about how he might look at you, and you forced yourself to wear your most professional smile when you rang the doorbell to his house, counting slowly from one until he opened the door.
“Hi, Y/N,” Changbin said, and you tried not to blatantly check him out; although, you couldn’t help but linger on the tight fit of his shirt across his pecs.
“Hello,” you nearly whispered, cursing your hormones as you followed Changbin inside.
“I actually have something to tell you,” Changbin said, leading you into the living room so that you could sit down while entered the adjoining kitchen.
“Oh?” you queried, as politely as you could, waiting for him to return.
It didn’t take him long, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter from where you had made yourself comfortable on the couch. “So, I actually found someone else to watch Lucy,” Changbin explained, coming around to land next to you on the couch with two glasses of wine. 
“You did?” you asked, surprised and taken-aback. 
Why were you here then?
As if he could read your thoughts, Changbin smirked. “Thirsty?”
“Sure,” you agreed, taking one of the glasses and bringing the rim up to your lips. “I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted me to watch her.”
“I did,” Changbin said, and he seemed contemplative as he sipped his own drink. “But then I kinda wanted you for something else.”
“Something else?” you repeated because your mind was spinning those simple words in a thousand different directions, and you were only able to settle on one likely outcome when Changbin’s hand dropped to your thigh, reminiscent of your first dinner together from several evenings ago. 
He suddenly moved in closer to you, allowing you to smell the subtle cologne that he was wearing. “You’ve been watching me,” he said, and you shivered, feeling both hot and cold at the same time as you looked at him.
“S-sir?”
“Don’t play coy,” Changbin continued, and you found yourself observing the way his throat bobbed as he drank. “I don’t mind the attention.”
“You don’t?” you replied, a rather useless question considering the circumstances, and Changbin took your glass and sat both alcoholic selections onto the side table.
“Why wouldn’t I like it?” he asked, tracing little nonsensical patterns on the covered part of your thigh. “You’re a very beautiful girl.”
What. The. Hell?!!
“Mr. Seo, I don’t think-”
“Y/N,” Changbin interrupted, and you were so frazzled and disjointed by the sharp grip he took on your chin, forcing eye-contact that was so intimate, you could feel yourself grow a little bit wetter. “I told you not to call me that.”
It was the only precursor you got before Changbin was delving in, gripping your chin firmly as he connected your lips in a deep, sensuous exchange that had you reeling from the sudden 180 degree turn that the night had taken. 
In one word: everything was rough. Teeth meeting teeth, and tongues rolling in a messy glide against one another. Wet and warm. Silky and smooth. It was everything you needed in a kiss to get your gears turning, feeling your pussy positively throbbing in response.
“That’s right,” Changbin eventually said when he pulled the two of you apart - very much still in control. “We shouldn’t ignore this tension between us.”
“No,” you eagerly agreed, diving in once more for another earth-shattering kiss that rocked you to your very bones, taking the initiative to crawl into his lap, grinding yourself shamelessly against the tight bulge in his jeans while your fingers dug their way into his thick, dark hair. 
“Eager,” Changbin whispered between feverish kisses, keeping your mouths locked together at all costs, even if that meant growing a little bit light-headed from losing too much oxygen.
But you couldn’t get enough of him, not after all this teasing and tension. 
You didn’t care anymore, consequences be damned, and there wasn’t a single part of you opposing his intentional touches, giving him enough space to unbutton your jeans before sliding one hand beneath the waistband of your panties. In response, you moaned into his mouth, bracing your hands against his shoulders as he found the delicate folds of your pussy.
“Do you want me to touch you here?” Changbin asked, and you were feverishly nodding, sweat forming at the top of your forehead, trying your best to hold back your loudest moans when he slid right in with little resistance, moving his fingers around the inside of your cunt, stretching and filling you in a way that you imagined was nothing compared to what the thick cock beneath you could do.
But you would take anything from him, savoring the glide of his fingers since you were practically drenching him in sticky arousal, jerking forward every so often when his thumb pressed down a little too hard against your clit.
All the while, you could feel yourself start to break apart from the heated contact between the two of you, aching and wanting for the release that the look in his eyes told you he had every intention of providing.
And you were enjoying every bit of the journey to get there, bathing in his attention, groaning when his fingers curled up just right to tease your g-spot, and grinding down against the erection confined tightly in his jeans. 
Everything was suddenly so much louder, the sounds of his palm smacking against your cunt, fingers gliding through wetness, and the joined harmony of your combined moans and grunts. 
It was a rapid uphill ascent into the clouds, and you could feel him start to move even faster, pulling against the fabric of your jeans, and there was hardly any time for your mind to truly comprehend what was happening. Lost in a sinful haze of lust and divine rapture, wanting nothing more than to just lose yourself in Changbin.
Except he wasn’t letting you simply drown in the pleasure he was giving you, tugging at your hair to bring you back to the present, to the final string keeping your orgasm just out of reach. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Changbin growled into your ear, keeping one hand tight around your waist to stop your squirming as he continued plunging his thick fingers between the tight walls of your pussy. “I see you looking at me because I want you to look.”
You moaned at the explicit expression of his desires, closing your eyes and returning your head against his shoulder, hips titillating according to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. 
“Cum for me,” he said, and you were more than willing to let go of everything, including the moans you had been trying to hold back, filling the house with the loud raucous of your screams as your orgasm snapped and unleashed a molten hot thrill along your spine.
You were gasping for breath, returning from the highest peak of satisfaction, but Changbin hardly gave you anytime to recover before he was removing his hand from your jeans and forcing you into the floor.
“My turn,” he grunted, and the sound of his belt unbuckling triggered some semblance of rationale, and you were practically salivating over Changbin’s cock, eyeing the red bulbous mushroom head and wondering how deep you could take him. “Well?” Changbin prodded, grabbing the base of his thick erection to brush it across the pout of your lips. “Open wide.”
You whimpered, but obeyed, allowing your tongue to stick out just enough to taste the drop of precum leaking from the tip. It was bitter and unappealing, but since it was from Changbin, you couldn’t resist trying more of him, going further and further down until you felt him at the back of your throat.
Your jaw was already aching from the extension, and a distant thought had you thinking, damn, you were gonna be sore in the morning. But it was completely worth it to hear him moan from above you, fingers tightening in your hair as you allowed him to set the pace, rolling you up and down his cock, tongue sweeping the sides and tip and digging into the little slit where you discovered he was the most sensitive. 
At the same time, you were all but humping his leg, desperate to get off again as he used your mouth for his own personal cocksleeve, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, sending you gagging around his impossible length.
“You take cock like you were made for it,” he remarked, eyes glossing over in a way that had you feeling rather proud of your skills. 
It only lasted for a moment, and he abruptly held himself all the way down for one, two, three seconds until you were whining for him to let you free just long enough to take in another deep breath. 
“Finish me off,” he groaned, and you were working overtime to bring him to the edge, bobbing your head up and down the full expanse of his length, all gorgeous and velvety smooth skin. And you braced your hands against his knees, an anchor to reality, when he finally released down your throat, heavy and warm, causing you to nearly choke as you struggled to swallow every last drop.
“Good girl,” he whispered, petting your head softly as you whined and continued to rub yourself against him, jumping off the brink of orgasmic bliss right after him, allowing your head to fall down between his spread legs.
It was a quiet for a while as you both fought to catch your breath, but then he was moving again, rising from his position on the couch. 
You sat back on your heels at the jostling, whimpering when he stood over you with a menacing sneer, grabbing your face between his hands, forcing your gazes to meet somewhere in the middle even though you still couldn’t completely concentrate. But you were cognizant to at least understand his next words: “Lucy won’t be here tomorrow night, either.”
“Changbin,” you gasped, understanding the implications of his request and shivering at the effect they could still have on your worn-out body. 
“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered into your ear, keeping eye-contact as he brought his fingers still coated with your arousal into his mouth, sucking while you grew faint at the sight. Then, he pulled them free and knelt down to sear your lips together so that you could taste the riveting combination of your releases on his wicked tongue. 
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You returned home that night in a daze, immediately heading for your room after assuring your mother that everything was totally fine with the babysitting, even if you probably appeared a little out of sorts. 
In the meantime, you landed on top of your bed with a sigh, opening your phone contacts to pull up Laura’s name, placing the call without any mind to the late hour.
She answered on the third ring with a curt grunt. “This better be good, Y/N.”
“Oh?” you replied with a nonchalant tone. “I thought you might be interested in hearing about my latest dick appointment.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You didn’t.”
“I did!”
“With your neighbor?”
You laughed at Laura’s shrill tone, rolling over onto your stomach with your feet dancing in the air behind you. “I totally sucked him off.” 
“Shit! How big is his cock?” Laura whispered over the phone as if anybody could possibly overhear your conversation. 
“Let’s just say he’s well-endowed.”
“You absolute slut!” Laura exclaimed. “Did he at least return the favor?”
“Oh, he’s a gentleman,” you explained. “He took care of me first.”
“Details!”
“He just fingered me,” you said, even as your mind sprinted with images and sensations; Changbin’s sultry gaze, defined muscles, and the burning desire he had planted deep in your core. 
“That’s hot though,” Laura said. “I can’t believe you actually did anything with him.”
“What? I told you he was sending me signals!”
“Yeah, but I was only halfway assuming that those signals might lead to his fingers in you!”
You couldn’t help yourself, laughing at Laura’s incredulous tone, and spending the next several minutes doing your absolute best to provide a heavily detailed play-by-play of your evening tryst with Changbin. 
“Lucky bitch,” Laura scoffed at the end of your long-winded tale. “I’d kill for someone to fuck me.”
“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet...”
“Yet? Are you planning to go back to him?”
“Obviously,” you said. “There’s unfinished business that I need to take care of.”
“You think he wants to fuck you?”
“I think he wants to do a lot to me,” you purred, smirking at the sounds of Laura’s outlandish squeals from the other end.
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Still, you didn’t think those explicit fantasies would come to fruition so soon. But the next night when you returned to Changbin’s house under the guise of babysitting his kid, there were no formalities between the two of you because you both wanted each other in a way that should be considered improper. 
Fortunately, you were tired of caring about other people’s opinions, and it only took Changbin a moment to pull you into his house before his lips were crushing against yours, holding you around the waist as he started working at your clothes.
If whiplash was a thing in moments like these, then you had it bad, trying to follow the taste of him as he backed you both into the bedroom, closing the door and enveloping you both in the gentle glow from the lamp.
“Get on the bed,” Changbin growled when he finally pulled away, reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. You swallowed hard at the sight of his broad, toned upper form, stumbling backward along the floor, hopping on one leg to finish removing your jeans for him, leaving you completely naked as you lowered yourself onto the mattress. “Good girl,” Changbin cooed, and you shivered at the huskiness of his voice, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he blatantly traced the outline of his cock through his jeans.
“Changbin, please,” you panted, already so worked up from just kissing and feeling his hands all over your body that you were desperate for something more.
“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, walking slowly around to the front of the bed as you watched him with eager eyes.
“Want you to fuck me,” you said, heart thundering against your chest when he started working apart his belt, pulling down his jeans and boxers and allowing his thick cock to slap up against his abdomen, already so hard for you even though you had just started.
“Hands and knees,” Changbin ordered, and you were surprised by your quick compliance, supporting yourself on shaky limbs as you felt him climb on the bed behind you, tensing when the head of his cock grazed your wet opening. “Look at you,” Changbin rumbled, teasing you even more by running his fingers down your spine, allowing his other hand to reach around to grope your breast.
“Hurry,” you practically begged him, and it was like the metaphorical band had finally snapped, and you moaned when Changbin took a firm hold of your hips, manhandling you back into position. 
“Good girls say please,” he snarled, and your entire form light up at the abrupt command.
“P-please,” you stuttered, and there was an unholy line of curses that left your lips when he directed his cock inside, penetrating you so slowly that you could feel every inch of him until he was snug against your ass.
“Since you asked nicely,” Changbin chuckled, and you had never been so turned on before in your entire life, heart racing and blood pumping, bracing yourself against the mattress when he started thrusting, gentle at first, but then faster and faster as you egged him on, wanting him to go so hard that he split you in half around his cock. 
“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, struggling to maintain any sort of grip on the headboard. 
“You’ve been holding out on me,” Changbin purred into your ear, sounding perfectly put-together despite the fact that he was literally drilling his cock into you. “All those guys you’ve fucked before, I would think your pussy wouldn’t be this tight.”
“You’re just too big,” you managed, crying out when he grazed a sensitive spot. 
“Oh? Is that why this little pussy is leaking so much?” Changbin asked, and you had no response for him, clearly fucked out of all rational thought as his hips slapped against yours in a bruising meeting of skin-on-skin. 
It was undeniable: you had never felt this full before...like Changbin’s cock was somehow reaching all the way to your guts, and you reached down to place a hand over your stomach, imagining feeling the bulge of his cock against the distended skin.
“How does daddy feel?” Changbin whispered into your ear, and if it was possible for him to literally destroy you, then it would be from that heavily suggestive question.
“So good,” you sniffled, tears falling inhibited, leaving your face just as wet as the place where he was crushing himself into you, repeating the same motion of leaving just the tip before re-entering you with added urgency, cock forcing its way between the slick walls of your cunt. 
It was a beautiful melodic song after that (or, perhaps, hard metal would be a much better genre), the rhythm of his hips rolling against your own, hard and then softer, bruising and fleeting, stuffing your pussy on every upstroke, holding you in place by his pure strength. 
You could feel that strength everywhere, the force of his cock squelching between your pulsating walls, the way you moved up and down the bed by his control, and, when you reached back with one hand to feel his arm, the flex of his biceps as his arms worked to move you however he pleased.
“What will your mother say, Y/N?” Changbin asked. “When she finds out that her daughter fucked the man next door?”
Your mother would absolutely lose her shit if she found out that you were willingly spreading your legs for a divorced 32-year old man who had a daughter you were meant to be babysitting. She would be even more taken aback to discover that you loved and craved every second of Changbin’s cock tearing you to pieces, stretching you so good that you imagined that you would still be gaping in the morning, desperate to have him fill you again. 
“Her little girl screaming like a slut for me,” Changbin hissed. “Say my name, Y/N.”
“C-Changbin,” you whimpered, feeling him roll to a slower pace, merely grinding his hips in circles as if teasing you for the answer.
You flinched and nearly cried when he smacked the fleshy part of your ass, trying to look back over your shoulder to see what you had done wrong. “Try again,” he said, giving you a meaningful look that your poor, fucked-out brain still managed to decipher; although, you were burning in your own skin at the thought of saying it out loud....
“Daddy!” you moaned, and Changbin suddenly reached down to catch a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing your back into an even deeper arch. 
“That’s right,” he sneered. “And Daddy’s about to ruin this pussy, fuck it so full of my cum that you’ll still be feeling it when you go back home tonight to your parents and lie about what you’ve done.”
Your next moan was the loudest of the night, overwhelmed by the nasty things he was saying to you, feeling your orgasm gaining speed and traction the longer he kept fucking you, cock moving at a neck-break pace, and fingers wet and hurried over your clit.
The combined friction of his cock and fingers had you reeling, struggling to keep yourself up as he pummeled you into the mattress. Taking great liberties in the screams he was forcing out of you, realizing that if he angled his hips with one of your legs stretched higher around his hip, then he could somehow reach even deeper, kissing your cervix and threatening to steal the breath from your lungs. 
More and More. Faster and Faster. Until the breaking point was right under your nose...
The next thing you remember is a release that was so intense, you managed to black-out when it was all over, pussy fluttering around the distinct waves of pleasure, barely coherent as Changbin continued chasing his own release until he fulfilled his obscene promise to you. 
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Three Weeks Later
You had gotten awfully good at keeping Changbin a secret - a dirty and scandalous whisper at that. 
For a while, your mother questioned your insistence on going over to your neighbor’s house to babysit, especially considering your history of being less than willing to interact with children.
“She’s not like most kids,” you lied, waiting for your mother to relent before grabbing whatever bag you needed consisting of your overnight clothes, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible when you walked over to Changbin’s house.
Your mother watched you, at first, standing on the porch as if ensuring that you made it the dozen or so feet separating your yard from that of your neighbor’s. Eventually, she gave up on trying to catch you doing something you weren’t supposed to, but you still kept up appearances, ringing the doorbell and taking a few steps to the side to leave enough room for the screen to rotate on its hinges, offering you the irresistible view of Changbin standing there in all his glory. 
“You’re early,” he remarked; although he seemed to take great pleasure in seeing you as early as possible.
“Is that okay?” you asked with a knowing look, and Changbin chuckled while giving you his most arrogant smirk. 
In return, you smiled back at Changbin, watching him open the door just a little bit wider in invitation.
It was all you needed before surrendering yourself to whatever delicious and mind-blowing ecstasy awaited on you the other side.  
Summer of 69 indeed.
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miiamour ¡ 4 years ago
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Hi!!!! I don’t know if you are taking requests, but could you write some ron weasly angst??? Maybe with a fluff ending? Maybe him making the reader feel insecure or something like that, I don’t know :) Love your writing so much :):)
am i that girl you dream of?
fem!slytherin!reader x ron weasley
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summary: you and ron are in a secret relationship— scared of what others will think, but it still doesn’t stop you from getting insecure when he’s flirted with.
warnings: angst, fluff at the end, mentions of cheating, insecurities in relationship, alcohol, illusions to sex/making out hermione slander but only if you squint.
word count: 1.7k
a/n: eek thank you for the request <3 btw i’m literally 4 away from 200 so hopefully this helps me hit 200!
⊱ ──── ˗ˏˋ✧*♡*✧´ˎ˗ ────⊰
the smell of alcohol lingered throughout the room, along with the slight aroma that sweaty teenagers gave off when they’re dancing against each other. the lights in the gryffindor common room were slightly dimmed with a red tint, but still bright enough to see hermione granger flirting with your boyfriend.
granted, she didn’t know— nobody did, but that didn’t mean she have to grab onto his arm every time time he made a joke. it was upsetting to say the least, but it technically wasn’t your place to say anything but it took every ounce of self control to not walk over there and kiss him, showing everyone that ron belongs to you or ram hermione’s head into the wall; either worked for you.
you and ron had been secretly dating for a few months. you were both terribly afraid of what others thought, him more than you; he was a gryffindor with slytherin hating friends and you were a slytherin.
honestly, it was but fun in the beginning; pretending to hate each other, sneaking around, the thrill of possibly getting caught was exhilarating but now, now it just exhausting. you were tired of simply just hanging out in his dorm when no one was around; you wanted to be able to hold his hand in the halls and go out in hogsmeade dates like regular couples.
at times you questioned if he was ashamed of you but he assured you that he wasn’t— although you weren’t so sure now, it had been months and he had yet to tell a soul about the two of you and he was allowing hermione to hopelessly flirt with him.
to be fair, you weren’t sure if ron was even aware that she was flirting or not. but you, you knew. the whole common room could’ve seen it but ron wouldn’t recognize a flirt attempt if it danced naked in front of him wearing dobby’s tea cozy.
but you couldn’t do anything about it; you simply stood there, watching the boy you weren’t supposed to love but did, as girl— who, now that you think about it, is prettier— flirt with him.
your usual self confidence was being teared down, bit by bit, as you watched hermione bat her eyelids at your boyfriend. your finger danced along the rim of your red solo cup that was previously filled with beer, some muggle alcohol— which is nothing like butterbeer.
you honestly couldn’t blame ron, just look at her; she had perfect smile, big doe like brown eyes, and she was smart— ron always admired that about her. you knew that ron had a crush on hermione prior to the two of you dating but he always assured you that he didn’t have any feelings towards her anymore but watching them flirt gave you doubts.
“hey y/n, you alright?” blaise zabini had interrupted your thoughts, he attempted to look in the direction of your gaze “weasley? why’re you staring at him? you fancy him or something?” he asked teasingly.
“what? no! i’m not staring, i just— just zoned out, that’s all” you lied as you turned to the drink table to pour grab something stronger— firewhiskey.
blaise and you had been bestfriends since your first year, and you hadn’t told him about you and ron. you felt a bit guilty about it but ron always told you that you guys could tell people when the time was right, but the time was never right.
“alright then, but if you do fancy him you better hurry up because seems like him and hermione are going up to his dorm” he said casually while pointing his hand in their direction, ron and hermione were walking up towards the boy dormitory.
you turned so fast, you were sure your neck would’ve snapped. “what!” you felt your face redden and your stomach was doing flips.
“y/n!?” blaise called out after you but you were already half way to ron’s dorm.
your heart beat faster with every step you took, exasperation flooding through your veins. your hand— your body shook as it gripped on the door handle, you quickly prayed that what you thought what was going on, wasn’t actually going on.
you forcefully opened the door, the first thing you see being ron— shirtless. “ronald weasley! what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing!” you yelled out at him as if the door didn’t startle them enough.
“y/n! hey, what— what’re you doing here?” his eyes bulging out of his sockets as he jerks his head towards hermione.
“y/n?” hermione yelled out as she backed up away from ron with a rag in her hand.
you ignored hermione and turned to ron, “what am i doing here? i see you walk up to your dorm with another girl! what do expect me to do?” you walked closer to him, pushing on his bare chest with your finger.
“what? another girl?“ hermione mumbles to herself. “if i may—“ she interjects only for you to put your free hand in her face and shout out, “no!”
“how dare you ron! if you didn’t want to be with me anymore, just say so! merlin, you are infuriating—
“no, love, hermione spilled firewhiskey on my shirt!” he throws his hands up in defense as you kept walking towards him until his legs hit foot of his bed.
“i don’t give a damn if hermione spilled—“ you stopped yourself once you properly processed his words “she spilled firewhiskey on you?” you looked between ron and hermione, she was holding a rag, helping ron get cleaned up.
“yes, darling, firewhiskey; that’s why we came up here and why my shirt’s off” he explained before reaching for another shirt to slip on, and before you could apologize hermione spoke.
“l-love? darling? wait, wait— are you two together?” hermione babbled out like a fish out of water.
“surprise!” ron mocked jazz hands,
“nearly eight months” you add.
hermione’s nostrils flared as she walked up to ron “why. didn’t. you. tell. me.” she hit him with the rag between each word.
“y/n, i apologize if he has done anything stupid in the last eight months; he hadn’t had a girl tell him what he’s doing wrong” she said half-jokingly.
well now you felt worse; you thought hermione had tried to after ron, they really were just friends.
“i’ll leave you two alone now” hermione began to walk out the door, “oh and don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone; secrets safe with me” she said after peering her head through the door and ‘zipping’ her lips together and throwing away the key.
you sat next to ron, your heart was slowing down from the fast pace it was previously going at. after a few moments you started, “i’m sor—“
“i’m sorry” ron interrupted.
“why’re you sorry? i’m the one who went all crazy girlfriend.” you shifted closer to him.
“it’s understandable. if i saw you go up to your dorm with another guy, let’s be honest, i’d be way crazier” he placed a hand on your knee and sparks erupted. you were so sensitive to his touch that even the slightest graze of an elbow when you sat next to each other left your stomach doing flips.
“but i still shouldn’t have. you assured me that you and hermione were just friends and i didn’t believe you— i was just being insecure” you said the last part i’m a quiet voice, slightly hoping that he didn’t hear.
ron moved closer to you and wrapped an arm around you “there is no need to be insecure, you’re the only girl i want to be with”
“am i?” you asked, shifting away from ron.
“what’s that supposed to mean? there aren’t any other girls that flirt with me— right?” ron’s eyebrows furrowed.
“this isn’t about girls flirting won’t you l, i’m just saying— do you really want to be with me? am i that girl you dream of?” you stood up in front of him. your throat burned with every breath.
“of course i want to be with you!” this time he stood up.
“then why do act like you’re ashamed? why do we have to keep our relationship hidden?” you yelled out, partially startling ron. tears brimmed your eyes but you refused to let them down.
he walked up to you and grabbed the sides of you face. ron’s eyes were glossy and sunken; filled with guilt and sympathy. “i am not ashamed of you. i’m scared of what people would think about us— people would think ‘what a weird couple, she’s way too fit for him” he flayed his arms mockingly.
you playfully slapped his shoulder, “you care way too much about what others think, ron. besides, i’m tired of sneaking around.” you said more seriously.
“so what? you want to break up?” ron sat back down on the bed and pressed his lips together to keep from smirking.
you took a deep breath to keep yourself from ripping ron’s head off, “no, i— ugh, nevermind” you began to walk away
“i’m joking!” ron gently tugged your arm, and pulled you towards so you stood in between his legs. “y/n, do you want to be my public girlfriend?” he asked you as he wrapped his arms around you.
you put a finger to your chin, pretending to be thinking about it. “hmm, no thanks” you replied.
ron began poking and tickle at your sides.
“you know, if this is your way of getting me to be your girlfriend— stop it!— it’s not a very good one” you giggled in between words.
“merlin, you’re lucky i love you” ron breathed out, not quite realizing what he said.
“you what?” you asked breathlessly.
“oh shit, erm— i love you. yeah. i love you. that’s okay right? i mean you don’t have to say it back but if you want—“
you interrupted ron by kissing him, “i love you too” you mumbled against his lips.
everything worked out. ron loved you and you loved him back. fireworks erupted in your stomach every time you kissed him and your brain went foggy; focusing on nothing but him.
turns out that you are that girl he dreams of.
taglist: @keepawaythenargles @anywherebuthere @myloveforluna click here to join!
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edith-hyde ¡ 2 years ago
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Hello there Edith! I'm Giona and I want to know why did you create the series, You forgot your Umbrella.
Because this user needs more of your version of Norman Osborn because I, too is getting tired of the Norman smut train because that is everywhere! It's a rarity to see fluff, light sexual content or even angst of Norman and the Green Goblin because most of the time it turns into sex... filthy, filthy sex.
But your version is just -chefs kiss- perfect! I simply adore he feel remorse after No Way Home while still being the Norman we all recognize! Keep it up!
Aw! Thank you so much for your kind words!
My reason for writing this is quite the tale... okay maybe not XD But basically, I've been around on Tumblr for a very long time compared to some. And as soon as Spider-Man No Way Home came out, I silently jumped into that fandom, liking things etc. On occasion as a guilty pleasure, I would read some of the NormanXReader or OttoXReader fics but many I had to skip due to the reasons you listed. I wanted to find cleaner fanfics for my enjoyment but the tag was lacking. And, at the risk of sounding arrogant, the ones that were decent, were not that well written. (No diss to them. It's fanfic. It's not really meant to be book worthy.)
This left me with only one option- Write one myself.
I could be the hero who brought a wholesome, decent, fluffy, yet kinda angsty fic to the tag on the off chance that there were others like me seeking asylum from the smut.
Plus, it would be a great writing exercise.
Course, I have a reputation and had friends/family following my other account as well as links to other social accounts. And while I commend those who can post without shame, I am not one of those. After all, writing fanfics and the like is "cringe".
So I made Edith-Hyde and began writing.
The account is aptly named- for it is the mask I dawn to be able to write without fear of "ruining" my reputation. Surprisingly, what started out almost as an experiment to see if I could do it, quickly became something I quite enjoy. doing. It's almost like healing my inner teenager lol. My Norman Fanfic is not only a gift to the racoons of tumblr who are seeking to read the garbage I write- but also a guilty pleasure of my own. I love writing it just before bed as a way to relax.
At the end of the day, as a creative person, having others enjoy my work really brings me a lot of joy. I love seeing all the positive comments and hearing about how many people really like it. Plus, I love being a little sanctuary for those seeking good vibes and clean writing. I am a Christian and I want to share good decent content with everyone.
Even if that content is a silly NormanXReader fanfic. XD
Sorry for the info dump if that's not what you were looking for. While I've written fanfics, mostly when I was much younger, I've never really posted them. And I have certainly never written a XReader fic before. So it's been a fun adventure. For everyone to think so highly of it, really boosts my ego lol.
And if you were asking why I chose Norman of all characters... it's just because I love him. Him and Otto made that movie for me and are the reason why Spider-Man No Way Home is my all time favorite MCU film. And Norman was the one suffering the most from rampant smut. So he honestly deserved some clean content.
Again, thank you so much for reading my story! You inspire me to keep writing and I am glad that you were able to find my work in your search for clean content.
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arcadejohn127-9 ¡ 4 years ago
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Demon brother's reaction to Teenage! MC being effected by their sin
Slight angst but not really, just stressed guilty demons not wanting to be a bad influence on you
Lucifer:
Normally you weren't too bad with asking for help
Hesitant but never this avoident
He leaned on your doorway, watching as you hunched over your desk
Trying hard to continue your work despite your growing frustration
He decided to step in, gently knocking on your door
"what is it? I'm busy."
"You look like you need help, what class are you struggling in?"
There seemed to be a snap within you
You turned to him with a furious look; eyes filled with shame and anger
"Are you implying I'm stupid?! I don't need your help! Don't look down on me!"
He recognized this; it was similar to his thought process
You were suffering with your pride
But he insisted, his own pride flaring up and not wanting to accept that he's rubbed off on you in any way
The two of you argued until it got to the point you were crying
He pushed himself through his own wounded ego and pulled you into a hug
Apologizing for not noticing his sin was effecting you sooner
Mammon:
He was always dragging you along with his terrible plans
It was no wonder that his sin started to affect you
You become possessive of anything you owned and refused to spend money
No matter how much you needed something you refused to spend a penny
Not wanting to see the decrease of money in your piggy bank
Mammon only noticed when you became more impulsive
Whilst you were a trouble maker yourself, you were also his impulse control and voice of reason
It shocked him when you completely agreed to heist some witches
"Oi, aren't you supposed to be the voice of reason here?! Why are you agreeing to do something like that, huh?!"
You didn't understand why he was trying to be the mature one
He bickered with you about your recent behaviour; not liking the change
"why can't I be greedy?! You're the avatar of greed, you should be encouraging this behaviour!"
"Because you're better than that! You know I want you to spoil yourself and of course, me, but you can't be trying to rob people with me."
"but you wanted me to!"
It went on like that for awhile until Lucifer came and found you two
You were both put in time out for being stupid
You had to be away from mammon until his Sins effect worn off
Levithan:
He was freaking out you were envious of HIM
some shut in who does nothing with his life but game and obsess over anime
When you expressed jealously over the fact he got to stay at home all the time and do whatever he wanted
REPEATEDLY
He was starting to think something was wrong with you
There's no way you could be as envious as him!
"Who are you and what did you do to my player 2?! Are you a little D in disguise?!"
"I wish I was a little D, they look so cute and have cool little horns-"
He tries to exorcise you
Locked you out his room when he realized your behaviour was because of his sin
He feels terrible
But don't worry, when you're back to normal he lets you play whatever you want and sneaks you out of school to stay at home
Satan:
At first he thought it was hormones but as soon as he brought it up
He was yelled at for being insensitive and made you upset
"NOT EVERYTHING IS HORMONES! WHAT?! I CAN'T FEEL THINGS NORMALLY?!"
At first, he took it as you were just having a bad week and tried be mindful of his words
But when he saw you throw a book because you could do your homework without struggling
He pieced together that there was something wrong
He didn't want to release his wrath on a teenager
He wasn't going to throw hands- maybe he will if you keep snapping at him like that
Definitely an argument that shakes the whole house
"YOU DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT HUMAN! I AM THOUSANDS OF YEARS OLDER THAN YOU! YOU WILL RESPECT ME AND STOP BEING SUCH A MOODY LITTLE-"
"SHUT UP OLD TIMER! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! I SHOULD YOU BE IN A NURSING HOME!"
Just for both of your safety the brothers split you two
You were grounded for a week for destroying the library along with Satan
The break let him figure out his sin was effecting you
When you weren't grounded anymore he came to your room to apologize
Asmodeus:
He noticed your influx in sexuality
Coming to him more about advice and becoming open about what you're interested in
He found it adorable, happy you're discovering yourself
It only became an issue when he found out Mammon was in a fight with a lower demon over you
Even asmo has challenged a few demons to stay away from you as you kept trying to force yourself in adult situations
The more reckless you got the more worried he got
"I love your spirit but you have to be careful, you're still young and shouldn't be apart of that crowd."
"I'll be safe if I'm with you, right? So why does it matter-"
"Wait until your older to go to the type of parties they're going to, it's too extreme."
You didn't enjoy the brothers stopping you from doing what you wanted
Lucifer kept dress coding you
Asmo ended up helping you be able to express yourself and feel mature but without sexualizing yourself
Though, it was a shame he had to take a break from spending time with you
Seeing as it was his sin that was effecting you
Definitely, the most supportive but wants you to be safe
Beezlebub:
An eating buddy? He was overjoyed!
He felt proud when he noticed you were eating more than usual
Even offering you food more often when he noticed you looked peckish
You were always helping him with his hunger so he wanted to return the favour
Did get confused when you kept insisting you were still hungry after sharing a buffet with him
"Are you sure? I don't know if humans can eat that much, you seem full-"
"But I'm hungry!"
"Lack of water can make you feel hungry, let's go get some drinks."
He had a hard time saying no to you
He was sucker for your puppy eyes, always falling for your tricks
When he saw your hunger expressed itself in more ways than hunger
He put two and two together; you were becoming overwhelmed with gluttony
He wasn't always the sharpest but when it came to knowing himself and his loved ones?
He's got it
Has the other brother's distract you and keep you away from him
He was really guilting he was effecting you, he didn't mean to but now you're in pain and never satisfied
He couldn't stand to see it
Belphegor:
He often got you to sleep besides him so when you started sleeping more; he didn't think much of it
He was enjoying the company
Having someone sleep as much as him was rare and wasn't natural for a human
But life was stressful and he didn't want to get in your bussiness
That was until it became his business
Your lack of motivation was conflicting his lack of motivation
He'd ask you to do something for him but you'd be too tired to do it
"You're still in bed? I asked you for your hair brush hours ago."
"just give me a minute, I'm not feeling it today."
You were getting in trouble at school due to your depressive like state
All the brothers got worried when they noticed you didn't leave your room all day
Luckily, you staying in your room all the time gave you the break you needed
Everyone was relieved when you bounced back
423 notes ¡ View notes
kashimos-hajime ¡ 4 years ago
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no regrets (8/8) | r.b.
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summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.
WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k
a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 
masterlist
crossposted on ao3 x
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Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.
I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.
What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.
You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.
Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 
I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.
Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.
im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I
Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.
I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.
Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.
I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 
Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 
I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 
wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.
Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.
Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.
My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.
I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 
With love,
Rienr
You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.
You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.
They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.
“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.
“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 
“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”
“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”
“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”
Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.
When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.
You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.
Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 
“For your services to the Survey Corps.”
There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.
“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 
The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.
.
Distantly, he remembers flashes. 
Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.
How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.
He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.
How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.
When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.
“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”
Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 
Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.
Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.
The ring. You’re wearing it. You…
For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.
“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.
“So are you.” 
And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 
Maybe they are.
He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.
Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.
You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”
Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”
Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”
Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 
“Okay.”
When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 
It has to be. 
You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.
But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 
The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 
He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 
Why him?
As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.
“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”
“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”
And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.
Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.
Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.
Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.
And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.
“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”
The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.
“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”
And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.
.
Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.
There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 
Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.
Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 
For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.
Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.
.
Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 
It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.
Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.
He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.
“Eren… where are we?”
“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”
A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.
“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”
His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.
And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”
Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.
 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.
“Marco! Sasha!”
Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.
He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—
“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.
Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.
I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 
Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—
You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.
Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.
He’s gone.
A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.
“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.
Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 
His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.
Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 
“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”
Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 
You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.
He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.
It’s over.
The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.
Just like he promised.
You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.
[THREE YEARS LATER]
Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 
Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 
How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.
And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.
Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.
But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.
Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 
Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.
Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.
You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”
“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.
Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.
“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 
“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.
A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.
“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”
“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.
“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.
“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”
“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.
“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.
Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.
Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.
“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 
“To protect the both of us,” you explain.
“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”
You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 
“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”
This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.
As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.
And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.
“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.
So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.
Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.
Hope for the future, and all that.
She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.
“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”
“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”
“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”
You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.
Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.
“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 
Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”
“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 
You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.
If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.
You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.
Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.
“You guys okay?”
“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 
“I think it’s charming.”
She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 
“Soon may the Wellerman come…”
A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.
Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.
Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.
She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.
You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.
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iheartbookbran ¡ 4 years ago
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Ok so actually my biggest problem with the whole “Daenerys will burn KL” theory—not even the Mad Queen Dany theory, which is of course very sexist for obvious reasons, but just like, the idea that Dany will ~accidentally~ ignite the wildfire in the city, burning it all to the ground. That, at first, doesn’t sound that bad, but the longer I think about it the more I hate it because tbh it doesn’t do anything for her character? And also… that fate for her is just down right cruel.
Like, the most frequent argument I see on why this would be at all satisfactory for Dany’s arc is basically that it would be a sort of lesson for her about the dangers of unchecked power and the real threat the Dragons can pose on humans and that she shouldn’t use them to fight against other people. And that’s all well and good, excellent message… except that’s not something Dany’s ever really needed to learn? Not anymore that her fellow rulers, which I will touch on more detail later, but in general Dany has seen what the abuse of power can do. Starting with her conflicting feelings regarding Viserys and how she recognizes that even though he was her brother and she loved him, he also abused his power over her as her older brother, her only family and her king; she feels guilt about the atrocities Drogo committed to the lhazarene and tries to help them; she feels so much guilt about not handling things correctly in Astapor that she decides to throw away all her plans to go to Westeros and instead stays in Meereen.
And about not knowing the true danger that her dragons can pose? I mean, this is the same girl that literally agonizes across several of her ADWD chapters because Drogon killed a child, and then takes the extreme measure of caging Rhaegal and Viserion to prevent that from ever happening again. I think she’s at least a little bit aware that the dragons can be dangerous, thank you very much.
Ok so this got long...
Anyways, the only time Dany legit uses Drogon to harm someone and not just as bluff was at the house of the Undying, where she was being attacked, and in Astapor… and like, lmao, that asshole Kraznys mo Nakloz and the rest of his slaver buddies deserved it. Don’t at me. Also, Dany’s hardly the only one with a big magical and deadly beast at her disposal, why didn’t Robb had to go through some horrifying traumatic incident to learn he shouldn’t use Grey Wind in battle to tear his enemies’ throats. Bran will be learning about the dangers of abusing power, but that’s linked to his magic powers and an actual reprehensible thing he’s doing, not the use of his glorified prehistoric dog to kill, which he’s done, just like Robb. By all means let the narrative hold Dany accountable for her mistakes… but her actual mistakes and not shit she has no control over, because she doesn’t have much control over Drogon or the other dragons even though she’s trying to, and that’s very obvious in her last ADWD chapter where she’s delirious and Drogon could kill her at any moment, and she knows that.
The other big argument people make for Dany burning KL (even if it’s by accident!) is that it will teach her about the price of war, that someone as young as her shouldn’t be leading armies and conquering kingdoms, and that fighting for the Iron Throne is not a worthy cause, and I feel like that misses the actual point of her story by a mile. First of all because a) Dany is hardly the only teenage ruler in the story and b) this is a fantasy medieval story, a lot of the characters shouldn’t be doing the things they do, aaaand yet. Also speaking of other teenage rulers with far more power that they should have—Robb and Jon, being the biggest examples.
Granted, Robb and Jon aren’t exactly successful during their time as rulers, they’re literally betrayed and killed by their own men (even if Jon will technically come back for round 2 of bullshit he’s too tired for). But the moral of their stories is not that they lost because theirs was an unworthy cause and they were stupid kids wholly unprepared for their roles. And I actually partially agree! They are just kids, including Dany, and they shouldn’t be responsible for looking after so many others and going to battle, but their cause is still just and worthy, even with all the mistakes they make along the way. Robb didn’t loose because he was wrong in demanding justice for his family or trying to protect the riverlands from the Lannisters and their minions, he lost because Tywin Lannister was a giant coward who couldn’t take him out in a fair fight.
Likewise, it isn’t wrong of Jon to try to incorporate refugees from beyond the Wall into Westeros. He’s not too stupid and honorable to do politics like his father (how I hate when people insult Jon and Ned like that), and while he did some very obvious mistakes that inevitably ended in a coup and in him dying, this is more connected to his inability to let go of his ties with his family (mainly Arya or who he believes to be her), and in isolating himself from his friends and the people he could actually trust.
I’ve always thought that Dany and Jon share a parallel narrative within the story, so while Jon is struggling with that Dany is faced with similar problems. She cages her dragons, that to her represent the only family she has left, and she tries to compromise with the slavers, marry a man she doesn’t love, pretend she’s ok with reopening the fighting pit. While she tries her best to rule wisely in Meereen, it all comes at the cost of betraying herself and her beliefs, so it’s no surprise when it all crashes around her and she’s betrayed and nearly killed. Ironically, it is Drogon who comes to rescue her.
If they are monsters, so am I.—Daenerys II, ADWD.
This is hands down one of my favorite Dany quotes from the whole series, and I hate that it’s been given such a negative connotation in the fandom, when for me it represents Dany’s humanity and compassion at the fullest.
GRRM has a knack for humanizing the ‘monsters’ of his story, for showing the good in the outcasts and the ugly and the scary. He embraces their ‘otherness’ and makes them the heroes of his stories; Arya, Bran, Brienne, Dany, Tyrion, Jon, Theon and many others are all compared to monsters or beasts at one point or another in the books.
Dany sees herself in her dragons, literal monsters in every sense of the word. Later on she faces Drogon inside the pit, and in that moment you could say that she accepts that ‘monstrous’ part of her, and in doing so she’s saved from her fate of dying at the hands of the men who would crucify innocent children and gleefully profit off of the suffering of their fellow human beings while watching them fight each other to the death for their own amusement. Now tell me who’s the real monster in this situation.
But shortly before that happens, Dany is able to see the humanity in Tyrion, an outcast who has been branded as monstrous and unlovable due to his disability all his life, a man who has come to believe in his abusers’ rhetoric about him so strongly that he’s started to act cruel and detached. She saves his life. She sees value in his life when few others would, because she cares.
I’ve always find it funny that the “dragons plant no trees” is—another—example fans use to argue in favor of Dany’s descent into Darkness™ because the actual scene goes like this:
You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros.
"It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl."
No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.—Daenerys X, ADWD.
Now am I the only one who finds it at least a bit relevant that it’s freaking Jorah Mormont aka Jorah the Enslaver whom Dany’s subconscious, at her literal lowest moment, utilizes to represent this particular thought, which btw I’ve always interpreted as Dany’s own self-loathing manifesting in her, and this is something she’s actually always struggled with—the idea that she’s not enough and she’s failing. Because above all things, even Westeros or the Iron Throne, what Dany wants is peace, she wants to plant trees.
When Dany made her descent, Reznak and Skahaz dropped to their knees. "Your Worship shines so brightly, you will blind every man who dares to look upon you," said Reznak. […] This match will save our city, you will see."
"So we pray. I want to plant my olive trees and see them fruit." Does it matter that Hizdahr's kisses do not please me? Peace will please me. Am I a queen or just a woman?—Daenerys VII, ADWD.
But of course the world doesn’t work like that, and so long as there’s Jorahs and Tywins and Eurons out there, men who would take the freedom of humans and submit them to their will, Dany can’t have the luxury of peace, just like Jon can’t have the luxury of belonging and family so long as there’s people still beyond the Wall who need his protection.
And I think that’s fine. It’s fine that Dany failed, it will help her develop as a character and realize that there’s no room to compromise with slavers, the metaphorical monsters of the story who do far more harm than the other more literal ‘monsters’ of the story. So that when she has to face down Euron Greyjoy—who btw, there’s a high chance he will end up stealing one of Dany’s dragons via Victarion using Dragonbinder… y’know, as in enslaving one of her children and using said dragon to inflict god knows what horrors, yet not many people ever consider this for some reason?—she will know. When she has to face down the Others, the magical ice fairies with no regard for human life, she will know.
That’s why I believe that it would make absolutely no sense for Dany to have to go through such a tragic and traumatic experience like burning a whole city even by pure accident, over something that’s either never been a problem with her character or she’s well into her way of learning anyways, so it would just feel repetitive. As I have pointed out, she’s already reached one of the lowest moments of her arc. Not saying there will be no other blows for her, and probably the destruction of KL will be one of them, and knowing Dany she will feel responsibility over it no matter what, but that doesn’t mean she has to be the culprit, intentional or otherwise.
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jjkpls ¡ 4 years ago
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the wishlist (m) - 4
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“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”
> genre : smut, fluff
> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)
> total words : 4.7k
> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity ; awkwardness
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The issue is that Jungkook -and you're not a bitch for thinking that- is a little bit of an idiot.
He can be very smart. He can be wise and present unsuspecting resources and knowledge. He can teach you things you don't know anything about, figure out others you struggle to -but not during stressful times like for say an escape game because during those, he turns absolutely, utterly useless. 
But he is an idiot too. An idiot that sometimes shapes situations and conclusions and ideas in a very peculiar way that is very singular to him.
That’s precisely what happens then. He plays his role right, to its full extent, with great dedication and commitment. Except he missed a memo, misread the script and ends up playing a role that's not the one you planned for him. He believes that he’s your new adult toy provider (as if there is such a thing).
When you think he’s coming over to share a meal or play some game or binge-watch a series you promised to wait for him to experience together, he has a box hidden in his pocket or carried under his arm. 
He has the decency to not comment on it the first time around. He just set it down on the coffee table, between the bowl of chips and the one filled with guacamole. You see the logo on top of it. You recognize the design, reffined, minimalist with the pretty pastel matte colour. 
He probably identifies the shame and the annoyance on your face, painting your cheeks and reshaping your eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything. Simply smiles to himself and starts talking about the series’ new episode that’s about to start. 
It takes a lot of efforts, coming from you, to ignore the conspicuous object sitting just in front and in between you. But eventually, probably because more than a decade of friendship with this guy have grown impressive mind muscles on you, you manage to make abstraction of it. 
It just stops existing for a while until he leaves and you’re curious to see what’s inside. And again you have the same old intentions as before. The same ones.
You won’t use it. 
It’s curiosity. And it's fine for you to be curious because he’s the one buying it and gifting it to you. Why should you be blamed?
Freshly hopped in bed, just done reading the notice hanging over your face, you’re yawning and sending your eyebrows high in interest. Again you won’t use it but it sounds very interesting. That’s when you get a text from him.
Guk
So about the toy!
As if you were waiting for his explanation. As if the conversation got cut short and you were expecting him to pick it back up whenever possible.
You won’t entertain him.
You
I said not to buy me this.
Guk
You never said that! You said something about me being crazy but never about buying one again
Because you're mostly made of petty bitch material, you scroll higher quickly, wishing to find something, any text that would corroborate what you’re saying.
You don’t find anything though. Because you never actually told him to not buy you other toys by text, and now that you come to think of it, you probably never did out loud either because you didn’t fucking know that he would even consider doing so.
It’s not even Christmas anymore. It’s not your birthday. There’s even less of a valid reason for him to get you this therefore, of course, you did not explicitly warn him not to, you didn’t think it would be necessary.
You
It’s not even my fucking bday why???
Guk
I told you the lady at the shop
But who the hell is that lady?
Guk
She talked about a lot of products and they all seemed cool and because you liked the other one I thought I’d get you this one too
You
Jungkook
This simple response says a lot, you hope he can read between the pixels of his screen the desperation, the irritation, the frustration, the silent insults. 
Guk
Listen it’s super cool it's supposed to mimic the touch of a finger
Jungkook then proceeds to explain to you how it works. The original idea being a system with a tiny ball rolling under a silicon skin, to place on your clitoris to have the illusion of a finger's touch. And it’s interesting and innovative surely and sounds intriguing as in, you wonder if it’s accurate, but you’re tired and it seems like you’re wading in some sort of swamp you can’t escape from. There’s a fire burning your skin from your cheeks to your chest. You’re both hating this conversation and unwilling to just draw a final period to it. This asshole.
You
I can read
Guk
So you opened it already??
There’s a bunch of excited emojis that follows his last message and fill up the empty space your lack of response leaves. 
Why and how can he be so eager?
Here comes the delusional part of your brain. It’s a very wide, very deep hallway covered in bookshelves filled to the brim with stupid interpretations and beliefs and sometimes even memories you’ve shared with him. Often next to the laters are pinned an article from a teenage magazine or the jacket of a romance movie, specifically there to validate that yes, indeed, it must have meant something. 
The door of that corridor just creaked opened. You can discern the sound, you can feel the particular atmosphere without even having to take a step through. 
Is it really that normal to be so excited about that? For him? As a friend?
It’s the most frustrating part: you are friends. Friends who supposedly can tell each other everything. Friends who can ask each other anything. 
You should be able to talk about it. Just ask him. If there’s anything behind this whole mess, if he means to tell you something, if it’s wholly mindless, if there’s no hidden agenda.
It should be fine. There’s only trust and affection in this friendship. 
You are still too scared, you are terrified that he’d start linking dots, ask himself some new questions, potentially answer them himself, and have you all found out.
You'd have your barely well-worn cover thrown completely away. 
You send the blank emoji. The one with even the eyes closed. It summarizes your actual state pretty well, speechless, relatively annoyed. 
Guk
She said you could try it on other parts of your body too
Guk
At first
Guk
Like on your lips or your nipples
You want to die.
Now.
No, better, you wish to have never been born. 
Why is he talking about your nipples? Why?
And through all that, you still feel like something is wrong with you, along with your feelings. 
Turns out you are so overwhelmed by his clueless inadequacy, you need a good half an hour and a random shot of tequila to get through it. When it’s gone and exhaustion of a long day and alcohol have knocked nervousness and panic out, you fall asleep, forgetting about answering his outrageous last texts. 
“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”
Min's finger stops midair, above the cash register she's been working on. She needs a good minute to get back to her senses and while you wait, anxiety invades you. Maybe you should never have brought it up. 
But this question, the torturous thing is slowly killing you.
Min finally turns her head to you, eyes squinted and eyebrows drawn low. She sucks in her pretty red lips before opening them to start formulating, with it seems a certain struggle, an answer. 
“I don’t think I quite understand.”
It’s a pretty straightforward, relatively easy question. That’s what you'd want to say but you’ve reached the state of bashful regret and decide not to press it. Some things are better just left alone. 
“Who talked about your nipples?” She ends up asking the one thing you wished she wouldn’t because there is no way you’re giving his name. 
“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble, turning around slightly, getting back to the task you were here, paid, to do -wipe the shelves clean and not talk about your “““love””” life. 
“I think it does. You wanna know if it means something? Like the guy's into you?”
“Something like that.” Your cheeks are aflame now. No doubt about it. You silently curse at your manager who refuses that you don’t wear the ugly hat that holds your hair back because having a curtain of hair to hold behind, as a help to keep some of your remained, sparse dignity would have been peachy. 
“What did he say exactly?”
Silence. You’re not elaborating. She sighs, defeated. 
“Well, I suppose... he’s considered the fact that you have boobs. If it’s a straight guy, that’s a good sign, I guess?” She shrugs.
You don’t like the answer. It’s exactly what the wrong, defective part of your brain, the one directly wired to your heart, wanted to hear. 
She doesn’t even have the context, anyway. It doesn’t mean much, doesn’t hold much power in your court of sensibility. 
She stares at the side of your face, clearly attempting to drill holes in your head to try and find some answers. You’re awfully silent, have said too much yet not enough and she’s dying to know the whole story. You won’t give in and she can tell. There’s no way you’re sharing the whole thing. The most, probably, probative point of the whole story: the sex toys. It’d turn her into a devastating tsunami of nonsense and misinterpretation and drown you in its wake and you can’t, when you’re already struggling to stay afloat, allow that.
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Tag list: @fangirls94 @realswimshaddy @safi4x @pnkd @somewhereinthestarss @kpopfandomftw @kai-kai-bookshelf @pasteljoonie @ggukkieland
A/N: Don’t forget to click on the next button on top, two parts are being posted simultaneously :)
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kasienda ¡ 3 years ago
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The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Ch 7 - Five Minute Adventures of Ananta
Chapter 1: I Want It To Be You
Chapter 2: Best Friends
Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans
Chapter 4: A Thank You
Chapter 5: Unwanted Revelations
Chapter 6: Miraculous Abuse
Chapter 7: Five Minute Adventures of Ananta
Adrien’s room felt more like a prison than it ever had before, and he had always felt like the walls were closing in on him a bit, and so that afternoon he had snuck out to Nino’s the second he had managed to chase Nathalie out of his room. 
Nino’s room - despite being small and cramped - never made Adrien feel claustrophobic. Adrien suspected it had something to do with the company. 
“What should my snake name be?” Nino asked out of nowhere.
“You’re not going to use it!” Adrien objected. “You don’t need a name.”
“Come on, dude! Just for fun!” 
Adrien sighed. “Basilisk.” 
Nino tapped his lips in consideration. “It’s okay. I don’t feel much like the king of anything.” 
“Python.” 
“Boring.”
“Diamondback.” 
Nino’s eyebrows furrowed together. “What does Diamondback have to do with anything?”
“It’s a type of snake,” Adrien explained, and then turned to Nino with a smirk. “But it’s also a type of turtle.” 
Nino just shook his head. “That’s a better reason not to use it. No associations with turtles! We gotta keep my identity super secret!”
“The best way to keep it secret is to not use the snake at all!” 
“What about something to do with time?” Nino asked, ignoring Adrien’s objection. 
“Cronos.” 
“Also boring! Dude! Why are you so bad at this?”
“I don’t see you coming up with anything.”
“Because you’re definitely the cooler of the two of us,” Nino said.  
Adrien shook his head. “Nino, I named myself Black Cat. I’m not super original when it comes to names.” 
Nino laughed. “Fair point.”
“And you are just as cool as me,” he insisted, though he whipped out his phone anyway and typed out a search for ‘names related to time’ and started scrolling through various sites with baby and pet names. 
“What do you think of Baqi?” Adrien asked. “It means eternal.” 
Nino frowned. “That’s an arabic name. Do you think me taking on an arabic name is potentially identity revealing?”
“Okay, here’s one in sanskrit. Ananta.”
Nino nodded. “A bit of a mouthful, but I like it.” 
Adrien’s eyebrows rose. “A mouthful compared to Carapace?”
Nino laughed. “What’s it mean?” 
“Infinite.” 
“Dude! Perfect. Let’s go with Ananta. I wonder what I look like with the snake.”
Adrien groaned, seriously regretting in that moment giving Nino the Snake instead of Ladybug.
“Do you not want me to?” Nino asked seriously.
Adrien waved his hand in encouragement. “Just do it. I’d be curious too.” He was curious, too. 
Nino grinned and scrambled to his feet. “Sass! Scales slither.”
Adrien found himself mirroring Nino’s excitement. These silly stupid moments with Nino were the ones that were keeping him sane at the moment. 
The rest of the time he was a bit of a mess. 
Keep reading on Ao3
Adrien found himself a lot more resentful of his homework than normal when it stole away most of his time to spend on his friends and on himself now that he was used to being able to finish at least half of it in the space of five minutes as far as the rest of the world was concerned. 
And it didn’t help that it was suddenly so much harder to pay attention in class since he was hyper aware of Marinette sitting right behind him every single day. 
Seeing her in general was really hard because he knew how she felt. He knew that if he asked her out she would likely say yes, and he had to hold himself back. Before he had given up the snake, he had been able to scratch that itch by visiting her in the evenings in a time loop. 
Now? Now, he had to survive off of her garbled greetings and flustered blushes. 
He lived for her blushes. The blush that had always been there since he had apologized to her in the rain the day they met. He had thought she was just shy and self-conscious. But now, it was easy to recognize that she didn’t do it around anyone else - not even Chat Noir. That blush was reserved for Adrien Agreste and Adrien Agreste alone. 
It meant that she loved him. 
It was a good thing that it didn’t take much to trigger. Just a simple greeting often did the trick. 
“Good morning, Marinette.” 
And the pink would bloom across her cheeks like flowers in spring every time. 
That blush kept him from going out of his mind. It reminded him that she still loved him even if she wasn’t able to say it. 
A god, he hoped that she didn’t say anything because right now, he wasn’t ever going to be able to say no. 
“G-good morning, Adrien.”
He smiled. Her stutter was less reliable. She was getting better at talking to him, which he figured was a good sign, but he also loved that he could still fluster her on occasion. “How are you?” he asked. 
“I’m fine,” she said.
He didn’t like that answer. He knew that it wasn’t real. He turned to her as she sat down, and leaned into her space. “Marinette, how are you, really?” 
She looked at him in surprise. “I’m… things were rough for awhile, but I think I’m starting to get a handle on the new order of things.” 
“I’m glad.” And he meant it. Telling Alya had clearly changed things for her for the better. He was so glad she didn’t have to hold the weight of the world alone anymore. 
“How are you?” she asked. 
He shrugged. “I’m still figuring out my new order of things, but I like to think that things are actually trending in the right direction.” It might even be true. He wasn’t sure, to be honest. He was definitely getting better at coping with the absolute insanity his life had become if nothing else. 
“Will you let me know if you need anything?” she asked.
He smiled. “Of course.” 
It wasn’t everything he wanted. It wasn’t everything he knew the moment could be. 
But… it was enough.
At least most of the time. 
When it wasn’t, he called Nino and screamed about the injustice of it all, whines about how unfair and unreasonable his father was,  cursed Shadowmoth’s existence to all nine levels of hell, ranted about how much he just wanted to be able to be done with it all so that he and Ladybug didn’t have to worry about akumas or the end of the world. They could just be teenagers.
They could just be happy. 
But Shadowmoth clearly had other plans. After a lull, the akumas exploded both in frequency and awfulness. The encounters were taking longer to handle - especially without the benefit of the snake - and Adrien was having a much harder time explaining his disappearances and his father was suddenly breathing down his neck even more than usual. 
“Your marks have not been up to your usual standard, Adrien.” 
“I’m sorry, father.”
“Need I remind you that you promised you would continue to excel if you started at public school? If you cannot maintain the usual standards of excellence, I will not hesitate to return you to lessons with private tutors.”
Adrien hung his head. “Yes, father.” 
“In the meantime, you will spend less time with your friends until your grades improve.” 
Adrien sighed, and trudged back to his room. The punishment meant almost nothing because as far as his father was concerned, he only was allotted an hour a week with his friends, and usually a photoshoot got scheduled on top of his scheduled “friend time”. And of course, Adrien was actually hanging out with Nino almost every day without his father’s knowledge. 
But he felt exhausted anyway. He was tired of shoots, he was tired of homework, he was tired of Akumas, and he was most definitely tired of pretending. Tired of pretending for the sake of his father’s company image, tired of pretending he wasn’t worn down to nothing from all the responsibilities of both his personas, tired of pretending Marinette was just a friend. 
He flopped onto his bed only for the akuma alert to go off two minutes later. Adrien groaned. It was the second one that day and the fifth one that week.
But Adrien dragged himself to his feet anyway. At least he would get to see Marinette again.
But it wasn’t Ladybug he ran into on the scene.
It was Ananta. 
“What the hell are you doing here?!” Chat Noir demanded. 
Ananta was hiding hunched over in an alleyway with the whole akuma scene in clear view. “Just offering a little insurance. I haven’t actually engaged in any of the battles, but they’ve seemed a little rough lately.”
“Battles?” Chat Noir repeated. “As in plural, as in more than one?”
Ananta winced. “Yeah, I’ve been doing this for the last four or five akumas because things have seemed super dicey for you. But I haven’t actually engaged with the akuma or anything.”
“How many loops?” Adrien asked harshly.
“So far, none. You’re that awesome, dude!” Ananta raved, clapping Chat Noir on the back.  “You would have known if I had been through a loop because I’d have to intervene to give you the info on the last loop, right?”
Adrien relaxed. “Right.” 
....
But the akuma after that, Nino did intervene. 
But at least Ananta had managed to stay out of Ladybug’s sight and out of any pictures. 
And after the fact, Nino had insisted he had only needed three loops to defeat that akuma. 
“I don’t like it,” Adrien had insisted anyway. “Please, don’t use it anymore.” 
“Dude! I’m not doing this for some adrenaline rush. I’m not like Alya who goes looking for trouble, or like you who insists on throwing yourself in front of the blasts. I’m doing this only because it’s clear that Hawkmoth has stepped up his game, and you need support.” 
Adrien started to object. 
“Ladybug needs support, too,” Nino added. 
Which was such a low blow. Because Adrien was never going to be able to argue with that. 
“Unless you want to take it back?” Nino offered.
Adrien considered it. He didn’t want Nino to get stuck in a battle loop. He didn’t want Nino to experience anything like Desperada. At least in his own case, he was already damaged and traumatized by what he had experienced.
But even the idea of taking it scared the crap out of him. Because there was no way he wouldn’t use it to visit Marinette. 
He missed her with every fiber of his being. It had only been three weeks. Three weeks where he hadn’t been able to have a conversation with her without filters, three weeks since he had been able to kiss her. He hadn’t been able to kiss her for like three weeks. Three excruciating long weeks where he hadn’t been able to tell her that Adrien and Chat Noir were one in the same. Where he had been truly seen for all that he was and truly loved because of it. 
And the more time that went by the less convinced he was that he’d be able to come out of that loop.
“No, you should still hang onto it,” he whispered. 
“Or if you wanted, we could give it back to Ladybug,” Nino suggested. “She could hand it out to whoever Viperion is.” 
Which was reasonable. Though Adrien wasn’t sure he wanted Luka to experience a bad battlefield loop either. 
Then the akuma alert rang simultaneously from both their phones. Adrien covered his hands in his face. 
“Gah! Does he never sleep?!” 
“Come on, mec. Let’s go.” 
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” 
During the battle, Nino had intervened, but he hadn’t intervened with Chat Noir; he had spoken to Ladybug in the final loop. The battle had gone amazingly smoothly after that, but Ananta slipped away before the traditional fist bump and Ladybug was not pleased. 
She was pissed. 
“You lost the snake?!” Ladybug demanded, her blue eyes flashing in anger.
“I didn’t lose it!” he said defensively. “I know exactly where it is.”
“You gave it away? Why?”
His claws tore through his own hair as he took a deep breath. “Because… it wasn’t safe with me anymore,” he admitted softly.
Some of her anger faded, replaced with concern. “What does that mean?”
“I can’t explain without telling you things you’ve told me not to tell you.” Which was mostly true. 
She fidgeted on the spot, considering. “Can you tell me who he is?” she asked. 
He laughed. “Definitely not.” 
“What?! Why not?”
“I gave it to my best friend, Ladybug. If you know who he is, you’ll know who I am. And that apparently might lead to the end of the world,” he bit out sarcastically. 
She frowned. “Are you okay?” 
“No,” he admitted. 
“What can I do?” she asked. 
“You can’t do anything,” he told her gently. “I’m handling it.” 
“I… I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with you,” she admitted. 
He laughed darkly. “Welcome to my world.”
She blushed. She actually blushed! He had made her blush as Chat Noir! Sure, it was probably more out of embarrassment than love, but he would take it!
“I guess I deserved that one,” she said. 
He took her hand and squeezed it. He wished he could sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but he couldn’t risk that. “I know exactly how frustrating it is to be left in the dark.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. 
He shook his head, squeezing her hand through their gloves once again. What would it feel like to hold her hand when neither of them was transformed? He wanted to find out. He wanted it so bad.  
“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” he said. “I just want you to know that I understand. And I will tell you everything when it’s safe. In the meantime, can you please just trust me?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. You know that I do!”
And he did, now, didn’t he? 
He smiled. 
“I’m just…  I’m scared that if something happens to you, the snake will be lost,” she said.
“The person I gave it to knows how to get it back to you in that case,” he said.
“And how would he get it back to me?” she asked.
“He’d give it to you or to Rena Rouge during a patrol.”
She seemed startled at his inclusion of Rena Rouge, but she nodded. “You trust him?”
“I trust him more than I trust myself. And as much as I trust you.” 
“And they can handle the side effects of the snake?” 
Adrien sighed again. That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Could anyone handle the effects of the snake? “He’s done really well so far. This wasn’t the first battle where he’s been here, offering us a bit of insurance.”
She winced. “Yeah, the akumas have sucked lately.”
“Tell me about it.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry that I questioned you. I do trust you and your judgement. Your friend can keep the snake as long as you think it’s best.” 
“Thank you, LB,�� he said softly. 
She nodded and smiled. He returned the expression and offered her a friendly salute. 
Then he vaulted straight for Nino’s family home. 
“How many loops?” Adrien asked without preamble. 
Nino rolled his eyes. “It was nineteen this time. But it wasn’t bad at all, dude. Kinda weird and trippy, but not so bad.”
But Adrien didn’t like it. He feared the number would keep growing. How many loops was too many? 
Adrien didn’t know.
…
His father had missed eight dinners in a row, and Adrien couldn’t decide if he felt relieved or disappointed.
On one hand, his father’s absence meant Adrien could ask to eat in his room, which meant he could escape the mansion that much sooner. And Nino actually wanted to spend time with Adrien.
It also meant he’d avoid his father’s censure about everything from his last photoshoot to the way he held his fork. Adrien simply did not have the energy to be on his best behavior.
But his father’s continued absence also felt like it reaffirmed Adrien’s fears - that his father didn’t care. And the longer his father’s absence the more desperate Adrien was for any sign, no matter how small, that his father had thought about him at all. 
When his father’s scowling face did join him at the dining room table on evening number nine, Adrien regretted ever wishing for his father to make an appearance. 
“Your grades have dropped unacceptably low,” were the first words out of his father’s mouth.
Adrien fought off his eye roll. He literally had two B’s and the rest of his classes were A’s. Admittedly one of them was borderline, but he didn’t think anyone else’s parents in his class would have found his performance subpar even if this was the lowest his own grades had ever been in his life.
“You also didn’t behave professionally at the last photoshoot. You arrived late and your hair and make-up had to be redone.”
Adrien sighed. That had been four Akumas ago. Or was it five? Honestly, Adrien was losing track. 
“We didn’t get all the shots we needed. It has been rescheduled for Monday morning. You have two weeks to turn around both your attitude and your grades,” he father said without an ounce of warmth or concern, “or you will return to home schooling.”
Adrien sighed. “I’m sorry I have disappointed you father. I have been… having a hard time maintaining my motivation lately.”
Gabriel’s expression did not change at all. “Why?” he asked. 
Adrien froze at the question. He didn’t know what to say because he knew there wasn’t a correct answer. And not answering at all wasn’t acceptable either. He was going to lose here no matter what. 
He shouldn’t have said anything other than he would try harder.
Well, if he was screwed no matter what, might as well go with the truth.
“I think I’ve been depressed lately,” he admitted. 
“You’re not qualified to make that assessment.”
“I suppose not,” Adrien conceded. But would his father offer to send him to someone who was? 
Most likely not.
“What do you have to be depressed about?” Gabriel asked coldly. 
And something within Adrien just snapped. Whether it was his sleep deprivation, being beyond overworked both physically and mentally, or his longing to drop all the masks, or some combination of all of it, Adrien didn’t know. 
“Are you kidding me right now?” Adrien demanded. “Every second of every day of my life is planned without my input or consideration. I have no control. But I do all of it anyway. I train for national fencing competitions, get perfect scores, work I-don’t-know-how-many hours a week modeling for you. I have no space to breathe, let alone enjoy anything. I feel like a programmed robot going through a routine!”
The room fell into silence as Adrien’s tirade ended abruptly. Every muscle was locked and tense, waiting for punishment and condemnation. And despite that, Adrien couldn’t bring himself to regret it because, well, he was screwed either way at this point, so he might as well go down with a bang.
“Are you finished?” his father asked. He didn’t raise his voice, but Adrien flinched anyway. 
“Yes, father,” he said meekly. 
Gabriel removed his glasses and began cleaning them. “Clearly, I have expected too much of you.”
Adrien knew better than to find any relief in that conclusion. 
“I will arrange with Nathalie to have your schedule adjusted. She will add additional recreational activities suitable to a boy of your age, and reduce your current obligations significantly.” 
Which translated to they would remove him from school and schedule his so called free time with activities that Adrien had no interest in or with other teenagers he didn’t know.
“Father, I appreciate your concern,” he said formally. “That will not be necessary. I was having a weak moment. I will work harder,” he promised, though Adrien knew he wouldn’t be able to manage much more at the moment. 
His father nodded. “I look forward to seeing notes of your improved performance this Friday.” 
And now he had five days instead of two full weeks. 
Adrien wanted to scream. And he did scream later that night when he had escaped to Nino’s bedroom for the tenth time that week. He ranted and complained about the unfairness of it all, and Nino just listened with rapt attention.
“Can I at least deck him, dude? Please?” Nino asked when Adrien had finally run out of steam. “Just once? He won’t even remember!” 
Adrien laughed. “It won’t help anything.”
“I might feel better,” Nino disagreed. “You might, too.” 
And then an akuma alert sounded from both of their phones. 
They both groaned, but a second later, they had both transformed and were leaping out of Nino’s bedroom window.
The akuma was a porcupine the size of a bus. It’s spines did not look remotely friendly. That first impression solidified tenfold when the akuma started hurling the spines off its back like javelins in a jousting tournament. 
But despite his initial misgivings, the fight could not have gone more smoothly. 
Ananta had barreled both he and Ladybug out of the way, and helped them identify the akumatized item pretty much instantly. The whole encounter lasted about three minutes. 
But when he turned to Ladybug and Ananta for their traditional fist bump, Ananta had pushed past the offered fist and tackled him in a hug. Adrien returned the embrace with a surprised grunt. A second later he felt Nino’s quaking form in his arms. 
Apparently, the fight hadn’t been all that smooth afterall. 
“How many loops?” Adrien asked softly. 
“You don’t want to know,” Nino sobbed into his shoulder. 
“Ananta,” Adrien growled.
“1,674,” Nino admitted.
Ladybug tried to reassure them both with small hands on their shoulders. Nino just pulled her into the hug, too, and didn’t let go. 
“I’m really glad you’re both okay,” he cried and then he dissolved into wracking sobs again. Chat Noir and Ladybug both held him tightly.
But Ladybug couldn’t stay, as she was about to time out. She pulled away from their group hug with a concerned frown. 
“Are you going to be okay with him?” 
“Don’t worry,” Adrien assured her. “I’ll take him home and make sure he’s okay.” 
“I’m sorry I have to run,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien said again, before wrapping one of Nino’s arms over his shoulder and vaulting them both up to the nearest rooftop. 
He then ducked them both into a secluded alleyway that Chat Noir had used to transform before. Nino hadn’t stopped crying the entire time. 
“Nino, can you hear me?” 
Nino nodded.
“You need to lose the transformation, so we can feed Sass. Can you do that?” 
Nino managed to follow the instructions through hysterical sobs. Adrien followed suit and both kwami’s ate a slice of Plagg’s cheese. It was a sign of how serious everything was that neither kwami complained. Adrien transformed again.
“Okay Nino. You need to transform again, and then start a loop. Stay in that loop until you’re able to stop crying, you got it? It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will be here with you the whole time.”
Nino was still shaking and crying, but he managed to choke out the transformation phrase and called for his second chance. 
Instantly, Ananta stood before him, infinitely calmer than he had been just a second prior. 
“Woah,” Adrien said. “That’s weird. How long?” 
“Just a few hours,” Nino said, his voice was quiet, but it was steady. Adrien wrapped him into a hug. 
“Thank you,” Nino whispered. 
“As you have told me many many times, as many times as you need, whenever you need.”
“I don’t know how you have dealt with it so well,” Nino said. 
“I mean, you don’t remember all the times I was as much of mess as you were just a few seconds ago.” 
“I remember you freaking out about learning Ladybug’s identity,” Nino countered. “I… I didn’t understand why you didn’t want me to use it for battles. I… get it now.” 
“I’m sorry,” Adrien whispered. 
Nino shook his head. “The alternative would have been so much worse, dude. You would have lost this one.” 
“Thank you for saving our lives then. I’m sorry for what it has cost you.” 
Nino shrugged. “I think I’ll be okay. Can I keep it for a few more days? Abuse it a bit?” 
Adrien nodded. “Yeah of course. Abuse it like crazy and it will put space between you and what happened.”
Nino nodded, and actually smiled. And for the first time, Adrien was positive things would be okay. 
“I already have some ideas,” Nino said.  
“Do I want to know?” Adrien asked. 
Nino’s grin was wolffish. That was a no.
“Have fun, dude.”
… 
Nino still felt shaky the next morning. It was too easy to close his eyes and see his best friend impaled through the chest, his green eyes wide in shock. But it almost worked out in his favor because it hadn’t taken any convincing for his parents to agree he should stay home from school. They thought he was coming down with something - that he had chills. 
He didn’t correct them. 
He just rocked himself back and forth, nursing the tea his mother had brought up to him, and waited for both of them to leave for work. The second the door had closed behind them, he had bolted out his window as Ananta. 
The freerunning helped, but it wasn’t enough. He had just gotten too good at it - he could leap across rooftops almost without thinking now, and certainly without any fear. What could seem terrifying after everything he had seen the day before? 
And that was how Nino found himself on top of the Eiffel Tower staring down at the ground below - the ground that according to his best friend was 324 meters below him. Adrien had said at one point long before Nino had ever known of his friend’s superhero identity that it would take just over eight seconds to fall to the ground, probably a little longer because of air resistance. 
Nino had never thought anything of why Adrien had taken the time to calculate that. He had just assumed Adrien was a nerd who liked physics and had too much time on his hands. Now, he found himself wondering if Adrien had calculated that for an entirely different reason. 
Nino activated the second chance and leapt off the tower backwards with an ecstatic whoop. He slid his fingers across the bracelet five seconds into his fall, and rematerialized at the top of the tower giggling. 
Now, that was base jumping. He performed the trick dozens of times diving off the tower in different angles and positions. 
He knew Sass did not approve. The kwami had said as much when he mentioned the idea this morning. Adrien likely wouldn’t either, but Nino would only tell him well after the fact. 
But the adrenaline rush was exactly what he needed to wipe away the memories from the day before. 
Next, he had broken through his homeroom’s window, and swept Alya up in his arms. He definitely noticed Marinette’s disapproving glare, and Adrien burying his face in his hands, but he didn’t have to care about this. In four and a half minutes, this would have never happened. 
“Ask me to tell you that I love you,” he said. 
She arched her eyebrows. “Am I going to regret this?” 
“Nope! No repercussions today.” 
“Tell me that you love me,” she said, her face alight in a grin. 
“I love you,” he said. 
“How much?” 
“More than a superhero,” he said. 
She smiled, and her fingers locked around his neck. Then he kissed her hard. The whole class was catcalling behind them, and Ms. Bustier was trying to restore order. 
Alya was giggling against his lips. “I can’t believe you.” 
“I’m just getting started,” he promised. 
He went through hundreds more loops abducting Alya from parts of her day. It was different every time, and he was insanely grateful that she played along as soon as she realized it was him each time without even knowing that he was having a tough time. 
Or maybe, she did know. Like, she had covered Ananta’s exploits the day before on the Ladyblog. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to read the post, but someone had no doubt had caught the tearful group hug at the end of the battle, and Alya would have had a better guess than most what that likely meant. 
And so when he showed up as Ananta and revealed himself to be her boyfriend she would know that had been him. 
She didn’t ask questions or demand explanations. She just laughed and kissed him over and over. She let him abduct her from their dreary classes over and over and bury his face in her curls and wrap himself in her protective embrace until his senses were overwhelmed with all things Alya.
God, he loved her so much. 
The tricky part was then trying to escape from each of their teachers. Surprisingly Mendeliev had been the easiest to slip around, but Bustier had given him quite the run around. 
Once the school day was over he had followed Adrien’s limo home. He had intended to spend a few loops just being stupid with Adrien, but once there… well, he had been wanting to give Gabriel a piece of his mind since Nino had befriended his son. He had only held back because Adrien wanted him to, and Gabriel was terrifying. If only one of those things had been true, Nino thinks he would have pushed it ages ago. 
Ananta set the timer from the rooftop of the mansion and then broke through the front doors. 
Nathalie jumped to her feet, but he ignored her and stormed straight for Gabriel’s office. 
Gabriel rose to his feet more slowly than Nathalie had to face his intruder. 
“Gabriel Agreste, I’m here to tell you that you are the absolute worst parent.”
The older man gestured Nathalie away from the door. She stepped back, but she did not close the door. 
“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave,” the stoic man said, barely raising his voice, which Nino found infuriating. 
“No! Not until I’ve said my piece.”
Gabriel took a visibly annoyed breath. “You’re clearly a teenager.” 
“Your point?”
“You’re hardly qualified to judge my parenting approaches.” 
Nino wanted to pull his hair out.
“Except that I am because I’m the one who picks Adrien back up everytime you tear him down!”
Gabriel considered him stoically for a moment, his hands hidden behind his back. 
“Mr. Lahiffe, I have already banned you from the premises. Your adopting an anonymous persona does not negate those rules.” 
“Your rules are stupid and unfair! Adrien is amazing! He gets the highest grades! He has an insane work ethic, and is always kind and respectful to everyone! He does everything you ask of him! And then he does more! He’s an Olympic level fencer and is fluent in three languages!
“And somehow, you still find him wanting. You never give him the time of day. You never tell him you’re proud of him or that you love him! At best, you ignore him, and at worst you take the time to point out every tiny fault!” 
“He internalizes everything you say, everything you ask for. He tears himself to pieces trying to meet your impossible expectations, he buries his struggles and doubts, and you don’t even acknowledge his effort or his love for you.” 
Nino was shaking in rage at this point. Gabriel still seemed unaffected. 
“Are you finished?” The man asked indifferently. 
“No! I’m not! I don’t know if you know how much you’ve harmed him! How many times I’ve been legit worried that he was going to hurt himself or give up! 
“Somehow, he’s been able to survive it. But not because of any of the crap  you’ve taught him about being strong and exceptional. He’s just that resilient!” 
“Which is a good thing because he’s also Chat Noir!”
Gabriel’s lips tightened and his eyes narrowed, and Nino wanted to run a victory lap for finally getting a reaction from the asshole. 
Nino barreled forward. “He manages being a superhero in between all the hoops and circus you run him through! And if he’s been struggling more than normal lately, it’s only because Hawkmoth has been putting him through the wringer.” 
“Nathalie!” He called. 
Nathalie marched into the room so fast, Nino was convinced she had been waiting right outside the open door the entire time listening in. 
“Didn’t we eliminate the possibility of Adrien being Chat Noir during Gorizilla?” 
Nathalie typed something into her tablet and handed it to him. 
“It looks like we did not get facial confirmation, sir. The person we presumed to be Adrien was wearing a helmet.” 
Gabriel removed his glasses and began cleaning them. “My own son, this entire time.” 
Nino felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at Gabriel’s emotionless words that felt like a prison sentence.
Nino’s miraculous beeped. 
Gabriel’s stormy grey eyes shot toward the sound, and Nino took an involuntary step back.
And then Adrien’s father did something Nino never would have predicted. He lunged forward and struck Nino in the knee, and grabbed for the snake miraculous.
Nino dropped to the ground in agony, and jerked his arm just out of reach behind his back. 
“Second chance!” Nino screamed, sliding his other hand over the switch, grateful that he had so much practice in the last few days that the motion was automatic. 
He was back on the roof of the Agreste Mansion. His knee cap was fine, but his heart was roaring in his ears. 
That had not gone as he had been expecting. Not at all. 
Gabriel had actually attacked him and tried to take his miraculous. 
Nino wasn’t sure what it all meant. But he knew it couldn’t be good. 
...
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rogue-durin-16 ¡ 4 years ago
Text
STICK TOGETHER
Summary: When Fred finds out Y/n is planning on leaving the Wizarding World, he canalizes his feelings in the worst way possible, which leads to a terrible outcome that seems unfixable.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader
Genre: angst
Tags:
Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality
Warnings: swearing
A/N: @meph1stophelian is here putting pressure on me to post this already so I'm apologizing for the poorly written ending lmaoo enjoy <3
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
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"Fred, calm down." George begged me; he walked by my side, trying to talk some sense into me, but it was not the moment. "You gotta understand her— throwing a fit isn't going to help anyone—" I didn't even look in my twin's direction while he spoke. "Bloody hell, Fred—"
"Y/n!" I quickened my pace, leaving George behind after spotting her in one of the corridors, having a chat with a couple of Ravenclaws. "Can I have a word?"
"Sure— Oi!" I hadn't waited for her to reply before grabbing her hand and snatching her away to pull her into the nearest broom closet. "What was that about?"
"Tell me I heard Katie wrong and you're not actually leaving."
"I can't tell you that." She plainly responded, her voice steady.
A single, gobsmacked snide left my throat. "You're joking, right?" My heart ached as if it was being constricted when she shook her head no. "So you're fleeing?"
"What?"
"Things are getting ugly so you're running away."
Her eyes dug into mines as she stayed in a very uncomfortable silence before replying with. "So what if I am?" When I averted my eyes from hers, she called my name. Her eyes were somewhat softer now, with a gleam of plea in them. "For the last two years we had nothing but tragedy. Diggory died, You-Know-Who is back and recruiting, the ministry is full on going against a teenager, this pink colored nasty toad is physically abusing us, and on top of that, I have to put up with my housemates' bullshit for having muggle blood— I'm tired!" Her voice had raised a bit, enough for me to know she was struggling to keep it at bay, but still managed to. "If I can have a life out of this then—"
"You're a coward."
"Fred." there was a warning on her tone, but I couldn't listen.
"You're leaving... people behind," she attempted to reason; I didn't let her. "Dunno why I'm surprised, really. At the end of the day you're a Slytherin for a reason."
Her eyes started to well up, and I couldn't tell if it was with anguish or fury. I knew I was getting under her skin, but that was exactly what I intended to do; if I was going to leave that room scarred, so would she.
"Self-preservation, you call it." I scoffed, feeling my own rage building up faster each passing second. "Pure cowardy."
"Is that what you think?" Her tone wasn't steady anymore; she was holding back the poison of her words, for my sake.
"Yeah." I wasn't capable of doing the same thing for hers. "And I don't want your cheap excuses and emotional manipulation to convince me otherwise." My face was probably red due to the anger, my jaw and fists hurt from clenching them; I was off the rails, and the person who would usually stop me was standing in front of me. "Better leave now so you don't have the chance to sell us out when shit goes down."
Silence fell upon us, our gazes locked, equally watery and with the same amount of fury and sadness within them.
And finally she snapped. "Maybe I'm a coward, but you're a self-absorbed prat who's not able to see beyond your own ego!" The way she said it hurt me more than the sentence itself. "This is not gonna be a DADA class, Fred! I don't want to fucking die because I was too slow casting Protego."
"Good luck, Y/l/n." I curtly wished her before stalking out of the broom closet I have initially dragged her into.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
We avoided each other for a week. The following Monday, when I entered the Great Hall, I found George and Katie quite depressed.
"What's gotten into you?"
They shared a look before my brother turned to me, deciding to break the news himself.
"Y/n left last night." He gave me an apologetic look. "Thought she'd wait until the graduation—"
"But she's had enough." Katie finished, toying with her breakfast. "Honestly, I wish I had a life in the muggle world too."
My lungs were refusing to take the air inside; I felt as if I would choke if I stayed there, so I stormed out, jogging to reach the countryard.
I needed to breathe.
Even after the wind hit my face, that vital task felt like the most difficult thing in the world to accomplish.
I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her.
A sob escaped my chest, realising the harsh words I had spat at her were probably the last ones she would ever hear from me.
I love her.
A Year And A Half Later
READER'S P. O. V.
I managed to apparate somewhere in the cornfield —the only place around the Burrow I remembered clearly.
I should have landed with a broom, but apparently, Mad-Eye didn't inform Lupin that I would serve as an extra escort for Harry if they were ambushed, so my broom was now smashed somewhere down the muggle road we had flown over.
Mentally cursing the damn moment in which I spoke to Shacklebolt in hopes of being useful in this war, I looked for the entrance of the Weasley home, which took me quite a while.
Funnily enough, it was Lupin who stepped out, wielding his wand and casting yet another hex at me that I somehow managed to block.
With a swift wave of my hand, he was propelled back into the house. "YOU!" A long-haired redhead I recognized as the eldest Weasley helped my old Professor up as I stalked to them with my wand up. "YOU HEXED MY BLOODY BROOM! I'M LUCKY TO BE ALIVE!"
"Y/n, calm down—" Shacklebolt was now besides me with his hands up. "He didn't know you were coming— he was trying to protect George from further harm."
My brain was slow to process his words, but as soon as it did, I started to down my arm. "What happened?"
"Snape hit him with the sectumsempra." My eyes widened at Lupin's heavy words.
"Did everyone else make it?" The three of them remained silent, the ginger shaking his head no.
My breath caught up in my throat, but before I could ask if Fred was alright, another tall ginger flashed the corner of my eye, and my head snapped to the living room's door.
FRED'S P. O. V.
Everyone was scattered around the house. Ginny took Hermione and Fleur to her room; Ron and Harry made its way up too; Tonks went out —she needed a moment alone to mourn Mad-Eye—, and, while my parents and I stayed with George, Lupin, Shacklebolt and Bill went to guard the entrance.
I was still kneeling by George's side, holding his hand while our mother healed his wound the best she could, when we heard a yell followed by a strong blow in the kitchen.
I looked at my mum and dad, my eyes flickering to my twin while I reached for my wand.
As I got up, more yells were heard, this time clearer; the voice was familiar— I knew that voice all too well.
There she stood, at the entrance of my home.
Her eyes met mines as soon as she caught a glimpse of me, and my head started to spin. I knew I had no right to do what I was about to do, but after that night's events, in which the war became very much real, I couldn't help but rush to her and engulf her in a tight hug.
Surprisingly enough, I couldn't take more than two steps forward, since she did what I intended to do first.
"You're alright." She mumbled against my shoulder. My eyes shut, trying to block the tears that threatened to fall. "How's he?" She inquired whilst pulling away with a concerned frown.
Not trusting my voice, I nodded in the living room's direction. A quiet sough escaped my lips as she passed by, her hands lingering on my arms for a brief instant before she entered the room and took careful steps towards the settee.
I barely caught a couple of words from George and Y/n's exchange, my mind still buzzing due to the shock.
"What do you say, Freddie?" I frowned at my twin, regretting not listening to the conversation. "She can take my bed, right? I'm not gonna get far anyway."
"Right." I agreed, struggling for my voice to come out steady. It was Y/n we were talking about; I had known her since our fourth year, I had been friends and more with her, seeing her shouldn't be that nerve-wracking.
A couple of minutes later, we were all heading to our respective rooms, and as I closed my room's door behind me and Y/n, it dawned on me that I had underestimated the anxiety that could cause me being left alone with her.
Get it together, Fred.
"If you want, you can grab a shirt from the drawer." I finally managed to speak, motioning at the chest besides the window. She nodded and turned to it to look for one she could sleep in.
Now that I had the opportunity, I carefully observed her, and soon realized how much she had changed in the time we were apart. Not only when it came to her physical appearance; she stood a bit straighter, talked a little calmer; the joy with which she used to sparkle was dim now, eclipsed by a severe, worried attitude— a sign of us no longer being the kids who messed around at Hogwarts.
"I missed you" I knew right away that wasn't the best start for the conversation.
"It sure didn't seem like it." The bitterness in her tone stung my heart harsher than I expected.
"You're still mad?" The way I was conducting the conversation was making me want to bang my head against the wall.
She sighed, turning around now that she had the shirt on to meet my gaze. "A year and a half, Fred. You didn't contact me for a year and a half. I thought we were friends."
"You left me behind!" I talked back, partly because I panicked, but also because I, to my surprise, was still mad too. "What did you even expect?"
"A letter?" She questioned, throwing herself down on the bed. "I mean— I didn't really expect anything, but a letter would have been a good way to let me know you didn't fucking hate me." My eyes, now fixed on my lap, went wide when Y/n's voice broke at her last three words.
"I'm sorry." I mumbled, quite ashamed of having to apologise while also being scared of saying anything that could harm her further. "I'm sorry about not writing and- uh... I'm sorry about what I said to you. I know it's not an excuse but I was really mad and..." I cleared my throat and felt the blush creeping up my neck even before I finished the sentence. "... and hurt 'cause you- I thought that maybe I wasn't important enough to you and- yeah, I'm sorry about what I said." I tried meeting her eyes but they were fixed on the wall before her.
"It's fine." She shrugged, "I guess you were right anyway."
"I wasn't right-"
"You were." She hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face there. "Wanna know why I'm back?" She didn't need my response. "They're hunting down my family." My heart stopped beating for a second due to the shockingly deadpanning tone. "A friend gave me a tip-off— they were tracking them down. I got to them just in time." I refrained myself from asking about them —the less I knew, the better. "So yeah, you're right, I was a coward and left people behind."
My body shot up and my legs carried me to George's bed; without me being fully aware of what I was doing or which consequences it could have, I sat down and pulled Y/n into my arms.
Though she was shocked at first, her body soon relaxed into the familiarity of my arms, and she let out a relieved sigh. "You're not alone on this." I whispered, pecking her crown. "I'm here, okay?"
"So you don't hate me?" She murmured against my chest.
Maybe it was the fragility of her voice, or the warmth of her embrace I missed so much; maybe it was this past year and a half of regret, or the night's events, but I couldn't hold back my words.
"I love you."
And even though she went stiff, even if I had just blurted them out almost in accident, I didn't regret saying them, because I, in fact, loved her.
She pulled away to look into my eyes. "You mean it?"
"Yeah." I replied, calmer than I had been in a while. "And I'm really sorry about everything, if I could turn back time—" words and air were cut off by her lips crashing against mines.
We had kissed before, but it was on a bet's behalf or to prank someone; this was different, this was her pouring her 'I love you' into actions, and I embrace it gladly.
"No more running away." I commanded when she pulled back. "From now on, we stick together." She nodded, her forehead resting against mine and her palms on my chest.
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