#Nothing changes the content for the ones who can’t afford it

[bcacstuff]

Great article with Caitriona.

‘I’m Impossibly Excited About What Happens Next’ – Caitriona Balfe Looks Ahead to Life After Outlander

https://www.mindfood.com/article/caitriona-balfe-looks-ahead-to-life-after-outlander/

When you don’t know what the norm is – and in many ways actress Caitriona Balfe admits she doesn’t – it’s difficult to subscribe to it. Yet, perhaps that’s what makes the Irish actress Caitriona Balfe so endearing.

Caitriona Balfe is a wonder. She is impeccably beautiful, has style, talent and a warm, courteous persona, as well as the ability to excel at whatever she pursues. She is someone who retains charm and humility despite operating for over two decades across industries that have beaten those qualities out of more than a few who’ve gone before her.

In terms of the Caitriona Balfe that we see this summer, this is the woman who has won a legion of devoted fans during her dedication – now almost a decade – to hit time-travelling show Outlander. However, as the drama faces its final curtain, the Irish beauty – who has already reinvented herself once, having excelled on the catwalk in a previous incarnation – can’t wait to see what lies ahead.  “I look back and my modelling days seem a lifetime ago,” she begins, “and really, despite the success I had, it was a period in which I was never really settled or content. The fashion industry is so unstable, so volatile, so fickle. I was never in a place where I thought I had it totally worked out; yet the grounding it gave me was invaluable, if nothing else, by virtue of the fact it was so tough!”

Her time on the runway began with Chanel, before Balfe was photographed for the likes of Givenchy, D&G, Moschino, Alberta Ferretti and Louis Vuitton. Regarded as one of the most in-demand models in her prime, across a three-year period from 2001 to 2004 she walked in more than 250 shows. “Fashion, for me, was always about storytelling, with a real emphasis on expression and imagination. It offered me a way to express myself not just in clothes, but through mood, personality and even environment. It all meant moving into acting was, I guess, a natural progression.”

Yet the freedom to use fashion as a medium for so much else rarely falls on the models themselves. “You’re constantly told ‘no’, or ‘you’re not right for this’, or ‘you don’t fit into that particular mould’,” she offers. “It really teaches you resilience, to not take things personally and to keep pushing forward.”

Credit: Photo by Matt Baron/Shutterstock

New Direction

Having endured such creative short-changing, Balfe may have been forgiven for wanting to sink back into the shadows and pursue a new career that held rather more autonomy… which makes the fact she made a beeline for TV and film producers a little baffling. “Acting challenges me on a different level, emotionally and intellectually,” the star admits. “It’s where I find true fulfilment, being able to move into another person’s head and tell their story. For me, modelling was always a stepping stone, not the final destination.”

Scouted at the age of 18 while studying acting at the Dublin Institute of Technology, the tenacious teen joined Ford Models and was offered the opportunity to move to Paris, one she happily accepted as travel hadn’t been a luxury her parents could afford while raising their large Irish Catholic family.

Though she never made it to the ranks of supermodel status – “I would never have wanted that label anyway” – her worth comfortably kept her in the upper echelons of the modelling fraternity. It was only towards the end when she was largely hired for commercial catalogue shoots, that tedium began to set in and a new adventure beckoned. “I think you know when you’re done… in any industry or part of your life. And I think as soon as you realise you’ve activated that emotion, it nags and nags at you to do something about it. In the end, to be finished is a relief.”

One thing the 45-year-old retains from those days, however, is an exuding, radiating, luminous beauty. And she, unequivocally, appreciates fashion – indeed loves it now for the fact it’s a passion, not a profession, albeit is relieved to leave the towering stilettos behind. “Listen, I still love a beautiful outfit! I mean, who doesn’t love to dress up and feel amazing in something well-made and stylish? But honestly, as I’ve gotten older, comfort has become much more important.

“When you’ve spent hours on the runway or at photoshoots in heels, corsets or tight-fitting clothes, you really come to appreciate a great pair of trainers… or soft, oversized sweaters. These days, I’m much more about blending style with practicality. It’s all about balance. Comfort, for me, doesn’t mean sacrificing style; it just means I’m not willing to suffer for fashion like I might have in the past!”

Towards the end of the noughties Balfe found herself in New York. Aged 29 she was already feeling the scrutiny that comes with being a model approaching their third decade, and so she made the move to Los Angeles with a plan to return to drama training. By Hollywood standards she was a late starter, but her catwalk grace, confidence and strong work ethic meant she was soon landing roles, albeit minor ones – fans of the actress can catch a glimpse of her in both J.J. Abrams’s Super 8 and the sartorial masterpiece that is The Devil Wears Prada.

Credit: Photo by Action Press/Shutterstock

Good fortune

She may have suspected she would spend the next few years steadily progressing through auditions and the uncertainty of work, in much the same way as she had in her later years in fashion, however just as the fear started to set in, Balfe struck gold. Of course, with all the gracious humility she carries with her, she didn’t even know it at the time.

The nugget was a television series based around Claire Fraser, a former World War II nurse in Scotland who is cast back into the mid-18th century and ends up joining a raggedy band of rebel Highlanders – an unusual concept to say the least. Furthermore, Balfe’s was one of hundreds of audition tapes that landed on the casting agent’s desk. However, land the role she did, and now as filming commences for the eighth and final series of Outlander, it’s hard to imagine anyone else in the lead role – a woman who is fierce but authentic, a kind healer who is devoted to the rough and ready clansman, Jamie (played by Scottish heartthrob, Sam Heughan).

Claire and Jamie’s romance has overcome many obstacles across several time zones, and Balfe is grateful to have occupied such an intimate role with someone she considers a close friend. “When Sam and I first started this journey, we had no idea it would go on this long. Now, we’ve been through so much together – professionally and personally. It’s been a real joy, but we’ve also learned to step back a bit off-camera. We used to spend more time together, but now we know when to take a breather. You have to, or else you’ll go mad!”

With a long season seven concluding in January, the Outlander epic will close out within the next 18 months, taking the episode total to 101. “Right now, I don’t know how the story ends. I’ve resisted finding out. Sam knows and likes to hold it over me, but I think it’s more fun not knowing. It keeps me in the moment as Claire.”

Perhaps what makes the Outlander journey easier to leave behind is the fact Balfe has been driven and exemplary on several side projects. The first, and arguably most important, has been in becoming a mother in August of 2021. Given the devotion of the Outlander fanbase and the general hysteria that surrounds celebrity, Balfe and her husband, music producer Tony McGill, have decided to not reveal their son’s name. In fact, the entire pregnancy was shrouded in secrecy, despite the actress filming the sixth season of the drama while pregnant.

Irish Roots

Her other most notable work outside of the hit show was arguably in Kenneth Branagh’s Academy Award-winning film Belfast, for which Balfe was nominated for Best Supporting Actress. Touching, honest and genuinely moving, Belfast brings to life those who were so intimately affected by Northern Ireland’s infamous ‘troubles’. Semi-biographical and set in 1969, the film focuses on Buddy, a charming and lively nine-year-old, played by Jude Hill. Balfe plays Buddy’s Ma, a homely Protestant woman who is bound to the city she lives in. As tensions begin to rise, this once peaceful Belfast street becomes dangerous and deeply polarised. Ma is ferocious and formidable in her love for her family. “Growing up in Dublin, I felt such a pure connection to the issues people faced for so many decades in Ireland. The conflict rages on, but these days it is verbal, and that’s much more preferable to the violence and the terror that permeated so much of when we were young.”

When casting the film, Branagh was keen to enlist actors who had a personal connection to the content. Belfast native Jamie Dornan plays Pa; the mother of Dame Judi Dench (who plays Granny) was from Dublin.

However it is Balfe who has the most visceral childhood memories. In the years following Balfe’s birth in 1979, her family moved to Tedavnet, a rural village in Ireland near the Northern Irish border. Her father had an enviable job as a police sergeant while her mother tended their brood of five biological and two adopted children. Checkpoints, bomb scares and gun-wielding soldiers, therefore, were simply normal parts of her childhood landscape.

Despite the turbulence of childhood, the star has nothing but fondness for her home country. “Ireland will always be home for me, no matter where I am or how far I’ve travelled. There’s something deeply grounding about coming back – it centres me in a way nowhere else can. I think it’s a combination of the people, the land, the familiarity. I love the energy and sense of community you find in Ireland; it’s unique,” she says.

“When I get the chance to visit, I relish the simple pleasures – whether it’s sharing a cup of good coffee with family, a quiet morning surrounded by the countryside, or just walking around the place where I grew up. It’s these little moments that remind me of my roots and they always bring me back to a place of calm and balance amidst the craziness of life and work.”

Despite not snagging a statuette for her performance, Belfast made evident the talent and promise Balfe possesses. And moving forward, the pursuit of new projects and bigger experiences has even led the actress to sit in the director’s chair, having taken on the role of Executive Producer for an episode in season seven of Outlander. “It was terrifying,” she laughs, “I won’t lie! However, it’s always been something I’ve wanted to try. On a show like that, we are a family. There’s such a sense of trust and that made it easier for me to step into the role. Sam and I joke that we’ve been through it all at this point, so nothing really surprises us, and we permit ourselves to make mistakes, and to learn as we progress.”

It’s that sense of grounded excitement that makes Balfe a gift of grace amongst so many who bulldoze their way into the picture. “I’m at the point where stepping back seems the wrong thing to do. A bit like leaving the fashion world, I think I’ll know when the time is right; but in my head, I am impossibly excited about what happens next.”

Caitriona Balfe’s Career Highlights

Outlander

The historical drama television series is based on the Outlander novel series by Diana Gabaldon. Balfe plays a nurse A nurse in World War II who mysteriously goes back in time to Scotland in 1743. There, she meets a Highland warrior and gets drawn into an epic rebellion.

Belfast

The Oscar-winning film by director and writer Kenneth Branagh is about a young boy and his working-class Belfast family’s experience in the tumultuous late 1960s.

Money Monster

Balfe starred in the American crime thriller, Money Monster, about a financial TV host Lee Gates [played by George Clonney] and his producer Patty [played by Julia Roberts] who are put in an extreme situation when an irate investor takes them and their crew as hostage.

Modelling

After being scouted by Ford Models age 18, Balfe modelled for 10 years, including three years on the catwalks in Paris.

[hiyaluronic]

Anyone else have anxiety flashbacks at the state of the role when three people on a couch were talking about a streaming service?

but, in all seriousness, I’m happy I can drop the twitch sub I have to support them directly AND you mean I get perks too? 🤩 awesomeness!

I love the critical role abridged and the cooldown — that alone is worth the money. Especially since marisharayguns has retired, I believe? (which no ill will there, they are a boss and deserve to relax and enjoy cr as a fan.) because some episodes my attention will not hold and then I fall behind and dread the catch up.

so yes I subbed and dropped my twitch sub and am happily ready to watch all the new things, lol.

[anadiasmount]

glory box - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: pr stunts looks good on paper and online, but no one ever truly know what happens behind closed doors. when deciding to abruptly terminating your contract, you’re faced with a unsettlement that can’t be resolved until you confess the truth and nothing but the truth.

wc: 7k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa🗣️: this contain smut so minors please dni! 🔞 content ahead contains unprotected p and v, being tied up, handjob, oral on f, and being edged. a bunch of angst but fluff as promised! my longest story yet and I really love this :PP insta au's included throughout the story! like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

the streets were quieter than usual, always filled with people walking up and down, on their bikes, or with loud cars driving by. it could have been due to the weather, the grey skies and cold air, immediately making people rather stay inside than stroll around. you would rather be those people, either finish packing for your move to germany, or sit on the couch and eat sweets all night. 

the decision was made rapidly. being accepted to uni and the internship that would help you start of your career, going full ride as long as you made no mistakes or fell behind. you felt utterly grateful and full of joy, but that would mean moving away from the place you called home, to a newer city alone. 

here you had your uni friends, and some family, you weren't alone. leaving all this behind meant leaving them which you weren't prepared for. no one is ever prepared for a sudden goodbye, you hated goodbyes, it made you feel even guiltier. it wasn’t easy to break the news, with many tears and reminiscing, though the support would always be there, their words of encouragement making you feel less regretful. 

although you had one thing left to do, which was terminate the pr contract with no other than him. jude bellingham. the pr stunt that was made strictly professional turned into no other a friends with benefits situation. it was risky business, and became awkward when strangers or close friends asked you personal questions about the relationship. kids, marriage, how long you had been together, how you met. your life became a lie and you were tired of that.  

was it a foolish idea? totally. but you needed the money nonetheless, school became expensive and then you hardly could eat because you could never afford the groceries after paying utilities, your job not paying you enough even after the amount of work you put in. if there was another way, you wouldn't have hesitated to take it. 

you weren't looking forward to this, because saying goodbye to jude would make every plan and decision you made official. you would have had your pr manager do it for you but you felt the need for closure, even though it would be hard to receive that when jude was famously known everywhere. you and him were famously known everywhere. the it couple. 

they only saw what was posted online or on paper. a happy smiling couple walking into a dinner setting hand to hand, a media event consisting of many red carpet photos, being “discreetly” caught late at night stealing kisses, oh don't get started on the game day photos, or photo dumps jude did on his feed and story dedicated to you… they never knew what happened behind closed doors. it was all fake. 

the door opened, the creak making you squint your eyes and cover your ear. you saw jude walk in with the guy who made all of the pr stunt come to light, jonah. jude sent you his pearly white smile, a sudden wave of nausea hit you, reminding you about the first time you came here to officially sign off on the deal, now it was you terminating it. 

you quickly greeted jonah, avoiding jude because now you felt it impossible to do what you wanted to do. his confusion went unnoticed by jonah, but you could see hurt flash him, as jude’s body language completely changed. his hand trying to discreetly catch your attention to him. if there was one thing jude hated more than anything, it was being left out. 

“so to what do we owe this pleasure, y/n? must be something good?” jonah sipped onto his warm latte completely oblivious. you pursed your lips and looked up, feeling jude’s brown eyes drown into you. he watched as you pulled out a manilla folder, your hands slightly shaking as you opened it to reveal the contract. 

“i’m here to terminate the contract we have,” you said softly with a barely present smile, jonah choked on his drink, turning away to cough loudly in pure shock. you couldn't see it but you could almost feel the plastered face of confusion on jude’s face at your words. jude was stunned, not able to process your words. terminate our contract? 

“what are you talking about? what are you on about?” jude spoke as his brummie accent popped out more than usual, furrowing his brows as his hand finally touched your thigh trying to get you to look at him, but it only irritated him more as your attention was on jonah.

“you said if we wanted out, of this,” you pointed at the two of you, the empty space, “we had to give each other, well everyone, a two months heads up,” you stuttered, feeling your nervous system go crazy. 

“i spoke to you about this a while ago, but i made my decision…” you said surely, jonah nodding his head either in affirmation or still slightly stunned by your sudden loss in the deal. “y/n, i don't get why though? we still have a couple of months left? we have upcoming events and charities!” jude said with a crazed look. 

when jude saw you couldn't face or let alone speak to him like an adult, he scoffed and leaned back onto the chair, “no! i don’t agree to this. i won't agree to terminate the contract.” so many thoughts raced into his head, desperately wanting to know why you wanted out, or if someone was bothering you. he wanted to fight for you, to keep you away from whatever was pushing you away. 

“i’m afraid it is in the contract jude… if the other party wants out they have the right to do so… with or without the other person’s agreement,” jonah spoke defeatedly, running a hand along his forehead. “i’m guessing you know the terms and conditions that apply to this right?” he asked facing you, “yes, my pr person told me about it. i'm fully aware of the consequences.”

jude couldn't wrap his head around the fact you would be going along with this. that in just two weeks you would be gone, and a present reminder of the taint you left behind. was it the sudden fame you got that bothered you into doing this? had he done or said something to push you away? was there someone else who got your attention?

that made him even more upset, and jealous even. thinking of someone else making you happy when it wasn't him next to you. he envied the person if there was one, who got to hold your hand, smile at you, or dared to look into your eyes. those eyes he watched rolled back as he hit that spot that made you shiver breathless, the eyes that glistened when you laughed, eyes that he could get lost into, the eyes that never lied. even if the contract didn't state it like he envisioned, you were his.  

maybe it was a mistake to start a habit or create that barrier of awkwardness when you agreed to have what you had. but soon he realized just how attached he was to you, calling whenever he felt the need to be next to you, making unscheduled dates to see you even if it was for an hour or two, always having his arm around you no matter where you went. 

“it’s so beautiful here!” you said excitedly, with your eyes dazed and smile as you stared into the tulip field. you ushered him to hurry, immediately walking to the rows of flowers that layed ahead of you. he couldn’t stop watching, the way the sunset had a glow on you as you leaned down every now and then to smell the flowery scent. 

his hands engulfed your from behind, making you laugh loudly and turning to hug him thanking him quickly. It didnt feel fake, it felt real, the way his heart stopped everytime you spoke or laughed, when you pointed in the distance, when you told him a childhood story of how you became obsessed with gardens. 

“if i could buy this field, it would all be yours. i would do anything to see you this happy and excited every day… you’re so beautiful y/n…” he tucked your hair back and kissed you. it felt exactly how he planned the date, with butterflies and a sense of home. 

“i’ll have the terminated contract ready by next early next month. it will be signed by me and jude by then, you can drop them off at the office after you sign,” jonah said. the three of you said nothing, not a single peep or action. you jumped, the table shaking as the drinks almost spilled, when jude stood up and walked out and yelled out, “this is bullshit!”. 

your heart thumped in apprehension, knowing jude reacted the way you pictured it. your eyes followed him as he rapidly walked out, disappearing into the crowds of people by the intersection. your eyes stung, feeling the irritation and picturing just how red they would get, jonah squeezed your hand in comfort, “do you wanna talk about it? i know it’s not my place to ask, but i’m open to hear…” 

you hesitated to speak but you felt like you owed it to him at least, “i’ve accepted to move abroad for school and work, and i’m moving away soon. i thought about it closely enough and i just don't think physically and mentally could’ve managed this pr relationship with my daily life. i did it most off for a new chapter and start, to leave out the old and bring in the new.”

“well, first of all congratulations! i’m very proud of you for always being a tough fighter and always dedicated to your studies. it takes a warrior to do that especially when dealing with a contract like this, having to judge your every move and ignore the comments they say. like you said, if you felt the need to begin something new, go for it! you’re young and smart, and i know this move will be perfect,” jonah said encouraging. 

“and i’m glad you were able to think of the risks and sacrifices you would’ve faced if you continued it. the traveling, not being able to focus on studies or on the job, the fake smiles and interviews, plastering your face here and there for companies knowing you weren't happy. it doesn't make you selfish, quite frankly it makes you stronger, y/n,” jonah continued. 

“i know it isn't just that though... something deeper happened between you and jude. whatever it is i feel like you should tell him before it's too late. even a blind bird could see the tension, i think that is why it made your relationship even more believable… it didn't look like a pr stunt to me, especially with the hidden glances.”

you rapidly blinked the tears that threatened to fall down your hot cheeks, forcing yourself to smile and show no indication of how the move, jude, terminating the contract made you feel. blinking away at the image of jude’s face being hurt, you never wanted to hurt him, but the inconsistency the two of you had become insufferable. 

while what you and jude were doing made you feel alive, you wanted more. which scared him as his sole focus was football. it should've never happened, it was all a mistake, and you hated yourself now more because of it. for allowing yourself to get attached, to be consumed away by his words and kisses, for making you believe there was something more than stupid words on a sheet of paper. 

you sat quietly on the carpet, the paintbrush in your hand stroking the white canvas, with different lines and shapes, colors and patterns as you painted. jude had his tongue slightly peeking, a look of concentration as he focused on perfecting every trace of color on his canvas. 

“jude?” he replied with a hum, still focused on painting. 

it was a topic you thought about every time you had sex, or shared an unexpected kiss. would this probably ruin things maybe… but it would mean you tried. you sighed and nervously chuckled, your thumbs running on the pads of your fingers as you took a deep breath an asked, “after the contract ends, where do we go from here? us i mean…” 

his head slowly rose up… an eyebrow raised with a face of questioning. he didn’t anticipate you asking this, taken at back and chuckled a bit. your smile fell, feeling embarrassed as you had the urge to scratch the tip of your brow in nervousness. He cleared his throat and took a sip of water, his eyes bored into yours. 

“well, we end of course… the contract ends so do we, no? we could still see each other, when we feel the need to you know, but i don’t see why we would continue this? whatever you're trying to imply? remember this is just for public figures, for the two of us to benefit from it… its all an act. it's all fake…” 

you felt as your heart was taken out of you, empty and felt lied to. all an act? all fake? you knew it was a pr stunt, but you thought maybe he would feel the same for you after sharing constant nights and kisses together. Was there anything inside that maybe felt the slightest bit for you? with a painful smile you responded. 

“oh… right.”

“please don’t tell him jonah. not a single peep of what we spoke…” you pleaded, wiping away a tear that let out. jonah opened his mouth to deject but closed it, understanding you needed time to process what was going on in your life. he licked his lips and closed the folder, standing up and buttoning his blazer, “please don't make the mistake of leaving knowing there's more that needs to be said to him. you’ll regret it…”

—————————

spottedcelebreity

liked by: 349,908, and others

spottedcelebrity: after recent rumors of the couple splitting up, it seems like jude and y/n are together. what is your opinion on them? live show is present at 9pm so stay tuned.

comments:

user34: i still think its a pr stunt... theres no way they've been together so long.

username3: he looks so good!!! y/n is a lucky woman to have jude as her bf.

user50: the flowers, he is so perfect.

username21: fuck jude, i want to see y/n? ik my queen ate with her fit!!

username589: i swear, how are they still together? they weren't posting at all like they used to?

—————————

the limo ride was quiet, soft music playing in the background as you nervously bit the nail on your thumb. your leg bounced rapidly, your dark gown making flowy movements, attempting to distract yourself from the over 6ft tall man who sat beside you. before you could successfully terminate the contract, there was a club charity event downtown, which would be your last appearance together. 

you would’ve thought your “relationship” ended that day at the restaurant, but jonah still needed the two of you to post content, even if it was a small glimpse because technically you still had those two months left. you didn't want to get sued or be treated worse, for his and your sake you agreed. a month and a half filled with quiet silence, unspoken feelings, and forced smiles. 

you couldn’t bring yourself to tell jude you loved him, that for you jude meant more than a stupid contract, but he obviously wasn't ready for that. that didn't stop him from talking to other girls and making you feel less without knowing. he never was ready for more with you, focused on other people and things, and you really wanted to avoid another heartbreak before moving. the idea of never being enough for him hurt you, because after so long you sacrificed what you had in life to be with him. your friends, your family, your privacy. 

“i know we aren't on best terms but let’s keep it civil,” jude suddenly spoke up, making you nod carefully and look out at the window again. jude’s hand itched to interlock with yours, looking down to see you wearing the rings and bracelet he got for you adorned on your hand. 

he fisted his hand and knocked it on his thigh gently, a million thoughts raced his head as to whether the club dinner would go to plan and no one suspecting a thing. he was nervous as lately there have been so many headlines saying you had broken up. jude wasn’t stupid and he knew you were hiding something from him, he just didn't why you hid it from him. 

even though you had been nervous, it didn't stop you from reaching over and grabbing his larger palm and conjoining them together with yours. this was his day today, and the good persona in you wanted to assure he wouldn't be a mess thanks to your situation and feelings. your thumb softly stroked his skin, making jude smile inside, as butterflies appeared in his chest. 

“i know i don't say it enough, but thank you for everything you've done for me. the traveling, sacrifices, events, the fake smiles… everything we did together,” jude said knowing this would be his final chance to make things right. he could feel your hand loosen its grip, giving him big eyes as you heard him talk. “i am going to miss you… so much y/n.”

“me too jude,” you gave him a small smile, leaning up and pressing a faint kiss on his cheek to avoid leaving a print, but he wouldn't have cared either way, he loved when you did that. he wanted to relish every last second knowing it meant you'd never seen him again. he couldn't tell but you were a nervous wreck, you pushed your feelings aside once again to calm him, but deep down all you could feel was cold air and a pit in your stomach at his words. “i am going to miss you y/n… so much…”

you so badly wanted to run away in that moment, for allowing those words to mean more than they should. with a heavy heart and shaky hands you stepped out and walked out hand to hand inside the event center, jude glancing down every now and then to check in. your hand found home around his bicep, faking all the smiles and laughs when the media team asked both of you questions, complimenting him for his season so far, making sure to be the supportive girlfriend you have been so far. 

you immediately downed the glass of champagne as soon as the waiter offered, fanning your face because the room became hot. you said your hello’s to other wags there, taking pictures and talked with them as the night passed. you stayed close to where jude was as you watched him talk with his teammates and coaching staff. 

you checked your socials and immediately found yourself clicking on his story, a bereal picture taken of you when you were in the car when you had held his hand looking out and the small kiss print selfie of him. you giggled and hearted it, scrolling along some fan pictures and comments filled with relief as you two were still together. 

—————————

spottedcelebrity

liked by: 547,768, and others.

spottedcelebrity: y/n was seen wearing a glamorous dress, as she approached her boyfriend jude who waited outside their car with open arms. the couple seemed to have missed each other as their hug lasted a minute before sharing a quick kiss. what do we think about these two?

comments:

user39: same old same old.

username1: i think jude could do way better than her...

↪️user45: no way? i honestly think with his lifestyle SHE could do better than someone who runs for a ball every day.

user23: she looks so beautiful, shes so gorgeous always! 💕

username88: anyone hear the rumor about her moving away?👀

↪️ username3: WHAT

↪️ user43: me too! some wag gossip page posted it but we don't know if its true.

↪️ user73: if she moves away that means they break up...

↪️ spottedcelebrity: well that being said... stayed tuned for our 9pm live show...👀

user44: i'm so happy they're together! she's so supportive and such a good person to judge :(((

—————————

even though the night was dedicated to him, you still had your fun. playing a game of poker and winning while sitting on jude’s lap and feeling him pepper kisses on your shoulder delicately, danced with the girls, and took picture with them at the booth. you clapped loudly as jude had been awarded a small trophy for the season, when he returned he kissed your lips softly, savouring the moment by leaving a last kiss on your forehead. 

your hands slightly scratched the back of his neck as you slowed danced together, it was so late but no one wanted to leave. your feet ached but you could care less as you wanted to hold him like you were, to appreciate him for the last time. words didn’t need to be said, the way you both held each other said enough. 

the sudden rush of sadness hit you, feeling your hands come to a halt, and a desire to be honest. it wouldn’t matter two weeks from now. two weeks from now you’d be living a different life than currently, attempting to forget every trace of jude. beginning a new chapter and living life to its fullest. 

“i haven’t been honest with you lately jude…”

jude swallowed hard, grabbing the back of your head gently and pulling you to see your watery eyes and biting your lip. “talk to me. say what you have to say. believe me, you’ll be doing us both a favor by saying what you have to say. no matter how much it hurts or feels… put me out my misery. i need to know why you're doing this. to us…”

his hand remained there, holding you in his place, with his jaw clenched, his soft glistening eyes begging you for answers. your chest flooded with warmth, “if i do say what's on my mind… i’m afraid i’ll do the biggest mistake and regret… i’ve tried in the past, and it always take a toll…” 

“i’m moving to germany,” you deadplanted. jude released a breath, stuck in place, he scowled and gave you an unsure side smile. “what do you mean moving to germany? what for? for how long?” he asked with a insisting tone, brows tucked in. he could handle a couple months top, but forever is something he couldn’t do. it was becoming too late and your words were becoming his biggest nightmare become reality. 

“jude, what is the most thing that scares you the most?” the interviewer asked. jude thought about the answer, tapping his bearded chin with his index finger, a taunting smile with playful eyes. you stifled a laugh, covering your mouth not wanting to seem disrespectful. 

it was you. to lose you. 

“probably my girlfriend y/n. it’s my biggest fear yet, to think of anything happening or her not being with me? yeah that’s what scares me the most,” he nodded as your mouth agape, you offered the camera a nervous smile. just when you assumed you couldn’t be more in love, this was the tip of the iceberg. 

“i’m moving for school, i’ve been accepted to their program and their internship that can help me later on in my career... i genuinely didn’t think i’d get accepted but i did, and i’m doing it…” you told. jude shook his head in surprise, blinking rapidly to see if this was actually happening. jude was attempting to comprehend, how you could’ve kept this secret so long away from him. 

everything was making sense to him. the random cancelations, when you didn’t text back, when you abruptly left the next morning after having sex, no more ‘good morning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, how you dodged his kisses even when it was the two of you alone. he saw all the signs but ignored them. it was his fault. for not being able to see how things were being portrayed. 

jude grabbed your hand, leading you out to a private hall in the venue, and then outside to a white balcony. you tried to keep up, but with your heels and urgency to run it became difficult. some of his teammates and wives gave you suspicious looks, making you give them a reassuring smile and mouth a “we’ll be right back.”

jude paced back and forth on the concrete, clearly stressing, you sat on the small bench by the door. “you were just gonna get up and leave? just like that? without saying anything to me?” he asked his voice cracking, walking over to you. “i mean you wouldn’t care? you said so yourself that day, that when the contract ends we end,” you quoted his words. 

jude felt guilty because he remembered he had said that. he could still see the painful smile on your face when he said those words. “i don’t get you jude. one day you want me, the next day you don’t? why would it matter to you if i left? all you’ve made me feel is like a shitty person. you use me one day, give me hope something could happen between us just for you to push me away. yeah, i sure do matter to you,” you sassed. 

“it does matter to me. you matter to me. do you think i wouldn't feel anything for you after this year and a half?” 

“well, i don’t know jude. what do you think? i’ve constantly shared what i feel when i’m around you, and you don’t even bother, so why should i? it hurts me, i feel embarrassed at the amount of times i tried, but it will never be enough for you. we’re in this pr mess because of you!” you yelled out. it wasn’t right to blame him, for everything including the pr, you just couldn't hold back on the anger you felt. after holding it for so long. 

“i’m sorry but you agreed to it remember? you had your reasons i had mine,” jude retorted. “this is why. this is what i was afraid of. the constant arguing, not being able to make time for each other, the trust issues. i’m scared of losing you even if it is due to the smallest thing. i hate thinking of you not being in my life because it hurts me. to lose you would hurt me.”

“you’re just saying that..”

“i’m not just saying that. it’s how i feel about us and for you. my whole life has been dedicated to football and quite frankly i don’t know if i’m enough for you. i don’t know how to do all this… i don’t have the experience, though it feels right being with you. with or without the contract. i hope you know what i’m getting to… you’re more than enough y/n.” 

something inside you want to not to believe him that it would be one of those moments again. but the way he sat here begging with his eyes for you not to go made you understand there was more to what he was saying. “all those times i pushed you away i thought i was doing what’s best but turns out it was the opposite. i’m tired of that, i just want to start fresh. i won’t hold you back from your dream, but please, try to understand me, ” jude pleaded. 

“i do understand you jude, it's just troubling to find a solution to this after the amount of times we pushed each other away,” you said with your voice cracking. “i just wanna be yours…” you confess tears sliding down your cheeks, unable to get rid of the pain and chill feeling you experienced. 

“you are mine baby… from the moment you walked into that office, when we signed those papers, after our date in the tulip fields, you’ve always been. i was just a coward to continue letting my overthinking get in the way of our love,” he pulled you onto his lap, stroking your hair back, “please don’t leave me here alone… i love you y/n.”

“you love me?” you stuttered tears no longer coming out watching jude with wide eyes to see if you heard properly. your heart hammered in your chest, jude felt like he could hear his own pulse beat rapidly, he was finally expressing how he felt and there was no holding back. he wanted to make sure you knew how he felt, that you were on the same page as him. 

“how could i not? you changed my soul from a dark place to where now i picture us in that field of tulips. the moment i met you i knew you were special, everything about you captivated me, your smile, laugh, eyes, your kindness. i know i’m not big on communication, but it feels like a relief to finally say this,” jude kisses your wrist thumb tracing over your knuckles as he continues. “i love you, and to have someone who loves me like you do, is so grateful…” 

“let’s get out of here jude…”

the bedroom door to his room opened quickly, jude placing you on the floor before going over and shutting it. he strides over again, grabbing your face not caring about your makeup, and leans down to capture your lips with his. your hands settled locked on his wrist, allowing your body to rest at his mercy. 

“it scared me to think you would go away and be alone. where i can’t protect you or hold you like this when i please,” jude whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “don’t ever do that to me again. i can’t afford to lose you baby, ever,” jude confessed tucking a stand of hair back, closing his eyes and allowing the moment to pass.  

“i promise i won’t jude. you have my word.” 

jude placed soft kisses all over your collarbone, his beard tickling you as his hand moved down your spine to slowly unzip your gown. your head felt cloudy as his eyes stared at the black lacy set of lingerie, roaming over every beauty mark and parts he wanted to see uncovered. “to think you were walking around with this underneath without me knowing…” jude tsked. 

jude kisses a small mole by your boob “every inch,” then down to a faint scar on your shoulder “of you…”, he ran his tongue along your skin, making you lose balance and squeeze your legs together, “is perfect. so perfect and beautiful.” 

“jude…” you said shakily, he hummed, his hands gripping your waist and bringing you to him. “don’t get shy with me baby… i’ve seen you like this many times. this feels different because we’ve now said i love you to each other…” jude kisses your lips fervently, groaning at your sweet taste once again. 

“do you have any idea how crazy you make me feel?” jude asked, ending the question with a ‘hmm’. “how long i waited to hear you say those words? how you consume my everyday thoughts…” jude groaned, and squeezed your ass making you grip his biceps tightly. “i want to make you all mine. not on a sheet of paper, here tonight…” 

“then what are we waiting for jude? i'm here…” you say breathlessly, “i’m all yours with or without that stupid contract.” 

the kiss was different from the one he gave you in the hall an hour ago. this kiss was filled with urgency and neediness, yet also with undeniying love. he felt you crumble for him, your hand on his cheek not wanting for him to pull away. he couldn’t pull away, addicted to how you tasted, how your lips bit his bottom one and watched it pull back. 

he walked you over to the bed, your legs spreading for him as your back hit the silk sheets. your back arched at the cold feeling and sensation, pulling away from the kiss and let out a small whine. jude kisses your jaw and knee, standing up with his lips slightly swollen and tainted with your lipstick, gulping at the sight of your body. 

he made sure you were watching, your eyes stuck on his big hands slowly remove his suit jacket. his fingers slowly unbuttoning the white shirt, revealing his bare torso, abs and happy trail that you wanted to touch. he swallowed a breath, looking at the way you thighs suddenly clenched closed as he removed his belt and dress pants. 

your chest raised up and down, your propped arms now itching to be closer to jude as he got on the bed with you. “can i touch you jude?” your voice low, jude’s eyes going wide before nodding. you crawled over to him, where he layed on his back just with his black calvins and his prominent big bulge. you bit the inside of your cheek, filling the empty spot where you would cuddle his right side. 

you kissed his lips teasingly, hearing a small groan escape his throat, trailing down to his neck sucking the spot beneath his pulse, down to his chest which rapidly began to rise at your actions. “is there anything you want me to do?” you ask shyly sitting up, feeling intimidated by his brown eyes that were darker than usual. “take this off for me…” at his deeper voice he helped you unclip the lace bra, groaning at the soft flesh of your boobs, erect nipples reaching his view.

“you have the most perfect body y/n…” 

your hand slowly traced down his happy trail, nails raking, observing the way his abs sucked in struggling to calm down. “relax jude…” you said tauntingly with a smirk, jude closed his eyes in desire as he felt your hand reach inside his boxers. he shivered feeling your erect nipples touch against the warm skin on his side, now fully hard as you tucked him out his boxers. 

you slowly stroked his shaft, hand barely being able to wrap around his complete girth. your thumb circled the tip, pre-cum oozing and adding a layer of lube. he felt hard and heavy against your palm, kissing his neck to add to the satisfaction he was feeling. his right hand squeezed your ass cheek, as his left palm clenched the sheets beneath him. 

the way you slowly yet squeezed him, was adding fire to the pit of his stomach. he couldn’t focus on anything, rolling his eyes back everytime you squeezed him or gave him doe eyes. “fuckkk y/n… you’re making me feel so good baby… keep doing that… just like that…” jude moaned, squeezing your ass cheek again moving around. 

you continued the rhythm, feeling your arousal spreading as you heard and felt the way you made him feel. his groans, the way his adam’s apple bobbed, his low dazy eyes watching your small hand stroke him. he was so close, you increase his high by beginning to stroke faster, “like this jude?” you asked knowing the answer. “just like that… oh shit… shit i’m so close y/n. you're gonna make me cum…” you kissed him, hiding the loud moans he released as he shook around almost trembling. 

you giggled hearing him chuckle deeply. “look at the mess i made because of you…” you hid in the crook of his neck feeling almost too shy and embarrassed to face him. you cleaned your hand with the rag, looking at jude when you licked a small stripe off your finger, jude immediately grabbed your hips and turned you over. 

he removed the lacy thong, bringing you down to where your sex met where he tucked himself back into the boxers still hard even after cumming. the black tie he wore was placed by the night desk. he knelt down, your pussy glistening and begging to be touched, eaten. he took his arm and tugged you closer, watching the way you anxiously waited for him to do something. 

you felt his tongue slowly lick from your entrance to your clit, arching your back in pleasure, a hand coming to play with your boob as you felt him dig in deeper. he knew exactly how you liked it, the places, the movements, he was enamored with how delicate and sensitive you were. “no… please jude…” you whined, looking down to see him smirking when he stopped his movements. 

“patience baby… relax for me y/n…” he kissed both your hip bones, the skin at the bottom of your belly button and down to your inner thighs, he was teasing you, drawing out your long-awaited orgasm as much as possible. “that’s not fair jude. i gave what you wanted, what you asked for…” you say out of breath. 

he placed a messy kiss on your clit, the bundle of nerves then sucked between his lips as he pulled away again. you moved around the bed, finding it hard to stay still as he continued to devour you, moaning and biting your lip. “if you keep moving around i won't let you cum…” he mocked, watching you rapidly shake your head no. 

“then do something about it…” you sassed back. he raised his brow, coming back up from between your legs, glancing to the black tie that was placed on the stand. “you would like that no? for me to tie you up?” he taunted, leaning over to grab the slim material. he asked you first and you agreed giving him your wrists, feeling as he tied them on the headboard. 

he returned to his original spot, his large hands smoothing your sides as you struggled to pull away. he gave you a messy kiss yearning for more, jude circled his tongue on your nipple sucking the bead as you arched your back, his tongue traced all the way down to your clit, where you let out a raw moan. 

he held you down on your hips, feeling as his tongue entered you, he was being messy, being able to hear the heavy breathing and slurping he did as jude continued eating you. the familiar heat in your stomach returned, if he kept up with this, you would be on the edge of releasing. “i’m s-s-so close jude… please don’t stop…” you sobbed, pulling your hands from the hold on the headboard.

the intrusion of his two fingers had you shivering in pleasure, moaning his name loudly. you tugged on the fabric, jude pumping in and out as he took control again. He licked your clit teasingly, going up and down and side to side. “oh my god,” you moaned in relief as your orgasm hit you, your face tucking to your arm as your legs shook, jude still pumping and licking. 

he propped back up, sucking the juices from his fingers, watching how your chest rose heavily trying to calm down from your high. jude undid the tie, leaving one wrist still wrapped with it, he kissed you sweetly hearing a hum of delight from you, “doing so good for me y/n… turn to your side for me,” he asked and you obliged. 

you laid on your side, giving jude your free wrist back to him where he tied them back up securely. you heard him move around the room, guessing he was probably fully undressing himself. he returned back, hovering over you as his tip poked your coated walls… you bit your lip in anticipation. 

jude entered you, let out a small gasp from your lips as your nails dug into your palms feeling him thrust deeper into you. you could feel all of him, how hard he was, how desperate he was, how big he was, he fully stretched you out and you loved the feeling. you couldn’t hold back the whines and whimpers you let out, the position you were in allowed you to feel everything, as he continued to thrust into you. 

“not so soon y/n…” he pulled back, he could feel your walls clamp down on him, squeezing the life out knowing you were approaching your second orgasm. “no! no, not again please jude…” you pleaded for him to make you cum, he gently placed you on your back, hands tied behind you now. he spread your legs open, leaning down as he thrusts into you again, your head going to the side moaning, “jude, you feel so big… so good…”

“oh shit, shit shit…” jude grunted, kissing your neck and leaving a small suckle behind, his hands wanting to give up and crash his body on top of you. the way he was manhandling you had you close to seeing stars and cloud nine. his thrusts came to a halt, grabbing you gently to pull you up and into his chest. he undid the complete tie, your hands finding home around his neck. 

jude extended his legs, not caring if he was on the opposite side of the bed. the pillows were on the floor, the sheets scrambled all over, and clothes scattered all over the room. “i didn't hurt you did i?” he gently grabbed your wrists, placing soft kisses on them, “no jude.. you didn’t.”

your legs digged into the sheets, a hand on his shoulder as the other one brought his face to yours, leaving no space between as you kissed him. his tongue entered your mouth, being able to still taste the champagne and sweet taint on you. he leaned his forehead on yours, grabbing your hips, “i love you.”

your chest warmed again hearing him confess his underlying love for you, “and i love you.”

you reached between the space, bringing his cock to your entrance feeling him stretch you out again as you sat on him completely. you lifted your hips up and then brought them back down, “shit baby… you feel so tight like this,” jude groaned grabbing and pulling you closer as you balanced yourself by holding his broad shoulders. 

“Jude…” you murmured throwing your head back in pleasure struggling almost to take him as a whole, feeling the way he kissed your boob and squeezed it with his hand. you were chasing that second orgasm for the two of you, rocking your hips up and down and back and forth, like an expert of course. 

your nails raked down his back and chest, as you felt get closer and closer, jude following behind. you cry out in pleasure, jude gripping your ass as you continued to bounce on him. it was a sight for him, to watch you like he was, to see your angelic face, eyes closed, brows pulled in and lips were still swollen from the makeout session before. “such a good girl for me,” jude praised. 

jude felt so lucky, so lucky he helped you move against his cock, wanting to feel your walls clench even tighter as you reached your orgasm, not being able to get enough of you. “i’m gonna cum y/n…” jude warned gripping your waist and feeling the haze inside him beginning to spread around as you whimpered, tears stroking your cheeks. 

“oh fuck, jude i’m cum-” you couldn't finish your sentence as your wave of orgasm spread through your whole body. jude cummed inside you, the ropes of his cum feeling hot as they spread all over your walls, down to his shaft. your ears ringed, head tucked into his neck as you caught your breath. his breathing matched yours, unable to shake off the lingering post-orgasm. 

with your closed eyes, jude brought your lips to his, kissing them gently making you smile at the softness from him. jude never left you unattended, he always made sure you were left clean and comfortable, after-sex cuddles were his favorite, and right now that's all he craved for. 

“thank you jude,” you say, not only thanking him for this but also for being the person you dreamed of being with. despite what you had gone through with him, that didn't matter as a new chapter of your life would start here, forgetting every past detail to move forward. jude couldn't stop kissing anywhere, your neck, cheeks, tip of nose, jaw, and shoulders, he wanted you to feel loved. loved by him. only him. 

“never ever leave my side okay? i need you here with me at all times… my girl, my only girl only, y/n.”

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spottedcelebrity

liked by: 1,090,222, and others.

spottedcelebrity: steamy kiss shared with our favorite couple just right outside by his dinner! seems like this two couldn't wait to get the party started 😉👀

comments:

user2: OH?

username29: CHAT IS THIS REAL?

username194: the way he grabs her, oh lord end me now.

user3984: this will be the reason of my death.

username594: so not approprite? in public what the hell?

↪️ user11: oh shut up. let them live their lives.

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ynusername added to their insta stories!

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judebellingham posted on their feed!

judebellingham

liked by: ynusername, gioreyna, vinijr, camavinga, jobebellingham, fedevalverde, brahim, joselu, 3,540,999 others.

judebellingham: complete along side her 🤍

comments:

user93: they saw the pictures didn't they...

ynusername: love you handsome 🤍

↪️ judebellingham: love you more princess 🤍🤍

↪️ username873: HE CALLED HER PRINCESS OMG 💔

gioreyna: my bro, miss you hella ❤️

jobebellingham: ❤️

username: we saw what ya'll did...

user67: he is so bf coded.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You wait. And wait. And wait. 

Each day, each week, your hope dwindles. Barrett doesn’t change. He’s not going to change. You know for sure as you watch him storm out. 

That’s why you didn’t talk to him sooner. It always ends like this. He gets defensive, you get emotional, and it all erupts. If he would just listen! 

You sigh and hold your chin in your hand. You look around at your small apartment. Even when you’ve just cleaned, it feels cluttered. You hate this place. You feel trapped. Or maybe that’s your relationship. Probably, both. 

You don’t think it was that bad to ask for a bit of understanding. All you want is for him to communicate. Instead, he sits on all his gripes until the bubble over in another rant about the squeaky bathroom faucet or the way you fold his shirts. It’s always on you. You’re the one who has to make him happy. Never the other way around. 

This time, it wasn’t the dishes or the mopping or the recycling. Nope. You’re not attentive enough. You’re depriving him. You’re punishing him by not having sex with him after working overtime four nights out of five. It can’t be that you’re tired or hurt. No, it’s an attack on him. 

That’s where it all fell apart.

You tried. Once you got past the frustration and tried to just let the waters calm. When you started talking to him again and fell back into your routine. You were both too busy to keep the fight going. And a few nights, you let him initiate but something would keep you from going all the way. 

Something... 

You saw Wendy last week. She didn’t mention anything about the night you went out. Didn’t mention a guy. She said she had fun and you should do it again. You told her you can’t afford it. Besides, you’re too tired. She called you boring. She’s not wrong. 

You get up and distract yourself. Well, it’s not really for you, is it? You’ll clean everything from corner to corner so he has nothing to complain about. You don’t need him to nitpick another reason to hound you. 

So much for time off. Once more you’re spending it in misery. You finish vacuuming then spray the couch with some freshener. Feeling accomplished but not less addled, you go to the bedroom and pull out some clothes for tomorrow. You’ll go to bed early and get a head start. If you’re lucky, you’ll be asleep before he drags his sorry ass home. 

You yawn as you stare at the time. It’s barely five o’clock and you could keel over. These days, you’re beat to the bone. You can’t remember the last time when you didn’t feel like a sack of dirt. You put your work clothes on the dresser then grab a fresh towel for the shower. 

You wash up, soothed by the warm water, and emerge in a hazy cloud. You go through the motions of applying the discount bin toner and moisturizer. You feel a little fresher. 

You tuck into bed and scroll on your phone for a while. Six-thirty. You black the screen and close your eyes. It takes as much to put you to sleep. 

You dream about flashing lights and the clink of glass. You’re swaying to a drone of music, spinning and swirling. The place is painted in streaks of colours as you keep moving. And when you manage to stop, the room turns on an axis, keeping you dizzy. 

Arms wrap around you from behind and pull you back into a thick body. You can’t escape. You look down and know those aren’t your husband’s hands. Where are you? Who is holding onto you? 

You try to turn around but it’s impossible. You’re stuck in the strange embrace as the neon lights melt and the air pulses with shadows. You push on the arms around you and wriggle desperately.

“Let me go,” you beg, “let me go.” 

Your words rise to a shriek and you wake up with a start. There’s a figure in the room watching you, as if waiting for you to wake up. You almost scream for real as Barrett stares at you. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay before he turns away. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he grumbles. 

You don’t argue as you catch your breath and lower yourself back to the pillows. You can smell the tinge of beer left behind. He’s been drinking. You can’t begrudge him that, not really. Last time it got bad, you did the same thing. At least he came home. 

You cringe. No. Stop. Nothing happened. No one can prove it happened. Not even you. So, it didn’t. 

Your stomach mulches and you turn onto your side. The nausea roils in your stomach. You must be hungry. You didn’t eat. Yet the thought of doing so makes you even sicker. You burp and swallow down the mouthful of acid that sears your throat. 

Stress. It’s stress. And it’s not going to get any better. Not with everything you’re running away from. 

[sinsofbeauty]

Red Stained Sunflower

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Pet Names, suggestive nsfw content, Johnny being “nice”, minor kidnapping mention

Requested?: Nah

Overview: The only car breaks down and your father can’t afford to fix it. He doesn’t have many options, but when you suggest a certain someone to take a look at, he can't help but feel uneasy. Little did you know that decision will lead to a whirlwind of trouble.

A/n: Thinking about making it into a series, so let me know what you guys think! Enjoy!

Your father was very upset this morning, and you couldn’t quite figure out why. He was stomping around the house huffing and puffing, mumbling to himself as you fixed up some breakfast. Up the stairs, down the stairs, back into the work shed. It made you furrow your brows, bewildered by his behavior. You set the table and sat down hoping to find out the cause as he made his way into the room. You haven’t really seen him this irritated in a long time, and he moved around restlessly despite him taking a seat for the first time this morning… still quite agitated.

"The car is acting up again," he complained, shoving a forkful of egg and toast into his mouth.

“Again?” You ask, spreading butter on a piece of warm toast. “Daddy I told you it was bound to break. Why don’t you take it to the shop?”

Your father looked up, annoyed, and shook his head. "It's too expensive," he explained after swallowing a bite. "The fence is falling apart and the shed needs repairs. I can't afford to manage all that work on my own, and it would cost an arm just to get in there."

“You could always have Johnny take a look at it.”

Your suggestion made him pause, his gaze incredulous as you shrugged. "Johnny Slaughter?"

“Yes Daddy, Johnny Slaughter.” You replied.

His eyes dropped into something more serious than before, and you could notice the changes in his facial expressions. If he didn't appear to be worried about it, that is. "What's going on between you and that boy Y/n? People in the community are always talking about that family, you know.” This was his technique of lecturing you, making you look at him with utter boredom. "He and his family are equally dangerous! What happens if the rumors are true?” Indeed. Rumors. The ones where members of the Slaughter family kept individuals in a cellar to later consume them? Or the ones that they were ferocious and would try to eat anyone who approached their house? Yeah, those.

“What if they aren't though?” You retorted while arching your brow. “Given how much time I've spent with Johnny, I figure something would have happened by now.”

"You're still spending time with him?!"

Oops. Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to come out like that. As your father flailed his arms around, you were slumped in your chair, picking at your food. So, as he lectured you about your decisions, you carried on eating your meal silently. He mentioned the potential damage to your reputation and the possible consequences for your family. Although he had legitimate worries, you also knew that he had a history with them, which probably contributed to his strong opinions.

“Relax,” You said, waving a hand. “It’s been a little bit since I’ve seen him anyway. If he really wanted to eat me he probably would’ve come by the house.” Your father gave you a disgusted look, making you smile nervously before setting your fork down on your empty plate. "On a… serious note, just this once," you attempted to negotiate. "Let Johnny take a look at the car; maybe he won't charge much."

“Johnny Slaughter is nothing but trouble.” Your father mumbled.

"You already mentioned that," you retorted, raising your brows. "Daddy it could save us money if we give it a shot." You stood up from your chair taking your dirty dishes and shrugging your shoulders. By the look on his face, you could tell your father was debating long and hard about it.

Letting out a sigh, your father rubbed his temples. He shook his head once more in thought before lightly thumping the table. "Just this one time," he asserted. “I’ll check with them after breakfast.”

“I can always go now while you fix the fence.“

“I don’t want you standing mere feet in front of the Slaughter boy,” Your father said standing with his empty plate in hand.

“You really think he’s gonna do something?” You say, raising a brow at him before transitioning into the kitchen. The long pause caught you off guard, considering that you expected your father to say something snarky or a short insult about Johnny. Though nothing came.

Your father had made his way into the kitchen, dumping his plate into the sink with his utensils. He gave you a firm look, his jaw clenched together tightly. "Check with him after the dishes while I try to fix the fence. If you're not back by lunch, I'm calling the sheriff."

You smiled and nodded while placing your own dishes in the sink. You hadn't seen Johnny in some time, primarily because your father didn't approve. Though he undoubtedly had little choice given the circumstances, you knew he would keep his word.

——

You arrived at the Slaughter House after what seemed like a never-ending trip. Having taken the back way since it was a little faster, it led you to the backyard which seemed for the most part unoccupied. You peered across to check if anyone was working yet as you leaned on the wooden fence. If it wasn’t Johnny it was most certainly Sissy prancing around here, roaming the sunflower fields in her bare feet. You briefly blinked, but you couldn't make out a single individual anywhere. It could have been simpler to go the long way to the front. However, just as you were ready to walk away, Sissy appeared from one of the back sheds. She doesn’t notice you right away, but when she does she approaches the fence, face once stoic turning into something… unusual. Almost like a fake smile, nothing enthusiastic whatsoever.

“Oh that’s who it is,” She said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Lookin’ for Johnny?”

Your eyes swept the surroundings as you furrowed your brows and nodded. “Uhm yeah… I wanted to talk to him. Is he here?”

“Of course ya’ do,” She said, looking at you up and down. The woman had turned her back to you before calling out his name, walking away completely as she made her way towards the shed she was just in.

Your eyes avert back to the shed, seconds later seeing Johnny peek his head out. Sissy gestures behind her and says something that you couldn’t quite hear, but it prompts Johnny to tuck something away and head over. Never have you seen a man jog so fast in his life.

“Hey sunshine!” As a silly grin developed on his face, his voice resonated in your ears. He walked up to you with his head tilted to the side and his thumbs in his belt loops. “Finally came ta’ see me hm? I thought I’d have to kidnap you from yer old man.”

You smile softly, watching as you take a step away from the fence. “The old man is the reason why I didn’t come.” You spoke to him. “I thought you’d be mad about it.”

“Mad?” Johnny chuckled as he leaned his arms on the fence. “Bein’ honest? I knew ya’d come crawlin’ back, ya’ can’t resist me~.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a smirk, making him cackle in response. Johnny had a tendency to be quite… charming. Flirtatious if you might say. He was a very attractive man and he knew that, with a simple snap of a finger he could probably get a dozen women on their knees. Maybe it was one of the reasons why he would get so many lingering stares when he’s in town. It’s not like you haven’t seen him there getting stuff like tools or groceries. The man could be persuasive as well. If it wasn’t for his good looks and deadly charm, your intentions would probably be… elsewhere.

“I suppose the reason you’re here isn’t jus’ ta’ see me, is it?”

You suddenly look up at Johnny, who is grinning slyly with his thin lips. Before shrugging your shoulders, your nose lets out an amused huff. “You can say that’s part of it,” You reply, making his grin widen. “Though I needed to ask a favor.”

“Anythin’ for you doll,” Johnny said to you. “What is it ya’ need?”

“Well the car is out of commission, not sure why. Was wondering if you could take a look at it?”

Johnny nodded his head and looked over his shoulder, gazing at Sissy who had just walked into the house. “Oh sure, it shouldn't be too hard now should it?” He said looking back at you with a raised brow. “Did ya’ tell yer old man?”

“I made the suggestion.”

“How’d ‘e take it?”

“You know daddy doesn’t like you all that much.”

Your sentence caused Johnny's eyes to flinch suddenly, and his jaw to clench slightly before briefly relaxing. “I could really care less ‘bout what ‘e thinks.” He replied with the small shrug of his shoulders. “But ‘e agreed did ‘e?”

“With a little convincing yes,” You replied with the nod of your head. “I was hoping you could possibly stop by today?”

“I can go righ’ now if ya’ want to.”

“That would be great.”

Johnny nodded his head and pushed himself off the fence. “Alright, I’ll go get the truck. Comin’ inside?”

You shook your head no. You expected yourself to be swarmed with his family. They did ask a lot of questions and you didn’t want to be bombarded to answer. Which honestly made you curious, considering what they ask is quite… strange. “No but thanks, I'll start heading home. I’ll meet you there.”

——

The lemonade you had prepared hadn’t been long. It was sweet, and tasted amazing. You hummed taking a sip from your own cup, setting it down on the counter before pouring another glass. Transitioning to the back door you take a glimpse through the window, which made you stop completely in your tracks.

There he was, the Slaughter boy working on the car out back. His slicked back hair came undone while little strands stuck to his forehead, the one he wiped sweat off from due to the heat from the Texas sun. Gloved hand reaching down to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up to wipe his drenched face. Those muscles, his toned frame as he turned slightly, all so shaped with scars of an unknown origin. It made your face heat up, cheeks dusted with a bright blush that only darkened when you stepped away from the window. Johnny was a fine looking man, and there was no doubt in his mind that you had some hidden feelings for him.

You opened the door to the back porch, a glass of cold lemonade in hand. Your thin flats make way to Johnny, strolling in your shirt and shorts. Jeez it's hot out. The closer you got to Johnny just showed how drenched he was in sweat.

“How’s it going?” You ask, finally approaching Johnny with the glass. “I got you this, you look like you need it.”

Johnny’s brown orbs flicked over to you, his brows raising in an instant. “You’re a sweetheart ya’ know that,” A smile spreads across his cheeks. Taking the glass from you he sighs, putting it up to his lips and taking large gulps from the beverage. You couldn’t help but stare, and when he was done he licked his lips before looking at you. Look at him all smug, the man chuckling as he took the hood of the car and slammed it shut. “Like whatcha see darlin’?”

You pucker your lips and blinked in shame, realizing you had been staring at him intently. Then you grunted and crossed your arms as the person in front of you laughed. Such a confident smile on a man. It surprised you that you didn't seem to care about it as much as you implied. “I’d like to see if the car is fixed,” You replied with the simple roll of your eyes, making Johnny take the keys from his pocket and wave them in your face. With that, you went to grab them but he pulled his hand back.

“I have a question for ya’.” He blurts, the keys still in his possession. “I remember the las’ time ya’ said somethin’— when ya’ came over. ‘Bout the sunflower fields, yeah?”

You blinked at his question, nodding your head in response. “Oh… yeah, I think I remember.” Raising your brows you thought about it for a moment. “I think it was how pretty they looked in the evening. Though I didn’t get to stay for long.”

You recall it clearly leaving at that time. In your short sundress, you stood next to Johnny as he leaned his back against his truck while you spoke. The man had just finished his cigarette, leaving a difficult day at the back of his boot. Before you arrived, the brunette and a member of his family got into an argument. In any case, that is all he told you. You had just mentioned the sunflower fields and how much you cherished the scene each time you visited. How lovely they appeared in the garden in the waning evening light.

During that time you had caught Johnny staring, his brown orbs gazing from where he leaned at on the side of the car. You had made a comment, making him smirk and push himself off the vehicle. “You’ve got some nerve sunshine,” His voice all teasing as he took your wrist. The man had pulled you close to him, the heat from his body signaling your proximity. “We’re all alone out here. If I wanted ta’ ‘stare at you all night’, I know jus’ the way to do it~.”

The reality that was only intensifying your blush had slowly crept back into your thoughts. Johnny had drawn nearer to you, which you suddenly realized. His face was incredibly close to yours—just inches apart. You raised your head to see him as his eyes played with a sly sparkle.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout it too?” His tone of voice was playful. Given that you didn't react, he laughed. “I know ya’ are darlin’, considerin’ I have it on my mind.”

Your breathing quickened, and it seemed as though a simple step or downward lean would practically close the distance between you. You couldn't speak because your stomach was churning with butterflies.

“I almost had ya’, if it wasn’t for Sissy butting into what didn’t concern her.”

Johnny didn’t have to say much to make you feel flustered, let alone so excited by him. His words had made your thighs press together slightly, in an attempt to hide that feeling which pooled in the pit of your abdomen. Oh and did he notice. He was observant to say the least, so of course he noticed the subtle movement of your thighs just clamping together. Pressing together at his words that you knew in some ways were true.

“How cute,” He teased, making your eyes widen slightly. “And ta’ think— you didn’t want me, but look at cha’. Holding those cute little thighs taa’ hide what I do to ya’.”

“No! That’s not true!” You fought with him, taking the keys from his hands while he was so distracted. Johnny chuckled as you moved quickly to the driver’s side door, opening it and hopping in. Putting the key into the ignition, you look over at the man who was gesturing you to roll the window down. With a loud huff you did. Set his arms on the opening of the window, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” He responded. The young man watched as you turned the car on, the engine running to life and your face lighting up in the process. “Good as new. Jus’ a couple loose wires and bolts.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” You thank him, turning the car off. “Now I don’t have to walk miles just for a carton of milk.”

“You’ve been walkin’?”

“It’s been an on and off issue.”

Johnny raised his brows at that, but shrugged his shoulders moments later. “Well if it breaks down again, come by and see me.”

“Why thank you,” You roll your eyes and open the door to the car, making Johnny step away as you pull yourself out. “It’s getting close to lunch time, would you like something to eat while you go home?”

When it was time to close the door, you noticed that Johnny had been creeping up again. When you turned, he was as close as he had been before. It was like a predator stalking his lonesome prey, all alone with nowhere to go. He wrapped his thumbs in his belt loops, eyes glancing at the house before his full attention on you. “Shooin’ me ta’ leave already?” He grinned, making you roll your eyes again.

You cross your arms, this boy had some nerve. Standing so dangerously close and making those remarks. “I was trying to be nice.”

“So sweet,” Sarcasm poured from his lips as a large smile curled. “But sure, as long as it's as sweet as you~.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You could feel your face start to heat up again, oh did it amuse Johnny. His charm worked without even having to break a sweat.

“Playin’ dumb hm?” He had a cheeky smile on his face. “If ya’ want, I can get inta’ more detail.”

You were hesitant, feeling the raw stare of questioning eyes from afar. The tilt of Johnny’s head fuels your hesitation but only momentarily. “Johnny you shouldn’t be so close,” You say, your eyes wandering to the window who you expected your father to be watching. They widened and went back to Johnny immediately. “Daddy’s watching us.”

Johnny’s eyebrows come close together, making the bridge of his nose scrunch light folds. “And?” His voice lowers an octave, eyelids lowering to a half lidded stare. “Could stare all ‘e wants.” His eyes lower into a half lidded stare, his smile fading away. He looked… dangerous. “Ya’ liked those sunflower fields huh? Why don’t cha’ come by this evenin’ after eatin’?”

“You know I can’t do that…”

A hint of disappointment sparkled in Johnny’s eyes. “Why not?” His voice sounded almost monotone.

“Because—“

You hear the back porch door open, turning your head to see your father walking out of the house. Johnny took the opportunity to step back from you, moving his way to the front hood of the car. Despite your father’s efforts, he still had a suspicious look on his face. He approached the two of you, his hands once shoved in his pockets now out as he moved around to the side of the car where you were.

“Is she fixed?” He asked, Johnny nodding his head.

“Yessir, jus’ a couple wires and bolts.” The Slaughter boy replied. “Shouldn’t be any issue fer now, but yer more than welcome ta’ stop on by if it happens again.”

Your father nodded, inspecting the vehicle and getting the keys from you. “I’mma take her for a drive, see if she’s running properly. I… appreciate your help… Johnny.”

The grin on his face told you plenty. “Anytime.” Johnny said to your father.

The man who raised you had given you a side eye, taking a sigh before going to the car. He had hopped in and both you and Johnny moved away. “Did you want to come?” He had asked you.

“Oh no, I’ll get dinner ready.” You said waving your hand. “You’re just going to town right? It should be almost done by the time you get here.”

Your father had indicated that it wouldn't be long by nodding. He was aware that leaving you with Johnny could lead to problems, but since you were an adult, he couldn't stop you from doing it. After saying that, he drove off the property while you closed the fence in his absence. You watched as he proceeded down the road until, at last, the car was no longer in view.

“So… about the fields.” You turn to Johnny, who you had heard from behind you with his heavy boots. He’d been smoking a cigarette, the bud stuck in his mouth while his hand shoved something in his back pocket. “You said after supper?”

“Ohhh, are ya’ considerin’?”

“Shut up,” You scoff, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. “Maybe if you say please… I might consider it.”

“You’re kiddin’?” You smile and shrug your shoulders, making Johnny roll his eyes with the click of his tongue. “Please?”

“You could do better.”

It made him laugh, shaking his head with a malicious smile. He had cleared his throat, leaning in close to you before he purred a low, “Please~?”

It made you blush deeply, before coughing softly to look away. “Okay… you’ve convinced me.” Side eyeing him, you smirk. “Could’ve been better.”

“Cheeky lil’ thing aren’t ya’?” He scoffs. “I’ll see ya’ later then, sweet pea.”

Tags: @optimsluv

Part 2 is up! >> RSSF PT.2

[saerins]

°୨୧ MORAL OF THE STORY

+ sae x f!reader | wc 2k | content: both of them are just kinda selfish in their own ways, angst, mentions of alcohol

notes: haha hi guys …. i’m totally not in love with sae . totallyyyyyy … ( kidding i need help sos ) (∘⁼̴⃙̀˘︷˘⁼̴⃙́∘)

summary: you and sae have been in love with each other since high school. during your special day, he throws you a curveball.

everything’s in full swing.

dinner is ongoing, the meat station being particularly popular, as you expected. all your old friends from different schools are mingling along so well, just like you imagined they would. everyone’s excited for the big day tomorrow, and so are you.

as you watch everything unfolding from the balcony, you can’t help but smile. one step closer to tomorrow, one step closer to forever.

unlike everyone else, you abstain from drinking yourself silly. they can afford to be hungover tomorrow, but not you. won’t be good to see the bride throw up all over her wedding dress.

“you look pretty like this.”

turning around at the man who has your full attention, you smirk. “just like this, itoshi sae?”

there’s a pink flush on his cheeks and you have a hard time gathering whether it’s from your words or the liquor. sae’s only a little tipsy—not enough to consider him drunk. but he chuckles though, and it has your heart beating faster; he still has the same hold over you like he did way back then.

nothing much has changed since you first knew him. he’d always been special to you, and you, to him.

“all the time,” he corrects himself, both elbows leaning on the railing, looking at the sea view before the two of you.

giggling, you mirror his position, bare arm brushing the sleeves of his expensive suit. “i’m sure you know i feel the same,” you tease him back.

sae laughs a little harder, and it’s refreshing to see his usual stoic expression turn soft. “of course i know,” he says before turning to look you in the eyes, those teal tones forever magic when they stare at you. “i’ve known since you started having that crush on me back in high school.”

you groan, covering your face. “see, i knew you’d bring that up!” you complain, embarrassed. it’s kind of humiliating whenever he brings that up—it’s his worst blackmail material. “shush—i don’t want anyone to know. no mentioning it in any toasts or anything, okay?” your cheeks are heating up by now, and you have to pout.

the man beside you only continues laughing, both of you enjoying just existing in the moment, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he won’t say shit about that. because he always listens to you.

everyone else is still inside, preoccupied by the games hosted by the emcee.

“hey, y/n?” sae speaks up as your laughter drowns out.

you turn to him, narrowing your gaze and smiling, wondering what to expect from him—as you always are, because sae’s good at surprising you and you love that. “yes, mr itoshi sae?”

there’s a small pause as he swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes still gazing at you, from your hair to your nose to your chin and back at your eyes. “i’m in love with you.”

at that moment, time stands still and there’s a ringing drowning your ears, a silence swallowing you whole. it has you doubting whether it’s really him in front of you, saying the words you’d always wanted to hear from him.

“what—”

“i love you, y/n.”

and by all means, it should’ve been a happy occasion. you’ve dreamt of this moment happening over and over and over again. back then, you envisioned something different.

you and sae, twenty-three, finding out where your life paths are going, converging together and deciding to fuck what everyone thinks and go for it anyway. you and sae, twenty-four and making it past the one-year mark and defying everyone else’s expectations (including your own). twenty-five and thinking why neither of you thought to try sooner. twenty-six and knowing you’re set for the rest of your life.

that’s how it was supposed to be.

but at eighteen, sae had left without a word after your confession, a selfish choice. at nineteen, your friendship was reduced to one-sided texts while sae was off trying to piece his future. at twenty, you’d given up and let sae turn his full attention to soccer, while you’d hold no grudges and finish your studies. by twenty-two, you’d met someone who always put you first, someone who always knew what to do to make you feel better. someone who’s good for you.

“what are you doing, sae?” you ask him, nostrils flared from all the emotions threatening to spill out of you. it was easy to convince yourself that you no longer felt anything for him when he wasn’t here to tempt you, wasn’t here to taunt you for giving up. but since he’s been back for the past year, it proves to be difficult to suppress all the old feelings you’d tucked away.

sae takes his time to answer, because he doesn’t know either. he doesn’t fucking know why he’s only telling you this now, when he’s felt this way since you were both sixteen. when you’re both ten years older and living very different lives. when you’re about to marry someone else that isn’t him and it’s driving him crazy.

“i don’t know,” he answers honestly, suddenly realising the gravity of what he did and looking away ashamed. “i just… i love you. ever since we were younger, i- i’ve always felt the same.”

he did, and he still loves you. he was stupid when he was younger. he left and made stupid decisions like not even trying to talk to you because he didn’t know what the fuck he should do and now no excuse would be good enough to convince you to choose him. there’s no reason for you to. you’re about to marry someone who’s so obviously in love with you. someone who shows you off everywhere, someone who treats you the way sae wish he did since all those years ago.

what is he even doing? he doesn’t even know.

whenever he thought about how you’d react if he ever told you those words, he didn’t think you’d be like this; silent, tears flowing out your eyes, the cold creeping up your cheeks and bare arms and making you shiver.

“i wish…” you pause, looking him in the eyes. “i wish you’d said that before it was too late.”

he’d seen that coming. of course there wouldn’t be anything different to this story, not even with his confession. except, maybe, the nostalgia of getting a chance to say everything he never did, to the girl who always deserved it the most.

despite every single part of him that is screaming at him that whatever he’s thinking about is wrong, that people shouldn’t do this to the bride the night before the wedding, that little volume of alcohol inside him provides all the rush he needs. a swift sweep of the surrounding scenery is all he needs to know nobody’s watching, and before either of you really know it, sae’s lips are on yours and you’re so conflicted it’s criminal.

of course, you’re the one who pulls away—but there’s never disdain in your eyes when you look at him. a mercy he shouldn’t be able to afford but he does, only because you’re a saint compared to him.

it’s selfish; he’d always loved you, always wanted you, always never knew what to do with himself but now he’s dragged you down this rabbit hole and the aftermath isn’t particularly sweet. you’re sweet, though, the taste of cake that lingered on your tongue.

“i’m sorry,” he settles for, and the perplexed expression behind your eyes just serve to make him hate himself for this. he should.

you clear your throat, sniffling down your emotions before straightening yourself up and offering him a smile—one laced with ten years of melancholy and a lifetime of sae’s regrets.

“i’m sorry too,” you tell him, and part of you doesn’t know what you’re apologising for. is it because he realised his feelings too late and doesn’t stand a chance right now? is it because you’re consoling him for his loss? or is it because you’re thinking that if he had done this even just a few weeks earlier, maybe you would’ve changed your mind? that’s something to be sorry to your fiancé at the time for, right?

there’s a dull ache in your heart that’ll be hard to extinguish. it’s a sorry state to be in especially when tomorrow should be one of the biggest days of your life, but you’ll manage, just like you always have. the little girl inside of you is happy, even if just a little, even if this situation is a little questionable. but the boy she’s loved her whole life finally has the guts to say that he feels the same way.

all too little too late; now he’s just the lingering feelings of what should’ve been that you need to say goodbye to no matter how much your selfishness never wants to let go.

taking a step back, you purse your lips into a thin smile and reach your hand out. sae shakes it, the sad deformation of your friendship turning into plain formalities. “thank you,” you say, trying your best not to let any more of the pain show, “for everything.”

for being the first person you ever really considered a friend. for being the first person who always protected you from the storms. for being the guy who became most of your firsts. for loving you too, this whole time. there’s a lot you want to thank itoshi sae for—but where you’re about to go, the phase of life that you’re going to enter, it’ll know no peace if you allow sae in it.

this might be one of the last few times you ever speak to the love of your life.

sae chuckles weakly, the strength in his grip fading. “i should be the one telling you that.” you were an integral part of his youth after all. you’re the only one for him, and that’s all that has to be said. only person outside of family he truly cares for. only person he’d ever give his heart to. only person that can demand anything of him and he’ll follow through. only person that can possibly ruin him.

only person that he wonders what it’d feel like if he ever heard you say it back.

but he knows he’ll never get it.

“maybe… in another life,” and a small smile is all you can offer before you have to pull away, the tenderness with which sae holds you rivaling that of your fiancée’s.

in another life, he’ll definitely find you. he’ll find you and keep you and make sure he isn’t as stupid as he was back then.

but as he lets your fingers slip through his hand, as he watches you retreat to your future husband—he knows that this life is what matters now, and this life is where he’ll never be happy. and as the groom slowly looks away from you, to sae, and nods like he now knows yet does nothing about it, sae hates him even more.

he’s perfect for you. with you. both of you seem like you’re cut from the same cloth. everything sae could probably never measure up to.

so he gets ready. gets ready to go back and have an early night. gets ready to watch you vow yourself away to another man right in front of his face. gets ready to sideline himself and say goodbye to the one person he ever loved.

on your wedding day, that’s when the two of you see the last of each other; the remnants of your friendship being kept in the form of a photo in your form—groom on one side, sae on the other. even years after the fact, even when your phone’s been changed twice, thrice, how many ever times—it’s still there, stagnant in your album, never discarded.

on another side of the world, the same happens with sae. it’s there, as though it’s engraved in the album, favourited and kept hidden. petty as it is, the version of the picture in sae’s phone has your husband cropped out.

through all these years, sae keeps staring at it whenever he thinks of you, wondering what could’ve been.

[seichira]

the missiles we fire.

wherein ran haitani knows he has to let you go but he just can’t. he is aware that you’re hurting because of him but he chooses to string you along—until you finally decide that enough is enough.

pairing : bonten!ran x reader

content : fwb to lovers. angst to comfort. sfw but has allusions to sleeping together. reader with she/her pronouns. ran is a good brother. groveling. inspired by renegade by taylor swift!

he has never felt this way before.

no one has ever made him want to fix himself up. there is no other person who has made him wish that he had a better past so he can be a better person in the present.

ran haitani has never considered the thought of compromising and adjusting himself for one person until he met you—the bane of his damn existence.

not a single soul in his pathetic, dull world could make him feel the way you do. that is exactly why he is guarding his heart more than he ever has, because he smells the danger that comes with you, the danger of falling in love and getting hurt beyond repair.

he met you a year ago and you have been by his side since then, but he has not given you his heart. you sleep beside him on most nights when he needs you, but he keeps you on arms length when it comes to affection.

you hold his hand when it shakes with his anxiety but he refuses to grip you just as hard. you kiss his jaw when it tenses with his annoyance but you don’t miss the way he pulls away whenever you do so.

your bodies are intimate with each other most nights but while your heart is all laid out for him to take, his is the opposite. his heart is guarded by a strong wall that he never lets down. a wall you can’t seem to get past.

but lately, he can feel the guards on his heart wavering. and lately, he doesn’t want to see you because ran knows he is close to breaking down everything to let you in.

the past months, he has been wanting to whisper the three words to you when he is in your bed. he finds himself wanting to hold your hand when you walk side by side. he catches himself craving your warmth when the nights are cold. he wants to hold your hand as tight as you hold his. he longs to kiss you back when you kiss his demons away.

suddenly, he wants you.

he can’t have that. his irrational fear of losing rindou someday is already too much to bear. he can’t afford to fear losing another person.

he can’t. he shouldn’t.

he knows all that, but he can’t let you go.

he can’t give you everything, he refuses to let you in, but he somehow chooses to keep you.

in every passing day, it kills the life in you. it ignites the doubts and the insecurities you always had. it forms huge question marks in your head and it drives you insane.

“what am i doing wrong, ran?” your breath shakes and ran notices it as you are resting your head on his chest on the sofa where you both had fallen asleep an hour ago.

he swears his heart skips a beat when he hears you start the conversation that he has been dreading since he realized he might have something deeper in store for you.

this man knows exactly what you are talking about, but he decides to play dumb. “what do you mean?”

somehow, he wishes that there is a way to divert the topic and stray from this conversation that he knows is never going to end well. a conversation that can possibly change everything you both have.

“i want to know what i’m doing wrong, or what is not enough. what else do i need to do.. for you to open up your heart for me?”

he refuses to look at your eyes when you sit properly to look at him. he keeps his head turned away from you because seeing your tearful face will not do him good.

“it’s not what you’re doing wrong. there’s nothing else you could do. i just…” fuck, he curses in his mind. “i just want it this way.”

“what way, haitani? stringing me along?”

“we never agreed to having feelings—“

you cut him off before he can even spew out his bullshits. “but you know that’s not the case for me! i love you, and i understand that you don’t feel the same…”

ran squeezes his eyes shut because your last sentence just doesn’t seem right. he knows that you are in love with him and most of the time, he uses that to his advantage. but for you to believe that he doesn’t love you?

it doesn’t feel right.

it’s not right.

“…and that’s alright, really. i understand that you don’t feel the same, but ran, i think this set up between us will work better if you do it with others.”

this alarms him and he now has his eyes on you. there are tears threatening from your eyes as you stare at him like he hung the stars in the sky, as if he is not breaking your heart in this very moment.

“what do you mean?” ran asks in a controlled voice but he fails to mask the fear that is laced with it. he is terrified of the implications of what you just said. he can’t accept it.

“i’m just saying—this friends with benefits thing? it won’t work with us anymore because i love you. you can… find other people… to do this with, because i can’t do it any longer.”

his eyes start to sting from the tears that suddenly want to burst out of the dam. his fear is becoming more and more true as the conversation progresses and ran just wants to go back to an hour before when you were all cuddled up in his arms.

still, he knows it’s unfair. while he was peacefully holding you, it is now clear that the questions you had in your made were plaguing you. while he was alright, he was also breaking your heart.

“what are you saying to me?” he needs to hear it from you directly. it is going to break his heart but he wants to hear it anyway.

“let me go.”

he knows he has to.

he knows you’re right.

he knows keeping you here will only hurt you.

he knows. he knows. he knows. but still—

“what if i don’t want to?”

that was the trigger for you to break down and release the tears and broken sobs you have been suppressing.

“then, make me understand why you can hold me like this but not give me your heart. make me understand. please, ran. if you can’t let me go, at least help me understand why i’m here.”

ran curses himself as he can quite literally feel his heart being powdered into fine pieces while he watches you beg for him. for his heart. a heart that has been battered and bruised through the years but you love anyway.

“y-you know that i try to give you what you n-need,” his voice breaks so he pauses, “but you also know what i’ve been through. what i’m afraid of. you know everything.”

you shake your head. “is it really your past and your fears that keep you from giving me everything, or do you just not want to?”

he can’t come up with an answer.

“let me go. please, let me go.”

he grips your hand when you try to stand up in a feeble attempt to make you stay. his last resort. his desperation reeks in the way he squeezes your hand.

“i can’t do that. ask me for anything but that, please,” his voice breaks once again.

“but can you love me? can you give me everything? your heart, your secrets, your desires? can you love me enough to let down your walls for me, ran?”

he doesn’t answer, and you smile sadly. there goes your answer—his silence. it has always spoken for him when his words fail him.

at this point, you are just tired. you have no fight left in you. you fulfill the promise you made to yourself when you said you will accept whatever he says and erase yourself from his life gracefully.

ran sees that and he regrets not noticing when you decided to ask him to let you go.

“then, for the sake of the both of us, i beg you to please let me go.”

the daggers that rindou throws at his older brother through his eyes could kill. his blood boils as he watches ran drown himself in alcohol because of some stupid shit he brought upon himself.

“tell me again why you fuckin’ let her go. ‘cuz i can’t understand why you’re sulking like a little girl and poisoning yourself with damn alcohol when it was you who pushed her away.”

the sarcastic tone is not appreciated by ran and he glares at his younger brother in return.

“you just don’t get it, do you? you know our life! she doesn’t fit here! she’s too good for this shit! and what do i do if she gets hurt because of this hellhole, huh? what, then?”

rindou raises an eyebrow, “she literally knew the dangers that came with your life when she decided to love you. save your excuses. you’re just fucking stupid.”

ran stares into space as he takes that in. after a few moments, he speaks. “i’m scared that i’ll lose her.”

the younger haitani laughs maniacally without humor. “well, news flash, you already did—“

“fucker. she’s still in this world, isn’t she?”

“guess so.”

“that’s what i mean. i’d rather not have her in my arms than to lose her in this goddamn pitiful world.”

ran takes another shot from his whiskey and rindou stands up to take the bottle away from his godforsaken brother.

“give me that—!”

“if she was mine, i’d just keep her by my side and love her, and not let anyone lay a finger on her. you underestimate bonten and its capability to protect your girl.”

ran mumbles drunkenly as he gives up trying to get back his stolen bottle. he rests his head on the backrest of the sofa he is on.

“you don’t know shit, rin.”

“nah. i fuckin’ know ‘ya. these are all excuses. you’re making all these up to cover up the fact that you blame yourself for the life we lived and now, you think you don’t deserve her.”

the older haitani starts to tear up at the memory of not being able to give his brother a more decent life when they were younger. he remembers the days when he almost lost rindou to a rival gang because he failed to come home on time.

“the fuck are you? my shrink?” he asks in the middle of his silent crying. rindou sees that and he feels a pinch in his heart for his brother who has always been scared of losing him.

it is rindou’s turn to take a shot from the whiskey, to gain courage for what he is about to say. “i’m your brother. i know it when my brother hates himself.”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

“i wanna tell you that you don’t have to. you gave me a life full of pretty cool memories so stop beating yourself up. get your damn girl so i won’t have to watch this pathetic display!”

ran wants to blame his emotions on the alcohol but the words of his brother really are the cause of his tears. he suddenly feels forgiven. vindicated, even—from the regrets he harbors against himself.

his younger brother feels that he is closer to getting ran to listen to him, so he pushes.

“she loves you. i saw it with my own eyes, ran. she is in love with you. while you hated yourself, you were demolishing her. just fuckin’ forgive yourself and love her, damn it!”

that night, for the first time in his life, thinks that maybe it was not his fault that he and his brother had lived a difficult life. for the first time, he considers the thought that maybe, he deserves to have your love after all.

you open your door at five in the morning after being woken up by continuous rings on your doorbell, and as if that isn’t enough, there are even accompanied by impatient knocks on your door.

“i swear to god, if this isn’t worth waking me up in these ungodly hours—ran?”

he had just barely sobered himself up but he had to run to you before cowardice gets the best of him. he just had to tell you right now.

“i love you.”

“ran, what—“

he sucks in a huge breath, preparing to speak in one long breath-hold. “i am in love with you. i fell in love with you way before you fell in love with me but i was too scared to admit that. i was afraid that i didn’t deserve you. i was terrified that loving you would mean more hurt for me—but here’s the truth now. here is my truth. fuck my anxieties. fuck everything. i need you. i want you.”

you open the door more widely and you take in his cheeks with your hands, and he relishes in the feel of your warmth for the first time since you walked out of his penthouse a month ago.

“i’m sorry for what i put you through. i’m sorry for hurting you. i can’t promise that i won’t hurt you but i promise that i will actively try not to do that intentionally.”

“i never blamed you for what i felt, ran.”

an angel is what you are. an angel that he is starting to accept that a fallen one like him deserves. an angel for him.

“i will give you everything, y/n. i will give you my heart because i want to. because i need to. i can’t breathe without you. take me back. please, tell me that you’ll take me back.”

it is an easy decision for you. he is shaking in your hands and there is nothing else to do but finally welcome him in your arms again.

there is no other choice but to take him back because it finally makes sense why you always felt like he felt the same love for you. you finally understand why. your questions are finally answered—how can you refuse him?

ran falls apart in your arms, and he embraces you tighter than you hugged him. he holds you tight in fear that he might lose you again. he wraps you tight in his arms so you won’t slip away like a dream that ends.

“i’ve only ever wished for you to come around, ran. you should know by now that i will stay with you in spite of your past, in spite of your regrets, in spite the way you feel about yourself. i’m here to stay, if you love me.”

he no longer has to say it. the way he keeps his face in the crook of your neck and leaving revered kisses at the back of your ear is enough to let you know that he does.

“my heart was only guarded so much when it came to you because it knew that it belonged to you. i’m letting down my guards, baby.”

you slightly pull away so you can look at his eyes. the eyes that you used to wish upon a star are now staring back at you with the same adoration and love.

“that’s everything i need to hear, ran.”

“i am in love with you.”

you smile, “and that.”

“i don’t want you to be my future history. i want you with me forever. i want people to know us, that i belong to you and you to me.”

“that, too.”

you tiptoe to kiss his jaw and he shifts his head so he can reach your lips instead. relief washes over him when it dawns on him that this is real. you are real, and this time, he won’t mess it up.

the missiles he used to fire will be replaced by your gentleness and love, and that’s the kind of change that he can live with. because it’s you.

[fallecupid]

nsfw alphabet with art donaldson. ( headcanon )

.ᐟ.ᐟ warnings :ㅤ dom!reader.ㅤsab!art.ㅤfem!reader.ㅤnsfw content.ㅤword count: 3,3k.

( author's note : i apologize in advance for errors in this text / vague wording / words that are incorrect in meaning ( if any are present in the content. ) english is not my native language, everything written below has been translated by a translator. )

A — ( aftercare ) Immediately after sex, donaldson most often takes time to catch his breath, and later immediately buries his face in you like a damn koala. this is accompanied by his quiet questions about how much you liked it and whether he caused any discomfort.

B — ( body part ) of course these are hands. art melts in your hands, all these small touches on his hair, cheeks, and ultimately his penis. all this makes it the top of the world and brings incredible pleasure.

C — ( cum ) a man prefers to keep you clean, so he either cums in your mouth or on the fresh sheets.

D — ( dirty secret ) donaldson often jerks off in the bathroom, imagining something like bdsm. he wouldn't mind participating in something if it involves you.

E — ( experience ) can you say you are his one and only for life? however, his first time wasn't too damn terrible and he got better and better each time. after all he is a good boy and a quick learner, right?

F — ( favourite position ) donaldson likes it when you sit on him, it opens up a lot more possibilities. plus, this allows him to see your facial expression and understand whether he is going correctly.

G — ( goofy ) art will often say something inappropriate, almost forcing you to tease him. however, he is far from serious during sex.

H — ( hair ) hair is one of donaldson's main weaknesses, if you want to make it wet, just caress the light locks of his head. during sex, he will often ask you to grab his hair while you whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

I — ( intimacy ) art is a hopeless romantic. he suffers with every fiber of his being trying to please you. whether it's a candlelit dinner or going to the cinema with a bouquet of roses.

J — ( jack off ) sometimes he can afford it, on a tennis tour when you are not around. he locks himself in the hotel bathroom looking at your photos and completely worshiping you. sometimes these are video calls, but that's a completely different story.

K — ( kink ) dominance. well, you can’t hide that to some extent what turns him on is how much control you have over the process. more often than not, making him a boneless man who lets his needs come to the fore.

L — ( location ) there is no need to change traditions, so he fucks you (or you fuck him) in your bedroom, away from everything, only a lush bed and quiet moans.

M — ( motivation ) donaldson just needs to look at you to make his dick jump at a frantic pace. but it’s worth highlighting foreplay. what turns him on is how well you can act it out.

N — ( no ) nothing without your permission. even if he fucking wants you, he won't until you give him the green light.

O — ( oral sex ) he wouldn't perform oral sex on his own accord. if you proposed to him, he would happily agree, wanting to please your sophisticated desires.

P — ( pace ) definitely a slow pace. he wouldn’t rush anywhere, but rather would stretch out each thrust like a damn taste of pie on his tongue, giving you a chance to enjoy it to the fullest.

Q — ( quickie ) definitely not. neither you nor he like speed in this matter.

R — ( risk ) he wouldn’t fuck you in a toilet stall or somewhere on the balcony.

S — ( stamina ) usually your sex doesn’t last too long, an hour or an hour and a half, and you’re both already wet and damn satisfied.

T — ( toys ) unusual, but unfortunately not practiced.

U — ( unfair ) art encourages you rather than teases you. a few kind words and you have already pounced on him like a cat on a piece of meat. this is not to say that there is anything bad about this.

V — ( volume ) more often than not, any noise is muffled by your hips or pillows, so overall art is not a problem in this regard.

W — ( wildcard ) during sex, he is too often embarrassed by your comments about the behavior of his penis, so he sits under the covers while foreplay time passes.

X — ( x-ray ) something like 15 cm?

Y — ( yearning ) on a scale of ten it is something around 7/10. sex is relaxing and enjoyable.

Z — ( Zzz ) a man falls asleep once after you, so it depends on how tired you are and whether you will not have a continuation of previous sex.

[mossgh0st]

As If It’s Heaven’s Gate (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Summary | Levi is caught in a dark place following the battle of heaven and earth. Believing he’s undeserving of life’s sweetness, he deprives himself until you show up on his doorstep. Inspired by and based on Too Sweet by Hozier.

Content | Angst, Fluff. Sort of slow burn? No use of y/n. Levi is a grump, reader is shorter than him. Brief mentions of off-screen sex. Italics are song lyrics that each section is inspired by.

Pairings | Levi/Reader. Mentions of Jean/Pieck.

Notes | As soon as I heard Too Sweet, I knew I needed to write about Levi. Header is from ‘kii on Pinterest. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————

It can’t be said I’m an early bird, it’s 10 o’clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?

After the war, Levi becomes a creature of the night. His meticulous bedtime routine and eves of deep, restful slumber have become wrought with nightmares, teeming with the faces of everyone he’s ever loved having succumbed to their bitter ends. He’s forgone the tea, a relic of a previous era; he now prefers an amber liquid that stings on the way down. A balm that numbs, heavy bottomed glass filled only a quarter of the way. When he ventures beyond the confines of his home, he asks for the tippy top of the top shelf - Levi always takes his whiskey neat.

You know you don’t gotta pretend. Baby, now and then, don’t you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

Some days, he’s lucky if he retires before the sunrise peeks over the hills and pulls itself up to the high point of the sky. Letters go unanswered, bookshelves less sparse as he fills the majority of his time with thick, leather-bound tomes. The newspaper has becomes the perfect kindling, headlines boasting peace negotiations melt and turn runny with the heat of the blaze. When Levi wakes each hazy afternoon, it’s with the lingering scent of bonfire strung about the atmosphere. His once grey eyes have turned deep, a color so sharpened it resembles the water on a lake just before the claps of thunder rumble and bring down swells of rain.

But while in this world, I think I’ll take my whiskey neat. My coffee black and my bed at three.

He knows he won’t live forever. He’s not at all interested. At this point, he’s pleading for the same sweet release from the world he afforded Erwin. Levi has spent so much time dwelling in the night, the darkness is threatening to become him. Then, you show up, one damp afternoon. Modest sundress, two small bags, a green ribbon tying back your hair. The glow you emanate is too much for him. He wants to be angry, filled with a rage so intense it convinces you to leave running in the midst of the spring storm, ribbon flying behind you. The pit in his stomach solidifies when he can’t bring himself to be irate, softened by the cold flush of your cheeks and the sheepishness of your smile as you stand, delicate in his doorway.

You’re too sweet for me, you’re too sweet for me.

At first, your presence does nothing to alter his routine. You rise with the sun, the first blinks of morning are spent brewing a sweet coffee in his kitchen, silent save the chattering of the birds. The dregs of his previous evening’s fire catching in the wind and mingling with the scent of bitter coffee grounds. Levi rises long after the sun has hit it’s peak, emerging in loose slacks and a half undone shirt, the sleeves rolled. You cross paths only briefly, while he pours his glass of amber whiskey and you prepare your cup of evening tea. A silent understanding has occurred - you can stay, if you don’t intervene. So you read in the overgrown garden, take your coffee with milk and two sugars, visit the bookstore, the seamstress down the block from the town’s main square, and worry about him only when you are tipping over the ledge into sleep.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate.

The first change is subtle: tea leaves are disappearing faster than you’re brewing them; you know he’s dipping into the store after you retire each evening. Then, when the usual night terrors creep up again, plaguing your mind and leaving your lungs in a vice grip, the second change occurs. Levi waking and comforting you after a string of particularly violent dreams, a different sort of understanding passes when he murmurs, “I still see them, too.” You find him in your bed then, most mornings. Your routines still separate, bodies occupying different halves of the day for weeks. Coffee, bookstore, seamstress, reading, garden. It continues on, life in your solitary bubbles, except the brief overlapping in the early morning when your breaths mingle in the same space between your sleeping forms.

I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong.

The paradigm shifts once more when he begins to rouse the same time as you. A brief wave of shame washes over you as you realize he’s already awake, you cannot observe his closed eyes and smoothed forehead, the lines of his face set in peace, the soft parting of his lips, or the slow rise of his chest beneath the thin blankets. That morning, you show him how to make the coffee, and he grumbles after burning the first pot, squinting in the bright light. He notices you smiling out of the corner of his eye and something rattles around in his chest. You add three sugars to your cup. He accompanies you to both the bookstore and the seamstress, his silent presence a new comfort. Levi wants to ask why you chose him, chose his home, when there are happier and more accommodating friends, current or former members of the 104th. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’d be better off with someone like Mikasa, in her quiet cottage by the sea. Even Jean and Pieck, or hell, Reiner and his family.

You're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain.

Within a few months, Levi’s world has changed. It’s brighter, fuzzy around the edges. There’s a few sundresses in the closet of his room, a growing stack of books on his dresser. A knit shawl is draped over the chair in the living room; and the guest bed hasn’t been used in several weeks. He lets her brew the coffee in the morning, his palate now well suited for the taste, and takes chrysanthemum tea in the evenings. The garden has a bench now, front row to the beds of geranium, lavender, and snapdragon. When you smile at him through the kitchen window, an understanding dawns on him, an awakening blooms inside of him. He’s seen this look before, many times; over a shared water jug during an expedition, sleepy and exhausted over a fire surrounded by their comrades, during meetings with military leadership, after the battle of heaven and earth, and on the day you were assigned to his squad. You would never go to Mikasa’s, or to Jean and Pieck, even Reiner, or anyone else. He would never let you.

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape.

The first touch of morning is chill, a breeze dancing its way through the open window, sheet gathered at his waist as Levi rouses from sleep. He hears your hums from the kitchen and swings his feet over the bed. He’s drawn to you like bees are to flowers, cloying aroma and sunlight and all things good. Forgoing the tie of his robe, he begins purposeful strides down the hall. Then, you’re there, back turned and hair down. The hem of your pale nightgown sways as you wait for the pour of coffee, glowing in the sunrise, hands over your upper arms to stave off the late summer air. You’re lost in a daydream. Levi comes to stand behind you, listening to the melody you hum quietly. The deprecating, nagging voice he contends with daily in his mind is quieted - it’s just you now; always you.

If you could sit in a barrel, maybe I’d wait.

It’s quiet when he slides an arm around your waist, body warm and flushed. It’s quiet when you turn in his hold, meeting his grey gaze with lingering surprise and pink cheeks. It’s quiet as he pulls you in closer still, hands coming up to rest on his chest. Quiet, as Levi brushes his forehead against yours, eyes closed, fingers flexing in their hold of you. Completely silent, as he tilts your chin up, up, up, and brushes his lips with yours. The taste of you nothing like he had ever dreamed, and oh, had he dreamed. When you push up onto your toes to deepen the pressure, sigh into his mouth, his black bitter heart nearly bursts through his chest.

Until that day…

And when he takes you shortly after, coffee long forgotten, limbs so tangled it’s near impossible to discern where you end and Levi begins, lips parted and dewy with sweat and each other; he can only think of the sweetness this life has afforded him in you, how the bitterness of his past has made way for this belonging.. well. There’s truly no such thing as too sweet, is there?

[darkniters]

jschlatt who gets you to appear briefly in a video

in the video, things are about to change, schlatt talks about how the content on his channel is going to not constantly be tiktok reaction videos.

however, he really needed someone to hone the point home for the audience that he doesnt want to keep up this content anymore (like he needed it, i doubt we wanted it too)

one evening, after editing the video, he walks out to the main living area of the apartment, where he sees you lounging about on your phone, cats laying on either side of you.

he smiles, he then circles around and comes in front of you, sitting in the small space left on the couch. as you lower your phone, you offer him a small smile.

he begins his proposition: “how’d you like to appear in a jschlatt video, sweetheart?” he offers quietly, his voice gentle as if he went any louder it’ll falter your decision.

you look at him confused, you didnt NOT want to appear, but this came out of nowhere. you never discussed anything about you appearing on camera or making you guys public, so the proposal took you by surprise.

“whats it for?” you quiz, not entirely sure where this is leading. he smiles in return.

“i need you to pretend to tell me off, in a sense. you know like, ‘schlatt we’re going broke you gotta stop tiktok reacting’ or something. nothing serious, and if you dont want to its okay.” he explains. you nod your head, imagining how it would go down.

“yeah i can do that, do you wanna do it now?” you ask. you lift yourself up from the couch, the two cats meowing in discontent due to the shifts in weight.

“yeah if you dont mind, i’ll just pretend you come into the room and do it.” he stands up and reaches out his hand for you to grab, and you both make your way into his recording room.

he sits himself down in the chair, and then gets his recording software up and running. once everything is tested and ready, like his mic and such, he turns his body to you.

“alright so yeah, just come in and say like ‘you gotta stop tiktok reactions its ruining this family’ or something really over dramatic. just a quick bit, nothing more.” he explains.

“right, got it.” you nod. you leave the room and close the door behind you. schlatt starts blabbering on about something, and then yoy open up the door.

“schlatt you gotta stop making tiktok reaction videos, we can’t afford to live here anymore.” you say sadly. he looks at you with a distraught look in his eyes.

“oh god.” he lets out breathily. “oh fuck.” he stares into the camera.

“somethings gotta change around here.”

he then suddenly breaks character and bursts out laughing. “that was perfect thank you so much.”

he stops the recording and bounds over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pecks your forehead, then your lips. “you’re so good.” he whispers.

“thank you,” you breathe back, pecking him again on the lips. “can’t wait to watch it back when it’s uploaded.”

-

a few months later, the videos live, and you’ve forgotten about the bit you both did.

“even my girlfriend has had enough of my bullshit!” he exclaims through the screen. when suddenly a familiar scene plays on your screen.

you smile, and you see yourself doing some horrible acting, not looking good but looking decent, hair flat and wearing loose clothes.

schlatt leaves the office, and offers you a grin.

“videos live, i hear youre already watching it?” he asks, hearing the video play through your phone. you nod, looking at both of you stare eachother out on your screen. then. you notice something.

schlatts eyes can be seen from the side of his face, and his eyes are bright and glistening as they stare at you, before they lose some color when he looks to the screen.

his eyes are filled with so much love for you, and his audience, hopefully, will see that too.

[starlightdreaming]

Lucifer x Fem!Reader!

Content warning: ANGST TO FLUFF! :3 REALISTIC themes of REALITY (FROM MY PERSPECTIVE) this is a vent fic but I added my delusions of fluff for comfort, theres slight starvation of oneself (eating disorders right?) (this fic been in the back of my head all week)

(this MADE ME CRY WHILE WRITING I KID YOU NOT)

Synopsis: dealing with reality isn’t easy for anyone, upon walking home one day, you found a mirror, hoping you could sell the mirror for some cash, you discovered something money can’t buy… happiness.

(im craving for fluff)

making a one shot for my delusions

(the song that supported my delusions)

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭*Dancing within the mirror* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Your life wasn’t very pleasing to live, hell, life wasn’t pleasing to live at all, all the stress and endurance was so tiring, going to school, day in, day out was the least of your worries after you graduated.

Every kid has always said, “I can’t wait to grow up and do my own things!” at least once. once.

Now that you are an adult, nothing was as it seemed when you were younger. Yeah, you can do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it but it came with a price.. and that price was money.

Without money, you couldn’t do anything you dreamed of doing, without money, you couldn’t afford the things you even wanted- and to get anything you wanted, you had to get a ‘job.’ it’s the balance of life some say, but to you? it was control, it wasn’t about what you want or what you get, it’s all about having you work for the… them.

those people. the 1% some would call them.

Your mind deteriorated more and more from just not living anymore, just surviving.. you work, get the money, pay your taxes, pay your bills: your car, your electricity, your water, food, housing, insurance- everything.

You sat on the edge of your bed in your cold dark room, the moonlight twinkling in, it’s luminous rays escaping through the curtains at the window, you laid your head down crying and stressed, you can’t continue to survive like this, you just wanted to live.

You watch old shows and movies for comfort, wishing life would never change and forever stay the same, you wanted the world to stop revolving so you can just breathe. You watch cartoons and such, cause it seems they are living much happier than you ever will. Your mind always drifted off to just one day, you can lay in the grass and listen to the soft winds, the trees and grass rustling, dancing together as one with the wind.

You drew characters of your own, characters from your favorite shows and wrote everything your mind would drift off to, to cope with the bleak life that you had.

Sometimes, you wish reality could just.. shift, like if you wanted to live in your comfort characters universe? you could just poof! and then be there, talking for however long you wanted.

You sighed as you turned off your device, going to bed, too tired to do anything due to fatigue from nine hours of labor, you tucked yourself in, playing soft music to help you sleep with some sort of comfort, you closed your eyes to await another lifeless day of nothingness.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

Another exhausting day at work, you walk home, your car broke down for the nth time, knowing how corrupt reality is, it was intentional by the people who you got it from. Another bill to be paid, just to get your car fixed, just to work more, pay more, just to feed them.

You barely made it through the monthly payments, saving enough to pay them all off but not enough to feed you. You silently walked in the grass, no sidewalks to be seen cause everyone used cars nowadays, never their feet and it made the people who are supposed to run the country (or states), neglect their ideals that they offered the people.

You sighed, exhausted, walking for a whole hour, you decided to rest. You worked nine hours that day, walking endlessly and now you’re here, walking home. You pulled a bottle of water you had with you from your pocket, taking a sip to refreshen yourself, it was less half than empty but it was enough for you to be hydrated for your next other hour you had to walk home. When you drive to work, it’s only eight minutes but walking? it was fifteen times longer.

You got up to your feet to walk again, stuffing the empty plastic bottle into your pocket to find a place to dispose it, not wanting to litter the earth than it already has been from neglectful people who could care less where their trash goes.

Walking past a dumpster, you neared your destination to home, you tried to put in the bottle but as you did, you saw something glimmering in your eyes, you took a second glance at what was shining in the dumpster, there, you see the sun reflecting off a mirror- but not just any mirror, a beautiful one. It looked old and antique but it was so mesmerizing to look at, it had unique designs, embedded with gold, at the top of the mirror, sat an apple, a white snake wrapped around it, it was in quite good condition, not even the glass was cracked, ‘who would throw such beauty away?’ you thought, you wanted to take it home but you hesitated, wouldn’t you look like a hobo if you were to jump in to get it?

You looked in all directions, seeing if anyone was watching, when the coast was clear, you jumped in to get it, trying your best to reach it, without falling in. After a few seconds to a minute or so, you managed to get out scot-free, holding the mirror with both hands, you looked at the distinctive details more closely, it really looked at shiny as gold, you couldn’t tell if it was, you were no genius to know, nor did you have the knowledge to know, all you knew it was dirty from the grime in the dump, it definitely needed a cleaning.

You held the heavy glass carefully, walking down your neighborhood to your home, you put it down gently next to your front door, trying to get your keys to unlock it, when you did, you happily tuck your keys into you pocket, picking up the mirror and walking inside.

The moment you got this mirror, you thought about how it could benefit you, ‘could maybe clean it and then put it on sale at an antique shop or mall?’ you thought, hoping to grab a bit of money to help you probably get something eat for once other than toast and cereal.

You put the mirror in your bathroom tub, getting towels and wipes to carefully remove the dirt from the lined details, sticking your nail covered by the wipe, to chalk the dirt out from deep corners, after a bit, you washed it off carefully with water, holding it gently as to not let it fall and shatter, you turned off the water, grabbing a towel to carefully dry it, not wanting to accidentally scratch the glass somehow.

You took the mirror to your room, holding it with both hands, you sat it down to the ground, making it lean against the wall, you stretched before you took off your work clothes, deciding you wanted to shower after today, I mean, after walking endlessly for two hours at work (not to mention the additional two hours, walking home), and dumpster diving? You definitely could use one. You began collecting comfy clothes to relax in, digging through your drawers, you got just a tee and some shorts and an extra pair of undergarments, you took your clothes, grabbed a towel and left to the bathroom, leaving the mirror alone in the dimly sunlit room.

While you cleaned yourself, unbeknownst to you, the mirror flickered in and out bright yellow auras, the little dust and dusk of yellow floated around the mirror like fireflies, it was glowing at that point, bright yellow, the gold designs that traced around the mirror began to glow as well, and it immediately went out as you entered your room, a towel on your head, you sighed as you jumped into bed, digging out your work clothes that you left on your bed to grab your phone, you tossed your clothes to the side as you laid back down, scrolling through what-not to distract yourself from the loathing pain of loneliness in your life.

From evening to dusk, you blinked lazily, tired of scrolling on social media for hours, you continued to do so until you stopped at a video, a video that was quite a little too relatable. You thought that - that’s when you know it’s time to put the phone down, it’s enough internet for the day, You plugged in your phone, placing it on the night stand.

You shifted under the covers, bringing your pillow to your chest to hold it, hugging it tightly as if it were to ever be your significant other, knowing full well that - that one day, will never come… but it doesn’t hurt to imagine it right?

You hugged the pillow tightly, nuzzling your face in it, looking at the mirror that faced your bed, you laid there silently, feeling the loneliness get to you again, the clock ticking in your room as you waited for sleep to consume you, you closed your eyes, resting your head in the pillow you held, before falling asleep. As you slept, the mirror began to glow again, the same golden aura surrounded it, little small dots of light floating around it again, the light began to glow more, the longer you slept, the small dots of light danced in the air, eventually making it to your bed, the small dots of light gently touched your skin, one even kissed your nose, it made your face scrunch as you scratched it, removing the tickling feeling in your sleep, you then turn the other direction of your bed, faced away from the mirror, the lights backed away from you, like curious little fireflies, they floated around you once again, raining golden dust onto your head as if it were sandman, raining sand onto your head, gifting you the night of pure lofty dreams.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

You groaned as the morning light from the sun entered the room, waking you up from your dreams, it wasn’t often when you dreamed, usually they’d be nightmares or just plain weird.

You sat up on your bed, rubbing your eyes to wipe the sleep off them, you yawn as you shifted to slide off your bed, walking past the mirror to leave your room, with a quick glance while walking past it, it showed a different person in your reflection, you paused, you stepped back to look again, now puzzled, did you see that right? You look back at the mirror, seeing your reflection perfectly fine, you shook the thought off, thinking it was just you not being fully awake and your eyes were just messing with you, you left your room after that, not thinking anything further about it.

You brushed your teeth, brushed your hair, anything and everything needed to start the day, you grabbed your work clothes and your phone, glancing at the mirror again before taking a photo of it, later deciding to post it on the internet to see if anyone was willing to buy it. You left your house, locking the door, awaiting another repetitive day of your life… wasting away.

You had woke early for a reason, without your car (and the inability to afford an uber, nor risk spending any money), you had to walk to work, it was going to be a long exhausting day but that’s just life, the imbalance of it from what you could see at least.

After a long day of work, the painful exhaustion of walking home, you opened your door, dreadfully, today was worst than the last, you sighed as you went straight to your room, taking your work clothes off and jumping straight to bed, crying.

You curled up in your bed, grabbing your pillow to hold as comfort as you silently sobbed, the sun, slowly fading away from the room, dusking out that the day was nearly gone. You didn’t bother how hungry you felt, you just wanted to cry yourself to sleep, your co-workers were more aggressive today towards you, tripping you and telling you how you don’t seem to put more effort into you job as they do, it even got to the point where they’d report you to the manager, it was only worse when the manager actually believed them! You’d end up being scolded by your boss, not even he tried to listen to your side of the story, making this all the much worse to endure. You wanted to cry at work, you did during all of your lunch break, you spent the whole time crying silently in the restroom, forgetting to get at least something to eat during your time.

You just wished this whole nightmare could be over, you barely had time for your mental health, not to mention the time to do anything else to cope with the repetitiveness of reality either. You cried yourself to sleep that night, not the first of your many rests. It was however, noticed by the mirror you seemed to have forgotten about.

The mirror shimmered softly with light, the same as it did last night, unaware of it’s presence of magic, the light reached your bed, alluring you with comfort as you rested, dots of light danced around your exhausted body, giving you sweet dreams as it did last time, you smiled in your sleep, dreams overflowing in your subconscious as you slept, your body seemed more relaxed when the light tended and touched you, draining the soreness out your body, hoping you’d wake up feeling much better.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

More often than not, you’d wake up exhilarated and refreshed from the nights before, it bothered you at first but you adjusted to it rather quickly, seeing as you always felt bursted with energy, you could take on the day and go home like you just went through hell to just sleep and wake up feeling alright again. You still haven’t had gotten any responses on anything about the mirror in your room, no one willing to offer for it, it just sat in your room collecting dust, it had been like about a month or so by now, your depressed mind never really bothered with time anymore, seeing as it was pointless, nothing really changes in your life, you don’t even bother with holidays, seeing as there was no one to celebrate with.

After many times and days going through the same thing, you crashed onto the floor in your room, laying next to the mirror. You couldn’t bother getting up into bed this time, everything just felt so tolling, your co-workers were at it again, excusing themselves with how they had families to take care of and you didn’t, they hated how you got paid the same as they did, expecting you to be rich or something by now. You hugged yourself on the floor that night, crying once again, you were facing the direction of the mirror, ignoring it in your vast of self loathing.

You just wished and craved for affection from someone, anyone, just something, anything to stop the pain you felt inside your heart but that would never come, no one cared for you as you hoped that one day they would, you fell asleep on the floor that night, crying yourself to sleep once again, no different than all the other nights that shared the same.

An emitting aura glowed softly again from the mirror, amongst your sleep, brighter than all the times than the last, this time, it didn’t try to comfort you in your sleep, no, this time, it was trying to wake you, wanting you see what it held within itself, the dots of light kissed your face, their bright auras bringing you to wake, you opened your eyes, curious from what the light source was, you sat up from the floor rubbing your eye, “what the..” you say as you blink awake now, you see the mirror glowing with a golden aura, you were bewildered from such a thing being able to happen.

You looked into the mirror before backing away, your reflection making you gasp in shock, you slowly leaned into the mirrors view, looking at your reflection again, it was so different than what you actually looked like, you looked more… demonic? it was creepy, it made your skin crawl, the light that was doting on you, floated around you, catching your attention. You raised your hand out, the little light landing in your hand, you looked and admired its radiance before it flew up and towards the mirror, going straight into it, “wha…” you said rather quietly im confusion and curiosity, the mirror glass sending waves against itself like a water drop landing into water.

You hesitated, you weren’t sure what to do in this situation, when you first got this mirror- you didn’t expect it to be fucking magical!

The mirror calmly whispered a tune, alluring you, you looked at your reflection again, it going from your human self to something else.. You reached your hand out to the mirror, touching the glass but when you did, your hand phased through it, you pulled your hand back in surprise as you watched the mirror glass ripple from movement, you shifted closer to the mirror, the golden light being the only thing that lit up your room in the dead of night.

You put your hand through the glass again, feeling more calm about it, seeing as it was safe, you smiled in fascination, it wasn’t long before someone or something grabbed your hand on the other end, you tried to pull away but it held your writ tightly, you saw a hand hold onto you, covered in black and claws that looked sharp as knives, it pulled you through as your yelp in shock and fear, closing you eyes as you expected to endure some sort of pain coming your way but you didn’t feel any, you felt the warmth of someone’s chest, your hand in theirs, his other on your back, ensuring your safety through the glass.

“Greetings, little duckling.” The man coo’d, you look up to the stranger who caught your fall in confusion, your eyes widened when you realized it was your major comfort character currently, the devil himself: Lucifer. You pushed yourself away from embarrassment, trying to look at your surroundings, seeing as you were in a massive ball room, the tiles on the floor were shining gold as the stairs were cloaked with red, “where am I?” you panic, looking at your body, seeing as your color was different and your body was less humane, “what is happening?” you ask, startled, looking at Lucifer.

He walked closer to you, “hey, it’s okay, you’re safe here, I won’t hurt you,” he reassured as he reached his hand out, patiently waiting for you to take it, you gave yourself a moment to breathe, trying to process everything, you looked at him as he smiled comfortingly at you, waiting patiently for you to take his hand, before long, you took his hand, he leaned toward your hand kissing it gently, a surge of golden light looming from the kiss to around your body. You blinked in surprise and look at your body, clothes had been changed from your work attire to something more extravagant and elegant, you were suddenly wearing a ball gown, you picked up a piece of the fabric of the dress, looking closely at the details it withheld.

“Through that mirror of yours, i’ve been watching you,” he says as he stands up straight again, holding your hand in his, you looked at him, slightly uncomfortable from that statement, his eyes widened at realization as he turned away before scratching his neck, “I mean- I don’t mean in a weird way- like- I was- I just-“ he sighed in defeat, unable to explain his situation correctly, “It’s not what it seems,” he attempts again, looking at you with soft eyes, “it’s just- that mirror is a portal, it’s a portal that only one side could see from, I don’t even have control where it goes but-“ He trails off, “look,” he says, taking both your hands now as you stare at him, patiently waiting for him to fully give you his explanation, “It was something I made long ago,” he attempts again, “I left it on earth for centuries but I still had access to it, from one end I mean.” he pauses as he turns both of you toward the portal, his hand trailing across the glass, changing the location on the other end, you watched with your mouth a-gap, in awe from how surreal this all was.

“I watched many humans through this mirror, good and bad,” he says as he shows many past memories the mirror seemed to hold, “It’s the only thing I have that shows the good in humanity… sometimes.” he says as he cracks a side smile, hoping you aren’t weirded out too much by the whole ordeal.

Letting go of Lucifer’s hand, you lifted both hands to your chest, intertwining your hands together as you walked toward the portal mirror, “so you’re saying..” you spoke as you stared at the glass, “I have a magical mirror in my room?” You ask, turning to him, your dress swaying as you turned, “yeah,” he smiles in relief that you aren’t panicking as he was, “we could go with that.” he says as he walked to you again, “I watched all the nights you cried..” he began as he looked away from your gaze, “I saw how much pain you endured everyday, it was obvious in your eyes and…” he explains to you, his demeanor changing to nervousness as he avoided your gaze, “I tried to make your nights better as you slept, hoping you’d wake up, feeling like your days would be better.” he confesses with a awkward smile on his face as he showed you the golden light in his hands, resembling the same as the light you saw glowing around the mirror in your room.

“So you’re the reason behind why I always felt better in the morning?” You ask, expecting he would confirm your answer, “Yeah.” he admits, rubbing his neck again, you walk up to him, taking his hands in yours as you raised both your hands up together with a smile and a, “thank you.” Lucifer eyes sparkled as he felt a flutter in his stomach, he sort of expected you to panic or something but this was way better, he smiled at you softly, “I saw you crying earlier, worse than ever before,” he says emphatically, he placed of your gloved hands on his shoulder, the other one held with his, his hand was placed gently on your waist as he leaned towards you, “so I thought maybe this time,” he pauses, turning you to a different direction and dipping you gracefully, “I could make your dreams a reality.” he spoke with an ever graceful smile, doting on your beauty.

Your eyes widened in wonderment as he began to move on his own, “wait- I can’t dance-“ you try to exclaim but your feet moved on your own as well, “don’t worry my dove,” he says as he looks at you with that sparkle in his eyes again, “I got you covered on that, just enjoy it, like a dream.” he comforts you, his voice soft and alluring.

He snapped his fingers and you saw a set of ducks with bow ties and orchestrated instruments appearing with them, they sat between the open space of the stairs, “fond of ducks, i see?” you ask, giving him a sided glance with a smile, he rolls his eyes playfully before taking your hands into his again, “not as fond as I am with you tonight,” he says back, smirking playfully as he guides you towards the center of the ballroom, “you’re absolutely stunning tonight.”

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

(prolly too dramatic but it was making me go insane while writing this (fluff is my kryptonite))

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

A melody began to play in the background as you let Lucifer take the lead, looking at him in awe, entranced by his charms and his smile.

He spun with you around the ball room, your dress flowing behind every move you done, you looked at your dress in wonderment, you then looked back at Lucifer who was still giving you doe eyes. You had your mouth opened slightly, still processing that this was actually happening… and with Lucifer of all people.

Watching and feeling every shift both your bodies had made, you both move left and right in circles, you yelped softly in surprise when you began to spin, one of his hands still in yours, bringing you back to him to waltz across the massive golden ballroom, you looked at him again as he gave you a toothy grin, making you smile in pure delight from this dream.

It wasn’t long until golden light began to ignite under his feet, each step he took left a trail of golden luminescence, ducks soon flipped up from under ground as if they went under water to collect food to eat, they swam across the ballroom floor as you both stared into each others eyes, lost within the melody.

You looked down at your own feet in amazement, your own steps were leaving a trail of golden light, those golden trails soon grew into buds that blossomed into lotus flowers, the flowers slowly drifted across the floor, gracefully, like they floated above water. You were mesmerized in such beauty of magic, it wasn’t long until you felt a hand trace under your chin, bringing your gaze back to Lucifer, “eyes on me, my darling.” he says with a soft smile, bringing his hand back into yours.

You felt flustered from his gesture as he sprouted out his wings, all in their grace and beauty, you looked away again as you heard him chuckle a light laugh at your reaction, he closed his eyes as he soaked in the moment, spinning you around again before bringing you in, your attention came back to him as he opened his eyes to look at you, you began to feel light, you looked away for the third time, you saw yourself floating in the air with Lucifer, you looked back at him in a little worry but it quickly vanished away as his gaze comforted you, “I got you.” he says, knowing what was running through your mind.

The golden light still trailed after you both, the ducks and lotus flowers floating up with you both in unison, you were so dazed by how pleasant you felt, your eyes locking with Lucifers, you both leaned into each other, your heads touching, closing your eyes as you began to relax and enjoy the moment, everything feeling so perfect.

You both danced in the air in sync, your steps finally moving as your own, adjusted to the dance, he reeled you out, you spinning out before spinning back in, back into his arms, his wings feathers fluttered gently as you danced in circles, in and out, left and right.

You both leaned out, hands locked as you laughed lightly, making him smile even more that you are enjoying your time with him, he brought you in before spinning you once again, back to him again before dipping you gently, ensuring you won’t fall from his grasp, his eyes were in awe as you smiled, your smile is all he wanted to see after seeing you cry so many endless nights.

He drifted you both back down, the golden lit ducks and flowers following you both as you both twirled around, heading towards the mirror, a trail of ducks and flowers blooming from you both, when you reached the mirror, he dipped you again with one hand this time, his other hand caressing your hair, a soft golden glow luminously flowed in your hair before he gently cupped your face, “until next time, mon chérie.” Lucifer says with a smile and loving eyes, kissing your head lovingly before pushing you carefully into the mirror.

You sit up quickly waking up, the sun shining through your curtains into the bedroom, you looked at your hands, your skin color back to normal, your ball gown gone, ‘it was all a dream.’ you thought, only to frown, believing it was too good to be true, you looked at the mirror on the floor, leaning on the wall as it had always been, you looked at it curiously, you threw the covers to the side, shifting out of bed to walk to it, you picked it up, seeing that your reflection was completely normal, however, a golden lotus laid in your hair, confirming that maybe, it wasn’t a dream after all…

You heard a ‘ding’ on your phone, catching your attention, you put the mirror on your bed carefully, grabbing your phone to look at the notification.

- Hey, that’s a beautiful mirror! It looks super old! antique even! How about $1,500 for it?

You smiled at the notification, that was enough for you to pay most of your bills for this month, you left a response before putting your phone back on your nightstand, picking up the mirror and leaving the room.

- Sorry but I decided not to sell it, thank you for your time though. :]

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[castieltrash1]

I'm desperate for any content with Driver or K, maybe just how'd they treat you as their partner? Love your work!!

driver is a bit of a chameleon boyfriend. he’s used to blending in and attracting as little attention as possible, which extends to his personal life. whatever you’re interested in, so is he. if you like to eat somewhere, he’ll suggest that place every time you mention being hungry. as long as you are happy, that’s all that really matters to him. if you want to plan dates, he’ll follow your schedule down to the second. and if you’re more spontaneous, he’ll have his jacket and car keys nearby to take you wherever you want. 

he’s protective, of course, but he also loves seeing you be successful in whatever endeavors you pursue in life. whether that’s a mundane 9-5 or a niche passion that doesn’t pay the bills, he will cheer you on for every milestone you cross. ideally, he’d take care of you in every way that matters (financially, emotionally, mentally, physically, etc.) but he doesn’t want to stifle you, either. that doesn’t mean he won’t silently fix any of your problems behind your back, though! bitchy manager bothering you? you’ll never believe it, but she switched locations! low on rent? you must’ve forgotten those couple hundred dollar bills you left haphazardly tucked between your mattress! too tired to cook dinner? well, your boyfriend just texted saying he’s off work and would love to grab something and swing by your place to eat!

safe to say, one of his love languages is acts of service. including the ones you don’t know about, he takes care of every problem in your life. he’ll catch every bug, fix every leaky sink, install your new curtains, reconnect your router, change your oil, etc. speaking of cars, if you’re insistent on driving yourself everywhere, driver will check your car every five seconds to make sure it’s safe.

+ driver isn’t big on pda, but if you’ve just arrived or are leaving, he will pout without a kiss hello or goodbye. if you forget (or purposely avoid for the sake of teasing) either, he’ll follow you, grab your wrist, and use his other hand to hold your jaw steady while he kisses you. only then will he smile, let go, and pretend nothing happened.

-

OFFICER K UNDER THE CUT!

k can be insecure, sometimes. he knows it’s already hard enough dating a replicant, but his dangerous job doesn’t make it any easier. all he has to offer you is his plain apartment and the nights he’s not working, neither of which he finds particularly appealing. he’s not really sure why you like him, but he’ll be damned if he gives you any reason to break it off. every second that he can devote to you, he does. 

since he’s out in the city most of the time, k enjoys spending time indoors. of course, if you want to go anywhere while he’s home, he’ll be stuck to your side like glue, glaring at anyone who even gives you a second glance. but, what he loves most of all is curling up beside you and listening to the rainfall. nothing makes him feel more human than doing nothing for the sole purpose of it. he’s made to perform tasks, so there’s something rebellious about enjoying the silence of your apartment, counting each beat of your heart, and feeling the warmth of your skin against the synthetic of his. knowing that he doesn’t have to service you or offer anything for you to want to spend time with him makes him ecstatic.

while k can’t afford lavish gifts or, really, much at all, he does come into contact with a large collection of rare items at work. he’s always excited to bring evidence home since he knows you’ll get a kick out of seeing and touching a real flower or piece of wood. while the scarcity of the item intrigues him, he doesn’t have the same desire to connect to humanity’s past the way you, understandably, do. where he sees just another part of an ongoing case, you see years of ancestry and a forgotten world. secretly, the excited glint in your eyes has started to make him feel something similar.

+ k loves pet names. the first time you called him babe/baby, he stilled and stared at you in shock. he’d heard humans referring to other humans that way, but the names people usually called him were very different. whenever you call him a pet name, he smiles, almost unconsciously. he’s tried every combination of affection terms with you, but his favorites are the personalized ones that he knows no one else ever has or ever will call you. they remind him that, for now, at least, you’re entirely his. when you use them in return, he feels unique, like a human. he feels like he finally has a real name. out of the well-known ones, however, k’s favorites are sweetheart, dear, flower, and pretty. flower and other pet names based on things that are now rare feel especially fitting to him, since someone “as perfect as you is hard to find.”

gosling sleepover sunday

[nattikay]

Jake is a Good Dad and I will Die On That Hill

Howdy Avatar fandom. Over the past six months or so I’ve seen a lot of criticism directed toward Jake Sully as a father, ranging from him simply being a little too strict at best, to outright neglectful and even abusive at worst. This, my friends, is some grade-A nonsense, and today we’re gonna talk about why. Strap in, lads, this is gonna be a long one. Let’s roll.

So before we get into breaking down the events of the main storyline, let’s address the idea that Jake was always the super-strict “military dad” throughout the kids’ lives: put simply, bullcrap.

Out of the film’s over-three-hour runtime, we get to see very little of the Sullies’ lives before the RDA’s return—only about six minutes’ worth. If Jake was meant to be this strict militaristic dictator during this time period, especially in a way that would significantly impact the kids’ character development and their relationships with him, this would be the time to show it, or at least hint at it. But instead of any of that, we really get quite the opposite. Jake laughs and plays with the kids:

Jokes around and cuddles:

Teaches Neteyam to fish:

He even says in his narration:

“Happiness is simple…whoever thought that a jarhead like me could’ve cracked the code?”

Guys, this is quite literally the best time of his life. This man absolutely adores his family with every fiber of his being, they are his whole world. Like, look at him! He has stars in his eyes!!

We have zero reason to suspect that Jake was overly harsh or strict in a way that would impede his relationship with his kids during this time. The Sullies appear to be a normal, healthy, close-knit family. 

It’s only when the RDA returns and reignites war that things change. 

I’ve seen some people claim that Jake’s personality changed it the second movie. I disagree—it was not his personality that changed, but rather his priorities. 

A1 Jake was a disabled marine vet who was offered his brother’s contract after said brother was unexpectedly murdered by some thug on the street…and part of the reason he agreed to take that contract was that there really wasn’t much else left for him back on Earth, so why not go? A1 Jake had just about nothing left to lose, and therefore could afford to be more reckless.

A2 Jake, however, is another story altogether. A2 Jake can’t just run around poking and prodding and taking risks like A1 Jake did because now he has a wife and four children who rely on him and who he loves more than anything else in the world. It’s not just himself he has to look out for anymore, it’s them. He now has everything to lose. He says as much himself:

Not to mention that he’s older now. Did you really expect the 37-year-old father of four who’s been leading the clan for 15 years and is suddenly thrust back into a brutal war to behave exactly the same as the 22-year-old fish-out-of-water ex-marine sent to fill in for his scientist brother out of the sheer convenience of sharing a genome? A2 Jake’s behavior is not a sudden 180 from his personality in A1, it’s a natural progression and reaction for his character given the changed circumstances. 

“A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.”

This is essentially Jake’s thesis for the movie. This is his #1 priority, his purpose, the lens through which all his actions must be viewed in order to understand them, and it’s important to establish it upfront because it sets up everything else.

With that in mind, let’s take a look at the train raid sequence as its aftermath. Jake begrudgingly allows his now-teenage sons to participate in the war party—from a distance, as spotters. Neteyam seems content to fill this role, but Lo’ak, against orders, eagerly insists that they “have to get in there”, even goading his brother: 

Tailed by an exasperated Neteyam, Lo’ak grabs a weapon from Tarsem and lets out a half-hearted warcry:

...let’s be honest here, Lo’ak doesn’t really seem to be taking this raid anywhere near as seriously as he should be; he’s treating it more like a game—on which point, y’know what, let’s pause to talk about Lo’ak for a moment.

Because the primary purpose of this post is defending Jake, it may at times appear that I am being overly critical towards Lo’ak. This is not my intention—I love Lo’ak as much as I love the rest of the Sully family (which is a lot lol). I think the things he struggles with are reasonable and valid struggles to have considering his circumstances. However, that does not always mean that he is in the “right”. Jake and Lo’ak’s conflict through the movie is not as simple as “son right dad wrong” or vice-versa; rather, it stems from a generational/age gap in experience and priorities. 

In this case, for example, Lo’ak is treating the raid more like a cool action game than a real battle with real stakes. Which may not be much of a surprise—he’s 14! He’s young, he’s naive, he’s never experienced anything close to real war until the past year or so—he probably genuinely does not fully grasp the stakes of this situation just yet. And why should we expect him to, really? He’s never had to before.

Jake, on the other hand, knows the stakes all too well. This ain’t his first rodeo. He was a solider both on Earth (where he was injured severely enough to become paralyzed from the waist down) and then again on Pandora driving out the RDA in a battle that killed several of his friends and allies, including almost completely wiping out the entire Olangi clan. 

Jake understands the risks of war and doesn’t want his kids anywhere near it. We see this not only in the film where he only allows Neteyam and Lo’ak to participate in the raid “from a distance” and ultimately fleeing his own clan altogether once his kids are directly threatened, but also in the comics in which he consistently turns down Neteyam’s pleadings to participate in the war efforts. Unfortunately for him, his sons do happen to be coming of age at around this time and there’s only so much he can do to keep them out of it, so he tries to let them participate in relatively safe ways, like as spotters.

Lo’ak…doesn’t understand this. Not really. And that leads to him recklessly taking unnecessary risks—be it out of curiosity, to get in on the action, or even simply to prove himself. Which understandably scares the crap out of Jake.

When the raid is over, Jake desperately searches the rubble for his sons. He finds Lo’ak quickly and makes sure he’s alright:

…before taking off to search for Neteyam, who he also promptly checks over for injuries. 

which is something I’d like to point out here: although Jake sometimes gets gruff with his sons, he never leads with that. He always always always makes sure they’re ok first. That’s important. We’ll come back to it throughout the post.

Anyways, it’s only after making sure that Neteyam is ok that Jake’s initial bout of fear subsides and morphs into frustration and anger: what were you thinking?! And it’s a fair question. If the boys had followed orders, they wouldn’t have been at such risk in the first place. Once the party returns to High Camp, Jake addresses this point with them, reminding them that by disobeying direct orders they put themselves in very serious danger, and reiterating to Lo’ak in particular that his recklessness nearly got his brother killed and grounding him.

In other words, Jake’s response to his sons going against his orders was…a lecture and a grounding. That’s…a pretty reasonable parental reaction, actually. Sure, you could nitpick and say his tone was too harsh, but given the situation, I struggle to blame him…

…which leads into the next relevant scene: while Mo’at and Kiri tend to Neteyam’s scratches, Neytiri gently chides Jake for being too hard on the boys, concluding with the infamous line: “This is not a squad. It is a family.”

Now, what I find interesting about this scene is that neither party is really in the wrong here. Jake is doing his best to fill his role as a father by watching out for his kids’ physical safety—even if it means being a little strict. Likewise, Neytiri is filling her role as a mother by looking out for her kids’ emotional well-being. As she should!

That said, I think people who use this line as proof of Jake’s supposed parental failure are forgetting the context. While Neytiri’s line is true in general, when the boys sign up to participate in a war party, they kinda do become a “squad”. In that moment, in that context, they are a squad, they have to behave like one lest someone gets hurt if not killed. 

I also think they forget Jake’s reaction to Neytiri’s line:

Look closely. There are tears in his eyes. This dude was terrified of the possibility that he may have just lost one of his sons in the raid, and all his strictness stems from that. And Neytiri seems to recognize this as well, as she can’t seem to decide how to respond. She probably worries about the same thing, after all, even if she handles it differently. 

On that note, let’s look at the next time Lo’ak disobeys instructions: going to the old shack with Spider, Kiri, and Tuk, where they first encounter the recom unit. 

Something interesting about the aftermath of the recom rescue is that no one gets lectured this time actually. Remember what I said about how, no matter how upset he is, Jake always checks to make sure the kids are ok first and foremost? Sure enough, that’s what he does here:

Not only for his daughters, mind you, but also both his sons (we’ll address the daughter-favoritism claims later):

With the recoms now targeting the Sully family specifically, Jake, feeling out of other options, makes the difficult decision to flee and find refuge among the Metkayina clan. 

whoops, there’s that “protection” theme again

When their request for sanctuary is somewhat reluctantly accepted, Jake calls a family meeting and tells the kids this:

Remember how earlier we established how “a father protects” is essentially Jake’s thesis for this movie? Well, this is an offshoot of that: Jake believes that hiding amongst the Metkayina is currently the best was to keep his family safe; therefore, throughout the Sullies’ time with the clan, Jake’s primary goal is to lay low and get along with the clan so as not to tread on their hospitality and get kicked out (even if and when that means setting aside one’s own pride). This, then, is the lens through which Jake’s actions must be analyzed while his family is staying with the Metkayina.

The first time this becomes relevant is after Neteyam and Lo’ak’s little scrap defending Kiri from Aonung and his posse. Jake is clearly not thrilled about Kiri being bullied, but again, his top priority is keeping his family safe and right now this entails maintaining a good standing with the chief, which in turns means that his sons getting into brawls with Tonowari’s son is a very bad look. Which is why, after a moment of internal conflict, he asks Lo’ak to apologize to Aonung (he even tries to explain when Lo’ak protests:)

On that note, while remaining on good terms with the clan has to take precedence at this moment, Jake is clearly quietly proud of his boys for kicking butt, as we see from his exchange with Neteyam (though yes, it is unfortunate that Lo’ak didn’t get to see this bit).

…which brings us to one of the bigger moments that people point to when accusing Jake of being a bad father: the “you bring shame to this family” line. Now, I can understand why this line doesn’t sit right with viewers initially, especially since we have just seen firsthand the truth about what Lo’ak experienced over the past few hours. However, when you consider what’s going on from Jake’s perspective, the line is not quite as unreasonable as it first seems.

Let’s back up a bit to when Lo’ak first returns to the village after meeting Payakan. At first Jake is just relieved that his son is ok (remember: he always checks first)

In fact, once it’s clear that Lo’ak is ok, it seems Jake just wanted to let it go and head home…the real conflict didn’t begin until after Lo’ak lied to take the blame for Aonung.

Up until this moment, Jake only knew Aonung’s side of the story, that he’d taken Lo’ak outside the reef and he got stranded there (it’s unclear whether Aonung specifies that he abandoned him out there on purpose, the little punk, but I digress). But when Tonowari (rightfully) declares Aonung’s responsibility for the incident, Lo’ak speaks up to take the fall, claiming that the whole ordeal was all his idea, which Aonung had tried to talk him out of.

Lo’ak does not have a reputation for lying…but he does have a reputation for pulling reckless stunts that put himself and others in danger, so for better or for worse, Jake has literally zero reason not to believe this claim. 

In other words, for Jake, the situation has just gone from “my son got taken advantage of by the local bullies and put into a precarious situation but he’s home safe now” to “my son dragged a bunch of other kids to a dangerous location where he knows he’s not supposed to go despite the chef’s son trying to talk him out of it, endangering both his life and theirs, getting lost in the process, and thereby worrying and inconveniencing the entire clan on whose hospitality we rely by making them go out of their way to arrange a whole search party in the dead of night just to find him.”

…yeah, no wonder he was flippin’ ticked. No wonder he “didn’t want to hear it” when Lo’ak tries to explain that he was “only trying to make friends”. We as the audience know that’s true, of course, but as far as Jake knows in that moment, based on what Lo’ak himself claimed just moments ago, he was trying to “make friends” by…dragging them out to a dangerous location despite their protests thus jeopardizing both his and their lives as well as his family’s standing in the clan who can kick them out at any time. Yeah, I wouldn’t want to “hear it” either.

When you look at it from that perspective, “you brought shame to this family” doesn’t really seem quite as extreme, does it?

And yes, I feel for Lo’ak here, really, I do; he’s just been through a lot and yes based on the actual events that just occurred his father’s anger is the last thing the poor kid needs and I totally get why it would upset him…but at the same time, I can’t help feeling that he kinda brought this particular lecture on himself by voluntarily taking the blame for Aonung. Not really sure what he was expecting: that Jake would somehow read his mind and understand the way things actually went? That he would see through his lie and praise him for being so amiable towards Aonung by taking the fall perhaps similar to how Neteyam so often claims the blame for Lo’ak’s own reckless shenanigans despite how rude Aonung had been to him thus far? Or perhaps he just blurted out the blame claim as an olive branch of sorts to Aonung (genuinely trying to “make friends” in a way) without really thinking about the consequences of doing so. Who knows. But regardless of how Lo’ak did or didn’t think things would go, I think it’s a little unfair to blame Jake for his reaction. Based on his knowledge of the circumstances, which in turn were based on Lo’ak’s own account given only moments before (remember, Jake had zero reason to suspect he was lying), his reaction is actually pretty understandable.

Speaking of Lo’ak’s adventures with Payakan, the next time we see him clash with his father is when Tonowari lectures him for bonding with the outcast, and Lo’ak defends his new friend. Remember: Jake’s top priority is keeping his family safe which currently means not getting kicked out of the Metkayina. Lo’ak, regardless of whether or not he was in the right, was clearly upsetting Ronal and Tonowari in this exchange—Neytiri is actually the first to step in and warn her son:

…and when Lo’ak persists anyways, Jake has to step in in hopes of smoothing things over with the chief. 

It sucks that this upset Lo’ak, especially because we the audience know that Lo’ak is right about Payakan, but again, Jake is currently more concerned with not getting kicked out of the clan than with his son winning an argument about the validity of a tulkun’s outcast status.

.

...aaaand here comes the hardest part of this essay to write. Admittedly I wasn’t aware of this argument until recently, but now that I know it’s out there I feel obligated to address it here. Apparently some folks are out there claim that Jake did not display a sufficient amount of emotion at Neteyam’s death, and this somehow proves that he wasn’t as attached to his sons as he should have been. And all I have to say to that is: did we watch the same movie?? 

That man broke upon his son’s death. Did he wail and cry like Neytiri, no, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t heartbroken—wailing and crying simply aren’t how his character responds to trauma. He’s a solider, he’s probably trained to delay any external breakdown at least until a given battle is over.

But you can still see it in his face. You can hear it in his voice which breaks and shudders when he realizes that Neteyam is dying and tries to give him a few last words of comfort, wanting so desperately to ease his pain to the best of his abilities. 

...yeah. This man is broken in this moment.

…but his job isn’t over yet. The battle is still raging. He still has three more kids who still need him. As much as he may want to, he cannot take the time to fully grieve in this moment.

…which brings us to the big one, the main line people point to when arguing that Jake is a bad father:

Now, let’s be honest: was this an awful thing to say? Yes, absolutely. Should Jake apologize to Lo’ak for it after the fact, if he hasn’t already? Definitely, one-hundred-percent. I’m not disputing that in the least.

however…

In this moment, Jake has just spent the past however-long locked in a vicious battle, and hardly minutes before watched his firstborn son bleed out in his arms. And now he learns that his daughters—one of whom is a pre-pubescent child with no chance of defending herself—are still caught on the “demon ship” with the recoms, who have just very clearly proven that they have absolutely no qualms with killing these kids. Quaritch taunting in his ear certainly is not helping. 

The only thing Jake could properly focus on in that moment was getting Kiri and Tuk off that boat. Repeat: he wants to get his kids OFF the demon ship, not risk bringing any of them back ON. On top of that, Lo’ak, as established very early on in the film (see: train raid), has a reputation for struggling to follow orders…even when not emotionally devastated by the death of his brother. 

All these things considered, is it really any wonder that Jake did not want Lo’ak coming along on this mission? He’s already lost one son, why in the ever-loving flip flap would he want to risk losing the other by intentionally bringing him back to the danger zone with no guarantee he’ll come out again, especially given his apparent propensity to ignore orders and throw himself into danger? 

Heck, the only reason he lets Spider come is that Spider knows where the girls are and, unlike Lo’ak, Spider doesn’t have that same reckless reputation. Spider, in that moment, appears to be able to compartmentalize the fresh trauma well enough to focus on the task at hand, and can be trusted to do as Jake asks. Lo’ak…can’t. So, Jake wants him to stay behind.

Did he express it horribly? Absolutely. But saying one stupid insensitive thing in a moment of numbness underlaid by grief, pain, and fear does not make him a horrible dad overall, and I think it’s a little unfair to say that it does.

On that note, I do not believe for one moment that Jake genuinely blames Lo’ak for Neteyam’s death. Now, Lo’ak may well view it that way and I’m sure it’ll come into play for his character arc in future movies, which can be a topic for another day, but as for Jake’s perspective, no. I don’t think he truly blames Lo’ak. Even if he couldn’t necessarily process it all right away, I think he knows that Lo’ak is going through as much heartbreak as the rest of the family…especially given that Jake himself has firsthand experience losing a brother. He just said something dumb in a moment of pain.

(On the topic of Lo’ak being unable to follow orders, less than five minutes after Jake, Neytiri, and Spider leave for the ship, Lo’ak…immediately disobeys the order to stay safe on the island and heads back out to the ship anyways. Obviously in the grand scheme of things it’s good that he was there to save Jake from drowning after the scuffle with Quaritch, but still, good gracious son. Way to spectacularly prove your dad’s point.) 

So now we come to the point where Lo’ak saves Jake’s life. After a mutual choke-out with Quaritch, Jake is left to drown until Lo’ak finds him and pulls him to the surface, at which point he gasps for air and chokes out Neteyam’s name. 

This can be interpreted in a few ways. It could be that Jake is so accustomed to Neteyam being the “responsible” one that he irrationally thought it was him coming to the rescue, momentarily forgetting he had died or somehow thinking maybe by some stroke of fate he pulled through after all—this seems to be Lo’ak’s assumption, given that he promptly corrects him.

Now, some may take Jake’s “oh, Lo’ak…” as a show of favoritism, or proof that Jake values his first son above his second. I don’t think this is the case though—I don’t think Jake’s apparent disappointment is about Lo’ak being there so much it’s about Neteyam not being there. In other words, it’s not a personal slight against or disappointment in Lo’ak, but rather a form of still-very-raw grief for Neteyam who, remember, only just died, like, an hour ago.

It could also be that Jake is still so distraught following Neteyam’s death that it’s consuming his thoughts…he was able to shove it down and compartmentalize long enough to fight the recoms and get Tuk and Kiri off the boat, but that compartmentalization broke down while he was literally drowning and it took him a minute to focus and put things back together (which he manages to do a moment later when Lo’ak tries to apologize for his brother’s death):

The most excruciating interpretation I’ve seen is Jake thinking he had drowned and is rejoining Neteyam in the afterlife. ouch. Though that is, of course, just speculation.

Regardless, at this point Jake has just about given up. He’s exhausted, he’s in agony, both physically and emotionally. He’s completely drained. He wants Lo’ak to live but is ready to give up on himself (“I can’t make it. You can.”). It’s only when Lo’ak insists: 

 ...that Jake realizes he still needs to press forward. Because his other kids still need him. His other son still needs him and he’s not willing to give up on him. So he takes a deep breath (literally), puts his trust in Lo’ak, and lets his son lead him through the flooded passageways out of the wreck. When they finally break the surface, we have this lovely moment:

This moment is a resolution to one of Lo’ak’s primary emotional conflicts throughout the movie: living in the shadow of his legendary war hero father and prodigious older brother, finally getting the recognition and affirmation he so craved from that father. Some might argue that in terms of “ideal” parenting that this kind of moment should have come sooner, or that Jake’s recognition of his son should never have been in doubt in the first place, and while there may be some truth to that, I struggle to really blame Jake for it for reasons I just spent the past 4000 words discussing. I think the fact that this moment happened at all shows that despite their clashes and struggles and miscommunications, Jake does and always has cared very deeply about Lo’ak; his lectures and frustrations come not out of malice or some personal distaste, but out of fear for his well-being.

We see Jake comforting Lo’ak again after the family returns to Neteyam’s body on the rocks.

 As I said before, I don’t think for even the briefest moment Jake genuinely blames Lo’ak for Neteyam’s death. I don’t think he would be comforting him like this if he did.

…which, I suppose, brings us to Neteyam’s funeral, and Jake and Neytiri visiting his spirit within Eywa. No parent should ever have to bury their child and good golly gracious this scene ripped my heart out but I digress. I don’t even really have a lot of commentary to add to these scenes…just…just this. It speaks for itself.

look me in the eye and tell me this man “doesn’t care about his sons”. I flipping DARE you.

.

Well, that concludes the debunking of scenes that supposedly make Jake a bad father. But before we go, let’s look just briefly at this scene of him being a good dad with Kiri. I didn’t mention this earlier because while I’ve seen a lot of complaints about Jake’s interactions with Neteyam and especially Lo’ak, few people have qualms with the way Jake treats Kiri and Tuk—in fact, many people claim that he shows favoritism to his daughters, going out of his way “baby” them and treat them more gently and lovingly than his sons. I disagree and hope the above has done a thorough job dispelling that notion: Kiri and Tuk don’t go around throwing themselves headlong into the same kind of danger that Neteyam and Lo’ak do. They aren’t begging to participate in battle, they aren’t disobeying orders that land them in mortal peril. 

In other words: Jake lectures his sons more than his daughters out of necessity, not nepotism. Remember: Jake’s #1 priority is protecting his family, keeping them all safe and alive. That means that when one of his kids pulls a stupid stunt that puts them in danger he feels the need to crack down on that in hopes of preventing it from happening again. Lo’ak is, quite frankly, prone to pulling those kind of stunts, so he gets lectured a lot. Kiri and Tuk do not typically pull such stunts, so they don’t get lectured. It’s as simple as that, really.

Buuuuuut now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s talk just briefly about Jake comforting Kiri.

Like with the scene of visiting Neteyam’s spirit, I don’t have much commentary to add to this scene—it’s a very sweet scene and it speaks for itself really. Jake is very gentle and doing his best to listen to Kiri, even if he is a little unsure about her claims. He doesn’t criticize or invalidate, he just tries to be there for her. What can I say, that’s a good dad right there ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

One last little point before we wrap up for real: the fact that Lo’ak and Neteyam occasionally refer to Jake as “sir”. I was originally planning to address this earlier but it didn’t quite fit in with the flow of the discussion and I consider it such a minor point anyways, I figured I could save it for a side note—but seriously, it baffles me what a big deal people make of this. 

It would be one thing if “sir” was something that Jake strictly enforced, if it was the only thing he allowed the kids to address him as, if one of them called him “Dad” and he barked back, “no! it is sir!” But…literally none of that is the case. He never explicitly asks them to call him “sir”, and they call him “Dad” just as often if not more.

The kids referring to Jake as “sir” in tense moments is a simple show of respect, nothing more. I recall my own dad also wanting to be called “sir” when we were in trouble and it was never really an issue. And I suppose your milage may vary depending on where you live, but growing up in the southern US, “sir” and “ma’am” are just very common basic courtesy in many situations (not just familial). 

Sooooo….yeah, the idea that Neteyam and Lo’ak occasionally calling Jake sir is somehow proof of Jake being too strict or cold or whatever else is really making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s not that deep y’all.

…aaaand I suppose that’s it for this post. 

In conclusion: 

Look guys, Jake does not have to be your favorite character. You don’t even have to like him, or agree with everything that he says or does. He isn’t perfect (which, by the way, literally no one is). But if nothing else, I hope this behemoth of a post has at least helped you understand his character and why he acts and reacts the way that he does.

Jake Sully may not be a shining beacon of parental perfection from a psychological development perspective (and all things considered, expecting him to be such is, quite frankly, a little silly), but good golly gracious he is trying his absolute darnedest in incredibly difficult and precarious circumstances beyond his control i.e. the RDA coming back to quite literally take over. This man’s family means absolutely everything to him and I’m done sitting back and watching y’all slander him just because he didn’t react to x situation the way you think he should have.

thank you and good night

[spookyquill]

The Thorns In My Throat Are For You

Description: a Hanahaki Disease AU, Reader is in love with Dazai and has been for a long while. They were in the port mafia but they left with Dazai

Word Count: 2263

Part 1

Next Part

TW: Character Death, blood, mentions of sickness, coughing up stomach contents, head over the toilet

~~~

“Odasaku!”

Everything was at a standstill. Oda’s body fell to the floor just as Dazai reached him. It took another minute for your body to react, sprinting to Oda and occupying his other side. 

Dazai gasps at the blood on his hands. “I can’t believe you. You’re such an idiot.” He says, tears welling up as he speaks, but they remain brimming along his eyelids.

You’re quick to apply pressure to the wound on Oda. A gasp threatens to escape your mouth as you feel the deep wound and the blow flowing effortlessly past your efforts. Regardless, you keep your hand planted there. “Why would you go off on your own like this? Why didn’t you wait for backup?”

Oda grunts, raising one hand to rest atop yours, and another hand to Dazai’s, who rests his hand on Oda’s cheeks. “There’s something I need to tell you both.”

“Not like this!” Dazai yells out.

“Wait to tell us after we get you a medic.” You say with a softer tone, not having the heart to yell. You also know that what you said was a lie. Oda was slipping away, and there was nothing that anyone could do for him.

“Quit it both of you!” Oda looks at Dazai. “Remember how you told me that you committed yourself to violence and bloodshed in hopes of finding a reason to exist?” He then turns to you, not giving Dazai a chance to reply. You see the pain in his eyes. “And how about when you told me that you thought you found your purpose in life by serving the mafia, even though you hate their tactics?!”

“Who cares about that now?” Your lips wobble.

“Neither of you will find what you’re looking for.” You and Dazai let out soft gasps in shock. “You’re both smart enough to know that. It doesn’t matter what side you’re on. Nothing in this world will be able to fill the nothingness inside you. Try as you might, but that darkness will always be there.”

A few breaths is all that passes your lips for a moment.

“Odasaku.”

“Tell us what we should do.” Dazai’s voice gives away his grief.

Oda grabs a hold of both yours and Dazai’s in one grip. “Protect people. If both sides are the same, then become good people. Protect the vulnerable. Help some orphans along the way. I know that the concept of good and evil doesn't mean much to you, but at least it’ll make your worlds a little more beautiful.”

A sob breaks from your mouth, tears cascading down your face. You can't control them, and by the looks of it, Dazai’s about to break his composure too.

“You can’t know that.” He says, voice deep as he tries in vain to hold back his tears. 

Oda scoffs. “Of course I can. Because I know my friends better than they do.” He looks at you. “I know what they hide from each other.” 

You stare, wide eyed. He’s known. You don’t know how long but he knows your crush on Dazai, there’s no other explanation for that expression of his. You turn your gaze to Dazai, who continues to stare at Oda as he begins to take his final breath.

That night, when you left the mansion, you both agreed to follow Oda’s advice. You left with the memory of Oda, and his last words carving their way into your heads as a promise. You didn’t return to mafia headquarters. Avoided all territory that the mafia had laid claim to. Coats and accessories were left with Oda as a final goodbye to Mori.

Weeks went pass in a blur. The two of you stayed in an underground facility, designed to house though without a home. Truthfully you could afford a house, but you didn't want to leave any paper trail behind for Mori to pick up and hunt you down from. You picked up community chores for some change every now and then, to blend in with the community and to pave your way to fulfilling Oda’s wish.

One day, as you were coming back from completing a task, you began to cough. It was normal for people to cough, especially considering the air underground wasn’t the best, but what came out of the cough is what surprised you. 

“What?” You stare at the petal in your hand. It’s small, a baby petal that didn't get to continue its growth. It came out of your mouth.

Questions flood your brain but you push them back, pocketing the petal out of sight.

When you enter your home, you see Dazai adorning a soft smile. 

“Hey. You seem happy. What’s the reason?”

Dazai hums. “Oh, I had a chat with someone today. I asked him if there are any job offers out there that can have us help people. He suggested a detective agency in Yokohama. It sounds like a nice place. And to top it off, they have a skilled business permit, which means free use of our abilities!”

You let out a breath of relief. “That’s great!”

“Though there is a slight problem with that.”

You tense up again.

“We have to remain undercover for another 2 years in order to clear our records. But he said he’d put a good word in for us.”

“Oh. I mean, at least it's something to look forward to!” You try to lighten up the mood. Walking up to the kitchen table, you take out the money you earned for the day. “We can do it, it’s not like we’ve been doing it for a few months anyway. What's another couple years for a clean slate?”

Dazai smiles. Your heart flutters at the sight. 

“That’s the spirit!” He walks to the door. “I’m going to take a stroll. Don’t stay up for me.” And with that, he's gone.

You take out the petal from your pocket, examining it further. 

“Why now?”

~~~TimeSkip~~~

You’re sitting at your desk, typing when Dazai approaches you. “What do you say we have a celebratory dinner for our acceptance into the agency? Just you and me.”

Your heart stammers, but you mask it with a playful smirk. “Dazai, are you asking me out on a date?”

Dazai chuckles. “Of course not!” Ouch. “I just want to celebrate the start of a new chapter in our lives!”

With a nod, you stand and follow him out the door. He ends up taking you to a small restaurant. Nothing too fancy.

As you gaze at the menu, wondering what to eat, you can't help but to flick your eyes up at Dazai, taking in his mesmerising features being lit up perfectly by the dim lighting of the restaurant. Unsurprisingly, he notices.

“Is there something on my face?” He questions.

You look up at him properly, a confused expression plastered on your face for a brief moment before it's replaced by a smile. “No. I’m just taking in how much you’ve changed in the years. You look more happy, natural, like you belong here.” You put down the menu. “I don’t know how to explain it. You’re… shining.”

Dazai stares blankly in silence, processing your words. He then barks out a laugh. “What flirtatious words!”

You didn't even intend them to come out that way, now you’re fighting a blush from forming on your cheeks. 

“I didn’t think I had changed that much.” He leans forward, elbows resting on the table and his face propped up by his hands. “Well I think you’ve changed as well. You’re not following any orders now, you aren’t a duckling who willingly follows its mother. You are paving your own path now, making your own choices.” His voice dips a bit lower. “You are becoming your own person, not the one people want you to be.”

Out of everything he could’ve possibly said, you weren’t expecting that. 

“You really think I changed that drastically?” You ask.

Dazai nods. “Back then, you followed me like a lost puppy. If Chuuya hadn’t taken up the mantle, I would’ve started calling you my dog.” You scoff at that. “You obeyed without question, a simple pawn in everyone else's game. Honestly, I didn’t think you would survive long on your own with me. I thought you would’ve continued listening to me without question. But you didn’t. You took initiative. You picked up a sword and started fighting your own battles. You became independent in such a short amount of time I was beginning to think you had been kidnapped and replaced by a doppelganger. But being in the agency, I’ve come to realise that you’ve grown up. You stepped up to the role you needed to take without any guidance. And for that, I’m proud of you.”

Tears shined against your eyes, and you were certain that Dazai could see them, but you fought them from sliding down your cheeks. You were speechless, trying to form any word of a sentence in your mind, but nothing came to. Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish.

Thankfully you weren’t left in embarrassing silence for long as the waiter came by to take your order. The two of you ordered your food and drinks before going back to silence. Although it still felt a bit tense for you, it was comfortable.

Dazai soon struck up conversation, discussing the details of his exam and his opinions of the agency’s members, going on an annoying tangent on Kunikida. 

When the food and drinks arrived, you dug in, enjoying the freshly prepared meal that wasn’t cheap nor was it expensive. It was a nice change from the food you endured the past couple of years. It was refreshing.

You were nearing the end of your meal before you started choking. You cough violently, covering your mouth quickly so as to not spit everywhere on the table. Dazai looked at you with concern. You wanted to assure him you were fine, but your stomach came to interrupt. 

Abruptly, you stood up and bolted for the bathroom, hand firmly clasped over your mouth. 

You slammed open the door, dashing into the nearest stall, barely being able to lock it before turning around and spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You hover your head over the toilet for a few agonising minutes, gagging over the toilet with the occasional violent cough. Finally, you feel something in your throat give away and splutter into the bowl.

Having the time to breathe, you open your eyes, catching sight of the contents in the bowl. You’re accustomed to gross sights and things that make you question your sanity, but you weren't accustomed to the sight of the pristine petal laying gently on top of it all. 

It looked to be a bloomed petal, snowy white scattered with droplets of blood. It was beautiful yet dangerous. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

A frantic knock at the door sounds from the bathroom door before you hear it open. 

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” A female server asks. 

Without thinking twice, you flush the toilet. “I’m okay!” You stand up on shaky legs, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe your mouth. You notice a swipe of blood appearing on the fabric and you quickly scrub at it, trying desperately to make it disappear.

“Are you sure? Your friend said you rushed off without warning. Are you feeling sick? I can call an ambulance-”

You open the door. “No need to be that dramatic. I’m fine, just a wave of nausea.”

The server looks at you with worry. “Has our food been cooked incorrectly? I am terribly sorry, I’ll inform the manager and give your meal for free-”

You rest your hand on the stressed servers’ shoulder, calming her. “No need to stress. I was feeling a bit nauseous before arriving, so I don’t believe it to be your food, I think I may have tried to force myself to eat too much.” It’s so natural to lie, yet it feels wrong to do so. But you don’t want anyone to worry about you.

The server nods timidly. “Well your friend is waiting outside the bathroom for you. He seems quite concerned for your health.”

“Thank you.” You bow slightly to her before taking your exit.

“(Y/n)! Are you okay?!” Dazai bombards you almost immediately, getting close to you yet also giving you some space. 

You sigh, a hand on your stomach as you fight the feeling of post-nausea. “I’m fine. I think I just tried eating too much.”

“You sure it wasn’t the restaurant's food?”

You shake your head. “I’m sure it wasn’t their fault. I’m not blaming them, their food was delicious, I think it’s just been simmering up all day. I might head off for the night, try to sleep it off.”

A few moments of silence pass. You can practically hear the gears in Dazai’s head turning, trying to decipher whether you're telling the truth. After what felt like ages, he relinquishes. 

“Okay then. Let’s get you home. I’ll tell Fukuzawa tomorrow morning that you aren’t feeling well. I’ll have him give you a couple sick days to recover.” He moves to your side, offering support and guiding you out of the restaurant where he calls a cab. 

You can’t focus for the rest of the night, you don't even notice when Dazai tucks you into bed and leaves you alone in your dorm. All you can think about is the white petal decorated with twinkles of fresh blood.

“What’s happening to me?”

~~~

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated <3

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝙸. 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, toxic family dynamics, allusions to and depictions of mental/emotional/financial abuse, high functioning alcoholism | WORD COUNT: 3.3k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: When your friend shares some exciting news, you fear this is yet again someone in your life who will move on and leave you behind. Joel reflects on how far he's come in life after running into an old family friend.

“Here’s a nice tip for you, sweetie,” Mrs. Baker chirped with a bright smile. You watched her wrinkly, dry finger scoot a shiny half dollar across the counter towards you. You fixed your expression into a million kilowatt smile of gratitude. “Oh, that’s so kind of you, Mrs. Baker, but we can’t accept tips.” You’d told her this every week for the past several months – every time she came into the grocery store where you worked.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” she giggled with a conspiratorial wink. You felt rather certain of that, if your growing suspicions about the state of her memory and mental clarity was anything to go off of. The fact that she was still making these weekly trips by herself was enough to make you uneasy, and the fact that she was the one driving herself here presented an entirely new level of concern.

It was one of the few reasons you’d managed to compile when you were looking for ways to cheer yourself up over having nothing but your old cruiser bike for transportation. You were nowhere near what you needed in savings to even begin thinking about affording a car and all the expenses that came with it. All the progress you’d made previously had been wrenched from you when your dad had found the jar hidden in your closet. It had made him feel vindicated in his “random searches” he liked to conduct on everyone’s rooms. It gave him some sense of justification whenever something cropped up, no matter how rare it was.

But, hey, at least your door hadn’t been beat off its hinges like Calum’s had. And, hey, maybe by the time you can finally afford a car, insurance, gas money, license and registration fees ….. well, maybe you won’t have to worry about encountering Mrs. Baker on the road. You feel a little guilty the moment you think it and feel even more guilty as you shrug and take the half dollar from her. “Thanks, Mrs. Baker,” you say quietly.

You tuck the coin into your jean pocket that doesn’t have the hole at the bottom and finish loading her groceries into her cart. You laugh to yourself when she just starts walking off - you assume the direction of her car. You hope she can remember where she parked it. Your coworkers and boss Jeremy were never as patient with old, confused ladies offering you insulting bits of change in exchange for bagging up all their groceries just the way they like, loading them up into the cart, following them to their car, and offloading everything into their trunk. You always pointed out that it didn’t really take that much time away from your duties and probably made a big difference for someone like Mrs. Baker to have that sort of help. Jeremy would always roll his eyes and mutter something about “not my circus, not my monkeys.” You were just glad Mrs. Baker always came when it wasn’t very busy. 

The 17 minute bike ride to and from work was shaved down to a clean 14 with a bit of encouragement from the gloomy clouds rolling in behind you. It’d been a wetter than usual summer according to the weatherman, and it was expected to continue into the fall and maybe even winter. Combined with the fast approaching daylight savings, you’d be in for a wetter, darker commute. Bad news for someone who relied on a bike for transport, but you tried not to dwell on it. You’d just have to divert some of your secret savings and buy a heavier coat, one close to the color of the lightweight one you already had so hopefully your dad wouldn’t notice a new purchase and demand an explanation.

“Dad, I’m home!” you call out. No answer, but that was typical. After all, it wasn’t him who was required to announce every movement in the house. You walked into the kitchen to find him hunched over the table with the paper. You carefully place the six pack on the middle of the counter, casual and unassuming as though it hadn’t become a learned habit after too many times of you having to deal with him running out. His eyes drift up from his work and land on the offering.

“What’s that?” he asks as if he doesn’t already know. You aren’t sure what the trap is or what you’ve done wrong, but you also know there’s no other option than to find out what grievance you’ve committed.

“Just saw it on my way after clocking out,” you lie. You had to double back across the store to pick it out. “Couldn’t remember if there was still some in the garage or not,” you lie again. There was plenty in the garage, but “plenty” in your terms and “plenty” in your father’s terms didn’t always align. Better to play it safe than have to bike in the rain to replenish his stock.

He leans back in his chair now, having decided what exactly he’s going to take issue with. Because it’s always something. “You got a real talent for just throwin’ money away,” he sneers.

You steady yourself as you wash your hands at the sink. Slow movements. Nothing challenging in your response. He loved to lob these decentering comments at you, a sort of puzzle you weren’t really intended to be able to solve. The takeaway was always meant to be that “the obvious” was right there and shouldn’t have to be spelled out for you, but you were just too dense to figure it out. His statement was vague enough that it could be taken multiple ways, all of which inevitably pointed to some failure on your part. At least you always knew that was going to be factored into the answer somewhere.

Was he saying you weren’t good with money because you’d bought more beer when there was already some in the garage? Was he saying that spending money on full priced beer was like throwing your money away? Was he saying that spending money on something frivolous like alcohol was a waste in and of itself in the grand scheme of things? You decide to go with your first interpretation. It felt safest.

“I guess there’s some out there then? I couldn’t remember, sorry.” Accepting some of the imminent blame was sometimes enough to soften the edges of whatever was going to be launched at you. Sometimes it backfired and just added to the fire: you can already see how you deserve this censure, so at least you understand your shortcomings are why this conversation is having to happen in the first place.

“Ever heard of buying in bulk?” he huffs. As if he didn’t stock up every other week at the wholesale store regardless of if it was on sale or not. “Price per unit?”

“Oh, yeah,” you respond in feigned recognition of your so-called error. “Sorry, dad. I guess the 24 pack is just sort of hard to balance on the bike. I’m always nervous it’s going to fall off the handlebars when I get the bigger sizes.”

As if your difficulties getting to and from work were of any concern to him.

“So you acknowledge that you were paying the unspoken price of convenience,” he drawls. Ah, of course. The two birds one stone approach of insulting your efforts and inflating his authority as economic manager. The idea that you would pay a few more cents per unit to make things easier on yourself, to not have to worry about dropping and busting all the cans of beer because you couldn’t balance them. “At least you can admit it.”

He drifts forward again to his work, numbers and charts and graphs that you don’t understand and wouldn’t be explained to you even if you asked. The reprimand had been the short, simple kind. You quietly walk from the kitchen, place the beers in the garage fridge, and head down the hallway to your room. You lighten the load of your backpack and work shoes. The rain pelts gently against the window and is a full on staccato against the pane by the time you get out of your uniform and into your sweats. Getting ahead of the situation – making the call to get more beer without being asked or ordered to do so – had been worth it. You sigh and stare out the window. Thank goodness it was going to be a day where you’d played your cards well enough to come out mostly unscathed. Thank goodness today had been worth it.

The only upside to sweltering August days in the middle of Texas was that contracting jobs slowed a little bit. Sure, interior renovations were still in full swing, but it gave that tiniest bit of reprieve for all the decking, roofing, and sweat-dripping-off-your-balls-it-was-so-hot sort of work that he only ever scheduled for in the “cooler months.” It was the closest thing to downtime he had all year round, even though it was mostly spent on office housekeeping. Catching up on clients and completed jobs. Fostering those relationships so they’d sign Miller Contracting on for another project. Building enough good will and enough happy clients that word of mouth could not only sustain business but had helped it grow steadily over the past decade.

Joel hadn’t ever been much into religion except for Easter Sunday growing up when his mom would give him and Tommy so much chocolate they had barfed it all over the backyard more than once. Yet, he couldn’t help but think about how blessed he felt. He and his kid brother were doing well for themselves. He just wished his parents were around to see it. It would make him happy to show them all their love and hard work had eventually paid off. All those tumultuous teenage years of Tommy getting into all sorts of trouble and Joel winding up a young father without much of a plan on how to support his sudden family. They’d only been witness to the very beginning of their comeback kid storylines, and he’d kill for 5 minutes to show them he’d managed to make something of himself and made sure Tommy was okay, too.

The icy wall of air conditioning smacked Joel right in the face the moment the grocery store doors opened. As nice as it felt to be out of the heat, the jarring change of temperature was something he’d never gotten used to in all his years in the South. He made his way to the convenience section and nabbed a lemonade. He plucked another from the spring-loaded tray just before heading towards the checkout. He wasn’t sure what Jordan liked to drink since he never seemed to have anything except water to offer anybody. At least this way it wouldn’t be so obvious if Joel showed up with a lemonade for both of them.

The wall of heat smacks him in the face this time, along with the blaring sun. He squints and holds a hand to the sky to block some of the blinding rays. He hears the rattle of a cart coming his way and glances over. There’s that cute neighborhood girl he’d see every now and again if he was lucky. He doesn’t remember much about you from when he first moved in – other than that whole strange thing with your mom. He tries to remember your dad’s face in his mind’s eye. Something sort of stony and serious conjures into view. He wonders if he’s just imagining it wrong because your face is never like that. He must be thinking of someone else.

Regardless, he couldn’t remember any of your names. He used to be better at stuff like that. When you smiled at him, he returned it with one of his own and headed towards his car. Yeah, definitely couldn’t have been imagining your dad’s face correctly. No way the snobby frown of a man that came into his head was possibly related to you with your shy but deliberate smile. How on earth someone so insanely gorgeous could only find work at a grocery store was beyond Joel. He wonders if you were even aware of how much money you could probably rake in as a bartender around these parts.

“Is that Joel Miller?” a frail voice calls out.

Joel looks over to see none other than Mrs. Baker. “Well howdy there, Mrs. Baker,” he calls back. He walks over to her four door and wonders how on earth she’s still a licensed driver. She’d been friendly in the church with his mom especially, and even as a kid he was never too impressed with her driving skills. He dreads to think what they are now, multiple decades later.

“How are you, sweet boy?” she asks, all warm and bubbly. He grins back and shrugs.

“Just keepin’ busy. You know how it goes, Mrs. Baker.”

“Well that’s better than the alternative, I guess. Gotta pay the bills somehow.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Joel chuckles. He glances over to your retreating back as you push the noisy cart back into the store. “You got these folks so wrapped around your finger they deliver your groceries straight to your car, huh? You always were a charmer.”

Mrs. Baker joins him in a light giggle and taps his forearm. “Now now, Joel, I think we both know who the real charmer is between the two of us.”

“Hey, gotta pay the bills somehow,” he laughs in an echo of her words. Her smile widens at his teasing banter. “And, uh, your kitchen still workin’ good for ya?”

She nods and squeezes his hand. “Oh yes, it’s just as lovely as the day you finished it. You boys always do such good work.”

“Thank you, ma’am. M’glad to hear it.”

He edges around to open the door for her, partly to play his role as Southern Gentleman but mostly to get out of this conversation quicker so he wouldn’t be late for his next appointment with Jordan. She thanks him for his gesture and gives a little wave and brief goodbye as he heads to his work truck. If he made all the lights, he wouldn’t be late. 

“But there’s something else, and, I’ll be honest, it’s sort of a big deal.” Kenzie was practically vibrating in place. Her high energy was the fun, infectious kind more often than the grating, off-putting kind. You weren’t sure how she maintained such enthusiasm when all she ever seemed to have was good things to share. Wouldn’t you get tired being so happy and excited constantly? It sounded exhausting in a different sort of way, but maybe it was a good thing.

She had a perpetually sunny outlook thanks to her perpetually privileged life, but you didn’t want to rain on her parade by saying things like that. After all, who were you to take away from someone else’s joy? Not to mention she was probably the only actual friend you had these days after all your high school friends had gone off to college or took up actual jobs and move out and got roommates or got married.

Kenzie was just busy and self-centered enough to not really pry too much into your life. It was a dynamic that worked for both of you: her with a constant audience for all her triumphs and growing life experiences, and you with the comfort of never having to say much about yourself or your home life.

“Well are you gonna tell me or are you gonna make me guess?” you tease.

“Uh, definitely not gonna make you guess because you seriously aren’t even gonna believe this,” she whisper squeals.

You have no doubt whatever wonderful thing she’s about to share is very much believable. Good things happened to people like Kenzie. It was never much of a shock when another ray of sunshine came bursting through the clouds of her life. You only wish that some of that “luck” could rub off on our own life. You raise an expectant eyebrow when she doesn’t say anything.

“Okay, so–” she peeks over her shoulders from where you’re both knelt on the ground stocking canned goods “–I’m applying for this paid internship thing my professor recommended me for.”

Your brow scrunches. You thought paid internships were something that existed in the old days when you could still smoke on airplanes and down a vodka martini 5 months pregnant without anyone batting an eye.

“I know, I know, internships are sometimes blegh, but it’s like a legit office and nice company and everything” she explains, wholly misunderstanding your expression. “It’s not like those old offices off the Milton exit.”

You don’t even know what she’s talking about, but you take her word for it. “Oh okay, cool.”

“Yeah, so I’m basically, like, a shoe in for the job since my professor wrote my recommendation. It’s not a full-time thing yet since I still have another two semesters, but over winter break I should have some opportunities to have something more like a real job.” She cringes at her choice of wording. “Sorry, not that the grocery store isn’t a real–”

“–I know what you meant,” you interrupt. “Keep going.”

She shoots you a grateful smile and launches back into her tittering announcement. “So anyway, yeah, if this all goes alright then I basically already have a full-time job set up once I graduate. Can you believe that?”

Yes, you can believe that. “That’s so crazy!” You shake your head and give her a big grin. “I’m sure that has to feel amazing, Kenzie. That’s so awesome, seriously.”

She was a few months out from graduating with her degree in marketing. Or was it communications? You can never seem to remember, and you’re too far into the friendship to keep asking clarifying questions like that. Anyway, it didn’t matter much which one it was since she had pretty much already landed herself a “big girl job” with matching “big girl pay.” The ever present and nagging voice in your head reminds you that she is younger than you and already so much more successful than you’ll probably ever be.

“Hey, y’all both don’t need to be in canned goods. One of you go see what Erin needs help with, huh?” Jeremy scolds from the end of the aisle.

Kenzie rolls her eyes at you with her back to Jeremy. “Alright. You got it, Jeremy,” she replies in a chipper voice. He stomps off as she promises to text you later with the rest of the details. You give her a quick side hug from the ground and tell her again how great the news is.

You stew in it for the rest of your shift. It turns and spoils in your mind no matter how much you tell yourself you should be happy for her and not so focused on yourself all the time. By the time you make it home, it was impossible to ignore the reminders that this was yet another person in your life that you were bound to grieve once they moved on from their station in life and did better for themselves than what they had here. First your mom. Then your brother. Now one of the few people who you’d managed to befriend since graduating high school.

You were left behind. Again.

You were never going to make anything of yourself like everyone else seemed to do.

You were going to be stuck in this place for the rest of your life.

You do your best to control the hectic breaths that start squeezing your chest, but you’re well into a full blown panic attack before you can even pinpoint when it started.

This was going to be the rest of your life, and there was nothing you could do about it.

[midnightanxietytm]

Between the walls of Ba Sing Se

Contents: Role-swap AU, verbal fights (on Zuko's part at least), Katara angst, lots of introspection, tension so thick you could cut it, mentions of the Painted Lady, Pre-relationship Zutara, Katara is mid-redemption arc, She's working in a teashop with her gran-gran.

A/N: This is an extra set in the same universe of this fic, I wanted to explore the characters more before making the decision of actually writing zutara into the fic. I appreciate constructive criticism, you can send me an ask if you want to discuss anything abt this fic.

“Playing pretend, Princess?” It hurts because he's saying it, because they both know it has truth to it, because somehow, he knows her.

Word count: 881

It's a long long way

To Ba Sing Se

But the girls in the city

They look so pretty

It’s weirdly peaceful, cathartic even, or at least as peaceful as customer service can get. Still, Katara finds herself content with this existence, this life she and her grandmother had made for themselves. She likes the tea, likes their house, likes the pai-sho, and if she ever needs a little more adrenaline, she has The Painted Lady.

But then he comes along, rattles her peace, shakes her to her very core; that ruthless reminder of her every mistake.

And she’s so unlucky, because out of all the Avatar's friends, Zuko is the one who isn’t afraid to go toe to toe with her. Sure, his sister had the raw power, but he had the technique, the balance, and the knowledge of… well her. 

“Playing pretend, Princess?” It hurts because he's saying it, because they both know it has truth to it, because somehow, he knows her. And she doesn’t know how to answer, not anymore. She looks away, outside the alleyway behind the shop, upwards towards the sky, anywhere but his amber eyes.

“I'm not a princess anymore.” She says, only because she realizes he's waiting for her answer, sizing her up, determining If she’s a threat to be dealt with. She glances at the Dao on his back and wishes she had the courage to learn something like that, she wonders where he did.

“Oh? What are you, then?” There’s so much venom in his words, so much hatred, and she’s just starting to realize that she does deserve that, she has caused him nothing but suffering… And once again she can’t answer him, because of his hate, or was it her own hate? It poisons her veins, clogs her throat. And because she doesn’t know it just yet. Who is she if not Princess Katara of the Southern Tribe? Who was she then? Who is she now?

She leans further into the shadows of the alley, hoping they engulf her, wanting to run, but unable to run from his burning embers. “I don’t know…” She admits in a whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear it, hoping he leaves.

“Really? Because I could have sworn someone called you by Kya today, is that a new trick of yours?” And that she can’t stand. She steps forward, fists curling and posture changing so fast that Zuko, despite himself, is taken aback, and raises a hand to his sword hilt.

“Don’t say that name like that!” She bites. “You can spit my name with as much poison as you want, but not that one! Don’t come again. Leave me alone!” She’s back inside the teashop, fast as a tidal wave.

Zuko stands there, hand firmly gripping his dao, for a good few seconds before his body finally allows itself to relax; he exhales slowly and leaves the alleyway, and he ignores his shaky hands, ignores how the girl he’s used to focus all his hate on had looked so… fragile.

He can handle her being a threat, he can handle all the scars and scratches she’s given him, that he’s given her, but he can’t handle the hurt in her eyes, he can’t afford to let his empathy get the best of him, not during war. He can’t let his guard down.

And yet… Once he finds his way back to the upper ring he finds himself slipping into the brooding and introspective manners he often does whenever he's shaken by something. 

So he trains.

This is a newer habit, one that came after they started their journey. Now he trains every time he has a particularly harsh dilemma, and during those training sessions he makes sure that the moon is his only companion. In this particular situation though, the moonlight distracts him, because it also reminds him of her.

She’s stronger under the veil of the night, every waterbender is, but she especially is a fearsome thing to behold. He wondered how long it’s been since she could bend in the open, he wondered how it would feel to have to hide such an integral part of oneself. 

Zuko has always been a little jealous of her when it came to bending; she had training, experience, she was a fully realized master. All he had was the partial teachings of his uncle, who was often busy running their village and a week of class back when they stayed with Hama, everything else was him improvising, adapting, and pushing forward because he had to. His bending was solely for survival, hers was for fighting, that he had managed to hold his own against her so many times before was a miracle.

And to see such foe so utterly lost, it moved something deep within him, something he couldn’t quite place. He echoed her confusion with each fiery punch and kick of his own, then with each swing of his swords.

Zuko trained until his muscles were sore and his mind was somewhat clear. It was well past one in the morning when he finally sat down near a water fountain, breathing heavily. He didn’t really have a conclusion for his dilemmas.

But he thought he could really go for some tea in the morning.