#and he's still devoted in a way but just to something else. to the opposite

[apostase]

just btw

[swanlikely]

Current Brainrot: Helping Husband Nanami! Unwind

Author's Note: This scrumptious gem graced my timeline today, and I couldn't resist writing a fic about it. Do yourself a favor and follow the artist on Twitter, and while you're at it, check out her Patreon—it's totally worth it! (Artist & Her Patreon)

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and i'll fix it!)

CW: AFAB! reader, usage of she/her, handjob (m! receiving), oral (m! receiving), pet names, role-play (prostitution), public sex

word count: 2k

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Nanami was the epitome of dedication, tirelessly clocking in countless hours at the office to ensure his sweet wife lived in the lap of luxury. He was a gentleman in every sense. Yet, sometimes, this relentless work ethic could be his Achilles' heel.

Stress was making its unwelcome presence known in Nanami, with shadows deepening under his honey-gold eyes and the weight of the world pressing down on his broad shoulders. He was beat. After surviving yet another grueling twelve-hour shift, he was at his limit. All he craved was to return home to you, his loving wife.

And as his loving wife, you couldn't miss the signs. You saw how he would collapse into bed like stone after a long day, too exhausted to even finish his dinner. You heard the frustrated groans as he dragged himself out of bed each morning. But most importantly, you felt the strain in your bedroom.

Not to say Nanami wasn't satisfying you—quite the opposite, he was only satisfying you.

Despite his exhaustion, his touch was tender yet fervent, his kisses a mix of urgency and devotion. He'd make sure to lap at your cunt each night, with his talented tongue. Letting you know just how much he loved you, how he put your needs above his own. But that was exactly it—what about him? It worried you to no end; all you wanted to do was make sure your husband was happy. Seeing him give so much of himself, you felt a uncomfortable combination of gratitude and concern. You wanted to reciprocate, to show him the same level of care and passion. You longed to ease his burdens, to be his sanctuary just as he was yours. The thought of him carrying all that weight alone tugged at your heart, and you resolved to find a way to bring balance, to ensure he was taken care of as well.

Which was exactly why you weren't at home, playing the doting wife as always, but leaning up against his car hood, dressed in something completely out of character for you.

Fishnets, Daisy Duke shorts, and a tank top that hugged every curve clung to your body, making you a walking temptation. You watched your husband approach the car through glittery, half-lidded eyes. Letting out an exaggerated whistle, you purred, "Well, hello handsome," catching your husband's eyes.

He was just a few steps away, his furrowed brows and confused smile giving away his exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, and his button-up shirt was slightly wrinkled. It had clearly been another long day for him, and you were ready to melt away all that stress. But you couldn't do it as his wife; no, you needed to become someone else entirely. You had to offer him an escape from reality.

"What're you doing here, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice gruff and drawn out. His hair was still neatly groomed, and oh, you wanted to make a mess of that. Make a mess of him. "Also, I'm not one to tell you what to wear, but this is different." His eyes roamed your body, lingering over your breasts to the tips of your black heels. He was right, this was different.

"Mmhm, you like?" You bite down on your glossy, plump bottom lip. Nanami swallowed hard.

"Just a girl trying to make some money tonight," you continue, against the hood of his car. Your elbows prop you up, pushing out your breasts that were practically spilling out. "Ah, I see," he murmured. His eyes, though shadowed with exhaustion, now swam with an almost predatory hunger that swirled in the depths of his amber gaze.

You giggled at the fact that your husband was playing along with your little game, as he always did. Though tonight wasn't for you; no, it was all for him. Placing your delicate palm against Nanami's sculpted chest, he shivered for a moment. That was new.

"So, Mister, would you like to help a girl out and make use of my services?" Your voice was hot and breathy as you slowly undid the first button of his dress shirt. Nanami's eyes tracked the movement of your perfectly manicured fingers, lingering on the way they teased each button. A surprising rose-tint spread across his cheeks, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a vulnerable flush. You could get drunk off of him.

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't help a pretty girl like you out?" Nanami chuckled, a bit sheepish, as he fumbled with the car keys, finally managing to unlock the doors. Seeing such a strong, composed man acting so coy made your thighs clench. This outfit and role were really doing it for him, huh?

After hearing the car beep, you quickly pulled both yourself and your husband inside, sliding into the backseat. It was a tight fit, with Nanami's broad frame hovering over you, his arms and legs straddling your body. The closeness made you acutely aware of just how much bigger he was than you. Instinctively, his mouth found your neck, immediately shifting into husband mode. But tonight, you wouldn't let him neglect his own needs just to please you.

"Stop," you groan, fighting the urge to let Nanami do what he normally does. He immediately pulls away, his eyes filled with worry. He searches yours for answers but only finds eyes brimming with lust. "No touching, you're paying for my services, remember?" you giggle, pressing against his chest to flip him over. Now, you were on top, straddling his lap. His heavy cock pressed against you, straining against the confines of his trousers, yearning to be free. The two of you were panting, the heat between you making the car windows fog up. You were lucky the parking garage was deserted at this hour.

"I, uh, sweetheart…" he stammered, struggling to find the words as you mirrored his earlier actions. Your mouth traced a path from his neck down to the exposed part of his collarbone, licking and sucking gently. Lips parted and teeth against skin. You couldn't help but think, God, you needed to do this more often.

His hips jerked against yours, causing the both of you to throb with want. The fabric of your shorts was already damp, barely able to contain the heat building between you. Your hands roamed down his muscular frame, your fingers tease as they reached the zipper of his trousers. You fumbled with it, the anticipation making your breath hitch. His low groan in your ear sent shivers down your spine, and you pressed closer, feeling the urgency of his need matching your own.

"Please let me touch you, just a little," he pleaded, his grip tightening on the leather seat, veins on his arms standing out. The desperation in his voice sent a thrill through you. You had made Nanami Kento, usually so proper, whine like a slut. You leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his, reveling in the power you held in that moment.

"Here, you can get a kiss, but it'll cost you extra," you laugh, pressing your open mouth to his. The kiss was sloppy, tongues intertwining with a fervor that made your head spin. His mouth was hot, and he tasted delectable—an unexpected blend of mint and cinnamon. You were melting into him. "Nghhh, sweet girl, let me touch you..." Nanami's voice was trembling, his restraint barely holding on. This was absolute torture for him; he wasn't used to being the one pampered.

"No," Your fingers hooked onto the belt loops of his khaki trousers, slowly tugging them down to reveal his throbbing cock, leaking precum. A frustrated moan caught in his throat as he waited for you to do something, anything.

His cock was pretty, more so than usual tonight. It was a darker shade of pink, thick and pulsing, with veins prominently visible at the base, likely from all the accumulated stress. Nanami hadn't cum in the past two weeks, so naturally, he was this pent up. His cock was so tempting, begging for attention.

As you wrapped your glossy lips around the tip, Nanami's hips jerked involuntarily, aching for more. The desire to thrust into the back of your throat and make a mess of your slutty makeup consumed him, but Nanami, being the gentleman he was, forced himself still. After all, he wouldn't want to harm his lovely wife, right?

But that's not what you wanted. You wanted Nanami to take out all his anger, all his stress, all his bad days on you. To defile you in a way he would a slut. That's who you were tonight, right? No longer his wife, but the whore he needed.

"Don't hold back, use me," you groaned against his cock, your mouth still wrapped sweetly around it. Drool dribbled down as you pleaded for him to let go. Getting Nanami to be rough was like asking to be struck by lightning—rare, but when it happened, it was electrifyingly intense.

"Such a dirty girl," without hesitation, Nanami began to buck his hips, driving his cock deep into your throat. Your mouth watered, saliva pooling at the base of his needy cock. He was so thick, making it a struggle not to gag. "Such a good whore for me," Tears welled up in your eyes, and your cheeks hollowed as you fought to keep up with his relentless pace.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…" He kept repeating, babbling at this point as he used your mouth. He was drunk on pleasure, feeling the plush, wet insides of your mouth and the back of your throat. The sensation was overpowering for him, and you could see it in the way his body shuddered and groans flying from his mouth. It felt so good watching him writhe in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands gripped your hair tighter, guiding you as he continued to lose himself in you. The sight of him so vulnerable only fueled your urge to push him further into this blissful state.

You began to hum as he thrust into you, the vibrations around his length driving him insane. He let out the most beautiful grunt, a sound that sent jolts straight to your dripping cunt. You could tell he was close; his movements were becoming erratic and more forceful, causing you to gag and choke each time he hit the back of your throat. Perfect. He needed this release, and so did you. The anticipation had been building for weeks, and now you were desperate to taste him, to feel that connection you had been craving.

"Sweetheart, I can't," he breathed out, his legs stiffening and back arching slightly, plunging him deeper into your throat. His tip was bruising your throat by now, but you didn't care. You needed to see your husband come undone. Using a free hand to grip the base of his length, you began to pump up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. You were going to send him into a spiral, make him regret not being more selfish these last two weeks, make him wish he'd never taken that overtime at the stupid office.

"Gonna come," he winced, the words dragging out as his handsome face contorted in pleasure. Nanami's grip tightened on the back of your head, thrusting his length into your throat with desperation. You could definitely feel the bruises forming, but the feeling only heightened the moment. His hot, salty cum erupted into your throat, filling your mouth and leaving you with barely any time to savor its taste. The sheer force of his release made your eyes water and throat flex, but you reveled in the raw, filthiness. As he pulled back, you licked your lips, catching the last remnants of him, a satisfied smirk playing on your face.

His mouth agape, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely spent as he was panting to catch his breath. You completely wrecked him. "God, you're...incredible," he managed to say between shallow breaths, still reeling from his orgasm. The sight of him so messy only made you want to see him like this again and again. You could see the way his muscled chest heaved, each rise and fall a testament to the pleasure you had just given him. His hands, which had been gripping you with such fervor, now lay limp at his sides, fingers twitching slightly as if still remembering the feel of you.

As he slowly regained his composure, a lazy smile spread across his face. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with sincerity.

"Now, how much extra for another kiss?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"It's on the house,"

[cutielando]

i’m not clingy | c.l.

synopsis: in which Charles dreams of you cheating on him and is not okay with that

a/n: i accidentally deleted the request for this fic, so i’m making up for it 😭😭

my masterlist

Charles was very confident when it came down to your relationship.

He was a confident person overall, and he was very confident about the strength of your relationship. He truly believed he had found the one for him when he met you.

He knew he had nothing to worry about, that you were 100% devoted to him and your relationship.

But something at the back of his head said just the opposite.

She’s too good for you.

She’s going to leave you.

You’re way out of her league.

She deserves someone better than you.

The thoughts just wouldn’t leave his mind, especially when you would be out to a club with your friends.

Just like tonight.

You had been clubbing with some of your closest friends until the early hours of the morning, celebrating all of you finally being in Monaco at the same time.

During the night, you and Charles danced the time away, wrapped up in each other’s arms and completely blissfully ignoring anyone else who tried to talk to you guys except for your little crowd.

But when you announced that you had to go to the bathroom and had to separate from him, something in the pit of his stomach told him he shouldn’t have left you go alone.

You were very attractive, Charles was very aware, and he knew men would always do anything to get your attention.

And when he said anything, he meant anything.

And that night was no different.

After a couple of minutes had passed and you still hadn’t returned, he got worried and went looking for you, trying not to let himself show the distress he was feeling.

That’s how he found you speaking with an unknown man, your forced smile clearly an indicator for him that you really didn’t want to be stuck in the conversation.

The stranger didn’t seem to notice the uncomfortable look on your face, or simply chose to ignore it. Either way, none of it sat right with Charles, who didn’t want to let you spend a second more talking with that man.

“Are we all good here?�� Charles immediately stepped in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he felt you instantly relax at his presence and touch.

The man glared at him when he butted in, his fake smile hiding the rage bubbling under the surface.

“We were having a conversation” the man pointed out, his chin pointing towards you.

He hadn’t even noticed the hold Charles had on your waist, instead settling on glaring at him until he would back off.

Which Charles had no intention of doing.

“I don’t see what kind of conversation you would be having with my girlfriend. I suggest you leave before I have you escorted out, and don’t ever talk to my girlfriend again” Charles demanded, glaring at the man with superiority in his stance.

You were watching the exchange like a tennis ball, thankful that Charles appeared when he did and interrupted the uncomfortable conversation the man had pulled you in.

You bit your lip and expectantly waited for the stranger to finally get the courage to leave, which he eventually did after a staring contest with your boyfriend.

“Thank God, I didn’t know how to get away from him without being a total bitch” you said and pouted, making Charles internally smile.

You were too sweet for your own good sometimes, always polite to people even when they didn’t deserve it. It was one of the things he loved most about you.

“I’ll always save you from creepy men trying to talk you up” he joked, making you laugh and lean into his body.

You quickly kissed him on the lips before taking his hand and dragging him away, back to your friends and the beloved dance floor, eager to forget the situation you had just escaped from.

All while Charles’ chest was tight at the thought and sight of you with another man that was not him.

It hurt more than he cared to admit.

♡♡♡♡♡

It was very late into the night, and Charles was twisting and turning in your shared bed. You were sleeping deeply next to him, his shuffling not even remotely bothering your sleep.

Charles' face was scrunched up as if in pain, his mind plagued by the worst nightmare he could have ever imagined having.

You, his dear and most precious girlfriend, kissing and hugging the man from the bar, the both of you laughing in his face. Charles could only stand there, his body paralyzed as he watched you living in happiness with someone else, someone who wasn't him.

He thrashed and turned the entire night, up until the early hours of the morning, when you rose from your deep sleep and felt the bed and sheets under you constantly shuffling.

"Charles?" you asked confusedly, turning your head to see Charles with a scrunched up face, his forehead sweaty and creased with worry lines.

He continued to twist around, his breathing heavy. You sat up and gently shook his shoulder, trying to gently coax him out of his clearly troubled sleep.

"Charles, amour, wake up" you said as you shook his shoulder slightly harder, jumping back once Charles opened his eyes and aggressively got up, panting and frantically looking around the room for you.

The moments his gaze fell upon you, he body-slammed you into the mattress, wrapping his arms as tightly as he could around your waist.

“Oh, thank God you’re still here” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the hem of your T-shirt.

Your eyebrows furrowed, keeping a tight grip around his shoulders in comfort.

“What happened, Charles?” you silently asked, not wanting to spook him even more than he already was.

He sighed, shaking his head into your neck and burying his face even further into your skin, like he was trying to get inside of your skin and stay there forever.

Neither of you spoke for a couple of minutes, the only sound in the room was Leo's breathing next to your bed and Charles' shuddering breath against your skin. The sun was getting ready to rise, the world was ready to wake up and start the day, but you two weren't.

“I dreamed that you cheated on me” Charles mumbled, his voice muffled into your neck.

“What was that, honey?” you asked, your fingers scratching the back of his head.

He sighed, slowly pulling his face away from your neck to rest it on your chest, still not meeting your eye.

“I had a dream that you cheated on me with that guy from the club” he explained, his voice still quiet but more understandable now.

Your shoulders relaxed a little, your frown softening and being replaced with a gentle look.

You gently played with the hair at the back of his head, your lips pressing light kisses against the top of his head.

"Mon amour, you know I would never do that to you with another man, no matter who he is" you explained, which made Charles quickly nod against your chest.

He shifted and got back up, making you sit up with him as well. He leaned against the headboard, his eyes closed and his cheeks still damp from his tears.

"I know. I'm just scared that you will leave me for someone better, someone who has a normal job and isn't gone halfway around the world almost every week" he said, his voice wavering.

This had always been a topic between the two of you. Charles was always worried about the time he spent traveling and being away from you because of his job. It sparked a lot of long conversations between the two of you, which mainly consisted in you trying to reassure him that it didn't bother you and you understood it was his job and dream.

You were nothing short of supportive, attending every single race that you could, but the doubt was still there in Charles' mind.

The doubt that told him that you deserved someone who was there for you every single day, not halfway around the world risking his life every single week.

"Charles, please look at me" you said and cupped his cheek, turning his head to the side until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know you think I deserve someone else and that you feel like a failure because of your lifestyle. But baby, I love our life the way it is. You are following your dreams every single time you go away to race, you do what you love and then you come back to me in one piece. Knowing you are doing what you love makes up for the distance and the weeks spent away from you. Nobody will ever measure up to you, mon amour. You are the only one for me and that is never going to change. I love you and only you"

Charles bit his lip, a fresh set of tears brimming his eyes. He had never had someone understand him on the level that you do.

The love between the two of you knew no bounds, and he was now more convinced than ever than you were both made for each other.

"I love you too" he said before crashing his lips on yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and squeezing you tightly.

And with that, even though you had a long road ahead of you, you would tackle everything together.

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[codtrashsammy]

Just Simon Riley thoughts <3

Simon Riley who got a lil tattoo on his forearm- opposite of the existing tattoos on the other one. It’s something small, something that makes him think of of you. Something separate from the trauma fueled tattoos on his other arm, something he can look at on missions and be reminded he has a home to come back to, a person to come back to, you.

“I’ll get back to ya, sweet’art,”

Simon Riley who doesn’t want a big welcome home party, just wants to find wherever you are, flop down on top of you, and relish in the fact that his hands can caress your softness so sweetly. You make him feel human, whole.

“Hm. Missed ya, love.”

Simon Riley who is so unbelievably devoted. There is no other in his eyes, only you. You who still found your way into his heart even when he was doing nothing but pushing you away. You who always had a kind touch and a bright smile. You who had no reason to try with him- but you gave it your all anyway. No, he can’t look at anyone else, not when he is practically addicted to everything that is you.

“Only you, love. Can’t see no one else when I got perfection waitin’ f’me at home.”

Simon Riley who is trying so damn hard to love you. Simon who is trying to love you in the ways he knows you deserves yet believes it’ll never be enough. Sweet pet names, soft touches, constant reassurance. He’ll freeze hell over with his bare hands before he lets a day slip past that you believe you’re anything less than a deity in his eyes.

“I gotcha, love. I gotcha.”

Just Simon Riley 🥺🥰❤️‍🩹

[strwberri-milk]

Hello I hope you're doing well.

I swear your Fics get me through the day❤️

I love the way you write about the boys!

I have a (sort of angsty I think) request:

How do you think each of them will handle/what they're gonna do if they aren't exactly the reader's/MC's type? Like, they're not in a relationship with MC yet, and they're in the stage where they're starting to court MC, and then they find out that MC's type is like their exact opposite, and that's where they sort of notice MC doesn't really consider them as a potential partner because of this

Zayne has never really thought that his feelings for you have been reciprocated. Somehow, it slips his mind to think that you could ever like him, especially since he's seen the types of people you had crushes on growing up. He'd never ask you on a date because of this, happy enough to stay your friend. That's why he was so surprised when you asked him on a date, the happiness in his chest dissipating as he began to realise that you simply didn't seem to have it in you to love him as much as he loves you.

His response is simply to break things off. He tells you not to try and force yourself onto him, that if you don't like him you don't have to pretend you do to fulfill some sort of perceived expectation you think he has. He doesn't really let the conversation progress further than that, moving past it. The two of you end up never really being the same, still able to be friends and hang out together but there's always something just bubbling under the surface.

Xavier doesn't realise what's wrong until he sees the way you look at other people. You do your best not to stray while you're sort of with Xavier but you also haven't had a conversation about exclusivity yet, despite the fact that he is wholly devoted to you. He doesn't entertain the idea of breaking things off, not thinking that things were that bad.

You end up breaking things off, telling him that it's really nothing he's done to you. You just didn't know how to feel, struggling to move into more romantic feelings for him. He takes it surprisingly well you think, acting as though things are totally normal. You don't realise that he's become even quieter than usual, not really taking team missions anymore and going out of his way to avoid you. He doesn't know how to cope with his feelings for you and a desire to make you happy, ending up further into avoidance.

Rafayel is devastated. He can tell immediately that you don't really like him, not in the same way you seem to like other people. A part of him wants to delude himself into thinking that maybe it's just a phase, that you'd eventually fall for him the way that literally everybody else seems to. The other part of him is angry, incredibly so. He doesn't like the idea of you messing with his feelings, being cold to you before you can reject him.

The two of you just end up drifting apart. He doesn't return your calls or messages anymore, internally begging for your attention but also being too irrational to consider that maybe if you two talked something could be figured out. He thought that being by your side would be okay as long as he could touch you but your rejection did nothing but make him spiral.

Sylus doesn't take your denial well. You aren't fully aware of it right away, but he's known from the start that you don't really care for him as much as he does you. He doesn't want to do anything about it, seeing if he could slowly encourage you into accepting him in further. He'd do everything he can to try and convince your relationship to progress further but things just seem to remain stagnant.

You'd have to tell him that things just aren't working out. The two of you struggle to maintain a cordial friendship afterwards. That's not to say you can't depend on him - just the fact that it's hard for him to act as comfortable around him as he used to be. He still aims to keep you safe but you lack that camaraderie that the two of you had.

[janeeyrewannabe]

thinking about Simon and Patty's developing relationship

1049 words

I already know how Simon would act. He’s so intense in every aspect of his life. In his art, his work, his relationships with other people, his love wouldn’t be any different. His feelings for patty are a novel thing. Simon’s never been the relationship kind of guy, even a casual hookup is still too intimate. He keeps his heart under lock and key along with his thoughts and admiration, but with patty it’s different. The way she treats everything, especially him, with the utmost devotion makes him want to be better.

Being in prison was hard, reintegrating into the real world and becoming a functioning, contributing member of society was fucking worse. Fresh out of jail and experiencing a new kind of relationship, a loving one, was something else. He’s never had any kind of monogamous situation with anyone, even when he was younger it was girls he barely knew in dimly lit rooms or bathrooms who he never he interacted with outside of sex. The shift was tough at first, as he falls deeper and deeper in love he wants to crawl back into the hole he was in before, turn himself inside out, and walk away. It was really fucking hard to squash that instinct and bury it as deep as humanly possible, but he does it because he’s felt the warmth of patty’s embrace and her tenderly curious gaze and there is no way he's letting that go.

Even though patty is the inexperienced one, Simon feels like a virgin. It’s the small moments that make him think he's back at square one. Waking up in bed with patty when she's still asleep. Just watching her breathe, seeing her chest rise and fall in an almost inconceivable way. Her overgrown bangs sprawled out across her forehead, long enough to be peaking into her eyes. Little bags under her eyes, mouth open a little. He can feel her breath on his arm, he’s never been more grateful to hear someone snore. Or maybe he's driving around with patty in his truck, which he kinda never gave it back (patty kept it warm for him while he was away), holding her hand and answering her questions while listening to her demos. Picking her up from work and making out in the back seat. Sitting on her bed watching her write her songs while he smokes a cigarette. Letting him get the first listen and mixing it up together. she’s picked up a few things from him, not so shit at the drums anymore. The feeling in his chest that’s too powerful to brush off.

He’s never been so close to someone, physically and emotionally, it frightens him a little. Think of when he tells patty he's john q but times a billion. When they lay in bed together after sex it's the polar opposite of any other post coital experience he's ever had. The I love you that's left on their tongues like the aftertaste of a cigarette that lingers for hours. They chat about whatever, trivial shit, it's what unsaid that makes it really fucking special. The promise of the future tangled in between them, trickling into their minds with visions of moving in together, making music together, just existing together outside of the watchful eyes of everyone else. Loving and coveting uninhibitedly.

Patty is the same but also completely different. She doesn't really have a problem with the emotional intimacy. She bares her heart to him right off the bat, sharing her quirks and habits. It’s harder with her words, she can’t ever really find the right ones. Even if she does it’s hard to string them together in a way that truly represents how she feels. Her affection for Simon comes out in her music. The lyrics and the sound she envisions as she writes shows the love she holds for him. You can see it in her expression too when she performs, searching for his face in the tightly packed crowd. Staring him down and singing the notes that crawl into his ears and travel through his veins to his heart and down to his dick. She’s never had anyone treat her the way Simon treats her, like she's his equal.

Just experiencing Simon for two days brought her out of her shell, but being with him day after day completely transforms her. She feels grateful to Simon for this; the adoration isn't one sided, she's got it just as bad as he does. Everything reminds her of him. Sissy and Karen tells her she sounds like a broken record, it’s Simon, Simon, Simon 24/7. When she's on her lunch break walking around outside the plaza where she works, she strolls past some guy smoking a cigarette. She smiles wide and bright, it reminds her of Simon. Of when he comes back inside at night after smoking outside, she kicks him out because her dad won't stop sneezing every time he walks into her room, cold and reeking of smoke. Breathing him in as she wraps her arms around his dirty green jacket and muscular body. Or maybe she sees a lighter on the ground while waiting for the bus, or a cloud that looks like his haircut. She sees his beauty everywhere she goes.

It’s the physical intimacy that she struggles with at times though. At first it’s intimidating being with Simon, he might be unnerving to most but the man gets around. It makes her nervous to surrender herself completely in such an intimate way, especially to someone who has done this a million times with a million people. But it's the way that he never makes her feel less than for not knowing or being a little shy that helps her come out of her shell. Even if she’s not the most experienced she still has a few tricks up her sleeve. Simon can get the same way too. When it's hard and fast, easy peasy, he’s well versed in that department. When it's long and painstakingly slow with shuddered breaths and I love you’s tumbling into the air around them, he gets a little freaked out. Once he gets over it, it consumes him, he can't get close enough. Patty too. They're inextricably connected in every metaphysical way possible.

i use the word love way too many times in this omfg. please bare with me this is literally the first thing i’ve ever written ever 😭 if u don't like it pls lie to me

[azulaaaaaaah]

atla/tlok characters that i think did *it* (but i just can’t prove it)

this is the most unserious post i’ve ever made. (AND I WANT TO PREFACE BY SAYING BY *IT* I MEAN KISSING)

Sozin and Roku

and history will say that they were just great friends…

this is the only one where ill legitimately die on this hill

like i’m 90% sure roku just showed Aang their friendship in the flashbacks to prevent awkwardly explaining to a 12 year old monk that he was romantically and/or physically involved with the person who committed a g*nocide against his people

LIKE CMON WHY IN THE WORLD WAS SOZIN SO PRESSED IN THE BACKGROUND OF ROKU’S WEDDING ??? AND FOR NO REASON?? WHY WAS THEIR FRIENDSHIP SO INTENSE?

sozin i feel loved roku (to an obsessive level) and roku literally dgaf. king shit

Wan and Raava

genuinely what the fuck was going on between these two. like i don’t even have any words

canonically at the very least it was a domestic partnership

S2 korra doesn’t make sense at the best of times. imagine trying to explain the intensity of this pair’s devotion to each other, to someone who hasn’t seen the show- all the while knowing raava is a disembodied spirit practically older than time

she’s the embodiment of everything good and light in the universe and he’s just wan. (and he’s wanough <3)

‘do you think we’re soulmates in every life?’

‘bet’

‘wait that’s not what i-‘

Cabbage Merchant and his cabbages (or at least a cabbage)

yeah i’m not touching this one with a 10 foot pole

Every member of the red lotus squad

ah yes it’s my favourite evil polycule

amidst plans to kidnap children and topple monarchies what else is there to do except… kiss.

let’s be real there’s something so inherently romantic about being apart of an elite, vaguely murderous anarchist squad

they all share one exact bed. it’s canon

(p’li somehow big spoons all of them)

The S2 Nomads

these dudes are the textbook definition of anti-monogamy

like they’re obsessed with love so i fully believe that they think ‘it should be spread amongst others’ or some shit

oh to be a travelling communist nomad in a band, wandering the wilds with my wife, and our several partners

they’re somehow the opposite of the red lotus and yet the same. they all share a single bed/sleep area

The dangerous ladies (but all separately)

i don’t ship any of these particularly and yet can still admit that it’s canon

ty-lee and azula have kissed bc azula probably made up a dumb excuse like ‘oh i don’t want my first kiss with a guy to be… erm… bad’

mai and ty-lee have kissed because they both probably have genuine, vaguely deep rooted romantic feelings for each other

mai and azula have kissed to purely spite zuko (and yknow what ty-lee too)

HOWEVER A KEY ASPECT TO THIS DYNAMIC: azula is completely unaware about the ty-lee and mai thing. it’s uh… better off that way.

Hakoda and Bato

i ship this about 50% but like… it’s got to have happened once right? considering all that down time they spent together on a boat away from the repercussions of water tribe society…

also considering they were leaders i doubt the other warriors were in a position to ever call them out on it

like cmoooooooon what’s a little kiss between the homies every now and again?

hakoda is where sokka gets his rizz/flagrant bisexuality from and i can’t change that guys

[starzzmissthesun]

The Black brothers will always be two sides of the same coin. Two fates always intertwined, placed into the hands of the other. They will never be whole without the other. Sirius, the embodiment of detachment and apathy. When he had to leave, he only had one problem. Regulus. The only person then who he really cared about. He found the rest of his family boring, uninteresting, everyone was the same. When he went to Hogwarts, only the people who were a stark difference from what he grew up surrounded by could he find some attachment to. James, the opposite of his brother, loud and non-comformative, joyful and funny. Peter, who was too skittish and unambitious for any similarity to be drawn. Lily, not like any of the women in his family, she knew what she wanted and got it through reasonable means, very kind and passionate. And Remus. Nothing about Remus was even adjacent to his upbringing. He was everything he needed, and he found how to balance and love them all. But Regulus, he was caught up in obsession. He couldn't help but be consumed by anything he felt in line with. He never changed, no, an unmovable force. He only gravitated towards what he was, as well. He was always caught up in these tornadoes. Then he met barty, and barty was a force. They were two collapsing stars, each being pulled into the others gravitational pull. They got closer and closer, they find they are the same, they become one. They sweep eachother up, they fuel eachother, so in line. And as regulus' belief in Voldemort and his ideals becomes obsession, so does barty's. Regulus can't see anything but barty, what else is there? He forgets himself, he changes. He's never changed. He starts to doubt everything, everything but barty, there really is nothing else now. His family is all going their own way in the war, his peers are all odd and annoying, his beliefs are being tested, and Voldemort isn't what he was supposed to be. He knows something must be done, and once he knows what it is, he's set in his choice. And when hes being pulled, clawed, pried open, dragged, and wrentched under the sharp depths of the lake, all he can think of is barty, still a tornado in his mind. For Regulus, he never lost Sirius. He stayed the same, Sirius was always changing. He knew this, and he knew Sirius didn't care. This doesn't mean he wasn't angry at him, but he knew they were still attached, tied together. Sirius never stopped losing Regulus. It started in his first year; he left, and when he came back, he could see their relationship was gone, it was something else. He couldn't see that it didn't leave, it's just something new. Then, Regulus was sorted to Slytherin, like everyone knew he would, and started hanging around those people, and sirius' hope was gone again. He left, and he knew that he lost his Regulus when he knew of the mark. Not long enough after, Regulus was dead. And then too long after, Sirius was too. And right before he was gone he knew he wasn't going to the afterlife, he wasn't going to see his baby brother again. The coin is not only their blood, their connection, it's their faithfulness. Sirius' manifests in loyalty. Hes blinded by it so much that hes shell shocked when he sees the potters' bodies on that fateful day. He immediately realizes he must avenge them. Regulus' manifests in devotion. He sacrifices what's and needs for his family's name. He gives himself to Voldemort and his beliefs by becoming a death eater as a teenager. He let's himself forget everything else that should be important except for barty, because that's all he wants. Sirius and Regulus will always be parralleling and opposing eachother, dancing around eachother and mimicking eachothers' ways. They will always be faulted for the other by everyone.

[sebadztian]

Throughout the manga, we've come across a few master-butler pairs in relation/comparison to Sebastian & Ciel's own relationship.

Now, not every arc has it, and the most notable pairs are Grell & Madam Red, Agni & Soma, and Wolf & Sieglinde.

Essay below the cut...

1. Madam Red & Grell

These two are probably the closest (so far) that we have in comparison to Sebas & Ciel. The butler in this dynamic is a supernatural being, who 'fell in love' with her mistress, but she ended up killing her when the Madam showed hesitation. I did make an essay about this a long time ago, comparing this with S&C. No, I'm not saying that Sebas would end up killing Ciel (at least, not in that way), but o!Ciel & Madam Red went through something quite similar.

They both were 'overshadowed' by their older sibling, and yet, they still adore them so much. Madam still loved Rachel, despite everything. While o!Ciel is not particularly fond of r!Ciel right now, there was a time when these two were inseparable.

The question is, if/when they come face to face with r!Ciel again, would o!Ciel hesitate - just like Madam did? And if he did, what would Sebas do?

2. Soma & Agni

These two are the complete opposite of S&C (at the time of their meeting). Agni had genuinely loved & worshipped Soma and he was so devoted to his master & his god, he'd 'betrayed' him in order to protect him.

As we know, Agni had made quite an impression on Sebas and the demon has taken a few of Agni's advice and applied them in his own work, such as putting Ciel's well-being above his orders.

So, my question would be, would Sebas end up doing the same thing? 'Betraying' Ciel in order to protect him?

Of course, nowadays, Sebas has softened up quite a lot, which also begs the question, would Sebas meet the same fate as Agni then? To die protecting his master...

3. Wolf & Sieglinde

Now, these two were unique, yet, they somehow mirrored Sebas & Ciel in their own ways.

A brilliant child who's been confined in a castle/manor, who grew up without knowing what out there, but then suddenly, they were thrust into the world with no one else but their respective 'butler' by their side.

At this point of the manga, we don't know what would happen to these two, or if anything would happen at all, so it's not easy to reflect on their 'ending' in relation to Sebas & Ciel.

Another thing to note about this pair is how they were separated briefly, where Wolf appeared to have 'betrayed' Sieg, but in the end, he came back to her side and protected her anyway.

General point

If you think about it, the timeline of when Sebas & Ciel met these other pairs also reflected where they were in their relationship.

When they met Grell for the first time, Sebas & Ciel were still at the point when they were pretty hostile to each other. If Kuro had ended there, I had no doubt that Sebas would end up doing something similar to Ciel as what Grell did to Madam.

But their relationship had developed from there and entered Soma & Agni.

Faith became a big thing with this pair and despite what Sebas said 👇

I believe that since then, he has developed some sort of faith (or something similar to it). After all, it was Ciel's confidence in him that has enabled him to fight on in the Campania arc 👇

It might've taken them a while to get there, but they did get there eventually.

Which brings me to Wolf-Sieg pair. At the point of their meeting, Sebas & Ciel were in 'good term', until Ciel got attacked by the gas and rejected Sebas. If they hadn't gone through what I'd call the 'Agni-Soma phase', I'm pretty sure that Sebas would've eaten Ciel for real. The old, Madam Red era Sebas would.

There were two different endings so far. Where the butler would end up killing their master, or the one where the butler would end up dying protecting their master. Sebas had almost gotten the second ending, so I'm quite confident that he'd never betray o!Ciel (at least not for real).

Ofc, nobody (except for Yana & maybe her team) knows how Kuro would end, but I thought this is an interesting point.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Assassin, Part 5

(completely forgot to add the link to this to literally anything. 🤦🏻 I'm so sorry if any of you missed this chapter)

Fem Reader x Raphael

No warnings

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Eyes used to the near complete darkness of the foyer, a shaft of moonlight nearly blinds him. It floods the sitting room, casting a fractured skyline on the wall, and in the center of the room, opposite the empty fireplace, a goddess lies asleep.

Seven steps, as if caught by the tide, he is pulled to you, pale and cold in the moonlight. Lying on the chaise lounge, your green dress looks like a moonlit landscape, and the silk clings to every peak and valley beneath. A manifestation of the living, breathing earth.

He looks down at you in reverence. You'd brought warmth and light and beauty into his cold concrete world. Hundreds of years ago, he would have built temples to you. Your devoted.

You shift in your sleep and the landscape changes, bringing him out of his reverie. He's exhausted, and he's hurting, but he can't just leave you out here.

He looks at the fragile wooden staircase that leads up to your room, and sighs. D hasn't gotten around to reinforcing them yet, but Raph is the only one who's too heavy to make it upstairs, so it hasn't really been a priority.

He kneels, taking you into his arms and carrying you to his room.

Unable to move his hammock from the lair, he typically uses a blanket covered pile of pillows in the back room. It seems almost blasphemous, lying you on something so vulgar. But it's all he can offer you, and he does the best he can.

He covers you with a blanket, stealing one last glance at your face in the moonlight, and turns to make his way out of the room. It'd be easy enough to sleep in the barn, and it wouldn't be the first time. He stops short when a soft voice calls from behind him.

"Raphael?"

Fuck.

He closes his eyes and sighs before turning around. You're staring up at him with sleepy eyes still hazy from tears and champagne, and push yourself to sitting.

He looks down at you with an unreadable expression. As consciousness comes back into focus, fractured memories of the evening flood you.

He'd said no. He'd said no and you kept pressuring him. You made it so that there was no way you could play it off as a one time thing. A fluke. You couldn't pretend that you thought he was someone else, or that you were too drunk to know what you were doing. You wanted him, and you made that clear, and now things are going to be weird until they completely fall apart, but you have to do *something*.

You broke it.

You *have* to fix it.

"I'm sorry... If I made you uncomfortable tonight, I..." You blink the tears back behind your eyes, and words come pouring out of you instead, "I know I should have stopped asking after the first time you said 'no,' but I was drinking and I know that's no excuse, but I swear it won't happen again and I know I ruined everything, but if we could just pretend none of it ever happened..."

"(Y/N)..." He interrupts softly. Closing his eyes tight and rubbing his forehead. He was hearing noise and processing none of it.

That's when you see it, in his dull amber eyes, in the way he seems too tired to carry himself. He'd crashed, and he'd crashed hard. This conversation was not going to happen tonight.

Instinct has you reaching out to him. You take his hand and pull gently, he's too tired to resist. He lies beside you on the pile of pillows and you pull yourself against him, fingertips gently gripping the upper lip of his plastron, head resting under his chin.

He can't help it, he wraps himself around you, pulling you far closer and far tighter than is probably wise, and buries his nose in your hair.

He needs this. He needs you close. Even if you're the reason he's hurting, you're still the place he runs to. Home.

He breathes you in and lets sleep finally claim him.

(FIN)

...

Less a lover, more a fighter

But I'm tired of fighting to hold on

Got too many scars to hide them

So it's easier being on my own

But you

Shoot first, draw blood, before I know

Yeah you

One shot, one touch, and I let go

How did this happen?

My walls were up and

You moved without a sound

Never imagined, like an assassin

One look to me down...

Assassin, Sultan + Shepherd

...

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja

[stargirl-writes]

heal

pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 3.5 k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

in which anakin skywalker chooses to run away with you before all is lost in mustafar.

tags : au, angst!!, hurt/no comfort

warnings : toxic love, dark fic, ptsd, and reader being so dependent on anakin, suicidal behavior

notes : my reader character being a healer is my self indulgent insert 😭

i've sat w this 4 so long cause i was like 'realistically, what would happen if anakin ran away?' and i think i've finally made up my mind abt it.

time is moving fast for this fic because i wanted to cover so much, so heads up for the skips!

ALSO, ear-ringing apologist perspective. if u can't handle reader being blind to faults, this is not for u haha!

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future. 

At least, it was something you want believed in.

The clone war that raged on revealed just how much people can be persuaded to do horrible things when their survival is at stake.

You underestimated that instinct yourself. The burning desperation to not lose your Anakin Skywalker. You thought, you would have killed for him, the way he would for you.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was the one to tell you how Anakin became irredeemable.

It was a blur how you flew to Mustafar despite it. You needed Anakin to admit to it, you needed to take him away from what he'll become.

The crimes he committed made you feel sick, septic like a festering wound.

But, whether you love what you love.

Or live in divided ceaseless revolt against it, what you love is your fate.

You've been so alone. So much so, you can only define a time with Anakin, and without him.

It was gradual. It couldn't have been some higher power that destined you to him, He had been a General of a war, and you, the Healer. It was all odds, that you fell in the right place at the wrong time.

An unwilling hero, and a glorified murderer.

He was crafted to be a tool in the war. Divinely created by the Force with the purpose of bringing balance. And in a war, that meant doing damage, killing.

Every victory he had was a stark contrast to yours.

Every life he takes, be it a droid or a separatist, is a win. And every life you lose is a name added to the long list of casualties.

You and Anakin were opposites.

So, the shock of it remains, because somehow along the way, Anakin loved you. And you loved him. You had each other to cling to.

The terror of What if it doesn't last, What if there's no one else? What happens if it goes back to being alone? persists.

And you might not belong anywhere else.

But you were his. As he is yours. Not in the manner of possession. Yours in the way of devotion.

Mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love.

You knew that Anakin's love was conditional. You were only the one in front of him. You didn't misunderstand. You let him use you anyway.

It's not like you were loving him unconditionally, it was because you were terrified to be lonely.

At least, in the beginning, you believed so.

Most days were occupied by your duties. And Anakin would love you in a way that is shaped like fingers wrapped around a throat. Incessant. Hungry. Teeth deep in possession. Making up for the little time, holding you against him as if he was bracing himself that someday you won't be around.

It felt like he was always saying goodbye.

So, though your heart was nearly breaking out of your ribs, you flew by yourself to Mustafar.

A pile of lifeless Separatist figures greeted you in horror.

It was true. Anakin had gone to the dark side. What he did with those children... 

The fear consumed you like a corrosion, but still, you stood in front of him, begging him to come back.

Anakin had carried a deep malaise when you had found him. It was almost emanating from his blood-stained robe, a coldness, a deadly assurance.

"You're not supposed to be here," Anakin says in a strangled voice. His hands firmly holding your arms.

The color of his eyes startled you. It was like looking at a ghost, and all that was left was an unending rage. You fought to not let your fear swallow you.

"Anakin, we have to go" Your lips quivered, not entirely sure what you were planning.

There will never be escaping the things he's done.

You want him to go away with you, anyway.

Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future. 

For a while, it was quiet. Anakin's glossy blue eyes were gazing at you, in conflict, and begging to be understood.

"I can't... Don't you see? I've restored justice to the galaxy" He abruptly lets go, and turns, concealing his face away from your sight. "The things I've done... I can't, there's no running away from it"

The guilt he feels leads him to think that the only path now is through the one he sacrificed his morality for.

"No," you struggled, voice failing to hide your anguish. "Anakin, you can't let this be your fate. Run away with me." You pleaded, eyes filled with tears.

A life of loneliness. With no one, the way it used to. 

Then, Anakin half turns. He surveys your willingness to take him as he is. Maybe, even wanting to believe it.

You have always loved Anakin, even the parts you have not understood.

Perhaps, this was the similarity that bound you together. Burning devotion. One that allows you to see past your moral code.

You gave so much to the war. You'd run yourself spent from the hours. You fought so hard to keep people from dying. You'd never taken anything but this. A chance at life. Away from it all.

"I would've done anything you asked of me" His voice reveals his devastation.

You stepped forward, "Then come with me, Leave it all behind, I need you"

You held your breath, half convinced that this may very much be the end of things.

But Anakin takes your hand, and you don't waste a minute more to take him away in your ship.

Your hands shook the entire time.

The galaxy was silent when the war ended.

Mace Windu's attempt to assassinate the Chancellor made the Jedi an enemy of the Empire.

It triggered an Order that made clone soldiers turn against their Generals. The Jedi are hunted down for treason.

You and Anakin will never find security again.

The atmosphere was thick with emotions that were strained by the abruptness of events. It was making it so much harder to breathe. To live with the truth of it.

All three years of the war are reduced to two moments; Anakin falling into Palpatine's manipulation, and Anakin choosing to run away with you.

You caught yourself slipping away. Tucked in a corner of your mind where you can feel safe.

The healer's oath replays in your mind, the cruelest reminder.

Blind to faults, blind to good. Serve to save, not to see.

As the jedi healer, you weren't allowed to deny patients. You wondered whether that played into role when you stomached all the horrible things Anakin did.  Serve to save, despite, despite, despite...

You landed in a remote place on your home planet of Hapes.

It was a secluded cabin that you used to go to when you were younger. Surrounded by a lake that stretches as far as your eyes can see. It was the first thing that came to mind when you set your ship on autopilot.

Anakin was quiet the entire time.

You, too, became paralyzed by the events that has unraveled.

For a few days, it remained like that.

Though the event has passed, your body can't quite regulate.

It still feels as though someone will find you. And take Anakin with them. You knew your hypervigilance was a consequence of your trauma, but knowing doesn't mean you can let the feeling go.

Even Anakin responds to mild stressors as if he was still in the war. He'd not let you off his sight the first few weeks.

You felt as though Anakin was trying to process everything in his mind. And you grew terrified of his growing silence. Knowing Anakin meant knowing his tendencies to vacillate violently. The reality of what he had done would set and it'd twist into something septic. An unending shame.

You were convinced that he'd have killed himself from it.

But then he'd stare at you deeply as if he was committing you to memory. He'd coddle your face in his palm. He'd hold your hand, hands that are capable of so much rage, and so much tenderness. He'd hold you tight against him in bed, the way he used to.

He can't quite communicate it through words yet, so he'd rely on his touch to let you know that he was still here. Your anxieties eased after. He needed to detangle it on his own. You'd be there whenever he is ready.

Obi-Wan Kenobi appears the next month.

It was through luck that you were the one to open the door.

You knew Obi-Wan would want Anakin to answer for the crimes he's committed.

You won't let him.

"What do you want?" You say cautiously. Stepping forward to the Jedi Master to stop him from entering your new home.

Obi-wan furrows his eyebrows at your action. He gazes at you for a moment before speaking up. "You know what he's done, [Name]"

"The Republic has fallen. The system that replaced it won't hold him to what he's done. It's the very reason for its existence, anyway"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows flashed hearing your words. It seemed as though you'd be the last person he'd expect to exhibit such... heartlessness.

"And what, do you intend to keep him here forever?"

You looked down, fiending an expression of indifference you learnt from Anakin.

"I'm more selfish than he is"

Obi-Wan sighs. There were no more Jedi Council to hold Anakin accountable. You wonder if Obi-Wan had gone looking for him out of the responsibility he felt he had. You could use that.

"If you have any love left for Anakin, You'll leave him with me" You persuaded.

Obi-Wan sharply looks at you. You knew he was being torn apart by his mind and heart.

The door swings, revealing Anakin who appears behind you.

Anakin's arm extends to put you behind him. Obi-Wan was caught, stricken by the sight of his apprentice. You held on to Anakin's forearm.

You held your breath.

Then, Obi-Wan opens his arm to hug Anakin.

Anakin froze, perhaps not expecting his Master to embrace him after...

He turns his head to look at you, then back to his Master. And he reluctantly wraps his arm around Obi-Wan.

You exhaled finally.

You saw Obi-Wan's glossy eyes as he pulled away. He may not forgive Anakin for all the things he's responsible for, but his love for him surpasses all the anger he has.

Gaining his master's acceptance, Anakin became recognizable once more.

However, Obi-Wan could not stay. Perhaps, he's grown sick of stomaching the love he had for Anakin. It was not an easy feeling to be fond of.

When Obi-Wan left, Anakin finally came to you.

It hauntingly paralleled the moment he broke down after he lost his mother. After he gave in to his rage. Only this time, he didn't hold the pose of defiance and came undone, weeping for what he'd done.

You held him and told him that what matters now is what he'll choose to do.

And in the months that come, Anakin has fought to deserve your forgiveness.

He wanted to earn your love.

As a healer, your experience with foraging natural medicine made you more equipped to build a sustainable life. In six months, you were able to make this house by the lake a place to call home.

But, Anakin is being dragged through time. He'd do his best to help, but you can feel his... silence. The weight of it, this was not the life he was groomed to have. He has always lived off the adrenaline. The absence of it makes him constantly feel as though he is at the other end of the high.

It'd worry you whenever he comes home late from a hunt. He's always been reckless, that much hasn't changed. He'd come home covered in tissue deep cuts, bruised muscles, and a dead-pan look in his eyes. It was a topic that you tried to communicate— and a topic Anakin would respond defensively to.

"It's nothing" He'd dismiss whilst you were dressing the wound.

You'd press the clean gauze over his skin, on the brink of anxiety. He'd wince and take the gauze from your hand.

And you'd stand up and leave, because your patience would have run out by then.

It upset you how he always stands on a cliff to wait for the winds to swoon him over because he won't jump, he won't make that decision himself.

Your breaths were shallow as you tried to calm down after yelling about how his passivity over danger was eating at you. You needed him to try. Because you can't save him on your own.

"I'm sorry" Anakin looks down, receding. " I just don't know how to do this" He admits, eyes wide, childlike, helpless.

And you thaw, breaths shallow as you fought to not cry from the anger.

"Anakin, if you don't..." You began, looking down at the ground as if the words would appear before you there. "if you don't want this anymore, you can go"

Because the entire year you have spent in this cabin, it felt like time has frozen. You hoped that in time, you and Anakin would find the courage to move past the war. Of course, it was futile, you can never take back what you've given to the effort.

Whatever is left of you and Anakin is all there is now. And sometimes, it feels like there is nothing. Just ghosts of who you once were. You weren't sure if being with you was making any difference at all.

You were selfish, but not enough to keep him as he wastes away. You'd let him go, even if it'd cripple you forever.

Anakin grabs both of your shoulders firmly, forcing you to look up to him.

"Why do you think I came with you?" Anakin's voice was stern. His eyes fixed, determined to imprint words to your heart.

You held on to his arm, swallowing your anguish. "I only meant that if I'm not doing you any good, you should—"

"And where would I go?" He interrupts, unrelenting.

"I don't know" You admitted. You're ruining him. You've done this to him. You should let him go.

His grip loosened, and his lips kept opening and closing as if he was eating up the words before letting it leave his mouth.

"—I'm trying, [Name]"

"I'm giving you my life, I don't have anything larger to give" His voice breaks, and his head dips. "I'm trying" he repeats.

You felt his tears warm against your clavicle. Your fingers tangling with his hair.

"I know, Ani" You coo gently. "We'll try together" You promised.

It was becoming clearer that he was alleviating his sins by trying to kill the entity that once controlled him. It was also becoming harder to see a monster when all you see is Anakin, the love you abandoned everything for.

Anakin, who was sold as a slave, and then freed, only to be chained to another lifelong servitude through the Jedi. Anakin, who was dropped in the middle of a war, and made responsible for a child whilst being a child himself.

The Jedi Order relied on his nature of winning, despite not agreeing with his tactics. He'd be patronized for his violence, which his life would soon be defined by. Anakin's worst action is murder, the same way his best action is murder. Because if he doesn't answer to the shots fired, he'd be the one receiving them.

He was never afforded any space to become anything else.

Except when he's with you.

Anakin can become cruel, the same way he is loving. Two truths can exist at the same time.

And with the months that flew by, you watched as Anakin continually chose to not let his darkness define him.

You were learning things about him that you couldn't have had during the war. The way he neatly keeps inventory of his tools. The intense focus in his eyes when he is concentrating. The way the wood creaks— the cadence of his steps. All committed to memory because no one else can know him the way you do.

He told you, you saved him. And you wept, unsure whether what you did was really an act of selflessness.

Living with him became easier. No more effort to try to gain his love. No approval, no admiration to attain. There is no role to play, no one to convince. Just, being. There was so much time, and the only thing that mattered was; how long do we have each other?

Most days, Anakin would carry his grief so well, that you'd forget it was even there. He'd work to minimize it, to live with it. However, when the dark comes, he has no control over his dreams. and the overwhelming shame and guilt seep.

It had been two years when you woke up abruptly to find the space beside you empty.

You grabbed your robe, the cold midnight air felt crisp against your skin. Finding Anakin was easy. He'd always wander towards the edge of the lake, staring at the moons.

"It's cold, Ani, come back to sleep" You urged, but Anakin's gaze was far away.

He has chopped some of his hair, and it looked the way it used to during the war. It startles you sometimes to remember how young he still was.

"I had a dream" He speaks softly, arms finding a way to snake around you so he'd press you against him. "It felt as real as you now" His gaze lands on you.

It terrified you to ask, but you did anyway.

"We had a child"

Oh.

You chuckled in surprise. Stepping back to process what he said. It just never seemed to occur to you, then. Though you have never dismissed the idea, it just felt like you were barely surviving to try to raise a child.

Anakin smiles when he realizes he made you flustered. "Good thing it was only a dream?"

You let out a breathless laugh, somehow relieved that Anakin was not seriously considering it.

"Yes," You weren't ready. You may never find it in yourself to ever be ready.

"We're not bringing a child now, not like this"

Anakin's expression melts, "Yes, the empire is growing stronger" His guilt resurfaces.

"I never imagined it to be like this for us," He thinks out loud,

"We have to make the best of what we have" You sigh.

"I've been thinking" Anakin begins, "maybe, there is still something that can be done"

You try steadying your breath, somehow bracing yourself for this moment; when he'll want to fight again.

It was everything he was made for. You knew that, you just didn't think it'd be in under a short period.

Something was screaming inside you. A fear, that you thought had gone when you ran away with Anakin. It was telling you that you were going to lose him. And you, selfishly, want to stop him. He can't... if he goes, he'll die. And you can't even begin to imagine what'll happen to you if he dies.

"How?" You asked despite yourself.

"Ahsoka mentioned something about a rebellion," He says, voice thick with something he hasn't had before. Hope.

"The galaxy needs changing" He steps forward.

You shook your head, overcome by the anxiety of it. "Anakin, I'm never going back"

He turns on his heel, eyes narrowed at your proclamation. "I didn't ask you to come back"

You tilt your head, "Of course, you weren't" Though you knew you were being unfair, just the idea of it was sending stress already.

Anakin's eyebrows knit. "I'm only thinking out loud, it's one thing to consider it but another to act on it" He defends.

Though, you know this is where it begins. And you were responding defensively because you knew where it would lead.

Anakin will forever feel as though he has to restore the galaxy to how it was before he helped destroyed it. It won't be long until he'd despise himself for choosing to stay here with you. Especially since it's been drilled into him that he's supposed to be the one to bring balance to the force.

Whether he loves you or lives in a divided ceaseless revolt against it, what he chooses to love is your fate.

His purpose or you. 

Going would give him his closure.

Going would anchor you to the hells of your biggest fear.

"Anakin, please don't go where I can't follow" Your voice broke, begging. It was selfish to want to keep him for the second time.

And you weren't sure whether your love would be enough for Anakin to stay.

Not when it only brought him here, a home by the lake, forever standing on thin ice that always threatened to break under.

You were living under the false pretense of security. All of this, the house, the lake, the isolation, are reminders that you and Anakin will never go back to normalcy, no matter how much you pretend.

A knife may dull, but its purpose remains to cut.

Anakin's expression softens and he presses his lips on the temples of your forehead.

You were slowly understanding that the entire galaxy's fate was carried inside Anakin Skywalker.

The chosen one.

Every decision he made was informed by that pressure. No matter how personal, it always builds to a path that he can't control, because it's already laid out for him.

Created by the force, to be used by the force.

So you can't find the heart to be angry when he left.

You decided it would be hopeless to try to stop him. Anakin has this view that everything in his life, he has to work to earn. To deserve.

Even this... freedom that you have.

He has to contribute to it, in this perverse grandiose action as to fight the Empire. So he can accept that you do indeed love him.

He has to seize this opportunity with Ahsoka. He is more autonomous of his power now. He is once again engaging in something that's risking his life. He can fulfill his destiny.

It didn't make it any less painful.

You had to inspire confidence in him, otherwise, he'd doubt. So, you pushed all your feelings away and smiled when you kissed him goodbye.

You never left the war. The two years you stole were only stalling the inevitable. Perhaps, two years was too generous.

"Bring him back, please" You took Ahsoka aside. Ahsoka nods uncommitedly. For, she won't promise what she can't deliver.

And once again, you have found yourself alone.

He swore he'd have done anything for you.

Just not this one.

His belief that he has no inherent right to life; and has to work to earn anything made you feel as though you were his... prize. A trophy. In which he'd fight for to retain but not value enough to take care of.

He should've stayed. It's good he left.

Because now that you have nothing, you're finally able to detangle how Anakin doesn't love you. Not in the way you thought. Anakin loves that he has you.

You have always put his wellness first, that now, when you are not so worried by walking carefully around his hurt, you are able to feel yours.

Perhaps, losing Anakin was good. You can finally put yourself first. Whilst he still seeks answers in the past

There is no going back to the way it was. You tried living 'normally' and it just became a bitter reminder that you are forever changed.

Acceptance of that and lending yourself a little more compassion might just be the beginning of your healing.

footnote

i'm obsessed with the writing style where authors strikes through the text ! it's such a smart way to imply that the character that's narrating is choosing not to allow those thoughts and so it looks like it's been scribbled out .

also, quoting ka applegate on relationships not lasting outside the war :

"wars don't end happily. not ever. often relationships that were central during war, dissolve during peace. some people who were brave and fearless in a war are unable to handle peace, feel disconnected and confused. "

[qiu-yan]

2 and 21 for mdzs please?

sorry for the wait!

choose violence ask game

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

in terms of "compelling" arguments, i've got nothing. in terms of bullshit arguments i pulled out of my ass, though....

of course, the easy way out is to argue that jiang cheng is asexual and therefore would never come into sexual contact with anyone. an equally easy way out is to argue that jiang cheng is so rizzless that, even if he wanted to top or bottom, no one would do it with him....that's the easy way out of this question, though.

my own opinion is that, if jiang cheng were attracted to men and/or had a partner who was into pegging, he would have way too much internalized homophobia to give bottoming a try. even if he somehow got over himself enough to admit that he was into men (already impossible), he would still buy into the ancient-greek school of thought on homosexuality, wherein "ackshually it's only gay if you're on the bottom." he would be fully convinced that, if he were to bottom - and worse, if he were to enjoy it - he would become Less Man on an existential level. this would absolutely kill him inside, would make him actively more homophobic than if he were just straight or asexual, and would make him a nightmare for any other man to hook up with.

but of course, the more you adamantly refuse to even consider something - the more you fear something, in other words - the more you end up obsessing over it. if jiang cheng were actually hooking up with men in this scenario (entirely possible because he's like 6ft tall and probably can host because he's rich, which makes him a prime catch in the eyes of like 90% of grindr), he would adamantly refuse to bottom. he'd declare himself a hard top. but would he actually enjoy himself? or would he, as he topped in a lackluster manner whichever men were unfortunate enough to give him a chance, imagine himself in their position - first with disgust, as he told himself he was different than them; then with terror, as he feared that he might one day end up in their position; and then with something else?

because jiang cheng's fear - that he might one day bottom and enjoy it - would quickly mutate into a full-on psychosexual obsession with the concept of bottoming itself. because it's repression king jiang cheng we're talking about, said obsession would eventually become one of those things you're so afraid of that your fear ends up wrapping back around and turning into a fetish. because it's jiang cheng we're talking about, this would then lead to him actually bottoming one day. and then, because it's jiang cheng we're talking about and the universe hates him, he would actually end up enjoying it.

does his mindset change? maybe. or maybe he just becomes Worse.

i feel like i've ended up doing the opposite of answer the question.....sorry.....these are my honest thoughts, though.

21. part of canon you think is overhyped

i'm going to get killed for this, but that's the purpose of this ask game, so i'll be honest....."lan wangji as Love Interest." of course, by this i do not mean to say "lan wangji himself." rather, what i mean is the way in which lan wangji is a "love interest" first and a "character" second. in my view, the story is only really interested in lan wangji as "the guy who loves wei wuxian and is unquestioningly devoted to him," rather than interested in lan wangji as a character in his own right.

of course, the story spills a lot of ink on how much lan wangji loves wei wuxian, how much lan wangji has sacrificed for wei wuxian, how unquestioningly devoted lan wangji is to wei wuxian, and so on. and while this is all true and good, in my view, there are also several other interesting angles in lan wangji's story worth exploring. however, these angles instead seem rather neglected by the story, which appears to only want to discuss "lan wangji's devotion to his One True Love."

some angles i consider to be interesting, and which i felt like went underexplored in canon:

how much of lan wangji's support of wei wuxian is because he believed wei wuxian was right, and how much of it is because he loves wei wuxian and does not want to lose wei wuxian again? where does lan wangji's personal romantic love end and his moral compass begin? the novel equates [standing with wei wuxian] with [being righteous], but it is exceedingly easy to design a situation where the morally righteous path entails sacrificing wei wuxian in some way - how would lan wangji behave in such a situation? if wei wuxian himself had not protected the wen remnants (due to canon divergence or whatever), would lan wangji have spoken up for the wen remnants?

to what degree does lan wangji agree with wei wuxian's actions and consider said actions to be morally justified? comparatively, to what degree does lan wangji consider wei wuxian's actions to be morally questionable, and simply wants to shoulder wei wuxian's sins with him out of love? does lan wangji know and/or believe that wei wuxian killing jin zixuan was a genuine accident? if he does not know, does he care?

what does lan wangji's relationship with his family look like? on one hand, in his failed bid to save wei wuxian, he injured 33 of his own sect's elders, which under confucian principles is a massive wrongdoing. have the injuries of these elders healed? does lan wangji feel guilty? on the other hand, lan wangji's family betrayed both him and the moral principles they espoused, by first nearly whipping lan wangji to death and then joining the first siege of the burial mounds. does lan wangji resent his family for this? does he resent lan xichen and lan qiren, or does he understand that they had argued the punishment down from execution? is that why, after lan xichen's world shattered at the guanyin temple in yunping, lan wangji was able to immediately leave the premises with wei wuxian in tow, without once checking in on his brother?

what does lan wangji think of his late parents? does he want to know why his mother killed his father's teacher, or would he rather not know? does his family keep the knowledge from him, or does he avoid the knowledge himself? what does he think of his father's actions - to him, is his father someone who fell from the path of duty and righteousness for the sake of love, someone who selfishly abandoned his duties and forced his responsibilities onto his younger brother, and/or someone who imprisoned lan wangji's mother against her will and perhaps even forced himself onto her? does lan wangji know whether or not he was conceived consensually? does this bother him?

given the whole history of lan wangji's parents, how does lan wangji view his own, how should i say, sexual interests? lan wangji did once pin down a struggling wei wuxian and forcibly kiss him; would lan wangji make a connection between the nonconsensual nature of this deed and the imprisonment of his mother? furthermore, wang and xian's relationship postcanon seems to have an element of d/s and noncon roleplay to it (which i'm not judging them for, good for them); would that also remind lan wangji of how his father and his father's sect brought about the imprisonment of his mother? or are these two separate things entirely?

in my view, these are all highly interesting aspects of lan wangji's story - and all of these are implied by details given in canon. however, canon shirks discussing these aspects of lan wangji's character in favor of focusing on him as the Male Lead: rather than explore any of these angles, which would further define lan wangji as a person, canon seems far more interested in single-mindedly focusing on how sad lan wangji was that wei wuxian died, how tragic the loss of his One True Love was, and how wholeheartedly happy lan wangji is now that wei wuxian has come back and returns his feelings.

to me, it feels like this guy got sanded down from a "full individual" to a "love interest." it feels to me like the story gives us some details about lan wangji's own life, but then nonetheless insists on reducing him from a person in his own right to a satellite that revolves around wei wuxian (the story's real favorite). because of this, MDZS the novel read as less the wei wuxian and lan wangji story, and more the Wei Wuxian story starring Wei Wuxian, in which lan wangji is a love interest first and a person second.

i forget if i said this before or if i read it from someone else's blog, but it does feel like, if you want to love lan wangji on his own, you have to do a lot of the heavy lifting yourself. or at the very least scrub all the male lead energy off of him first, so that the individual underneath can be revealed.

[arizariia]

Controversial hot take, but The Phantom (aka Erik) was never the better choice for Christine. He abused her. I get that some people love "dark romance," but the reality is that she never saw him as a potential lover, and he never saw her more than something he could control and use. Also, he killed a man, and that immediately made her not like him. In the main song for the musical, he literally sings, "My power over you grows stronger yet." Power. Not love or devotion. Power. He saw Christine as a tool for him to use so someone could sing the music he wrote. To the Phantom, Christine is his possession.

Music Of The Night is just the Phantom projecting his hatred for the world and light on Christine, trying to get into her head that she should be in the darkness with him. It's possessive. That's all it is. Note that Christine doesn't have any singing roles at all in the song either. We don't get to hear what she has to say. She's entranced simply due to the fact that she's finally face to face with the man who helped her with her singing voice, and she is being shown new things.

Of course, this all falls apart when she takes off his mask and scares her. Literally chasing her. He calls her a "demon" and a "viper." It's only after he sees Christine's tearful and fearful expression that he starts doing the, "fear can turn to love," thing. She's still afraid of him, though.

Then the El Muto incident happens with Bouquet, and Christine is scared as shit. Raoul thinks that Christine is believing in fairytales, but that's because Christine was also the type to believe in things such as fairies. It makes sense that he wouldn't believe her at first. But of course, people who hate Raoul stop there and go, "That's why Raoul sucks!" But the reality is that he realizes that there's clearly more going on, and that's why All I Ask Of You happens. It's literally the opposite of Music of the Night. Most of all, Christine actually gets to voice her feelings, so we understand her better.

Raoul offers Christine freedom and protection. Christine sings,

All I want is freedom

A world with no more night

And you always beside me

To hold me and to hide me

Now, are we ready gonna sit here and say that she would have chosen the Phantom if it wasn't for Raoul? Christine finally gets a moment to use her words, and this is what she says. She never wanted to be with the Phantom in the first place. It was his singing voice that entranced her, but everything else scared the shit out of her. And when Raoul offers to be her "light," why wouldn't she take that opportunity?

When the Phantom claims that Christine "denied" and "betrayed" him, not only is he projecting hard, but Christine was never obligated to return his affections in the first place. You can't scare a woman to tears and then murder a man and get mad when the woman doesn't want to fuck you. Even the lines, "He was bound to love you when he heard you sing," is just a way for him to somewhat cope with what happened. The reality is that while the Phantom wants to believe that Raoul manipulated Christine into picking him, the two already harbored feelings for one another back during their childhood, and that puppy love they shared never truly left. She wasn't manipulated by Raoul, but the Phantom wanted to manipulate her.

Also, I love how people act like the Phantom truly loved Christine. Even though the moment she picks Raoul, he immediately says she will pay for not doing what he wanted. Then he drops the chandelier. That's textbook abusive behavior. "You don't do what I want? I'll hurt people and say it was your fault."

Christine is also now highly aware that the Phantom would kill Raoul if he knew she was close to him. She says that before All I Ask Of You and during Masquerade. She loves Raoul and can't wait to marry him, but she doesn't want the creepy man who lives in the basement knowing. And again, when the Phantom appears, he says to Christine, "Your chains are still mine– you belong to me," once again seeing Christine as some kind of possession.

And most of all, in Notes/Twisted In Every Way, Christine gets to sing this:

Raoul, it scares me–

Don't put me through this

Ordeal by fire...

He'll take me, I know...

We'll be parted forever...

He won't let me go...

What I once used to dream

I now dread...

If he finds me, it won't

Ever end...

And he'll always be there

Singing songs in my head...

He'll always be there

Singing songs in my head...

[And a little later she also sings]

Do I become his prey?

Do I have any choice?

He kills without a thought

He murders all that's good...

I know I can't refuse

And yet, I wish I could...

Again, there are people who think she should have stayed with the Phantom? Like, are you serious? Did we watch the same musical?

The story of the Phantom of the Opera is literally about a young woman discovering that someone who should have been her friend and guardian was actually a predatory abusive man and how she escaped him. But I get it. A lot of people didn't read the original book where the Phantom is ten times worse, and yeah, the men on stage are kinda hot. I do get that. But we can't forget that he was so abusive and controlling. Erik is the textbook example of how abused people can end up hurting more people. Yes, his backstory was sad, but that's no excuse for what he did. You can't force a woman to love you.

Yeah, I know. This is a rant. I'm just kinda sick of people who just seemed to miss the point of the narrative of Phantom and are acting like the literal abuser was the correct choice for Christine even though she made it clear the in story that she wanted to get away from all that. It was never about her singing career for her. That was never a be all end all. Love Never Dies isn't canon. I don't want to see people using that as some sorta gotcha.

Tl;dr

The Phantom is a little piss baby, and he wasn't the better choice. Stop pairing a victim with their abuser. It's weird.

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

I suddenly had a thought of GhostSoap being normal human beings and doing normal human being things and wanted to write some stuff for it.

1) Simon always forgets to replace the fuckin toilet paper and Johnny loses his mind over it every single time

2) Johnny has these quiet little snores that whistle out every time he breathes out and while it’s mildly annoying some nights Simon still finds it so endearing

3) Simon hogs the blankets, even in summer cause he’s just always cold, no matter what. Johnny tends to just snuggle in real close to Simon when he gets cold

4) Johnny is the cook of the house. He’s really good at it (his mother refused to let him leave home without knowing how to survive on his own) but he can’t bake. Simon’s the opposite where he can bake (his mum loved baking, taught him everything she knew) but can’t cook to save his life

5) Johnny’s always stealing Simon’s leftovers or hidden treats and Simon has threatened to stab him once or twice over it (it never stops Johnny from doing it again)

6) Simon totally found a stray cat and got the ‘you wanna keep him, you look after him’ talk and he has never been more devoted to looking after another living being after the whole thing with his family

7) Johnny’s got a million and one things in their bathroom all for the sake of looking after his hair and skin and what not and he definitely sits Simon down on the toilet seat every so often so he can do the same for him

8) Johnny seeks validation near constantly. Simon doesn’t know why but he always, always makes sure Johnny knows he’s appreciated and doing good and whatever else the man needs validation on

9) When Simon has night terrors the way to calm him down is to just let him cling to you. Don’t speak or anything just let him hold you and let him reassure himself that your alive and well. Sometimes he’ll be ready to talk about it in the morning, other times he’s content to let the memories go and just keep going

10) Johnny is the worst at taking out the trash. Since they live in a semi-old apartment complex they had to take their rubbish all the way downstairs when the bin in their place got full and Johnny fucking hates it

11) When one of them get put on leave and have to go back to the apartment by themselves they’ll play the other persons music and cook their favourite foods (or try at least) to try and fool themselves into thinking they’re not alone in their home

12) Simon totally has a stuffed toy that belonged to Joseph and while it sits on his shelf he was still terrified Johnny was going to say something bad about it or try and get rid of it (that’s happened once with an ex) but Johnny saw it, called it cute and then proceeded to look after it when Simon couldn’t

13) Johnny may not look it but he’s a bit of gardener. He’s got a windowsill full of herbs in the kitchen and their balcony has some random plants that he doesn’t actually know the name or origin of but he looks after them and has very specific instructions for Ghost to follow when he’s not around

14) Simon’s friends with the old guy that runs the convenience store down the street from their apartment and not because he tried to befriend the guy or anything, but because the guy thought Simon looked funny with his mask and decided he was going to favour him out of all of his customers

15) The neighbours tried hitting on Simon once and Johnny happened to open the door and heard them flirting with his boyfriend. He got so possessive that he made out with the bigger man against their door jamb for like 5 minutes until Simon pulled him inside. The news spread very quickly after that

16) The apartment complex have a betting pool going about what they do for a living because they hold such weird hours and will disappear for months at a time. None of them wanna ask the two though cause they’re all a little scared of the both of them

17) Simon’s a bookworm and if it weren’t for their tiny apartment he’d have his own, personal library filled to the brim with books

[jo-the-bass-stealer]

who do you need for a (fictional) rebellion?

I've been thinking about this a lot recently, given that my book series is about toppling. . . several monarchies. not quite sure how they're gonna do it yet. anyways.

so often I see posts/articles about how to write revolutionary leaders, but you need more than just a handful of angry people to enact meaningful change! here's a list of character archetypes I see all the time in stories centred around rebellions (in no particular order). you by no means need all of them. mix and match as you please.

a financier. this shit isn't gonna get done without funds.

spies. lots of spies. double agents, triple agents, people on the inside.

symbols for all the propaganda (this can be a person or something else, eg. your mockingjay).

someone who knows their way around the law to de-arrest folks and make sure no one gets caught out, etc.

demo mannnnn. or the swords guy depending on your story's setting (my demo man is a blacksmith).

the Really Angry Young Person (it's usually a teenage boy but obviously you can and should change it up) that's entirely devoted to the cause, willing to do anything.

not like, mandatory, but a character like saw guerrera from star wars comes to mind. specifically in andor, he says that as an anarchist, he's "the only one with clarity of purpose." kind of a blow stuff up now, form a government later kinda guy. basically you need some infighting.

ADMIN. you need someone organising all these madlads. who's reading all these 'emails'?

adding in my personal favourite of these archetypes: the guy that defects from the Institution to join the rebellion. possibly for homoerotic reasons. looking at you, agent kallus (from star wars rebels btw)

a tired older person who's seen far too much bloodshed in their life but is still fighting.

journalists/historians/documentarians/regular people with cameras (or the equivalent in your world), telling the world of the atrocities past and present. this bullet point is directly inspired by the people of gaza sharing the genocide happening there. free palestine, from the river to the sea.

the overlooked second-in-command that's kind of doing most of the actual work and keeping coalitions together n stuff.

the opposite of the spy: the traitor.

someone with charisma to convince people to join up. they're well-spoken and give rousing speeches. often, this person in actually the leader, but they don't have to be.

smaller groups within the rebellion that are probably constantly ignored by the higher-ups. will they break away and form their own movement? you decide.

add more if you can think of any!

[hamsterclaw]

hii! i just finished the vows and I really love it. love the mixture of smut, fluff, angst, and even comedy in it. the chemistry between yoongi who's patient and devoted husband and oc misunderstood yet sometimes really chaotic, is one of the best chemistry I've ever read. you've explained a lot of backstories of the couple, specifically oc through drabbles, yet you haven't really explained about her having a different name. like when yoongi brought her to the hospital after the allergic reaction and then found out that she actually has a different name. I wanna hear the backstory for it, and maybe the full reaction from yoongi, like him bringing it up again.

Ah the name thing — my take is this. It’s not the norm for them for a spouse to change their name when they get married and so Yoongi was surprised to find out reader had taken his surname.

His reaction under the cut!

Warnings: Sex, swearing, sulking Yoongi

Your husband is sulking, you’re sure of it.

It’s unlike him. He has a limited repertoire of emotions from indifferent to exasperated, and you’ve never seen him like this.

You’re getting changed into one of his old t-shirts, and he hasn’t so much as looked at your ass once.

You keep him in your peripheral vision as you smooth your hands over your ass, pretending to straighten your silky shorts, but he doesn’t even blink.

‘Yoongi, are you ok?’ you ask.

He’s staring into his section of the walk-in wardrobe you share, and he’s definitely not choosing what to wear because he only wears one of two t-shirts to sleep.

Oh shit, is that what the problem is? You’ve nicked his shirt?

You wander over to him.

‘Hey, you want this shirt back?’ you offer.

He flicks his gaze at you, gives your tits a cursory glance and shrugs.

You pull the t-shirt over your head to give him a better look.

‘Here, you have it. It looks better on you anyway.’

You’re bare underneath, and you see the flare of interest in his eyes before he looks away again, accepting the t-shirt.

He slips it over his head.

‘Thanks.’

You rifle through his t-shirts and pick one at random to wear.

Yoongi’s already in bed by the time you finish washing your face, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

‘Are you angry with me, Yoongi?’ you ask, perching on his side of the bed.

‘No,’ he mumbles, refusing to meet your gaze.

‘It seems like you are,’ you say.

He turns over, back to you. ‘I’m tired, are you going to turn the lights off?’

He sounds crankier than ever.

‘Sure,’ you say.

You get up and turn the lights off, trip over his slippers on the way back.

‘Shit!’

You sense movement in the dark, and a moment later Yoongi’s reaching for you.

‘Are you ok?’

You hit his side table with your head on the way down, but you think you’re all right.

‘I’m ok,’ you tell him cheerfully.

‘What was that bang?’ asks Yoongi.

‘Just my head.’

Yoongi curses. ‘Are you ok?’ he asks again. ‘I can’t see a thing.’

His hand finds your arm. ‘Let me have a look.’

You blink your eyes closed as he shines his phone light at you.

‘I’m fine, Yoongi, stop shining that thing at me!’ you complain.

He mutters something you don’t quite catch.

‘What was that?’ you ask.

You can’t see him rolling his eyes, but he definitely is. You can tell by the tone of his voice when he says, ‘Maybe the reason you keep forgetting to tell me things is because you keep hitting your head.’

You grab the front of his shirt.

‘Do we need to talk about something, Yoongi?’

Yoongi grumbles, ‘Just get into bed before you hit anything else.’

You climb in next to him, roll over the opposite end, shivering a little at the coolness of the sheets.

The bed’s so big you can starfish and still not touch your inexplicably grumpy husband.

Yoongi asks, ‘What are you doing?’

‘What do you care?’ you ask.

If your husband wants a fight, you’re more than willing to give him one.

He’s quiet, then he says, muffled, ‘your ass looks good in those shorts.’

‘Too bad you’re not getting near it tonight,’ you retort.

There’s the rustle of sheets, and a moment later your husband’s head hits your outstretched hand.

‘Why are you spread out like this?’ he asks.

You kick out your legs, and he huffs as your foot touches his.

‘What do you want, Yoongi?’ you ask.

‘I’m angry with you, but I want to fuck you.’

His bluntness startles a laugh out of you.

‘You should just say, I like angry sex too,’ you tell him.

Yoongi makes a sound very like a laugh that he quickly muffles.

‘Jagiya,’ he sighs.

‘Don’t jagiya me, Min Yoongi,’ you warn, rolling over into his arms.

He wraps an arm around your waist, buries his face in your neck, runs his hand over your hip, up the hem of his t-shirt, over your skin.

‘You make me so angry,’ he says, the gravel in his voice making your toes curl.

‘I always make you angry,’ you say, lips against his.

He turns his head a fraction, kisses you warm, deep. His hand’s stroking circles over your bare skin, inching up to touch your breasts.

‘Always,’ he agrees.

He cups a hand fully over your bare breast, and you shiver with delight as he thumbs your nipple.

He moves his hips, lets you feel how hard he is, nudging against you.

His lips are distracting you but you’re determined to finish your sentence. ‘Why are you always so mad at me, Yoongi?’

Yoongi’s busying himself pulling your t-shirt off, kissing a heated path down the valley between your breasts.

‘You make me crazy, jagiya,’ he mutters.

He runs his thumb over your nipple, follows it with a lash of his tongue. Rolls the pebbled flesh between his lips, sucks until you feel an answering pull, a tightness in your cunt.

‘Yoongi,’ you moan.

‘Shhh,’ he murmurs, popping off your nipple, soothing you with a lick.

The hand that was settled on the curve of your hip slides between your legs, against the strip of bunched cotton barely covering you now that you’re wet.

He hums, approving. ‘You like this, don’t you? You like me playing with these pretty tits, you always get so wet —-‘

He tugs his briefs down, nudges the blunt head of his cock against your slit, and the pressure of him against your panties makes you moan again.

‘Get inside, Yoongi,’ you plead, trying to push your panties off.

He touches along your folds, entering you shallowly with the tips of his fingers, teasing the pad of his thumb over your clit.

You cry out in frustration as he laps at your other nipple, rubs up over your clit.

‘Shit, I can feel you squeezing me,’ Yoongi taunts. ‘You want me?’

You’re fisting the sheets in frustration.

‘Yoongi please!’

Your maddening, infuriating husband has the audacity to smile.

He’s beautiful.

You want to punch him across his gorgeous face.

Instead, you ask, ‘Is this because I didn’t tell you I changed my name?’

There’s a flicker in his eyes that tells you that you’ve guessed correctly.

‘I’ve been L/N all my life, and it never meant a great deal to me,’ you say.

His hand stills between your legs, and his dark eyes are intent upon yours.

‘I thought taking your surname might give me a fresh start,’ you tell him.

It sounds stupid when you say it like that, naive.

You look away from Yoongi, curl a hand on his back. ‘Let’s get back to fucking,’ you say, unbearably self-conscious.

Yoongi’s still staring at you, you can feel the heat of his gaze.

Across the room at some social event, it gives you life to know your husband’s staring at you, usually with fury.

Here, in bed, where it’s just the two of you, it’s so searing and raw you can barely stand it.

Yoongi’s fingers curl under your chin, his thumb strokes your cheek, but he grants you the kindness of not forcing you to meet his eyes.

Instead, he tugs your panties down, enters you, sheathes himself to the hilt.

You let out a breath that’s halfway between a gasp and a moan.

You can’t help yourself, you sneak a glance at your husband.

You love when he looks like this, brow furrowed in concentration, eyes dark. He moves his hips in the way you love, and the drag of his cock inside you is exquisite.

Another moan spills from your lips, and Yoongi leans down, captures your lips with his.

‘You like this, jagiya?’

‘I like it,’ you say, breathless, and Yoongi kisses you again, intimate, slow.

‘Good, I want you to like it, you feel so good, fuck.’

He snaps his hips against yours, deep, slow, making you feel every inch of him, until your eyes are squeezed shut from the pleasure of it.

You come with a gasp of his name, and Yoongi breathes yours as he seeks his peak.

He curls his arms around you, tight, and seals his lips to yours as he comes.

Breathes you in.

Afterward, he reaches for his t-shirt, says, ‘put this on.’

He slips it over your head, grasps your hand against the cool sheets.

There’s quiet all around you now, no light save for the moon through the window.

‘Take it all,’ Yoongi says. He’s speaking softly, but his voice carries anyway.

‘You should take my name, my clothes, everything,’ he tells you.

You can’t see his face, even though it’s close to yours.

‘It’s all yours, jagiya.’

He seems to hesitate, an infinitesimal pause before he says, ‘all I have is yours. All of me is yours.’

You want to tease him about his phrasing but there’s a lump in your throat, and you can’t speak past it except to say his name.

Yoongi strokes his thumb over your hand, and his breathing slows, until you know he’s fallen asleep.