#and how sometimes even then those friendship end up getting a second chance

[bluesidez]

hiii love 💗 may I request a nsfw and a sfw alphabet thingy for gymrat miguel. I just need more of that man 😫😫

[Gym Rat Miguel SFW + NSFW Alphabet]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant 🩻

pairing: GymRat!Miguel O’Hara x Chubby!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, fem!Reader

summary: Me answering questions and yapping about Gym Rat Miguel!

content warning: 18+ for the NSFW portion so MINORS DNI, most importantly THERE ARE SOME SPOILERS FOR THE ACTUAL STORY (nothing too crazy, but some of the questions are things that haven’t happened yet + they haven’t even been together a year yet in the current story so there’s still much to discuss), lots of fluff, possibly the incorrect use of a fidget spinner?? (it's cute I swear)

word count: 9.1k, halfway proofread (sigh...)

a/n: Hi hii!! 🩵 You don’t know how happy I was to receive this request!! Any chances to talk about my Miguels outside of their actual stories are golden. 🥺 I tried to keep the responses brief so about 2+ paragraphs per question but we all know how much I like to write and yap 😭 so there's bound to be some long paragraphs. I do hope you enjoy!!! (This also gave me a chance to flesh out his character even more, which I appreciate more than you know, so truly, thank you Anon!)

I just refer to GR!Miguel as Miguel here because…we all know who I’m talking about.

A = Affection How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a really giant heart so he’s extremely affectionate especially when it comes to his girlfriend. Usually, boys are taught to kind of control their emotions, but even with those teachings/societal rules hanging over his head, he was always a sweet and kind baby growing up. His abuela especially taught him to lead with kindness. 

ᰔ ᩚ He shows affection often through action. While he’s really familiar with all of the love languages, he’s quicker to do something for someone (acts of service) before he does anything else. His second most used love language has to be words of affirmation. Words and communication are a sensitive thing for him so communication is key even if he can be oblivious about it sometimes. 

B = Best friend What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is definitely the "dad friend," or really, the "parent friend" that’s always making sure you’re ok. He knows how to parallel park and owns at least two of the ugliest ties you’ve ever seen in your life (thank you, George). He’s also EXTREMELY huggable, even in his tall and lanky days, and gives really nice advice. If you’re struggling with something, he would lay everything out and help you problem-solve. Overall, he’s just very sweet. 

ᰔ ᩚ For Miguel, a friendship could start with you constantly talking to (bugging) him or being able to keep up with his nerdy hobbies. You want to hear him sort out quantum physics? He’s sold. On the other end, anyone who is nice to him and treats him like a human has a fair game of becoming his friend.

C = Cuddles Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

ᰔ ᩚ Does he? He craves it! He will literally stop what he’s doing to find you just to cuddle. It’s like a way to regain his energy if you're in his arms. At the same time, he’s very comfortable despite all that hard muscle. At home, he usually wears soft sweaters and joggers so he is indeed like a giant teddy bear. The older he gets, the more his body gains a nice balance between fat and muscle so it’s just really comfortable all around.

ᰔ ᩚ When he cuddles, he’ll usually shove his face in some plush part of you. He definitely loves laying on your chest which he lovingly calls his pillows or your stomach or your lap. He’s really clingy. If you’re out and about, he'll cuddle you from behind with his chin on your head or keep an arm wrapped around your hips. When you ask for a cuddle, he’ll gladly hold you on top of him and probably fall asleep. 

D = Domestic Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

ᰔ ᩚ He wouldn’t mind settling down, but it depends more on how you feel rather than him. He’s heard many stories from his mother, Abuela, and tías about how hard childbirth is so he’s very wary of that pain being inflicted on you. His mother has told him multiple times about how giant he was when he was born so he’s scared that whatever baby he could give you might also be huge. After he learned of Tyler, Conchata told him that she wanted to cuss Tyler out, but all she had was George in the delivery room so he suffered her wrath not once, but twice. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has fantasized about you with his babies, but to his shame, it was more about the process of giving you his kids rather than having them run around. He has to admit, he would love to see chunky babies with a mix of you guys’ best qualities. One family reunion with you taking care of your baby cousins might put him in a spiral. He’s sure that you’ll be a great mama and he’s confident that he’ll be the best father. If that doesn’t work out, he’s aiming for tío of the year for the many nephews and nieces his brother is sure to have. 

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of domestic qualities, he’s spent so much time with his abuela that he knows more dishes than his mom. He’s also had times when his mom got sick of constantly cooking for him, so he’ll be up at the crack of dawn fixing his own meals. His cleaning could use a lot of work. He knows the basics, but his family always fusses at him to do more than that. In front of you? He becomes a new person. All of a sudden, he remembers the ways his mother fussed at him to clean the house.  

E = Ending If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

ᰔ ᩚ Even though emotionally he’s extremely mature, he’d probably be a wreck when it comes to breaking up with you. He loves very deeply and separating from you has a high chance of sending him to the ER. If he doesn’t pass out while breaking up, he’d definitely be extremely sick afterwards. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he had to break up with you, he’d do it face to face because anything else is an insult to you. It’ll be somewhere public enough that you’re free to walk away from, but private enough to where no one will be like “wtf is up with those two?” He'll write out what he wants to say a thousand times over and have his desk littered with notebook paper. In his ‘speech’ he’ll praise you heavily but say something along the lines of “even though you are my sun, I can’t continue to drain your light.” Just VERY dramatic and heartfelt. He’d probably be sick enough to puke after watching you go. 

[Good thing this will NEVER HAPPEN. Even I, the angst lover, can not take that torture.]

F = Fiance(e) How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is fully committed to you even without the ring. He is quite the planner, so as soon as he reaches the end of undergrad, he’s already planning out his proposal. Of course, he’s asked you how you feel about marriage and has peeked over your shoulder at your Pinterest boards so he has an idea of what you would like. However, he’s truly a romantic, so he’s pulling out all of the stops. 

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t feel the need to get married right away because you both have huge futures to explore, but damn it, he wants people to know that you’re taken, so maybe he’ll buy you a promise ring. He’s willing to wait until you both have stable jobs before making the huge step to marriage, but he fights the urge to propose to you constantly. He also spoils you like crazy and he wants to earn the money for your rings rather than asking his family for help.

G = Gentle How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is the definition of a Gentle Giant. Really, it’s something that first grew from his mom always fussing at him to be a big boy so as to not make Gabriel upset, but his Grandma has always been so kind to him because she felt that Conchata treated him differently than Gabriel. 

ᰔ ᩚ Physically, he’s always extra aware of his surroundings because now, not only is he tall, but he’s also wide. There’s a new strength to him that he learned to control after roughhousing with Gabriel got a little too rough, ending in a fractured wrist bone. Miguel was crying more than Gabriel on the way to the hospital. He ended up helping him in saxophone practice for weeks. For you, you’re like his personal weighted plushie. He’s not going to be too rough, just firm squeezes every now and then. 

ᰔ ᩚ Emotionally, he’s always careful of what he says to others. It takes A LOT for him to yell or blow a fuse. He knows how much words can hurt so he never wants what he says to be the reason that someone is hurt. He cries at the drop of a hat. He’s gotten better at not crying so easily, but he definitely can’t see people he cares about cry. That night that you sobbed in his arms, he cried a little with you then and a lot while you were in the shower. When you first got together, he feared that his tears might be the breaking point for you but every time he cries in front of you, you’re there to wipe them away. 

He’s definitely crying on your wedding day.

H = Hugs Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

ᰔ ᩚ He loves hugs, but he’s certain that his family is sick of his hugs. Just like how big dogs don’t realize how big they are when curling up somewhere, he is very similar when he goes to hug his closest family. His Abuela will often fuss about how he’s just a big baby and Gabriel sets a three-minute time limit, claiming that he’s going to transfer his body heat if he hugs past that. His dad is not really known for hugging and his mom gets irritated too fast. You are the only one who can stand his hugs that feel like they last a lifetime. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s hugs feel like really warm firm clouds. His waist is itty bitty so your arms can completely go around it but if you put your hands in other areas, he’s bound to start borderline purring. You’re a lot softer than him so he craves seeking you out for hugs. He likes to give them for any occasion: when you’re about to part, when you see each other for the first time in a while, when you finish a set, when you’re sad, when you’re happy, when you’re out shopping and are indecisive about which color of a product you should buy, when you’re taking too long in the art store, when you’re fresh out the shower, etc. He’s just a cuddle bug read: clingy boyfriend.

I = I love you How fast do they say the L-word?

ᰔ ᩚ [According to the story] Miguel calls you his love over the phone during Thanksgiving break which is about four months after knowing you and about three months into dating. He calls you his darling by the time the New Year comes around, he also won over your mom a little after Valentine’s, and he admits to himself that he’s falling in love by the time the spring semester has ended.

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t say he loves you out loud until the dinner party after everyone pisses him off which is roughly seven months into dating. However, all of his actions from the handwritten cards to the handmade crafts to the thoughtful gifts to the sweet words have all been signs of his growing love for you. Quite frankly, he would have told you he loved you sooner if he didn’t want to freak you out and he tells you so the night his mother demeans you.

J = Jealousy How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

ᰔ ᩚ You haven’t seen the extent of how jealous Miguel can get, truly, you just know of the couple of times he’s almost knocked people out or been completely rude to the people he’s thought were trying to lead you on when he was standing right there. He has shocked himself with how green he gets but it doesn’t stop him from feeling that way. When he gets jealous, he’ll find little ways to show others that you’re his such as PDA, lingering a bit too close to you, glaring directly at others whose eyes are planted on you for far too long, or getting really mean towards people who make advances.

ᰔ ᩚ Oddly enough, he’s never aware of the things that he does that attracts others because he’s so busy trying to be cordial that it may come off as flirty. It’s very hard for him to push people off him because that’s never really happened to him until he started bulking up and again, he doesn’t want to hurt people that haven’t hurt him.

K = Kisses What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s kisses are consuming and soft, warm and inviting. He gives you his full attention and pours his entire heart into it. The feeling of him against you only really leaves you wanting more, so you have to snap out of it and tell yourself to regain control. He could probably spend an entire day just in your face making out without ever going further, but he might need frequent trips to the bathroom to calm himself down. 

ᰔ ᩚ He likes to kiss you on your lips mostly but his other favorite places to kiss you are your stomach, your collarbones, and your thighs. He has to limit himself from leaving marks all over your skin because he’s keen to do it if you don’t stop him. He also likes to be kissed on the lips and he especially loves it when he doesn’t expect them. Surprise kisses have him on cloud 9 for the rest of the day. He really loves it when you won’t bother to reach up to him or lean him down and you settle on kissing him in the middle of his chest. It feels like your lips warm up his heartbeat. Lastly, he feels ignited when you leave kisses on his back, especially the back of his neck. To him, it’s like a promise for more or a way to ignite him. Start kissing his back and he’s not letting you leave him for at least 20 minutes. 

L = Little ones How are they around children?

ᰔ ᩚ Kids use him like a jungle gym. He is a fan favorite amongst his baby cousins who are always asking to be thrown in the air. He would think some babies would be afraid of him, but once they’re in his arms, they’re either really excited about how high off the ground they are or they’ll fall asleep instantly in his arms. 

ᰔ ᩚ He’ll often tire the babies and kiddos out and his family will find him in a pile with him as the pillow to little heads. 

ᰔ ᩚ Another key thing is that he won’t use baby voices with babies, but rather he’ll talk to them like normal human beings. It’s very useful when he has to break up fights between his baby cousins who often argue over who gets to play with him first.

M = Morning How are mornings spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Mornings with Miguel are more like Miguel going to do his workout while you sleep. You’re not really a morning person, so you’re a bit drowsy whenever he kisses you all over your face before he leaves. He always chuckles at your sleepy state and urges himself to not get distracted, but more often than not, he wants to stay with you. Some mornings, he’ll get right back in the bed with you after his shower and kiss you until you wake up. 

ᰔ ᩚ On the mornings that you do go with him to the gym, it’s mostly him talking with you humming along one-word answers until you’re actually fighting for your life in the gym. Afterwards, he always takes you to go get breakfast whether that’s a smoothie or him making you something. 

N = Night How are nights spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Nights with Miguel are very loving! If you let him, he’d do everything from shower with you to brushing teeth together to skincare to hair care and so on. Being that both introverts and creatives often work/operate better at night, sometimes you both are up at all times of night doing anything. You could be drawing on your iPad while he’s up playing games with your feet in his lap.  

ᰔ ᩚ Sometimes this is also when he lets his most intimate thoughts slip out. With his head on your chest and your nails scratching against his scalp, he’s in his most vulnerable state.

O = Open When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than revealing things about himself, all of his drama just happens to unfold for him. The way he brought up Tyler Stone, the super famous tech CEO, being his father just happened to be the time when you were doing something extremely serious. 

ᰔ ᩚ He can tell you things and open up about his past, but you never really grasp how serious it is until it appears before your eyes. His turmoil with Kron was 4+ years in the making and the first time you met Kron just so happened to be the time Miguel connected his fist to his face. His relationship with his mom is something that’s been an uphill battle and you haven’t really seen how bad it can get, but you’ve felt how cruel she could be. Tyler's yearning for a relationship with his youngest son is something you see happening in real-time. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is as open as he can be, but nothing ever really prepares you for the real deal.

P = Patience How easily angered are they?

ᰔ ᩚ It takes a lot to push Miguel’s buttons because he often lets things pile up and boil over. He’s not easily pushed to true anger until someone hurts the people he loves. One time, Gabriel kept coming home crying but he wouldn’t tell Miguel who was hurting him. Once Miguel found out, he ripped the kid a new one which led to Conchatta grounding him for a week. His Abuela was proud of him for standing up for his brother and Gabriel snuck him sweets when he thought their parents weren’t looking. 

ᰔ ᩚ He really wanted to say more to his mother that night she hurt you, but Kron took most of the brunt of that anger which helped him level out a more reasonable response to his mother. He doesn’t like seeing you hurt especially over things that he finds to be beautiful about you.

Q = Quizzes How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been taking in details about you ever since he first saw you in his Biology class. It was almost as if he was studying you. He knows your favorites, he remembers your friends, he listens to you constantly, and stores things for later. He even begins to know the subtle habits that you have. 

ᰔ ᩚ The only things that tend to go over his head are when you mention really advanced art techniques. As much as he tries, it never really sticks. He also conveniently forgets how often he asks for cuddles.

R = Remember What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a bank of lovely memories about you stored in his mind (and many more to come 😗). One of his favorite memories was when you went out of your way to make sure that those sorority girls got suspended. He often lets bad things happen to him until he can't control it, but you immediately caught the situation and nipped it in the bud right away. He’s never really had anyone do anything to that extent for him as fast as you did and even though he knew he wanted to pursue a relationship with you before, from that moment he knew that you were special.

ᰔ ᩚ Another memory is the last-minute birthday present that you got for him. It was so thoughtful and sweet and he’s constantly using it. The two of you were only at the sproutings of a relationship so to make such an impactful gift meant a lot.

S = Security How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s extremely protective. This means little things from making sure that he’s the one walking closer to the street and watching your drink while you’re dancing to big things like intervening when men don’t catch the hint to roughing up men that don’t respect your boundaries. He’s willing to use his brute strength in order to make sure no harm comes to you but he hopes it never has to get to that point. He’d rather use his strength to carry you in his arms. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel doesn’t really feel the need to be protected but when you go out of your way to protect him, he can’t help but think that it feels nice. Like, look at my girlfriend going out of her way to make sure that I’m alright, to make sure that I know that I deserve to be protected too. There’s really no other feeling like it to him.

T = Try How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel goes through so much effort for anything that involves you. He tends to go a little stir-crazy when planning. He marks up his calendar, sets appointments, makes calls, pulls certain strings: anything he can do to see a smile on your face. He remembers so many details about you just so he can pull together the perfect gift. With Tyler trying to get on his good side, he may or may not have asked him to help him out with things that are on the expensive side. 

ᰔ ᩚ However, there are things he does that does not involve so much money. Your cafe dates, your study dates in the library, your handmade gifts, and your nights riding around in his Range Rover getting late-night food. If you’re sick, he’ll bring you tea and make you soup. He’s there when you’re cramping, soft hoodie on and heating pad in hand. He waits for you after your art classes, ready to carry your portfolio across campus. He takes your glasses off when you fall asleep with them on and soaks your oil brushes when you’re in a rush. He cares about you deeply.

ᰔ ᩚ Your one-year anniversary is soon…what does Miguel have planned? 🤔

U = Ugly What would be some bad habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a nasty habit of overthinking. He often thinks too much for his own good, which is why exercising is so close to him as it forces him to focus on his form and his sets rather than the running hamster wheel of words in his mind. His overthinking could lead to imposter syndrome which in turn causes him to question whether or not he deserves the nice things he has, whether or not he deserves to be with you. With the big reveal of the man he’s known all of his life not actually being his dad, it really only dug a deeper hole into the habit he’s had ever since his mom’s different treatment of him versus Gabriel.

ᰔ ᩚ On the other end of the spectrum, he can be a bit of a perfectionist which can lead to stubbornness. Conchata has berated him all of his life, so at first, he felt the need to appeal to her good side as her son. The older he got, the more this turned into battles of proving her wrong. No, he wasn’t a bad influence on Gabriel. Yes, he could get all A’s and stay up playing video games. No, he wasn’t afraid to end up alone. Yes, he would try to go to some far-off college. 

ᰔ ᩚ His relationship with his mother is far from fixed, and there's no telling how these habits are to continue to affect his other relationships.

V = Vanity How concerned are they with their looks?

ᰔ ᩚ At first, Miguel would just own a few nice looks here and there. He’d only really care about the quality of his graphic tees, the softness of his sweaters, and trying to avoid high-water pants. Between his parents and his grandma, a lot of the clothes he got made him resemble a lanky old man. It wasn’t until he started to bulk up that his wardrobe took a change. His old tees could barely fit over his arms and the bigger ones got turned into crop tops to chill out in. His sweaters went to Gabriel who threw them in the deepest pits of his closet. 

ᰔ ᩚ Gabriel ended up styling him at one point which resulted in a lot of extra basketball shorts and god-awful t-shirt hoodies. If it weren’t for Dana and his older cousins telling him that he looked like an extra off of Jersey Shore, he would have never changed. He quietly asked Tyler for some kind of stylist which in turn helped him to find more clothes that fit his new body type. 

ᰔ ᩚ When you come around, you expand his style even more with your eye for detail and your insistence on having coordinating outfits. You know what looks good on him and with the way your eyes trail his body, he for sure knows what you think is hot.

W = Whole Would they feel incomplete without you?

ᰔ ᩚ Absolutely. 1000%. (More of this will play out a bit in Part 10…)

ᰔ ᩚ Obviously, in any Honeymoon stage of a relationship, the couple can feel extremely lonely without their other half. Miguel is an absolute yearner. He hates parting ways no matter how at ease he feels by himself. He never really thought of himself as someone who needs a partner, but now that he has you, he’s trying to juggle between knowing when to give you space and knowing when to impede your space. He feels a lot lighter when you’re around, a lot freer. Tackling college felt so foreign to him, but with you, he feels like he can conquer anything. 

ᰔ ᩚ If you were to ever leave this world before him, there would already be enough bits and pieces of you left to fill the half of his missing heart. The only thing is, he would miss your presence dearly and that radiant smile of yours. In his dreams would be the only place where he could feel whole again. X = Xtra A random headcanon for them.

I have three

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves PDA, but sometimes, you’re still a bit shy about it, so you found a compromise: a fidget ring. When he wants to love on you so bad that he can’t stand it, but you’re hyper-aware of the people around you, he’ll take your hand and just start spinning the ring. It’s your sign that he’s craving your touch. It doubles as a distraction when you’re in crowded spaces and his energy levels are low. You can tell when he’s ready to leave an event with the way he’s fidgeting with the ring. A slower tempo means he wants to exit a conversation, a faster tempo could mean he’s overwhelmed or nervous, and moving the entire ring around means he’s ready to go. It’s an effective system for communication between the two of you.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves, loves, LOVES girly pop music. It gives him so much energy during his workouts and what’s better is that they’re really catchy. He hasn’t gone out of his way to watch any of the music videos or learn the dances, but take him to a concert, and he’s bound to know the words. He also has a high chance of being put on the Jumbotron or being called up on stage which could lead to intense screams from others and an awkward dance from him. Gabriel has a stan account that he refuses to show his brother’s face on because he knows it’s bound to be his most popular post.

ᰔ ᩚ Even though he’s extremely book smart and intelligent, when it comes to you, the Himbo gene activates. One compliment from you, no matter how small it is, could have him grinning like a fool all day. Whatever it is you complimented him on will be brought to the forefront constantly. He’ll buy a horrid amount of cologne just because you said you liked the way he smelled that day. He’ll take pictures of himself at the same angle because you thought one photo of him was good enough to put as your phone background. He’ll get worked up with one touch in public from you, especially if you haven’t touched him all day that day. He might even do something that you mentioned off-handedly from a TikTok or a tweet like buy a t-shirt with your face on it or have the lights on his Range Rover doors reflect your name. Sometimes you have to tell him to cool it, but if you praise him for it, he’s going to keep doing it.

Y = Yuck What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

ᰔ ᩚ In general, Miguel doesn’t like when people aren’t direct. He’s not a mind reader so he prefers when people say exactly how they feel rather than beat around the bush. People have done that far too much with him so he gets irritated when he’s put in a situation where the other party is not being upfront with him. He also hates when people are bullies for no reason. He’s not here to figure out why someone is taking out their insecurities on others but he will put them in their place. 

ᰔ ᩚ He also severely hates when people interrupt his sets. If you see he’s using the machine and he’s in the zone, why are you bothering him? He likes to think that he gives off the energy of a determined Gym Bro but in reality, he just looks really hot racking up those weights. Either way, don’t fuck up his set.

ᰔ ᩚ In a partner, he wouldn’t want someone that disrespects his family. He knows it’s a little dysfunctional, but his partner has to be truly dedicated to him before they even think about complaining about his family. He also tends to like his partners on the thicker side. He’s for all bodies, but he prefers when his partner has something he can feel so he honestly wouldn’t like it if his partner was too much smaller than him. 

Z = Zzz What is a sleep habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel always needs to hold onto something when he sleeps. Whether that be the pillow, the comforter, or you, he needs something in his arms. It can make for a very hot bed so whenever you guys are going to sleep together or taking a nap, you make sure to have a fan right by the bed. More often than not, he’s sleeping without a shirt on.

ᰔ ᩚ One other habit is how he gets when he’s really sleepy. He gets a bit whiny and grabby with tears threatening to fall with how much he’s yawning. He’ll say things that he won’t remember the next day like how pretty you are or how much he loves you. He might talk in his sleep a bit before he’s completely out of it which makes for hilarious videos. Like this, his snores are a little louder and his face pressed against the pillow is super cute. 

ᰔ ᩚ In the morning time, when he doesn’t have a workout planned, he might have a little drool from how hard he slept. If you wake up before him, he’ll squint at the light and mumble about what time it is. 

[THE MAJORITY OF THIS SECTION CONTAINS THE TRUE SPOILERS]

A = Aftercare what they’re like after sex

ᰔ ᩚ During sex, he gets in a specific mindset similar to the one he has in the gym, so it might take him a minute or so to snap out of it. He’ll be so wrapped up in the pleasure of the moment that he’ll forget that he needs to stop and make sure that you’re ok. Once he’s back focused, he’ll wipe your body clean and massage the muscles he’s sure to have stretched out. After that, he’s in dire need of cuddles and kisses.

B = Body part their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

ᰔ ᩚ Other than his face, which he agrees is pretty hot, his favorite body part of his own might be his arms. He worked hard for them! He’s always shocked looking back at old pictures of himself, seeing how he’s nearly triple the size, and wondering who that guy is. He also thinks that the Stone side has blessed him greatly with his dick. He’s always been well-endowed. When you came into his life, he found a new great appreciation for his own thighs, although he’s still battling with the thought of you wanting to be choked in them.

ᰔ ᩚ For you, what part of you doesn’t he like? He couldn’t really choose if his life depended on it because there’s so much to love. However, there’s no better feeling than the weight of your ass and thighs against his lap. If you could use him as a chair constantly, he’ll never complain. It’s the perfect position for him to feel you up and plant his face right in your cleavage. If your back is to him while you’re on his lap, then his hands are immediately on your stomach. You used to hate it at first because he would just squeeze at it or tickle you constantly, but he really loves to place his hands on the warmest parts of you, and right under your stomach happens to be one of those zones. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he said he liked his forehead being pressed up against your stomach while he ate you out, you wouldn’t get mad, right?

C = Cum anything to do with cum, basically

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel hasn’t really talked about it with you but, he especially loves it when he marks you. You always look so pretty with him painted across his skin, and he has so much to give. When his dick is down your throat and you try your best to swallow all of him, he feels feverish when it spills out down your face. He can’t help but think about how gorgeous you look. When he’s fucking your thighs and it spills onto your skin he just wants to rub it in.

ᰔ ᩚ When he’s inside of you and it just won’t stop dripping out of you, it riles him up even more. You’re his and his alone.

D = Dirty secret pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

ᰔ ᩚ He does have a few! One of which is fantasizing about you riding him on the bench press bench while the other side of the gym is occupied. It’s so unlike him, and when the thought first passed his mind, he was so ashamed he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes for a day, nor use the bench press without getting lightheaded. Just the thought of you leaning over him blocking out the bright lights of the gym, sweat dripping onto him,  and watching your ass hit his skin in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors was enough to get him to plan out how to build out his gym in his future home. 

ᰔ ᩚ Another is the amount of times he’s gotten off to the thought of you before you were officially together. He told you about the wet dreams, but he didn’t tell you how bad it was. He’s not sure if he’s ever produced that much cum in his life. It’s a wonder he was able to hold steady conversations with you with how head-over-heels he was. He fantasized about the sounds you would make and tried to remember how your body felt against his from the little touches you gave him. He tried to hone it down because, god, that’s creepy, but you were so radiant that you never really escaped his mind.

E = Experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is what I deem as a “virgin slut.” He’s very inexperienced when it comes to love, relationships, and sex, but he knows too much by proxy.  Again, he’s the parent friend that’s always giving advice, so for the most part, he knows what and what not to do. He’s heard about the things that his friends have done and he’s wondered what experiencing it would be like with you.

ᰔ ᩚ Would you like this position? Would you want to try this with him? Does he want to know what this would feel like? While he feels a little embarrassed to be so inexperienced, he’s happy that you’re excited to share these new experiences with him.

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of sex and foreplay, he’s learning as he goes, going with what feels good and what you react well to. He’s constantly researching, remembering, and trying out new techniques. You’re his first, and if he has any say in it, his last, so he feels that there is plenty of time to get to a more experienced level.

F = Favorite position this goes without saying

ᰔ ᩚ Any position where your breasts are in his face is a position he’s happy in. There’s nothing like watching them bounce while you ride him within an inch of his life. He wants to look at them, he wants to put his mouth on them, he wants to suck them, he wants to bite them: just put them in his face.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel also really adores any position he can hold you in. He notices how excited your body gets when he’s balancing you in his arms while pounding away. You get so wet that he’s mesmerized. The tight feeling of both you around him and your shaking hands gripping his shoulders keeps him going. He really just wants to see every ounce of your body move with him.

ᰔ ᩚ Did he tell you that he wanted you to sit on his face today or did he forget to set his reminder? 

G = Goofy are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is very serious in the moment because nothing is funny about your pleasure. All the laughing and giggling will happen before he’s sinking into you. He’s very serious about watching your face and your body for anything new and familiar. Did you think something was funny before? Well, he’s making sure that you’re not laughing by the time he’s finished.

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than being goofy, he will ask you something out of left field in the middle of the moment if he feels that you two have something to work out.

H = Hair how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is not the hairiest but he also doesn’t not have hair. His friend waxed him for practice one time and he’s certain that he’ll never let her do that shit again. He keeps his face clean because he feels like growing out his facial hair makes him look scruffy, although you’d argue that he looks pretty cute. 

ᰔ ᩚ His happy trail does lead like a nice present to his gift that keeps giving. He will let you trim him from time to time and help him wax when the sun is getting too hot. 

I = Intimacy how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect

ᰔ ᩚ He is very intimate during the moment, especially during your first few times together. He’s always reassuring you and holding you close. His eyes never really leave your face when you’re pleasuring yourself or reaching your peak. He loves to talk into your skin and your ears. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he’s not grabbing onto you, he’s holding your hands and rocking into you. He’s kissing your wrists and your cheeks, wiping any tears away. Where you might not be able to speak, he’s asking yes or no questions, wiping your hair out of your face, and telling you to let go. 

J = Jack off masturbation headcanon

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s sessions usually take a lot, but since gaining a roommate, he can’t go all out like he usually does. He cums a lot so he usually has to put a towel down or waits until he gets into the shower to fully let go. He prefers to use both hands whether that means lifting his hips off the bed while he jerks or holding his dick in one hand while playing with his nipple in another. 

ᰔ ᩚ His sessions after you both get together were even messier, especially with you giving him new material. Voice recordings, polaroids, phone calls: all of it is being used for him to get off when you’re not near. 

ᰔ ᩚ Once, you called him in the middle of one and he was winded as ever. You recognized those breaths the instant he talked and brought him to the hilt with your voice alone. He fell a little more in love with you that day but panicked when you wanted to switch to FaceTime. 

ᰔ ᩚ His chest was….a mess, but you giggled at how cute he was anyway. 

K = Kink one or more of their kinks

ᰔ ᩚ Praise kink: Miguel loves to hear that he’s doing well. Please tell him that he’s doing well, he craves it. There’s definitely a reason that he needs to hear you urge him on, but your voice always sounds so good when you’re in his ear. Tell him how good he made you feel, tell him you’re proud of him, and maybe call him a good boyfriend and he’ll start trembling. 

ᰔ ᩚ Hair pulling: This is one that he didn’t know he had until you accidentally yanked his head too hard while trying to stop him from tickling your stomach with his breath. He kind of froze when the groan came out of him, leaving you staring at each other for about three minutes. Once he realized what happened, his face went beat red and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes for the rest of the night. You promised him it was ok, and tested out a little hair-pulling a few weeks later which he thoroughly enjoyed. He especially loves it when you pull his hair while he’s in between your legs. He cums almost instantly. 

ᰔ ᩚ Semi-public sex: There’s something about fooling around in “private” public areas that turns him on. On the balconies of hotel rooms, in private yacht pools, in dressing rooms, in his car: he just can’t wait until he’s in the bedroom, he needs you now. Are you both louder than you should be? Yep. Does he care? Not really. 

L = Location favorite places to do the do

ᰔ ᩚ Again, he loves semi-public sex, but he also really loves even more intimate places like on vacation in your hotel room or on your dorm bed when Jess isn’t in there. (Although you’ve told him many times that having sex in that open room could be rude. As a compromise, he brings you to his dorm and fucks you there instead. Peter can live.) He really wants to make love to you in his childhood bedroom (the room is full of him but he wants your scent in his sheets), but he knows his mom is far too nosy for that to even happen. He’s not even sure if he could make out with you without her coming in there to check on you two. 

M = Motivation what turns them on, gets them going

ᰔ ᩚ Honestly, you could probably just stand there and Miguel would conjure up a way to be turned on. Seriously though, it’s little things like seeing your midriff or hearing you call him baby in a different tone, especially if you’re doing something sexual, that gets him going. If you do something like extensive PDA (rubbing up against him, kissing him long enough to use tongue, dancing on him), wear clothes that show off your body, or when you stare at him while he’s doing his work.

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re wearing a dress that he can see your fupa through? Hard. When you’re doing jumping jacks next to him in the gym during his sets? Turned on. When you wear his clothes? Rock solid. When you take the initiative? Puddy. When you let others know that he’s yours? You might not make it to your destination without him touching you in some way.

N = No something they wouldn’t do, turn offs

ᰔ ᩚ He’s not into degradation AT ALL. He’s way too much of a gentle lover/boyfriend to ever put you on a lower level than him whether it’s supposed to be enjoyable or not. 

ᰔ ᩚ He is also not into pain specifically when it comes to giving it. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He might do a light smack every now and then but he can’t bring himself to inflict pain, especially if it bruises. The closest you might get to that is if he gets too carried away when pounding into you, and once it’s all over, he’ll feel like a dickhead. It takes him a while to realize that you don’t mind it when his skin is slapping against yours hard enough to sting later.

ᰔ ᩚ One last slight turn off is choking. He’s never going to be comfortable enough to wrap his hands around your neck. You’re determined to let his thighs squeeze you at least once, but if he hurts you by accident, he might do something incredibly drastic. 

O = Oral preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel O’Hara is a munch. Miguel Munch O’Hara. He could stay down there for hours. Being that the first time he ate you out he actually had you screaming, he would say that he’s pretty good at it. But! There’s always room for improvement. For example, he wants you to sit on him and he wants to heat you out while you’re sitting on his shoulders. He’s slowly, but surely, inching his way there.

ᰔ ᩚ He likes giving more than receiving mostly because he can’t look down at you giving him head without losing his mind. At least if he’s eating you out, he can keep going if he cums. If he cums while you’re swallowing him, he needs at least a minute or two to reset. Not to mention, the sounds your throat makes when you’re sucking him in makes him conflicted. You promise you like it, and he loves the feeling, but he’s still wary of fucking into your mouth and hurting you.

P = Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s pace is deep, slow, and sensual because he has to pace himself. If he’s wrapped up in you, he’s bound to forget about his own pleasure in place of making sure you’re feeling good, but once you get to sinking him in and squeezing so tight, he wants to hold that out as long as possible.

Q = Quickie their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ They seem nice. If only he could commit to them. Quickies often turn from 10 minutes to 20 minutes to way too long in a compromising position. Also, there’s way too much to clean up for what he does with you to be considered a quickie.

R = Risk are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ With you? He’s willing to try most things, although they’re mainly vanilla. Risks for him might lead to late night trips to CVS for a pregnancy test so it’s best that he researches and plans things out thoroughly. Right now, the most he might be eager to do is change up the positions and try not to touch you.

S = Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a lot of stamina! He’s not in the gym for shits and giggles. Still, to him, he has a lot of work to do in terms of going all night. Right now, he can last for about 2-3 rounds without breaking a sweat. If he focuses on you, he can extend that number to about 4 rounds. His refractory period is also pretty stellar if he must say so himself.

ᰔ ᩚ Now, whether or not you can keep up with him is to be determined. 

T = Toys do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been too scared to own a toy living in his mother’s home, so he’s never bought one. (How Gabriel got away with buying the most obscure things, he’ll never know) The only thing he has is the bottle of lube that he frequents and his extra sets of towels to cover his bed.

ᰔ ᩚ On you, he’s happy to try out whatever you’ve got. He was really fascinated with the mechanics of your rose toy, but he’s also determined to make you have the same reaction with just his mouth alone. What kind of boyfriend is he if he can’t make you forget about your tiny pieces of plastic?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s also interested in trying out different types of lube, but he’s got to research which ones are really worth it.

U = Unfair how much they like to tease

ᰔ ᩚ Open the dictionary, flip to the T section, slide down the pages until you find the word “tease,”  and you’ll see Miguel’s government name on the third definition of the word. He likes to claim that you’re a tease when really, he’s just a horny himbo. He knows what he’s doing when he sends you sweaty gym pictures. He knows what he’s doing when he dresses up all nice for you. He knows what he’s doing he’s all in your face in public, feening for a reaction out of you. He messes with you on purpose. 

ᰔ ᩚ Let this behavior make it to the bedroom and he’s either going to regret it once you take over OR he’s going to continue it until you’re coming apart in his arms. Teasing you always leads to great, great sex.

V = Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is loud as fuck. He has to cover his mouth when he’s alone in his room thinking about you. When he’s inside of you, if he’s not moaning into your mouth, he’s breathing heavy right in your ear or groaning loudly right into your shoulders. He’ll often be louder than you. If you’re moaning with him, he encourages you and sings right along with you. 

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re focusing on his pleasure, he’s hyper-aware of the sounds he makes so he tries to muffle them which leads to whimpers and whines. You love it when he gets this way.

W = Wild card a random headcanon for the character

ᰔ ᩚ Hip thrusts are a great exercise for the lower half of your body and should never be missed on leg day. They pinpoint the glutes, the abs, the hips, the hamstrings, the back, and the quads. With a steady added weight, anyone who is doing this exercise possibly is sure to grow those muscles greatly over time.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is never missing a chance to do hip thrusts because he is determined to fuck you this way. He can only imagine the shock on your face as he holds you up and pumps into you with a steady rhythm. 

ᰔ ᩚ He’s never missing leg day.

X = X-ray let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

ᰔ ᩚ He’s definitely a shower which is why his tiny little exercise shorts can get buck-eyed looks sometimes. The first time you saw him, you felt yourself panic a bit. But the weight in your mouth? Indescribable. 

ᰔ ᩚ To you, he’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. If you had to guess, he’s probably 8- 9 inches, but it doesn’t really matter when you’re watching him leak like a faucet. He curves so nicely and definitely feel the effect of it when he lands. Watching it twitch to life has given you more inspiration than you care to admit.

Y = Yearning how high is their sex drive?

ᰔ ᩚ It’s too high for his own good. He can switch like a light and be ready to go down in you within minutes. It’s that foggy himbo mindset and the fact that you’re his first girlfriend. There have been many times where he’s gotten distracted by just thinking about you and the things he wants to do. He riles himself up when researching techniques, so of course he’s ready to be in you at any time.

Z = Zzz how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

ᰔ ᩚ Once you’ve both settled down, he’s out like a log. Let’s be real, not only has he probably worked himself up, but you definitely knocked him out with how good you gave it to him. He uses all the stamina during sex and when it’s over, the energy just fizzles out. It’s funny because you would think you were supposed to be the one that’s barely holding on, but there he is, mumbling into your skin.

ᰔ ᩚ This is definitely the time to get really soft responses out of him: satisfied, pussy-whipped, and dozing off.

This was really fun! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

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[sansaorgana]

— THE FAVOURITE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — As Feyd-Rautha's favourite concubine, your position is threatened after his affair with Lady Margot.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Once again I couldn't help myself and created some twisted & toxic dynamic between Feyd and The Reader full of mind games and scheming lol 😏 Thank you @little-diable for "letting me" to write this story. 🌹 I reached out to her after getting this request since she has a similar (and amazing) fanfic – "Guilt".

WARNINGS — Reader is some sort of a slave/servant, harm to Lady Margot and her child mentioned, mentions of sexual activities including non/dub-con (no actual smut)

WORD COUNT — 3,520

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE FAVOURITE

Being Feyd-Rautha’s favourite concubine made your position on Giedi Prime secure. Coming from nothing and having no drop of noble blood flowing in your veins, you ended up with a luxurious bedroom and your own team of servants. Baron Harkonnen allowed this arrangement only because of the little agreement between you and him – you were to spy on his nephew and your servants were doing the job when you personally could not. The stench of schemes and lies surrounded the fortress like a thick fog.

So, when your lover didn’t come to you after his own birthday party – even though you were waiting for him all dressed up and prepared – you wanted to know why. Your servants came back to you quickly, bringing you the news of Feyd-Rautha spending the night in a guest wing. In the bedroom of Lady Margot Fenring, to be exact. A known Bene Gesserit sister.

Concubines had no right to be jealous. They knew their place. Noblemen couldn’t marry a random woman they favoured just because of some sort of affection or sentiment. They had to keep their options open in case a political union would be proposed. And apart from that, noblemen had their responsibilities when it came to the Bene Gesserit order and their own plans and schemes. You knew enough to have a feeling what Lady Margot wanted from Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. To secure his bloodline.

Concubines didn’t exist to secure bloodlines – unless the circumstances were desperate. But usually, concubines existed to bear bastards.

You tore your dress off of your body, removed the jewellery and let it fall down on the cold, black marble as it shattered. The servants watched with terror in their eyes as tiny pieces of gemstones scattered all over the floor. You told them all to leave but they were petrified. So you yelled, you gave an order. And only when you were left alone, you allowed yourself to lay on your bed and cry.

You had sacrificed nearly everything to be in this position. Losing the title of Feyd-Rautha’s favourite concubine meant death to you. You knew what he was doing to the toys he was getting bored of. In fact, you often encouraged those acts. Now, you had to face a threat of becoming the next tossed aside pet.

You were finishing your breakfast when Feyd entered your chambers without a word or a knock upon the doors. He was the only person allowed such entrance and all your servants stiffened at the sight of him, bowing their heads and taking a few steps back. You decided to ignore him as you were sipping on your beverage and staring at the large painting on the wall in front of you. It was a landscape from your homeplanet. Or rather, how it had used to look like before The Harkonnen invasion and occupation.

As a little girl, you had been taken with others to Giedi Prime and forced to become a servant. Your hair had been shaved, the back of your neck tattooed with a Harkonnen sigil like you were a slave. Slaves died like flies on this court. Befriending the young na-baron had been your only chance of survival. And once you both had been old enough, the friendship developed into a romance. But sometimes, when you were forgetting yourself – too drunk on your own influence these days – you would touch the back of your neck and trace the tattooed mark. You had long hair again, covering it from the world. But you knew it was there. You were only a servant that had been promoted because of a spoiled boy’s whim.

“I have news for you, pet,” Feyd-Rautha stood above you with a proud smirk, showing off his black teeth.

You continued to ignore him and it made the smile turn into a frown.

“What is it?” He asked but you still refused to lay your eyes on him.

“I know where you were last night,” you finally decided to address the matter as you lazily leaned back on the chair and looked up at his face. He snorted at you.

“Not the first time I spent a night with another woman. Having a title of my favourite whore means that you are one of many – not the only one,” he reminded you and your jaw clenched at his choice of words.

“Not every night is your birthday. And not every woman is a Bene Gesserit witch,” you stood up angrily. “And I am not a whore.”

“Concubine is only a nicer way to put it but you’re big enough to handle the truth, pet,” Feyd was angered, you could sense that. But he was still amused by your little tantrum.

“Leave us,” you ordered to the servants and they bowed down before walking out of the chambers as fast as possible.

“What do you expect me to say? That I’m sorry?” Feyd’s voice was full of contempt as he observed your pacing around with squinted eyes. “I am not tied to you by any word nor oath.”

“What did she want?” You asked him and he shut his mouth. “She wanted to secure the bloodline, did she not?”

Feyd did not say anything and that was an answer for you. You nodded and walked away to stand by the window and gaze upon the cityscape of Giedi Prime. 

“I didn’t have a choice. And I probably will never even see that child. They mean nothing to me and will never be recognised as my heir. What does it matter to you?” Feyd tried to explain himself awkwardly as he sat by the table and put his feet up on the surface in a careless manner.

“Did she use The Voice on you?” You turned around to look at him with a furrowed brow.

“Yes,” Feyd nodded, looking away. “Does it change anything?”

“It changes everything to me,” you approached him to stand behind and put your hands on his tense shoulders. “They keep using you. Your uncle all this time, now her. And you just shake it off and pretend it’s no big deal but it is, Feyd-Rautha. Have you ever been able to make your own decision? Even choosing me as your favourite had to be accepted by The Baron.”

“Don’t pretend to suddenly care about me,” Feyd barked at you. “You’re spying on me for him.”

“Because I have to,” you whispered.

“And I have to do some things, too, which makes us fair,” he shrugged his arms and you let your hands fall to your sides again. You watched him reach for an orange as he began to peel it slowly in silence.

He was right but it was not enough for you to know that he was right. You were still raging inside; filled with jealousy and betrayal even though you had no right to feel these things. Swiftly, you reached out for a short knife that Feyd always carried by his waist. He was so relaxed and trustful around you that his reflexes didn’t catch on your actions. 

You pressed the tip of the blade to the back of his neck, the exact same spot where your tattoo was.

“I wish I could mark you as my own, too,” you whispered and he only chuckled, not fearing the knife at all.

“Do it then, pet. If that brings you relief, that is,” he dared you. “The pain will be welcomed.”

“I can’t do it,” your hand shivered as you lowered it.

“Then don’t threaten me with empty promises,” Feyd barked as he turned around rapidly and grabbed your wrist. He twisted it painfully, making you drop the knife as you hissed out of pain. “I don’t belong to you,” he reminded, his voice cold and sharp. You winced at the pain shooting up your arm but refused to show weakness.

“And I don't belong to you either,” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and hurt you had been suppressing. “If I am to live here my whole life like a slave, kill me then.”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at each other with hatred and passion as the tension crackled between you two like electricity. Finally, Feyd released your wrist with a dismissive shove, his expression hardening into a mask of indifference.

"Fine," he spat. "I am to inherit Arrakis and you are not coming with me. Stay here and rot, find yourself a new Master or leave, I do not care," he informed you and left your chambers just like that.

You were still standing there, petrified, as you blinked a few times before the meaning of his words made sense to you. He was abandoning you… but you couldn’t blame him. You showed weakness of your jealousy and that was something concubines were not supposed to do. Instead of playing your cards right, you snapped. And now there was no turning back from that mistake.

Your privileges were not gone overnight but everyone could see that something was wrong. While Feyd-Rautha was preparing to leave for Arrakis, you were not preparing at all. Your servants were nervous since their position depended on your own. And you were trying to work on a plan to be back in your lover’s good favours.

But The Baron was quicker than that. He requested your presence a few days before his nephew’s departure. You expected a punishment but, surprisingly, he was not as angry as you thought him to be.

“You lost the grip,” he informed you in his raspy voice, taking a puff of his pipe.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” you bowed down, nervously; humiliated.

“I should get rid of you. I’ve heard my nephew granted you freedom but we both know you have nowhere to go anyway,” The Baron pointed out and you swallowed thickly at his words.

“If I was only given one more chance…” You dared to look up.

“That is what I want to grant you,” he nodded as your eyes widened. Baron Harkonnen was not known for being generous or forgiving. “You see, on Arrakis I will need a spy next to Feyd-Rautha. Someone I trust. And you… We’ve worked for quite a long time now. You have never disappointed me nor showed any sign of disloyalty towards me. Looking for someone new, especially for such an important task… It would not be advised. I need you on Arrakis with Feyd-Rautha,” The Baron pointed his chubby hand at you.

“I understand, my Lord. But… He does not want me there. Not as his concubine at least,” you looked down, ashamed that you had to admit it out loud.

“That boy will soon start missing you. But we can’t wait until then,” The Baron agreed. “Since he has carelessly given you freedom already and you’re no longer a servant, I can promote you, child,” The Baron hummed to himself as you tilted your head out of curiosity – Feyd-Rautha’s habit you had picked up from him a long time ago.

Because your whole life had been about being his companion. It was about mimicking his behaviour and learning how to make him happy. Now, when he was somehow gone from your daily life routine, it felt oddly empty and pointless. It was painful to realise that Feyd-Rautha was your reason to live and your position as his concubine defined not only your position on Giedi Prime but also your whole life and personality.

“You will be sent to Arrakis as The Fremen Expert,” The Baron informed you and you couldn’t help letting out a little laugh.

“The Fremen Expert, my Lord? I do know nothing of them and their customs,” you reminded him.

“And we do not care about them nor their customs. We want nothing but annihilation of their race. But what we also want… What we need… Is your presence on Arrakis. Feyd-Rautha will be informed that you must take part in every council, in every meeting; making decisions alongside his generals,” The Baron whispered and you straightened yourself, suddenly feeling a bolt of electricity going through your veins. From feeling like a beaten dog, you began to feel confidence and pride in your new role, even if the title was made up for The Baron’s scheming plan.

“Yes, my Lord,” you bowed down with all respect.

“Now, go, prepare yourself for the trip,” he dismissed you and you turned around to walk away with your head held high.

Feyd-Rautha kept avoiding you but those few times you saw him in the corridor, he was giving you hateful looks. He had to be not very pleased with his uncle’s decision. You gained the courage to finally talk to him in private when you were on the ship to Arrakis, locked together in space with nowhere to run. Forced to spend time together since the ship was not as huge as the Giedi Prime fortress.

You chose the nighttime for this. In the evenings he was more vulnerable – you had learnt that over the years spent by his side. You entered his room on the ship without any guard stopping you as they knew your role in this mission. The Baron had given them direct orders to never stop you when you were about to spy on the na-baron.

Feyd was not in the room yet, so you waited, sitting on the armchair and nervously playing with the rings on your fingers.

“What are you doing here?” You finally heard his raspy voice after the doors opened. Feyd walked inside, visibly irritated at the sight of you. “Congratulations, you’re a full-time spy now. What a promotion,” he sneered. “Still his puppet.”

“And you’re not? His puppet?” You sneered back. “How does it feel to not be able to get rid of your own concubine just because The Baron does not approve? I told you. You can’t even choose the whores for yourselves,” you stood up to approach him but he walked away.

“You’ve sealed your fate, pet. Once I become The Baron myself, I am going to kill you,” he ignored your presence and began undressing to change into his nighttime attire. As if you were only an air in the room but it also meant that he still felt comfortable around you and allowed himself to be vulnerable enough to step out of his armour and expose. He trusted you, still.

“It’s not like I’m that valuable to your uncle. If you killed me now, he would be frustrated. But he wouldn’t even punish you for that,” you shrugged your arms. “So why won’t you kill me now?” You teased as you raised your eyebrow at him.

“Come here,” Feyd ordered as he sat on the edge of his bed. 

You walked up to him, a little scared of what was inside his head at that moment but you tried not to show it. You had mastered the act of not showing fear around him already. He hated cowardice and vulnerability only inspired him to be even more cruel.

“Since I can’t get rid of you, there’s still use of you, is it not?” He smirked as he looked up at you. “Please me, pet,” he ordered.

“I am no longer your concubine,” you pointed out, trying to keep a poker face on and a straight back. The truth was, you missed him. You missed his touch, you missed the intimacy, you missed how safe you felt with his arms around you. You missed the nights when he would fall asleep in your bed. But you couldn’t fall back so easily. He liked to chase, he liked to play. And you had gotten the title of his favourite because you knew how to provide it. “You dismissed me. I am The Fremen Expert now,” you added and he laughed contemptuously.

“The Fremen Expert, and what is that exactly, my little one?” He teased, pulling you closer by your waist. “And what do you know of these savages? You’ve been trained in different arts.”

“What sort of arts, na-baron?” You asked, placing your fingers on his muscular shoulders to keep steady on your feet.

“Pleasure,” he sat you down on his lap and you joined your hands together behind his neck. “I missed your cunt,” he whispered into your ear, his fingers pulled on the fabric of your dress around your hips, exposing your thighs.

“You forget yourself, my Lord,” you teased with a smirk as he looked up, questioningly. “You see, in your anger, you set me free. You released me and I am no longer your servant. I am my own person now,” you reminded him.

“I am still your lord na-baron,” he reminded you. “And I shall do as I please with you.”

“But having me back in your bed will cost you. I am not free of charge anymore,” you stopped his hands and watched his expression carefully. His jaw clenched and his gaze hardened with anger and curiosity.

“What do you want?” He asked harshly.

“Depends on how much you are willing to pay to feel my sweet cunt again,” you tilted your head.

You knew that it was just a game and he knew it, too. Because he didn’t need your permission. Feyd-Rautha didn’t care if you were his servant or a free woman now. He didn’t care if you gave him your permission or not. He was free to take what he wanted. Because that was his nature and that was the harsh reality of The Harkonnens.

“You want money?” Feyd could not hide the sheer disappointment in his voice. He had thought better of you. But you only laughed at his accusation.

You needed to take a deep breath in to say out loud what you wanted. It required lots of bravery for a woman in your position to say.

“I want to bear your heir,” you told him.

“Impossible,” Feyd pushed you aside on the mattress as he moved away from you. “Is it part of his plan?”

“He doesn’t know. He would kill me if he knew,” you assured him, truthfully. “He wants you for Princess Irulan, I think.”

“He mentioned to me he would make me an Emperor. But he didn’t mention how. I don’t think I have to marry her. We are strong enough to just take the throne with force,” Feyd told you. “I don't want her. But you cannot bear me heirs. Only bastards. Is that what you want? To push out my bastards?” He asked as he hovered over you to intimidate you, looking intensely into your eyes.

“Bastards, then. Let it be,” you nodded, swallowing thickly, confusing him. “I’d rather give you bastards and live on crumbs than to be dismissed like in the past few weeks.”

Suddenly, his face softened, confusing you as much as you were confusing him. Feyd caressed your cheek with gentleness that was unusual for him.

“Do you know why you are my favourite?” He asked in a whisper.

“Because I know how to play the way you like it,” you answered.

“No,” he shook his head. “Because you actually like me.”

You didn’t know what to say to this confession. It caught you off guard, surely. And Feyd leaning in to place a kiss upon your lips – a soft, delicate kiss that you had only shared a few times before – that only intensified the feeling of confusion.

“It’s cute to see you jealous, pet,” he breathed out after breaking the unusual kiss. “I swore to myself a long time ago I would never marry even if he forced me to. And my only heirs will be the bastards you bear me.”

You felt warmth in your cheeks at his words. Realising that what you had been asking for did not have to be said out loud. For him it had been obvious for a long time. It was the only way for Feyd-Rautha and you were a fool to ever feel jealous.

“All you have to do,” he added in a mysterious whisper, leaning in to steal another kiss, “is to help me with bringing him down.”

“You fool,” you giggled and cupped his face delicately, confusing him. “It has always been my plan,” you assured him. “And once I have the power of The Emperor’s Concubine, I will hunt down the Bene Gesserit witch and her spawn for I am the only one who shall bear your bastards.”

“You were such an innocent child when you came to Giedi Prime,” Feyd sighed but not without an excited sparkle in his cold eyes. “And look what a monster I have made of you, pet.”

You chuckled at that, relieved to have him back and much more than that – already planning out a future that was even more promising than in your most secret daydreams.

“You taught me well, Master,” you only said and pulled him back down. “But next time you put a child in another woman, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to father any more,” you threatened sweetly before a passionate kiss.

MASTERLIST

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap six/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

I Don’t Know You, But I Want To

summary: Sometimes curiosity has consequences.

wc: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters, mentions of death, hints on how Steve’s wife died, bouts of self consciousnesses.

authors note: sorry guys, you knew this chapter had to happen. i promise i’ll make up for it! enjoy a few more easter eggs from @carolmunson ‘s orange colored sky in here. I’ve had so much fun talking about these two old men’s friendship with you!

🌇 <- chapter five -> chapter seven

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

End of June

You didn’t realize when Steve asked you to water his plants, that he meant in just three short days after the almost kiss in his kitchen. The opposite schedules the two of you seem to always work made it so you hardly got a glimpse of him before he and Bandit disappeared to Starved Rock for what you learned was their annual camping trip.

The Good Morning Tough Girl texts started the next day after your number exchange, waking you up with a kaleidoscope of butterflies twisting and turning in your stomach and a smile so big it made your cheeks hurt. It helped you get over only getting to physically see him one time through your living room window before he left. Your phone had vibrated at your feet while you watered your now flourishing Ivy thanks to the new curtains you were proud to say were installed by yourself. You chanced a glance down at your lit up screen, his name flashing with a text that said: How’d I never realize how pretty my view is from the front yard?

The corners of your mouth twitched, flames licking underneath your cheeks when your eyes caught his out your window. The big dopey smile that took over his face made you giggle as he waved eagerly, dressed nice like he had been the morning you ran into him last week. You wiggled your fingers, biting your bottom lip at the way his dark navy button up looked tucked into the waist of his black slacks. The leather belt looked nicer than the last one, the silver of the buckle blinding in the setting sun. His hair was freshly done, free of any signs of those big hands of his. The stubble on his jaw was gone again, but you learned that was never for very long. 

Another buzz: Going to dinner with a client, wish it was fish tacos with you instead.

Steve feels like he won the lottery when he can see the way your face lights up from his spot in his front yard. Eddie’s voice rings loudly inside his head, sticking to every single one of his negative thoughts like glue telling him it’s okay and he finally starts to believe it, especially when he gets a text back from you.

Maybe next time 😉

It’s thunderstorming the day you go over, the key tucked away in a lockbox by his door. He gave you access by texting the code the night before with a promise to take you to dinner as a thank you when he got back. The nerves that dance inside you feel like they did the first time you came here when you stand in front of the stained glass of his front door even though he’s five hours away. 

It’s quiet, the lively energy from a few nights ago gone with the man. The cedar of his candle still lingers thick in the air and you can’t help but inhale deeply. It smells like him. You leave your shoes and umbrella on his front porch, closing the door gently like you were scared to wake someone up. The pattering of the rain on his windows fills the silence, your shoulders dropping in the serenity. Pulling your phone from your back pocket you look through your texts with the list of the rooms the plants were in. 

Only three — his office and living room on the first floor and his bedroom on the second.  

The coffee white oak floors creak under your socked feet as you take your first apprehensive steps past the entryway. He left the watering can on the kitchen island just like he said he would, your skin pebbles when you’re brought back to the last time you were in here. The sun fights to shine through the thick storm clouds outside, making the lighting that bleeds through his windows soften everything up. The water from the sink hits the metal of the can, mixing perfectly with the rain. 

You wish he was here.

The can is heavy in your hands when you stop at the doorway of the living room, the contents inside sloshing around and daring to spill onto his floor. You curse under your breath with a pause to take in the room you only got a glimpse of before. There’s an electric fireplace, tall black steel that takes up most of the wall next to the sliding glass door that leads to his small backyard. 

Two large beige area rugs cover most of the wood floors in here, a cream frayed trim lining them. Bandit’s bed sits big, fluffy and dark brown nestled by the fireplace, giving him a perfect view out the window. Strands of his lighter hairs leave behind evidence that this might be his favorite spot in the house. A woven basket filled with various chew toys that look freshly tossed in isn’t very far from it. The rain comes down harder but you can still see the spots of lime green littering the grass where the rambunctious German shepherd left his tennis balls. Spoiled.

The cognac color of his leather couch set is rich, and it shines even in the dim lighting like it was freshly lotioned. It looks like the kind of comfortable where the cushions mold against the weight of your body - soft, inviting, the one in the middle looking a little more worn in than the rest. This must be Steve’s favorite spot. 

Your eyes meet the 65” TV mounted to the wall in front of it and realize why. The coffee table matches the dark color of the floors. The candle that was the culprit for the smell of his house sitting in the middle next to three remotes lined perfectly next to each other.

There’s a long, taller companion table that sits at the other doorway that leads back out to the landing of his staircase. Framed pictures, bottles of various liquors of all shades and crystal cocktail glasses cover the top of it. 

What does he think of your place?

You try to push the intrusive thought down as you make your way to the lush Monstera plant that sits in a white pot on top of wooden legs next to the sliding glass door. Its leaves hang heavy, clearly taken care of. The deep emerald of it reminds you of what Steve’s eyes look like sometimes. The soil takes what you give it greedily, barely leaving enough for the few smaller plants that rest on shadow shelves along his gray walls. A few of them make you stand on your tiptoes to reach.

Curiosity wins on your way to refill the can, crossing the room to look at the framed pictures. You aren’t surprised when you see one of Eddie and Bandit as a puppy, it looks like the first day they brought him home. Eddie’s dimples show in a bright smile as he looks at the camera with Bandit’s big bubble gum pink tongue pressed sloppily against a clean shaven cheek.

The other is of Steve and a curly haired boy at a college graduation, they both look like they were caught in the middle of laughing at something. You can’t help your own smile when you look at it. Steve looks a little younger, a little less gray in his hair like it had only just started. He’s wearing wire rim glasses, and that crisp white dress shirt you like him in so much. He looks happy.

The last one is of Steve and Bandit. A selfie taken at sunrise, Bandits tongue sticks out and you swear he’s smiling just like his handsome owner that has him pulled against his side. A part of a tent peaks over his shoulder and you wonder if this is where they’re at right now.

You’re hit with the smell of his cologne when you open his office door, your thighs pressing together when you imagine him sitting in the big black leather chair behind an even bigger, matching colored desk. Glass cased baseball memorabilia takes space on one of his walls, along with plaques of achievements from his job. There’s framed pictures of him shaking hands of baseball players you couldn’t name, but you’re sure a normal person who liked sports could. There’s a tall bookshelf on the other side of the room. The spines all glossed, bright bold wording of sports memoir’s, marketing guides, and what looks like college course advertising books.

The floor of this room is carpeted with the same color as the area rugs in his living room. Your footsteps are a little more careful as you try not to spill any water on it as you make your way to the three hanging spider plants in the window that overlooks his front yard. 

Your nose catches a hint of the cigars you know he smokes as you get closer to his desk. He must keep them in here. A silver closed MacBook sits on top of it, another baseball — only this one is signed and kept safe in a glass case. There's a Polaroid of Bandit with a cubs hat on his head with a laughing Peach barely visible behind him. The obvious closeness of the three of them makes you realize how much he let you into his world the other night. 

A world where he wanted to kiss you.

You curse under your breath when you almost spill water on the carpet, too lost in realization of what this could be.

When you reach your final destination on the second floor, you stop at his closed door. Your hand hovers over the knob, heart hammering so hard in your chest like he was waiting for you on the other side. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you exhale through your lips - willing your nerves to give you mercy. There’s a soft click when you turn the knob and the quietest noise from the hinges when you push it open.

The crisp white of his fluffy duvet that covers his king size bed, mutes the gray of his walls. The olive green throw at the end of it that matches the area rug under the bed, the warmth of the color relaxes your senses. Your breathing evens out, your heart rate slows down. 

There’s another dog bed at the foot of his that matches the one downstairs and you wonder how often Bandit really sleeps in this one at night. The lack of hair on it compared to the other one tells you not very often. Your cheeks tingle fiercely when you see the mirror you got a glimpse of his bare chest through, your eyes quickly finding the bathroom he had come out of. 

“Jesus Christ,” you grumble to yourself, trying to push back the memory while standing alone in his bedroom. 

There’s another Monstera by his window that you can see your bedroom out of. The last one on the list. You have to pass by another large dresser on your way, even more pictures sit on top of it, taking up the space that was left next to a cherry wood watch box. Another cedar candle sits behind the framed pictures, the scent lingering in the air despite not being lit.

The plants take what’s left in the watering can, and you peek out the window just to see what he sees. The navy curtains you’d hung up are half open giving you a perfect glimpse into your room, the pile of dirty laundry you plan to do after this perfectly visible. You gulp audibly.

The can swings loosely in your hand when you walk to the dresser, a smirk already forming on your lips at the thought of what these ones will tell you about him. Your eyes land on one of him in between Eddie and Peach on what seems to be their wedding day, both of them placing sloppy kisses on either cheek. The big dopey grin face doesn’t hide the tear stains. The White Chapel sign behind them tells you it’s Vegas, and the way Steve is dressed as a much sexier Elvis only confirms your suspicions. 

Next to that one is a picture of Steve, only he looks really young- fresh out of high school young. Biting your lip into a smile at the volume of his hair, he’s leaning against a maroon BMW with pants so tight you're sure they made all the girls flustered. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes before taking in the brown curly haired girl sticking her head out of the back seat window. Another girl with honey waves pushing her head out in the small space next to her, you swear you can hear the giggles that are so evident on their faces.

Thunder cracks loudly outside, bringing you back with a jump. You’re dreading the short walk home. You glance out the window wearily before bringing your attention back to the little bit of Steve scattered over the top of his dresser. Then you see it. You see her.

The frame that holds the picture is silver, the words ‘always and forever’ etched across the bottom. It’s taken somewhere tropical and Steve looks like he’s your age in it, his jaw somehow sharper, his hair blonder. His smile is so big it shows all of his teeth, a bright yellow short sleeve button up that makes his skin look golden. The top two buttons undone revealing the chest hair you’d gotten a few glimpses of. He’s glowing. 

She’s just as beautiful, big bright green eyes and dark chestnut hair that falls in effortless curls down to her chest. They look natural, like she didn’t have to do it herself. She’s tucked into his side in what looks like seats in the back of a boat, the coral dress that flows over the curves of her body makes your stomach turn. The big rock on her hand rested purposefully on his chest tells you exactly what this picture is.  

Jealousy twists green in a tight knot inside of you, guilt you weren’t expecting makes you feel nauseous when you see what’s hanging off the corner of the frame. A dark teal rubber bracelet with the words Team ALS Chicago 2022 in white font.

Lightning flashes white hot, making something gleam and catch in the corner of your eye from his watch box. Taking a closer look, the tightening of your chest at what you find makes the air leave your lungs all at once when you see their wedding rings tucked in between the soft white cushions inside the box. 

The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. Steve had a whole life before he met you. A life with someone beautiful, someone he didn’t fall out of love with, someone who didn’t break his heart, someone who, if things were different he’d still be with.

If you moved next door in that reality, you’d just be someone he’d maybe wave to from time to time, not paying any mind to the thirty year old girl already suffering through a midlife crisis next door. The girl who moved to the city with no friends and no plan. The college drop out. The opposite of the well put together woman that belonged hanging off his chest like that, with a ring on her finger that could pay off your credit card debt and then some.

How can you compete with a ghost? The nagging feeling that you’ll always be second best already stings and he hasn’t even picked you yet.

You try to blink away the tears that threaten to spill out, feeling stupid for being this upset over what started off as a silly crush, it really shouldn’t hurt this much. The cedar that comforted you feels like it's suffocating now. Like he’s here. The thought of bringing the watering can down doesn’t even cross your mind when you leave it on the dresser to make your escape.

The breath that comes out through trembling lips is shaky, still, you're proud of the fact that you haven’t cried yet. 

Tough girl. 

When you open the front door, it's windier than when you first got here, the sun starting its disappearing act for the moon. It makes the summer storm match the one brewing inside of you. You shove your feet into your shoes before pulling the door shut behind you. You lock the key back into the box, before grabbing your umbrella. Your vision goes blurry but you don’t give into it, telling yourself it’s stupid to be so upset. The buzz of your phone in your back pocket is what stops you from taking the first step off his porch. 

Steve

Found a spot with some service on our hike, just wanted to check in. Hope you got into the house okay. Bandit says he misses you.

The dam that you’d worked so hard to build breaks, tears falling down your face like the rain falling from the sky. You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand before you reply to him for what you tell yourself is the last time. It’ll hurt less like this, it’s better for both of you this way. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself before you hit send.

Plants are watered 👍

beta’d by: @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

chapter seven

[eskymoos]

Levi Ackerman X Reader

          Older grumpy x younger sunshine

              How I think Levi would treat a young scout who reminds him painfully much of Furlan/Isabel.

The beginning of your professional relationship began when he watched you undergo the ODM gear tests. You were physically strong and he made a mental note of that. You hung upside down with ease and zipped through the trees as if it were your second nature. In a way, you surpassed the diligence his younger self had.

When he learned that you were interested in scientific research as much as Hange, he imagined how chaotic things would turn out. Unlike Hange, you weren’t used to working in loud, overcrowded spaces so you rarely had the chance to get you work done on time. Levi reluctantly offered you to use his office. Whenever he was out or at a meeting, he’d hand you his keys and you could lock yourself in the room to focus. It was all yours. He wasn’t used to open kindness but this was an exception for you. The next morning you would thank him by leaving cookies on his desk.

He never had enough time to learn how to write so he copied some parts of your handwriting to fix his. It would take a long time before you realized he wrote his j’s and g’s the same way as you.

One time you came back from an expedition with many bruises and injuries all over your body and the doctor failed to cover them up so Levi did it instead. He prohibited you from seeing that doctor again.

When you had first been given your cape as an article of your uniform, you noticed a dark stain in the back of it. It wouldn't come off even with hours of scrubbing. It bothered you so much that you borrowed one of Levi’s spare capes, thinking he wouldn’t say anything. He did notice but never told you. You never gave it back.

You and Hange were the only ones he would ask for favors. Time proved that he wasn’t exactly fond of making friendships or getting attached but you two had a special spot in his heart. Sometimes when he was too tired and buried in his work he would call for you and ask you to make his tea. Even when you did not make it exactly the way he liked it, he always drank the entire thing.

As a young person, you were bound to falling in love and crushing on other scouts and cadets. Levi was the one who regulated your desires and professional life. When you got too carried away because of someone, he would yank your hair back and discipline you the way he always did. He cared about your wellbeing enough to know that those feelings would only hurt you.

When you grew up a bit more, his trust for you also grew. He even allowed himself to let loose at times. Sometimes during training you would try to race him to the other side of the forest to see who could strike more targets. Levi was nonchalant about that habitual game of yours and even let you win a couple times just to catch a glimpse of your shit-eating smile.

You could have faith in him when it came to hairstyles. He did his own hair throughout his whole life and knew exactly how to work with scissors. When you wanted your ends trimmed, you would go to him and he would do it swiftly and cleanly. He was secretly grateful you trusted him so much. It was mutual.

[writingquestionsanswered]

i'm currently trying to write a story with second chance trope. the story is about a friend group since childhood of 2 girls and 4 boys. the female mc and the male mc were developing feelings for each other, then the male mc left the country without telling anyone. after 3 years of no contact, he comes back. naturally, the female mc has a lot of pent up resentment towards him but she still has romantic feelings for him.

so, any tips on writing a second chance romance?

Second Chance Romance

There are five really important keys to writing a good second chance romance:

1 - Create a Sense of What Was - Even if the story starts after that first relationship (or almost relationship) ended, it's important to give the reader a sense of what that relationship was like. What drew them to one another initially? What were their interactions like? What strengthened their bond? You can paint this picture using a combination of flashbacks, memories recalled in exposition, memories recalled in dialogue, having the character look at photos or video, comparing present experiences with past ones, or even through snippets in dreams.

2 - Be Clear About What Went Wrong - The reader can't root for a second chance if they don't understand what went wrong the first time around. Specific to your story, you'll need to address not only why this character suddenly left the country without telling anyone and without contact, but how they rationalized the negative impact it would have on this person they were beginning to develop a relationship with.

3 - Be Clear About What Went Right - Sometimes relationships fail, even if their foundations are good, but that second go round isn't plausible unless there was something worth going back to. So, not only is it important to be clear about what was good about the relationship when you illustrate it in retrospect, you'll also have to show us those things are still there--or have the potential to be.

4 - Illustrate What Changed - The relationship failed for a reason. Whether there was hurt involved, poor timing, wanting different things, or some other obstacle to progress. So, you can't give this couple a plausible shot at a second chance unless you show us how the obstacles were removed or overcome. In the case of your story specifically, not only will you need to address why the character left in the first place, but why they chose to come home, and how they make amends for disappearing without notice or contact.

5 - Rebuild Relationship Upon Old and New - I like to think of it like this: imagine the concrete slab foundation of a house. This is what the couple built together in round one. But when they parted, the foundation was damaged in places (the amount of damage obviously depends on what caused the split.) When they meet up again, the foundation is still there, it's just got the old damaged parts and a lot of erosion from time and weathering. But it's there. So as they work through what went wrong and patch up their friendship, they patch up the damage from their split. Then, as they get to know each other again and the friendship reestablishes itself, the foundation gets cleaned back up and brought back up to pristine. And from there, they can build the walls of their healthy relationship.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[sideysvault]

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִInnocuous Games ִ ་༘࿐

Pairing: Roman Roy x fem!reader

Wc: 2,030k

Tags: [sfw] Mentions of mature themes, sexual innuendo, slightly toxic relationship, friends with benefits, angst with fluffy ending.

────────

Once, they only slept together once. Friends for eight years, and it was all tainted by those unstoppable fleeting passions.

The two of them, alone, lonely, drunk. The bathroom of the rented villa was excessively decorated, and the warm crystal lights seemed to swallow the room whole. The thought had crossed her mind before, of course. Numerous times.

And God knew that the November slip did not count as sex. It was so chaste that even the most religious among us would not be able to classify it as a sin.

The second time, in her apartment late in the afternoon, which he usually preferred to sleep in, with the poor excuse that his driver lived closer and that he liked the New York transplant decorations. There had been a little too much champagne; and they fell off the sofa laughing a few times too many; and they had wound up on the floor; and the next thing they knew was that their hands were already all over each other. An innocent, comprehensible mistake. One that was ended by the sudden need of the man to put space between them.

But then it happened again. And again, and again. And eight years of friendship were ruined by the irremissible stain that mutual masturbation and strange sexual encounters left behind.

The both of them knew it was a bad idea, that it would only end with poorly said excuses and the broken pieces of their bond. But it wasn’t enough. It never is, is it? And the worst part of it all was that it wasn’t a matter of fleeting -albeit strong- desire for pulp contact. The woman felt that being just his friend was not enough anymore. Needing him far beyond the realms of which she could obtain. She needed him like a mean, neglected child begging for love.

The late nights at his apartment, the whispered secrets and the allusive but always earnest sweetness that he sometimes gave her would never be enough. Because even in that bathroom, with its dim lights and its artificial scents she was already convinced: If he dared to ask, the woman would give herself completely. Two broken pieces coming together.

All she could think about, between the lascivious eyes and the contained gasps, was how his hair would look in the early mornings, how would his coffee taste in the afternoons, and how words of tender love would roll out his tongue. A life with Roman.

——

It had been your best kept secret. A buried and shameful desire you had inexplicably felt since the day you had met him. And now that the line had been crossed, it roamed unleashed between the air that filled the space between you two. It deeply sadden you, being so close to what you desire, knowing that at best you’d only receive his strange patterns of affection and subtextual love. The realization only deepened with every encounter you had with Roman. And it began burbling and burning inside you. Making waves, twisting itself, and unwinding just enough to let you breathe.

The only way to erase the feeling was to drown it with other casual relationships with boring men. The latest provider of stability was a retired Florida lobbyist who wanted to take his chance in the Manhattan real estate scene.

And there you were. In your thirties, proclaiming your love to the brocker to anyone who’d listen, humiliating yourself and playing high school games in hopes that Roman would hear the news. You hoped that he’d finally push you away in a fit of rage and jealousy, that he’d say something hurtful enough to get you out of your torturous enamourment. Or maybe that he’d act indifferent enough for you to finally realize that you’d been nothing but a victim of imaginary romantic affections.

Your brain was working hard to convince its heart that you both just enjoyed to mirror each other, to see your own sickness reflected on someone else. That it was nothing but a sick, meaningless fantasy projected onto a strong but simple friendship.

Deep down, however, you knew your true intentions were different. It was your earnest wish: that some rainbow colored, gonna-happen and not-to-be-mocked day he would confess his feelings to you and be able to have a somewhat conventional and fulfilling relationship with you.

The games finally came to fruition. And in typical Roy extravagance, he decided to start the conversation on the most inappropriate of places.

His sharp and very public office with glass see-through windows. He was pretending to read his emails, doing work, for once. And he didn’t even bother to raise his gaze from his phone when he muttered “So, uh, is it true? Are you in love with the guy or something?”

You sighed, and for a fleeting moment considered telling him the truth. But today was not the day. Instead you distractedly responded “Uh, yeah sure. How could I not be? We've been seeing each other for a while now”

Your response apparently tickled something in the pit of his stomach, because he squirmed on his sit and made an ugly face as he continued his rant

“Come on! The guy is a prick. Just another model-fucking brocker. And from Miami of all places. You believe that make-believe story of early retirement? The guy is probably under investigation, hiding from a trip to the grand jury.” He called your name in an exasperated sigh “They are all the same. You are not some bimbo bitch, you know this”

“Fuck off, Roman. You are so fucking predictable” He really wasn’t, but you still let out a laugh that could only be described as unamused “What about it? You are just another rich suit on the east end and no one’s bitching and complaining about it”

Making your most annoying baby voice, you continued to mock him as you moved closer to him

“Model-fucking brocker. What a clever boy you are, Rome, seriously.”

All of this was going on in the space of a rich shade of brown leather furniture and Italian wooden desks.

Finding it hard to remember how much you enjoyed watching his dark viridescent eyes spark while he thought of another clever comment, how he had stood up for you, shakingly but firm in his conviction of protecting you as much as he could. How at closed doors, he became a cynical no-nonsense type of man early at dawn, only to melt away around the same time dusk came into sight. It was hard to remember it all, remember this was your plan all along, when he acted so dense.

“Stop doing that baby voice on me. You know It gets me going”

”God, Remy. You are HRs worst fucking nightmare, disgusting sick freak!”

“You are only getting me harder. Please go on” He got up the couch and started making theatrical moans and graphic gestures over the coach.

Last thing you expect from an uptight office administration is a fine sense of humor. And you’d be right. They don’t.

Roman doesn’t.

Suddenly tired of the childish bickering that would usually make you smile, you dropped on the sofa, with heavy shoulders, and suddenly feeling that the bun on your hair was too tight, the fabric on tour sweater started itching your skin, and the collar began to strangle you.

The man takes notice. He sits besides you on the sofa, and unbuttons the first two tiny pieces, the ones nearest at your neck. An unexpected smile adorns your face, and he looks down at your neck, the little beams of sweat forming around the warm skin, he looks at you in the eye, a bit more serious, when he tells you “Hey, I get it. I could see how this messianic older Patrick Bateman could wow even as tough a cookie as you. Oh my, yes.”

A laugh is heard. Roman seems relieved. You get closer to him and playfully bump him on the shoulder with yours.

Things are quiet for a beat. But they can’t stay silent forever.

“You are not in love with him”.

“I am”

“No, you are not.”

Murmullo something under your breath, undoing your hair, preparing for the reason why you’ve been enduring this conversation in the first place.

“Please, Remy. What is this? We did not even have sex”

“Of course we do!”

“Jerking off in the same room as each other once a month doesn’t count, for the love of God!”

“You aren’t in love with one of those Manhattan parasites. Fucking transplants, with their, uh, petrodollars, and, uh south money. The fucker probably even needs a month in advance reservation to get into fucking, uh, Cantinori.”

You laugh. How innocent of you to think this was a good strategy in the first place.

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter. It's not that serious, okay? Will you get off my dick now?”

“Never. You know it. I’m a sick puppy and I’ll follow you around forever even if you only feed me with scraps”

Your head rests on Roman shoulder now. Not caring about the curious, judging eyes watching from beyond the glass. Rolling your eyes, and then closing them for a second. You can smell his aftershave, the scent they use at the cleaners, his cologne. The eyes still way their knowing eyes, but, with the Roys, they probably had seen worse.

“Speaking of, I’ll fucking take you to Cantinori. Right fucking now. No peasant reservations. Hell, I’ll take you to that horrible hippie place you like. What’s it called? Fucking Buddakkan?”

You laugh, again. You were drunk on his scent and tired, your eyelids tickled and threatened to close themselves. “Oh forget it. Don’t be so insecure.”

“Oh, fuck off. You are just trying to fuck me over. We both know it.”

You suddenly don’t feel so tired anymore. Looking up, with big, doe eyes, embellished with the sweet look of hope. Like a child, begging for love.

“It’s working, okay? I’ll do better”

You smile. For the first time since this started, he sounds sincere. He gives you a chaste, small kiss on the side of your temple. When he retreats, the feeling still burns on your skin.

Giving him a kiss on the cheek in return, you feel its warmth. And it’s redder than you remembered it to be.

——

The tallest building of Manhattan, 200th on Amsterdam Street, with its rectangular grid windows, and the light, rough looking concrete on its exterior, with its golden door, and the mirrored elevator that always seems to be too cold to the touch.

In the private penthouse of the building, the natural light fills the space, and it bounces off several antique mirrors, instead of its usual blue iridescent artificial lights. The wine cellar is usually emptied out on Saturday mornings, its contents laying over a table set for two, with takeout sharing the surface with the sound of chatter, laughs and clattering dishware.

The small hot tub that lays on top of the turf, is just deep enough for lounging and contemplation. Naked bodies lay in it inside it, merely caressing each other, mindlessly, tenderly, without an ounce of sin in its touch. Adding the cold air that is always contrasting the warm water of the tub, and fingertips wrinkle before anyone disturbs the serenity of the scene.

The patio has a privileged view of the city and its bright blue sky. Two black sofas with a concrete table in-between. Although the townhouse is in the middle of a concrete city , recently there has been plenty of greenery as lines of Star Jasmine, Oak Stars and Lavender decorate most of the patio.

In the master bedroom lies the two of them, coffee has been made by the man, because he is a light sleeper, and knows the woman adores to drink something right after getting out of bed. The sheets are warm, slightly humid with sweat, evidence of the previous night. And he can barely see her face in between her arms and hair, but he smiles as he leaves a kiss over her shoulder, and holds her tighter.

200th in Amsterdam street is finally being lived in.

Notes: This was based on this Ao3 request! I had so much fun. I’ll never get over my RR phase I fear. I haven’t been posting much because I took a gap year and I’m studying to get into my dream college and taking care of my grandad. Please take care everyone! Writing in here has become my safe place. Thank you for that.

- Sidey xxxo

[crispys-records]

travis is the whipped one in any ship hes in but i like to imagine hes especially whipped in zanvis.

like here he is pining for this hot emo freak with the most gorgeous eyes and beautiful laugh and he looks good in everything but especially all black and his voice makes u swoon and (ayesha erotica anyone)

travis gains more confidence once he graduates highschool. and when he realizes that zane lives on the same street as him, hes brought back to his immature highschool days staring longingly at any hot person who doesn't want anything to do with him who passes him in the halls.

hes 14 again, leaning against the lockers and talking to his confidence coach when he gets distracted. not by a hot girl, but by the prettiest boy hes ever seen, sulking to class with a glare that would make anyone faint. he clearly doesn't want a single person to go near him. and travis, ever the unconfident one, wants a piece of that. dante thinks its for a girl. like that hot katelyn chick travis used to stare at? its gotta be her. but sometimes travis will disapear after school, and dante will find him staring at something or someone behind the bleachers and he starts to piece together that travis's type in men is INSANE.

travis never ends up mustering up the courage, but now hes an adult. hes hotter, more charismatic, better. so he waltzes right up to zane's house, knocks on his door, and totally makes a fool of himself. zane sees right through it. he'd find it endearing if he cared, but theres better things to care about than some idiot trying to cozy up with him. So travis is mostly ignored.

zane's days are filled with monotony. he wakes up, gets dressed, works for several hours, and leaves the house for one reason or another. but at some point, travis starts appearing in his point of view, forcing himself into the routine. its not wake up, work, go out, sleep anymore. its wake up, work, talk to travis, sleep. they (reluctantly) exchange numbers. now its wake up, text travis, work, talk to travis, sleep. zane starts to miss when travis isnt there, starts to relish in those moments when they talk. his pride is too much, though, so he'll insist its because travis and aphmau are friends. hes adamant that aphmau's influencing him, that he and travis get along through no fault of his own. hes a tough, emo guy who hates the sun. he couldn’t possibly like a guy as bright as one. no matter how endearing he is. no matter how much he knows they like each other.

as their friendship grows, and they start to hang out with each other exclusively, zane realizes something. travis is popular. a lot of girls, and even some guys, fall for his stupid faux confidence shtick. in a way, it makes zane feel triumphant. he knows that its all an act. he knows the real travis. but it also pisses him off, how travis doesn't even brush them off when theyre together. theyre not in any kind of relationship, not like that. but zane knows travis likes him, so why isnt he saying anything? zane thinks about it more, and realizes that oh. he likes travis too. maybe even more than he realized.

its not long before zane's infamous glare reaches the others. people learn to steer clear of travis when zane's next to him. and as travis starts to second guess himself, zane grows more confident of his and travis's future relationship that hasnt even happened yet meanwhile, travis's confidence starts to slip again. why arent people coming up to him as much? is he unattractive? how can he impress zane without fans now? he starts to postpone his confession, worrying that he isnt worthy enough of zanes love and affection.nevermind the fact that zane's been more physically affectionate. zane leans on travis's shoulder now, grabs him by the wrist and pulls him along, plays with his hair when hes bored. travis is too wrapped up in his head to even realize that he has a chance.

meanwhile, zane, realizing travis wont be making a move anytime soon, wonders if travis even likes him anymore. why wasnt he paying attention to the affection hes been giving him? why wont he say anything? a quick conversation with aphmau later, and he figures out that if he doesnt make the first move, no one will, and theyll be stuck in this limbo forever. so zane does. he says fuck it one day and asks travis if he likes him. travis panicks, thinks that zane is disgusted, starts apologizing profusely, saying he was sorry that it was so obvious and how could he bother zane like that. hes rambling, he wont shut up. zane shuts him up with a kiss. and thats his answer.

zane is cool as shit btw hes so hot. travis is this pathetic loser and probably like taller than zane and is probably the top in the relationship but zane is COOL. he kabedons travis and says cool shit and takes the lead in the relationship. HES the handsome cool boyfriend and travis is the pathetic one. zane takes TRAVIS on dates. zane is the one who the pays the check at restaurants. god i love emo boys

[wnderkoo]

♡ BUILT FOR LOVE - TEASER 2!

It's been years since Jungkook left to pursue his dream of being a volleyball star, and while you couldn't be happier for him, you missed that love in your life. Years after your breakup, just when you finally think you might be okay without him, he comes back. After falling back into old patterns, you realise that Jungkook is a love worth fighting for.

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: second chances au | fluff, angst, smut word count: 18k+ (2.3k for this teaser) tags: volleyball player! jungkook, lovers to strangers to friends to lovers, tba!

read the first teaser here!

teaser 2!

A month goes past of living with Jungkook and in those few odd weeks a genuine friendship had bloomed again between you, and soon enough you're looking forward to coming home and the impromptu movie nights you sometimes have.

You start to notice more and more of his belongings around the apartment, like his toothbrush beside yours in the bathroom, his shoes on top of yours in the pile beside the door, little things that feel so awfully domestic you have to remind yourself not to ruin it by imagining it as something it isn't and never will be.

You don't realise just how used to his presence you are until you come home from a day at the office to an empty apartment, lights off besides the one lamp in the living room hinting at the absence of a certain brown haired man.

His bed is still neatly made, like it was in the morning when you'd woken up to find Jungkook cooking breakfast.

Despite your best efforts to wake up earlier and be a good host and cook breakfast, he always beat you to it, a plate of bacon and eggs always ready for you in the morning.

Toeing off your shoes, you collapsed down onto the couch with an exasperated sigh.

While the last few weeks had been fun and you were glad Jungkook was your friend again, he was just a friend and there was an itch that needed to be scratch and a desire that needed to be satisfied that you couldn't ask of your newly reintroduced friend.

There were times where you'd tried to satiate yourself in the privacy of your bedroom, but it had always felt too dirty to do anything with Jungkook just outside the door.

The thought of being heard was too mortifying for you to get anywhere.

But tonight, in the buzzing atmosphere of a city nightclub, you let your hips sway like no one was watching.

Because tonight, you looked hot.

And tonight, you were going to get laid.

In a maroon red dress that reached your lower thighs, the fabric hugging your curves perfectly, and heels to match, you looked nothing short of ravishing. Your hair was out, flowing over your shoulders in soft curls and making you look angelic under the ambient lights of the club.

"Find anyone yet?"

You turn at the sound of Hari's voice, meeting her kind eyes as she grins at you expectantly.

You'd dragged her out tonight, calling her as soon as you got home and asking if she wanted to have a night out on the town, and ever the party girl, she'd said yes. You made sure to invite Jimin, knowing he'd have your asses if you left him out on a club night, but he had other plans, telling you to have fun without him with a frown and a wink.

"Not yet," you reply, looking out across the club floor.

While you did find eyes on you more than once, entertaining the advances that men made on you throughout the night, you hadn't felt a real spark with anyone and even if you were just looking for a hook up, you had to have at least a little decorum.

It took you a year after things ended with Jungkook to even think about being with anyone else, and even then your relationships never made it past a month or two. There was always something missing, it never seemed to feel 100% right.

So you settled for the temporary high that relationships and hookups gave you, hoping that you'd find that 100% when the stars aligned.

"You'll find someone!" Hari encourages before being whisked away by the guy she'd been gravitating toward the whole night, laughing as the tall blonde led her back out onto the dance floor.

You watch as she disappears into the the crowd and only when she fades against all the other silhouettes do you let your smile drop as you realise you probably weren't going to get laid tonight.

You'd been here for two hours, and there was only so much one could take before their social battery died and all they wanted to do was go home and pass out in the warmth of their blankets.

The two hours of drinks and dancing finally start to affect your depth perception and as you make your way back from the bathroom, the low lighting of the hallway causes you to trip on nothing and stumble forward.

A surprised noise leaves your lips when you crash into a broad chest, your arms come up to stabilise yourself. Whoever's chest you found yourself leaning against was warm and smelled nice. Tropical.

"Yn?"

Your head snaps up, eyes blinking rapidly as they focus on the unexpected face.

"Jungkook?" you ask with a quiet gasp as if your eyes might be playing a trick on you.

"What are you doing here?"

You hadn't seen him at the club at all, though your attention had been focused on what was in front of you, namely the men you were dancing with.

You're too comfortable with the warm weight around your back and the hand holding your arm to steady you, making no move to push him away.

Jungkook just stares down at you for a beat before clearing his throat.

"You called me.." he answers and your brows knit together in confusion.

"What? I never called-"

A rush of heat flames his cheeks as Jungkook watches you reach into the top of your dress, pulling out your phone. Your brows crease as you unlock it, looking at your recent calls and true enough, there was an outgoing call to Jungkook from twenty minutes ago.

"All I could hear was background noise so I wasn't sure if you'd meant to call me.." he says, running  guya hand down the back of his neck awkwardly.

"But I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Ugh. Why did he have to be so considerate?

"From what I heard on the phone, I assumed you were at a club and this is the only one I know you've been to so I thought I'd come here first."

You were way too drunk for this.

Too drunk for his kindness and the onslaught of feelings that it brought.

There were at least ten different clubs in this part of the city alone, what if you hadn't been here? Would he have gone to all of them looking for you?

You didn't want to know the answer to that question, because it would just make you love him even more. And you couldn't love him anymore.

"Are you drunk? Do you want me to take you home?"

A gentle hand brushes the hair out of your face as Jungkook takes in your figure. Flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, clinging onto him like you'd fall if you let go.. you were definitely more than a little tipsy.

You can't stop staring at him, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt where they're pressed against his chest. Your fingers twitch with the need to touch his face, brush over the scar on his left cheek, the only imperfection on his otherwise perfect face.

Sure you were drunk, but you could still appreciate beauty.

"Come on," he smiles, moving your hand to his bicep as he walks you back to the main part of the club.

You cling onto him drowsily, coming down from your high and crashing straight into exhaustion.

"I'll be right back, stay here, alright?"

A gentle thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into the touch before it disappears. You manage to nod and watch as Jungkook disappears into the crowd, finding Hari amongst all the moving bodies.

He stands there awkwardly for a moment, waiting for her to turn her attention from the blonde she's dancing with and notice him.

She does a double take when she sees Jungkook standing in front of her, surprised to see him here of all places. Taking in his appearance, he wasn't exactly dressed for the club scene. Black bomber jacket and cargo pants, he looked like he came straight from an illegal car race.

"I'm taking Yn home!" he shouts over the music, melting Hari's confused expression into one of understanding.

Craning her head over the crowd of people, she sees you leaning against a wall by the entrance staring awkwardly down at your feet.

"Thank you!" she shouts back, sincerity in her voice.

Ever since the breakup, she hadn't exactly been his biggest fan.. but for him to come and take you home- which she knew you hadn't planned- Hari could appreciate that Jungkook still cared about you.

"What about Hari?" you ask as Jungkook appears in front of you again and offers his arm. 

Even drunk you looked out for your friends.

Jungkook assures you that she had told him she was okay to get home when he had asked. Happy with his answer you let him lead you through the entrance and out the doors of the club.

The cold air sobers you just a little and a shiver wracks through you as the breeze carries through the night, brushing against the bare skin of your arms before it winds down the city streets.

Your hand is suddenly cold, missing the contact when Jungkook shrugs out of his jacket before draping it over your shoulders. Warmth blankets around you and his scent fills your senses, somehow comforting and tormenting at the same time.

You mumble out a thank you before Jungkook takes your hand again, leading you the rest of the way to his car.

"Just a bit longer sweetheart," Jungkook murmurs softly.

Kneeling on the floor beside your bed, he removes your heels one by one and caresses your feet, which he knows would be in pain from all the dancing.

It was a miracle that you hadn't fallen asleep in the half hour it took Jungkook to drive from the club back to your apartment, but it was starting to become a challenge to stay awake when you were perched on top of your soft blankets, and the way Jungkook was massaging your feet only pushed you closer to sleep.

You barely register his words before you're being pulled up onto your feet, which are now in socks.

You grumble out a whine, making a move to fall back into bed before Jungkook stops you by sliding his arm around your waist to keep you upright.

"I need to change you, Yn."

You definitely heard that.

You can't find it in you to protest, too tired and desperate to just pass out on your bed.

You were way past feeling embarrassed at the thought of Jungkook seeing you naked, but the idea of it was still mortifying.

You let out a non-commital sound letting him know it was okay, and Jungkook carefully slides the zipper of your dress down. His fingers graze the sides of your thighs as he drags the fabric down, making you inhale sharply. His touch is like electricity on your skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He helps you step out of the dress and your eyes are too close to shut to see where he goes when he steps away.

You suddenly feel awkward standing in nothing but your underwear, swaying the way that drunk people do.

You ease a fraction when you feel his presence in front of you again. Jungkook helps you into a hoodie and sweats, being incredibly patient as you take your time putting your legs into your pants, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

After removing your makeup and making you drink an entire glass of water, Jungkook tucks you into bed, fluffing your pillows and bringing the covers up to your chin just how you like them.

When he's sure you'll be okay, he reaches for the switch to your lamp but it's your soft voice calling out to him that makes him freeze.

"I miss this."

He stares down at you, almost thinking he imagined the words when he sees your eyes closed, blinking as he waits for you to continue. He laughs quietly to himself when he realises you probably dozed off.

"Miss what?" he asks quietly.

He stares at the soft features of your face as he waits for a reply.

"This. You taking care of me."

The next seconds are quiet enough that the cracking of his heart can be heard over your gentle breathing. Guilt slams into him, every thing that's been hanging over him for months comes down and crushes him under the weight.

He'd thought you'd moved on, you'd made it seem that way. But he should've known from the first night when you couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him before you were running out of the club into the cold.

He'd blamed it on the alcohol and built up emotions, but Jungkook knew now that there was still a million things that needed to be said.

This was the first time you'd ever brought up the past, always avoiding saying anything that would remind you of another time.

A past where you didn't have to walk on eggshells around each other, afraid of doing or saying something that would cross the line between friends and lovers.

A past where you could bring up inside jokes and they'd just be jokes, not a reminder of what used to be and the people you were.

A past where he didn't need to be afraid of loving you.

He hoped you wouldn't remember this in the morning. He'd already done enough, barging in on your life and being selfish enough to stay here. If you realised how vulnerable you'd been by bringing up the past, you'd be wrecked.

And if meant you could have your peace of mind, he'd hurt enough for the both of you.

Leaning down, Jungkook smooths a hand over your hair before placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Goodnight, Yn."

built for love is sooo close to being published! i can't believe it omg im so excited to get this out to you guys, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

🏷️: @tarahardcore @kissyfacekoo @hoseokteardrop @jkkkkkay

[milkywaydrabbles]

absolutely no stress on doing this quickly or even at all. i really enjoyed the mikey and taller!reader fic! very refreshing to avoid submissive readers for tr works, and your writing is lovely!

could i maybe request the same premise but for baji, draken or shinichiro? totally your choice

A/N: I'm not....sure what happened here. But I think I blacked out writing about Shinichiro, mad got me down BAD. This was loads of fun, I love the TR boys. I chose Draken and Shin to write about I hope it's okay and I hope you like it! MWUAH

Draken:

Draken first met you in middle school. You had ran into him, not paying attention at all to your surroundings since most people usually just walk around anyways due to your height. When he felt a body push at him Draken turned around ready to curse whoever it was--only to stop in his tracks when he realized whoever ran into him was taller than him and a girl.

You scowled, crossing your arms ready to fight right back. “What?” You spat, like you’re not the one that ran into him. 

Ken couldn’t help but laugh, he’s never met a girl as saucy as you (outside of the escorts at the brothel), let alone as tall as you. 

Safe to say that once you heard him out, a friendship grew rather quickly.

You were never part of Toman, or any other gang, but you honestly could have fooled any other gang member you ran into. You were attached at the hip with Draken, both of you pushing and shoving at each other, putting each other into headlocks, leaving things out of each other’s reach. Really, it was a bit of a nightmare to the rest of the members since the second one of them said anything about you two just being together already you’d jump at their throats before Draken even had the chance to.

Turns out, they were all right in the end! Years later, after you both had grown up and Draken had his own shop (that he prided himself in!) he shyly asked you out. You thought it was a joke at first, pushing him away with a ‘please be so serious’ but when he didn’t laugh you realized you fucked up. ‘Oh, you’re serious’. 

You obviously said yes, never seeing anyone in your life as close as Ken, but that doesn’t mean much changed between you two. You were still taller than him, so of course you’d do anything to bother him (bullying was your love language, really)

You’d pat his head and say things like “how’s the weather down there?” or “hey shrimp!” or even things like “I wish I were short like you, so much easier.” 

He wouldn’t take that quietly, but it usually just ended in both of you on the floor cackling like idiots. 

Sometimes, you’d be around the shop just with Inupi for a few moments, and you two obviously were not a thing so any jackass that came in to drop off their bike during those times would try to hit on you. 

It never ended well for them. 

Usually Inupi would have to hurry to where Draken was behind the scenes and beg him to ‘come get the guard dog’ only to find the customer in an arm bar with you kneeling over him.

(He made you apologize to the guy even though he hit on you. Can you believe that?)

It always caught Inupi and friends off guard when they actually caught you both being sweet to each other with kisses--it reminded them that you two were actually a couple.

NSFW:

Though Draken really didn’t show it much, he was absolutely whipped for you. Whatever you asked of him, he’d do, and that didn’t stop in the bedroom. 

You asked him once to rid him for as long as you wanted--of course he obliged. But what he didn’t realize was how much you would tease him along the way.

His hands would be gripping your waist to ground himself, fingertip shaped bruises blooming underneath as you bounced on his lap, a hand grasping at his jaw and forcing it open with your thumb. You’d grind down on his cock, spitting into his mouth with a smirk. “You like the way my pussy feels, Ken?”

He’d nod furiously, murmuring curses to himself over and over as he felt himself get closer to his peak. 

You could always tell when he got close though, and lifted off him, leaving him a mess underneath you. “‘M not done, Ken.” You’d complain, rubbing his cock between your pussy lips, bumping the tip to your clit with each drag. “You said as long as I wanted, remember?” 

It was hard to forget when all he could feel was you sinking back down on his hard cock, tightening around him and slowly grinding on him. 

You’d choke him, lightly, enough pressure to have his eyes rolling to the back of his eyes as he fucked up into you. “F-fuck, baby please--your pussy is so fucking tight.” 

These were the times he’d be the most vocal, with you on top of him dragging out his orgasm with each passing minute.

After you made yourself cum on his cock, you’d give him some reprieve: “Go head and cum for me baby--whatever you need to do.” That usually made him snap, holding onto your hips for dear life and fucking you at a relentless pace until he crumbled and shot his load deep into your pussy

Shinichiro:

Shinichiro saw you walking outside of his shop one day and he swore he saw stars. That guy fell for you fast and hard from the moment he saw you. Long legs that went on for day, gorgeous smile, what’s not to like?

He couldn’t let you just go on by without saying anything, so he ran out and called out to you. Suddenly feeling very awkward and shy when you walked back up to him, a good three inches taller than him. You didn’t seem like the demure type either, with a manicured brow raised up and a smirk playing on your lips. He sputtered out compliments, with a bow and a ‘please go out with me’ like he was in high school.

He had god awful luck with women, but all the gods must have taken pity on him when you laughed and agreed to let him take you out on a date. He almost didn’t believe it when you said yes!

Everything after that was a dream come true.

Shinichiro was whipped in every way for you. He’d hold doors open for you, pull chairs out for you, bring you flowers. He was the perfect gentleman! But it was hard not to be when you would so sweetly hold his saw and kiss him, followed by  ‘you’re such a good boy, Shin’. 

His pupils practically turned into hearts

When the two of you lounged together in your apartment, he’d always nuzzle into your chest, your hand running through his hair muttering praises of how sweet he always is to you, how you were so grateful to have him, how much of a good boy he was. 

You could see him preening at all your woods, pressing himself deeper into your chest and hugging at your midriff. 

The Black Dragons respected the hell out of you. Not only because you were their leader’s girl (duh) but because you held your own. You didn’t want to join a gang, but you commanded around them like you were part of them anyways. Whenever you came to a meeting they stood up a bit straighter, as you eyed them down like a hawk making your way to the front where Shinichiro stood. 

He remembers when one of the newbies made a snarky comment about you, and he was ready to shut up him but you beat him to the punch anyways.

You stood tall, looking down with your nose turned up and the look was so icy it sent shivers down everyone’s spines. “Little boys should keep their mouths shut.” 

No one heard a peep again

He fell in love a little more that day.

NSFW:

(Un)surprisingly, Shinichiro was very submissive to you in the bedroom. Of course he had his time and place to be rough with you, have you begging on your hands and knees, but you really ran the show.

Shin would be under you, cock leaking and swollen begging for release with you on top of him, grinding your pussy on his mouth, nose rubbing against your clit. You’d use him for your pleasure, bouncing on his tongue as he tried his best to please you. Shinichiro wanted nothing more than for you to be happy, and satisfied, so if that meant he had to give up air to see you writhing in pleasure so be it!

You’d play with your tits, smacking his hands away every time they’d inch closer: “Stay still, baby boy. No touching, remember?” He’d whine, but give in anyways, slobbering on your cunt and suckling your clit. 

You’d hump his face, looking back to see him cumming completely untouched. When you turned back to look at him, Shinichiro looked like he was fucked out of his mind. He was so pussywhipped he didn’t care that he came without any stimulation. Your pretty pussy being on his mouth was enough.

“Such a good boy for me, Shin--feels so good.” You’d praise. “Keeping me so happy, fucking me so good.” You’d moan when he gave a particularly hard suck to your clit, now humping up into the air with your praises. “Make me cum, baby, and I’ll let you fuck me. Okay?” 

Shin worked over time to make sure you came quickly in his mouth so he can finally shove his cock deep into that pussy he dreams about.

[diangelofan]

An Unexpected Friendship

I guess most people in this fandom wouldn't probably celebrate Percy Weasley's birthday, but I really like him (despite being such a stick in the mud sometimes). So (belatedly) here's some Percy and Oliver friendship!

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

September 1st, 1987

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit with us on the train ride to Hogwarts?” “Yeah, Perce, it’ll be fun! We’ll introduce you to our mates!”, Bill and Charlie Weasley stared back at their younger brother expectantly.

“I am sure. I wanted to get up to speed with my reading”, Percy raised his arms to show his heavy volume of Hogwarts: A History, “I would like to have finished it by the time we arrive at the castle.”

Maybe he should have gone with his brothers’ proposition. They, being the popular and “cool” older brothers they were, would probably never ask him to sit with them again. His two younger brothers, twins Fred and George, always made fun of him for being “such a huge bore” (thank Merlin, there were still two years before they came to Hogwarts as well; Percy shuddered just thinking about all the trouble those two would get into).

But he hadn’t lie when he said he wanted to finished his book. He had stopped at the chapter dedicated to the Ghosts of Hogwarts and it was quite fascinating…

“Okay, Perce. Enjoy the ride!” “Yeah, who knows, maybe you’ll make some friends of your own!” And with those words, Percy’s older brothers closed the door of his compartment closed, waving as they went. Percy waited till he could no longer hear their loud footsteps and voices before submerging himself in his reading.

Friends, sure, I’ll make some, Percy thought bitterly. He had never been able to form a friendship with the twins, who were the closest to his age (Molly homeschooled all her kids, so he had never spent much time with children his age), and, instead they always found something to mock him about. But, sure, maybe he would make friends.

The pass of time became irrelevant, as Percy sat and read for what could have been many minutes or hours. He had long since finished the Ghost Chapter and was nearing the end of a chapter titled The Chamber of Secrets (probably all just some legend, but interesting nevertheless), when he heard a knock on the door, followed by a small head peeking into his compartment.

“I am sorry, but all the other compartments I’ve been to were full. Could I sit here?” The other boy was also wearing plain black robes, like Percy, meaning he was another first year. Percy would have preferred to stay alone for the ride, but it seemed too mean to just deny the other first-year boy’s request when his compartment had more than enough space for the two of them.

“Okay. However, I am reading, so if you could please remain silent, it would be highly appreciated.” There you go with the “pompous” vocabulary, thought Percy, now the boy is going to look at you weirdly. It had happened before during dinner time. Percy would make a comment on the topic of conversation and he would only received confused glances back. A consequence of reading too many classic novels, textbooks and dictionaries, probably… oh well…

To the red haired boy’s surprise, the other boy just nodded and smiled, taking a book from his satchel: “That’s fine. It gives me the chance to reread my favourite book Quidditch Through the Ages for the second time today.”

And thus, the two boys spent most of the train ride in this manner, sitting quietly beside each other while reading their respective books. It was quite enjoyable, in Percy’s opinion.

It must have been a couple hours later when Percy’s reading was interrupting again (he was just one chapter short of finishing) by a tiny cough and a nervous voice stating: “I finished my book… It was quite interesting! Even though, I’ve read it almost like a million times before, I always get so surprised when reading about the origins Quidditch and how it all started! It’s truly fascinating…! I love-! …Sorry, I realize I am rambling like a fool… I just wanted to introduce myself: I am Oliver Wood and I am first year, which I think you are as well… right?”

Oliver’s face had quickly passed through different emotions during his small speech: from nervousness, to excitement, to joy, to embarrassment, and then back to being nervous. While Percy’s first idea had been to quickly answer with his name and continue reading quietly, something in the other’s boys words had really resonated with him. That excitement which what he read had incited in him, as well as the embarrassment when realizing he was rambling about a very niche and bookish topic, was something that Percy had experienced a couple of times before. He knew how it felt to have his “boring” interests dismissed (even if that had not being the person’s intention at all) and he refused to do it to somebody else if he could help it. Afterall, he could read the remaining chapter before going to bed that night.

Thus, he closed his book and smiled, answering the other boy’s question: “Nice to meet you, Oliver. My name is Percy Weasley and, yes, I am also a first year.”

“Oh, great! Finally someone I can commiserate with! I am sooooo nervous about Hogwarts… though it’s also all really exciting!”, exclaimed Oliver.

And that’s how the two boys spent the rest of their ride to their new school. They talked about their families (Percy going into a rant about the troubles the twins could get into with their little pranks, while Oliver told him how his parents had spent weeks telling him stories about their time at Hogwarts in anticipation for the event), what house they would be in (both mentioned that it was very probable it would be Gryffindor as that was where most of their family members had ended up in), and the things that most excited them about Hogwarts (for Percy, it was learning about magic in all those new different ways, while for Oliver, as the huge Quidditch enthusiast he seemed to be, it was watching and, starting in his second year hopefully, playing at the Interhouse Quidditch Cup).

Percy didn’t know Oliver’s opinion, but when both boys got together into one of the little boats that would transport them to the castle, the red-haired boy thought to himself: Well, this seems like the start of an unexpected friendship. Maybe his brothers had been right, after all, and he had nothing to worry about in the friends department. Yeah, just maybe…

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Suicide Prevention Month

TW: Mentions of Suicide, Depression, Death, Familial Issues

In honor of Suicide Prevention Month, I want to share something that’s been weighing on me for a long time. From ages 11 to 19, I tried—five different times—to end my life. I was convinced that the darkness was all there was, that there was nothing beyond the pain I felt. But now, almost 20 years old, I’ve realized how wrong I was. If any of those attempts had succeeded, I wouldn’t be here to experience all the beauty and opportunity this life has to offer.

It’s hard to put into words just how much I’ve learned about myself over the years. I’ve been through more pain than I ever thought I could endure. There were moments when it felt like even the darkness was too bright for me, and all I wanted was for everything to stop. Some days, that feeling still lingers. Some days, I wake up and wish I had succeeded. I find myself staring at a blank page with a pen clutched in my hand, or a blank screen with my hands over the keyboard, wondering if anyone would stand at my grave if I disappeared. 

But here’s what I’ve come to understand: If I have a reason to write a note, I have a reason to keep living. The very act of wanting to leave something behind, a final word or explanation, means there’s something still holding me here. Something still worth fighting for, even if I can’t always see it in the moment.

Life isn’t easy. I know firsthand what it’s like to feel like the world has turned its back on you. 

My life is far from perfect. I’m still dealing with things that weigh me down, wounds that have never fully healed.  For as long as I can remember, I’ve been trying to reconcile what it means to be "unwanted." And for a long time, I thought that meant I didn’t deserve to be here.There are times when I still feel like I’m on the outside looking in, struggling with rejection from the people who are supposed to love me unconditionally. When I was 18, I almost died in a car accident, and my mother didn’t shed a single tear. I can vividly remember lying in that hospital bed, watching her scroll through her phone as if my being there was nothing more than an inconvenience.

I still feel the weight of that day. But the most painful moment was later, during a heated argument when I broke down and whispered, "I wish I had died." My mother, who had started a new family with my stepfather and seemed to drift away more and more each second had shot back immediatelt "Well, too bad you didn’t."

It was in that moment, more than any other, that I truly felt abandoned—like I was nothing but an obligation to her. It was the moment I realized the cage I felt trapped in was my own hope that my mother might one day see me, acknowledge me, love me the way I had longed for her to. That kind of pain—the pain of abandonment, of never being enough for the people who are supposed to love you the most—it doesn’t go away overnight. Maybe it never fully goes away at all.

But here’s what I’ve learned: the pain isn’t forever. No matter how much it hurts right now, it won’t always hurt this bad. Over time, it becomes easier to carry. There are days now where I can breathe again, where I’m reminded that life still has so much left for me to experience.And that i deserve to be here. That God put me on this planet for a reason. That whatever you believe in - God, Allah, the Universe, Science- there is a reason why you are here. And if I deserve to be here- so do you.

No matter how hard life gets, and trust me, it gets unbearably hard sometimes, there is still so much left to experience. There’s still love to be found, friendships to build, moments of pure joy and connection that you can’t even begin to imagine when you’re stuck in that dark place. If those five attempts had worked, I never would’ve had the chance to meet new people, to maybe one day fall in love, to start a family of my own. I wouldn’t be here, sitting at my desk, writing this, hoping that my words reach even just one person who needs to hear it.

Sometimes, when things feel like they’re too much, I find solace in the small, ordinary moments. The smell of coffee in the morning. The feeling of dread when I see a spider and know I have to deal with it. The excitement of seeing a friend I hadn’t seen in a while, or the simple contentment of putting my thoughts on paper. Life isn’t just made up of the big, earth-shattering moments; it’s these small, everyday experiences that give it meaning.

I’ll be honest—there are days when I still struggle. Days where I feel like I’m slipping back into that tunnel where the light at the end seems unreachable. I know that feeling well. I’m going through it right now, in fact. It hits me hard, especially knowing that even during my lowest points, there were no tears shed for me. That’s a kind of pain that lingers.

But even in the midst of that pain, I’ve learned something important: suicide is a permanent solution to a set of temporary problems. I’m not saying that life will magically get better overnight, or that you won’t face hardships moving forward. You will. Life doesn’t pull any punches. But what I am saying is that there are bright, beautiful days ahead of you, ones that you can’t even fathom yet. There are people you’ll meet along the way who will walk with you, hold your hand, and help you face whatever’s ahead. You don’t have to be scared to face those days alone.

There are people in my life who I rely on heavily—people who don’t even know how much they mean to me because I don’t want to burden them with my struggles. Sometimes it’s the smallest things they do that make the biggest difference. And that’s something I’ve learned recently: even when you feel like a burden, even when you feel like no one cares, there are people who love and need you, even if they don’t always show it in the way you hope they would.

You are loved. You are needed. And I know that might be hard to believe right now, but trust me, it’s true. If I could go back and talk to that 11-year-old me, the one who thought that the only way out was to end it all, I’d tell her to hang on. That the future, while uncertain and sometimes terrifying, is full of possibility. That there are so many more smiles to smile, more laughs to laugh, more songs to hear, more stories to live.

I’ve lived 19 years as an adult. Almost 20. And it’s only now that I’m starting to experience that pure, childlike wonder I thought was lost to me forever. It’s only now that I’m beginning to see what’s truly possible in life. And if any of those five attempts had succeeded, I would’ve missed out on all of it. On the hope of finding love, of giving my future children the kind of love I yearned for growing up. On the anticipation of doing great things. On the nervous indecisiveness of realizing that my future is wide open, waiting for me to step into it.

So if you feel like you can’t take another day, I want you to know that it *will* get better. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But eventually, you’ll reach the end of that tunnel. And when you do, there will be people waiting for you, ready to help pull you through. Stay for them. Stay for the small moments you haven’t experienced yet, the ones that seem insignificant but make life worth living. Stay because your story isn’t over yet, and you are the one who gets to write the next chapter.

It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It’s okay to feel lost. But know this—you are strong enough to get through it. I’ve been there. But I’m still here, and I’m asking you to stay, too. Stay to see the good that’s still waiting for you. Stay to laugh, to cry, to feel all the things that make life real. Stay, because you are loved, even when you can’t see it. You matter more than you know.

You are the author of your story. It’s not finished yet, and the best chapters are still ahead. Stay for them. Stay for you. 

You matter. Your life matters. And the world is a better place with you in it.

[demigoddessqueens]

my favorite (patient) doctor

A/n - is it ok to just fast forward for only the scenes of a hot doctor? Well I did, hence the fluff alphabet

Summary: A-z fluff Alphabet for Dioneo

Masterlist 11

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

In the public eye, it’s soft touches and subtle (not really) glances but behind closed doors, you can’t keep your hands off each other

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Dioneo is top tier (boy) friend material; perfect listener and a deadpan sense of humor that always makes you grin

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

That tall frame with muscles biceps?? Born to cuddle, forced to be a doctor

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

As a doctor, he’s used to nore time nursing other patients and nobles but would not be a stranger to other domestic tasks, and if you ever got together, at least you would have some of the help for the home

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Chances are you would be the one calling it off because Dioneo could not conceive of any reason to let you go, and it would destroy him still

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Just say the word and set date and he’ll be there by your side, just as you desire.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Very gentle, wants to make sure you feel safe around him, and keens for how gentle you are with him too

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Those arms are meant for hugging and holding, and you have no qualms reciprocating right back

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It’s canon he does fall hard and falls fast, so don’t be too surprised after a few days or even a week, at most

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Very jealous and you see it cross his face if Tindaro tries to make advances towards you. He knows you don’t reciprocate but it’s a harsh reminder of the differences

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Dioneo just adores your lips, how sweet they taste when you kiss, but feels more smitten if you ever kissed his cheek

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Given his streak of patience, I’d say Dio would make children feel safe, indulging them with a story or two

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

You and Dioneo try to enjoy the morning as much as possible with kisses and affection before there’s a banging at the door for the day

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Sometimes passionately, but also so sweetly as it’s a refuge from the Plague ravaging outside

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Pretty early on, like as soon as you start talking to get to know each other.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It would take a lot to hurt him; and if anything, even if you didn’t reciprocate his feelings he wouldn’t bother you

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You may have not given second thought to any answers about yourself but Dio

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

You were out walking the gardens with him early one morning before everyone else awoke, the sun peeked through to kiss your hair, an amused smile on your face as a butterfly landed on your hand

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective!! Mercenaries, diseased people trying to get in, just get tucked away right behind him

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

When is he NOT trying is more like it?? Grand gestures may or may not be your thing, but Dioneo always wants to communicate how much he cares for you

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Self doubt or a form of all consuming jealousy if a noble gets too close to comfort with you

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Maybe just a healthy amount of “I know I look good” with a mix of “but I think you look better”

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Dioneo knows his work is a part of him but if he didn’t have you, the happiness and fulfillment and brighter optimism you’ve brought would cease

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Likes it when you cook (if you can), a homecooked meal can be a love language

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

The snobbish attitude or looking down on others just because of the circumstances of birth

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Maybe some light snores but you are entirely cuddled and tucked away safely under his biceps

[limbus-limousine]

Keep saying this but I loooove how relationships are talked about and portrayed in Demian (1919). Like. To an insane degree that I can barely put into words. It bothers me how overlooked it is sometimes? People always have a tendency to shove fictional relationships into very cramped, defined little boxes and then fight over the plastic label.

The way relationships are seen in Demian is one of the main reasons why I hold this book so close to my heart, because it was the first time I saw my thoughts put into words that I could analyze and study. That and the whole premise of how growing up in a religiously oppressive environment disguised with love and purity will inevitably affect how you process your feelings toward others... Makes me relate to Sinclair a lot. And it feels like a gross oversimplification to restrict his feelings as platonic or romantic.

I've talked about how I see Demian and Eva as extremely related entities before, how they are essentially the same. But I think their distinction as physical characters is very useful for the storytelling and symbolism. As I see it, Demian (the book) is all about love. It's not just about finding love in someone else but also finding love in yourself, in what you do and where you are in your life. This might be more of a personal interpretation, but to me, Eva represents a very, very specific feeling, in a way it's a culmination, a point where you finally stop to think and say to yourself "maybe I am okay. This is what okay feels like to me". Freudian influence aside... The motherly themes hit me really hard for this very reason:

When I read how Sinclair slowly fell out with his family, it spoke of a very specific experience. A very specific realization. "This deal isn't that of a bad friendship or acquaintance. I won't have a second chance. Simply because of how I was born, where I was born, there are human experiences that I'll never be able to know, and I am powerless to change that", you cannot choose your family, your mother, right? It's what you get, and you see around you what could've been but never was, and it makes you feel weak.

That's why Frau Eva is such an important figure. Because that is when Sinclair finds his family again, in a way. Why should blood matter so much? Sure, there's a biological connection, it's also been studied that romantic relationships reach their "high" during their earlier days due to hormones and neurotransmitters, right, "love at first sight", but those will eventually cease production as all does. It is your choice to nurture that relationship and to cherish it, to keep and to care for it. Blood does not matter, home is a person and it's right next to me, right now. I think that is what Frau Eva is, as a whole. And allowing that feeling to coexist with the platonic and the romantic is very important as I see it. One of the main problems of this motherly dynamic is the power difference, what makes Sinclair struggle in his childhood is the constant sensation of being watched, of being subjected to severe judgement. Frau Eva is supposed to remove that factor, she listens and she welcomes any thought or idea, there isn't fear of rejection or punishment, that's what makes it feel "like home". That was, kind of, the last step to reach the fulfillment Sinclair needed. I see Eva as the "destination" of this whole thing.

And Demian, he is the journey. One of the biggest mistakes one can make is to dismiss the process and work that goes into an achievement, because it is important. There is no Eva without Demian, they are intrinsic by nature. And journey is something that never leaves you. Even when Sinclair reaches his destination, he never stops caring about Demian. He visits Eva and he visits Demian, even if he has to walk through horrible weather, he speaks of his dreams to them, and he sits at the table and eats with them. Because during your journey you gain so many things you never expected, and at the end of the road, they become part of your fulfillment and needs as much as the main achievement is.

What Sinclair obtains from Demian and Eva, and everything in between them, is a unique relationship, deeply fulfilling, trusting, reassuring, a place where you know you can come to, even when you're at your lowest. Eva capitalizes on the genuine care, nurturing qualities, but Demian, too is a mentor, although I find falconer to be a better comparison. He helps the sparrowhawk grow its clipped wings, but in turn, he shall not stop it from flying, only the bird itself can choose to return the falconer's affections. But at the end of the day, all the falconer wishes for is to see him take flight. Sinclair obtains everything: friendship, camaraderie, acceptance, relief of a deep rooted guilt, no judgement for his human desires, the care and trust he lost from his mother, and something to look forward to after waking up in the mornings.

At the end of the book, Sinclair is separated from both of them, as I've said, they are intrinsic. But of course, they don't fully leave. As I see it, the kiss being from Eva means that your achievement is and will always be a sweet thought. Something you hold dear, that you can think of to comfort yourself. But Demian is there to deliver it and to fix Sinclair's wounds because journey is experience. It is what strengthens you and gives you the tools to face future endeavors. And it feels safe... You are finally safe within yourself.

But what about the scary factor, though? Because that is present too in both Demian and Eva (which I happen to really enjoy, as well). As always, I think it's a balance. It's good to know fear, it's a human emotion like any other. But the fear that radiates from them is more... Animal-like. The fear Sinclair once felt was a deep rooted terror that was born from something divine. You're being watched. You're being judged. You're wrong. You're a sinner. That's scary. Because it's telling you that the danger comes from yourself. When you see a beast staring into you, you don't feel self conscious, you don't feel repulsed, you feel the most natural shape that fear has. Beautiful things are scary. A snake can be scary. The stars can be scary. But it's not their fault, and it's not your fault either, it's just how it's meant to be. Because all feelings —love, anger, fear, sadness— and more, they are all important, they are all natural. But natural feelings can be beautiful. Artificial feelings make you fear something you've never witnessed, they make your stomach churn at the thought of yourself and they make you cry for something you haven't done. And most people around you live holding onto relationships that are, fundamentally, held by artificial feelings.

That is... Most of what I interpret from this book. And, god. It feels more like the book read me and not the other way around. I think I've truly found a bigger respite in art thanks to this novel. I have wanted to see the same beauty in the naturally grotesque... Learn about myself until rotting, flesh, maggots become just as beautiful and full of meaning as spring rivers and flowering plains, and for anger and fear to turn into something I can love and cherish like I do my inner child. Although they, too, have surely grown up.

That's it. I wanna play toysssss

[little-worm-grant]

Steven's pov: Happy Simple Normal Life

1,153 words / Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Some lighthearted scatterbrained memories from the mind of Steven Grant and his formative years. Previously: Marc's pov: Behind Closed Doors (18+ hurt/not a necessary read)

Continued: Steven's pov: Oh Sausages (more comfort)

Tags: Childhood Memories, Comfort, Fluff, Developing Friendship

Corridors were quiet. Everyone else had gone outside for recess. Steven had spent all his free time hiding out in a classroom to read. He was a good boy, and knew how to fly under the radar. Teachers felt they could count on him to be left in a classroom unsupervised. They didn’t know what he was really up to.

Steven had only one other love besides books. The moment he knew the coast was clear, he’d take the teacher’s chair out from behind the desk and push it out the classroom. He'd use it to race down the hall as fast as he could. Hopping on at the very last second to try and see how far he could roll. Might've seemed silly to some, but Steven got the biggest thrill out of it.

Sometimes the chair would collide with the wall. Other times he’d not make it onto the seat and looked like a pretty sad sap on the floor with the chair wheeling away from him. He kept trying. Just a couple of tries each time before retreating back to class. He never wanted to push his luck and get caught.

First attempt was crap. Caught on a classroom door frame and bounced to the other wall rather than down the bleeding hall. Okay, Steven. Get it together. He returned back down one end. The wheels of the heavy chair crackled along the dirty floors. Determination in his eyes.

Catching his breath back he looked over the seat to plan his trajectory. The hallway seemed to close in on him. Long and narrow. His breathing came back to him in long steady breaths. One last try. Now or never Grant.

Kicking off with one push against the wall. Shoving the chair forward. Steven broke into a sprint. His hands gripped the arms tightly. Cheering himself on. Losing his breath he made the final move to jump up onto the seat.

One knee up. Using the other leg to push off the ground. Steering the speeding chair down the hallway. Passing doors and lockers faster than he thought was possible. Smooth sailing. Second knee up. He clung to the backrest of the seat and beamed.

For a single moment, Steven Grant was on top of the world. Fearless. He could do anything he set his mind to and-

“MISTER SPECTOR!”

The screech of a woman's voice startled him. Swiveling his head around to see who his teacher was yelling at. Only finding her horrified eyes dead set on him. Oh crud. Too caught up on being caught, he’d not been looking where he was going. The chair bounced off a wall causing the whole thing to go barreling out of control. The last thing little Steven remembered was his face about to kiss the floor.

"OH SHI-"

Nice one, plonker.

School trip to the aquarium. He’d remembered being so excited to go to this. Couldn't believe he was actually here, that'd come round fast. The place was pretty busy. Lot of people around in and between his peers while the teacher tried keeping them all wrangled together. Fat chance of that. Steven might have gotten a tad distracted watching one of those informational videos. Not hearing or noticing anything else around him while his eyes were zoned in on the screen. Deeply entrenched with a slew of facts about mantis shrimps. Those buggars could really pack a punch. He couldn't even imagine seeing more colors. Hadn’t noticed the group had left him behind until they were already gone.

That was one of the few times Steven had ever truly felt lost in childhood. Alone in a new location without any way to find or get in touch with his group. Maybe he should wait there until he got back. Going off wandering would only make it worse, he wasn't daft. Once they noticed surely they’d come back.

He paced, avoiding stepping into people’s ways, trying to go back to information screens to settle himself but it wasn’t the same blissful unawareness he’d had before. The pit in his stomach worsened with every minute that passed. He started to need the bathroom but worried he might get lost trying to find one or while getting back. Panic built up in his throat and made his eyes all glassy. Blinking back the tears the back of his hand came up to wipe.

That's when he caught his own reflection in the glass of one of the darker aquariums. Murky waters showed the reflection of another boy who looked far calmer than he felt. Arms down by his sides. Didn’t constantly have his hands up in front of him fiddling or flailing them around like Steven did.

“Hi.” He said quietly.

“Hi.” The voice responded.

Steven imagined he heard him say it back, like he was right there. But he couldn’t have. That would’ve been daft. Imaginary friends his dad would have reminded him. That's what he told himself too. He could have conversations with himself for hours sometimes.

“I’m scared.” Steven admitted out loud to himself. To the fishes. To his friend.

“I know.” The reflection moved when he did. Another short pace to get closer to the glass. The facial expressions were all wrong. Maybe not wrong was the right word, but different. Steven could swear he didn’t frown like that. The voice spoke again. “It’s going to be okay though. You know that. Take a deep breath. They're gonna come back.”

Steven did take that breath. Sharply in and slower out. Letting go of that pent-up feeling building in his chest. Felt less alone, even if it was his own reflection that eased him.

“Yeah… I hope so. Would be a bit of a bummer if I had to live here with the fishes.”

"Nahh- that wouldn't be so bad. That's right up your alley."

"It'd be bosting honestly. I'd be dead happy. I'd name every single one of 'em Gus. We'd have a right good time."

The voice chuckled and the reassurances worked. If only to settle Steven down enough to subdue the growing panic.

"You think they'll be back soon?"

"Course. I'll wait with you until they do. Tell me about what you've seen so far. Is it fun?" "Oh man you wouldn't believe it. So there's this shrimp, yeah?"

He talked and talked and talked. The reflection listened. Even Steven was smiling in the end. Someone eventually did come back for him. Found him in the same place they’d left him, chatting away with the fishes. Telling them all about his day. The teacher was firm but nice. One last glance to the glass. He caught only his own reflection looking back at him this time.

“Bye mate.” He waved to the fishes as he was guided back to the group.

Kept telling himself everything was going to be okay; because in the end, it always was.

[hatsunevitu]

do you ship Stary (Stan x Gary)?

oh my god ABSOLUTELY. for some reason i got reaaally into it and came up with an au of how they got closer. i’m not usually a fan of ships with one-episode characters, but stary is SO great. HOLD ON LEMME TELL YOU ABOUT THAT AU

okay, so, we all know how “all about mormons” ended and that we have never heard of gary after that, right? now just let’s imagine he stayed in the school, in the same class as stan and others, but visibly started to avoid the main four. he hung out with the “background kids” and mostly girls, because they all adored how nice he is.

it didn’t actually make any difference for main four – they still thought gary was lame and were not interested in talking to him since he’s not a new kid in the class anymore. they all didn’t really like him. except for stan.

stan couldn’t get the thought of gary out of his head for all the following years. he didn’t make any attempts to befriending gary again, because he knew guys wouldn’t understand and he was terrified of hearing rejection again, so he mostly just… kinda secretly looked through gary’s social media once a week (or more often) and sometimes watched him out of the corner of his eye in the classroom.

he saw that gary was doing pretty fine without him, so he didn’t wanna be an inconvenience, but the thought. the thought that he had missed his chance to be friends with one of the most sincere and comforting people in the whole school only because of the peer pressure.

but he didn’t thought he could have a chance to reconnect until he has heard that gary’s parents are getting a divorce and that the “perfect mormon house” secretly had its troubles. and then, as it was absolutely destined, after the lessons ended, he sees gary sitting in the classroom all alone with a blank expression on his face and tired look in his eyes. and without giving it a second thought he walks up to gary and asks if everything’s fine.

and they start talking. for an hour, if not more. stan know some shit about divorcing parents, troubles at home and an urge to drink to feel happy (which turned out to be gary’s problem too), so he know how to support him, and gary is such a great listener. they start with discussing gary’s family problems, then eventually they start remembering their first time seeing each other, and stan (unexpectedly for even himself) openly admits he regrets fucking up things with their friendship, and he has dreamed of finally talking to him again for, like, ages. and gary just genuinely smiles and takes his hand saying that they still have time for that.

eventually they hang out together more. with gary there isn’t a lot of crazy adventures, and stan, who’s got pretty sick of those, feels so relaxed while being with him. the only thing is that they mostly meet privately and secretly from the rest of the main four, because stan feels this irrational shame for being friends with someone they don’t like. it kinda upsets gary, but he doesn’t want to end their friendship because of the same reason it ended the first time.

so yeah, that takes them two or three months until stan finally realises the unpleasant truth – he doesn’t wanna be just friends with gary and his nearly-obsession with him for the last five years was more likely a behaviour of a person who’s desperately in love. fuck. he doesn’t confess his feelings to gary because he’s too scared of fucking thing up the second time.

and it seems to be working, but the more stan spends time with gary, the more love he feels, until one day he finally snaps and while one of their walks in the park he very awkwardly kisses gary, who (honestly) doesn’t really seem to mind it.

and stan, an example of bravery, apologises and runs away before gary has a chance to answer him properly. ‘cause stan’s a jerk and he’s panicking.

he’s not used to handling stressful situations by himself, so he calls kyle because he has no one else to talk to:

stan: Dude, I have a problem. A big one.

kyle: Woah what happened??? Do you want me to come to your place?

stan: I just kissed a dude.

kyle: Okay I knew I’d hear these words from you one day.

stan: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNEW.

kyle: Oh please–

stan: We’ll talk about it later.

kyle: Pff, sure, dude. So you’re gay? Is this a coming out? I’m really proud of you finally admitting it out loud and sharing this with me, you know I’ll always support you whenever you ne–

stan: It’s Gary Harrison.

kyle: What. The mormon kid????

stan: Yeah, we kinda… Hung out together in secret…

kyle: But you hated him???

stan: WELL IT TURNS OUT I DIDN’T.

kyle: So what do you call me for?

stan: Oh, right. I kinda… ran away after we kissed?…

kyle: WHY.

stan: I DON’T KNOW, MAN, I PANICKED.

so kyle as the most supportive friend ever first laughs at stan, then helps him to understand what to do next. (and totally tells about it to cartman)

and, well, it’s pretty long enough so i guess i’ll stop here, because the rest of it is pretty much the plot of any slowburn mlm 200k words fic lmao

so yeah. answering to your question: i love stary. a lot.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi Cas!

ik this is unfair of me but sometimes i wish that i could tell my friends about my problems? for context in our culture what happens behind closed doors stays behind them basically we dont discuss shit that happens in our families with outsiders and i subconsciously do that as well but heres the thing, i wish that i could tell my friends and honestly nothing is really stopping me and i even start but then i cant find it in me to follow through with it and sometimes they insist and i refuse and this repeats twice or thrice and i keep telling them to leave it alone and then they actually do ik it's selfish of me to wish i could tell them when they ask after i bring it up and im the one who doesnt want to but it never feels natural and i just wish telling them was easy bc im a private person and i dont like opening up and theyve been my best friends for years and i couldnt have asked for better friends but i just cant tell them and i feel so alone bc i never tell anyone but i dont think they'd understand even if i did and every time i cry im alone and i have no one to turn to and i can feel a literal empty hole in my heart and the thing is one of my friends tells me all her friends and the others do as well and ik their problems at the very least a decent amount and i just wish there was someone exactly like me who i could tell but there isnt and ik i can always tell my friends but i dont want to ruin it bc im also fucked up on so many levels and if i start telling them i might end up telling them about those parts and theyll never see me the same way again and i wouldve ruined some of the best friendships ive ever had and i cant even tell my parents bc theyre responsible for a good amount of my problems and i always feel sad and like a disappointment and failure and no one ever understands bc i have it better than them and if i told some people theyd use it against me even if they understood so theres no one i could even tell and i js wish i had one of those friendships where telling this shit is natural and easy and mutual and not me hearing everything but ik it's my fault bc im the one holding back even when they try to insist but i wish theyd be more insistent even though ik id never tell them i js wish they cared about me the way i do about them

im sorry for js dumping this all on you but letting it out anonymously is just easier than telling people who actually know me

Hi!

Honestly, my wife has the same problem so I'm going to tell you what I tell her.

First, how do you know these people are your friends when you aren;t even giving them the chance to be friends to you? You have to give them a chance to help you and show you love you know? I know you're afraid they'll leave if you share those parts of yourself but at the same time, if you don't, they're not real friends anyway, you know?

Second, you're judging people before anything happens! You're not giving them a chance. And I get it- it's NOT easy. But you're saying you wish they care about you like you do them, but you're not giving them a chance.

It's scary, and some people will let you down. But at the same time, if you never let people in, you never have a chance of making those deep connections. It's worth it to take the risk, I promise <3

I'm sending love!