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moonstruckme · 3 days ago
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Hi Mae!! I was wondering if you could write something where reader is in the hospital for something and maybe another doctor or nurse doesn’t realize she’s remus’s gf and is being rude to her. And doctor!remus overhears and saves the day lol<3
Thank you for requesting lovely <3
cw: reader who menstruates, mention (not really description) of severe period pains, healthcare gaslighting
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 632 words
“Have you tried taking pain medications like ibuprofen?” 
You clench your jaw. “Yes, I have.” 
“And how long has your period lasted?” 
“It started on Tuesday.” 
The nurse looks up from his chart, unimpressed. “So it’s only been a few days.” 
“Yes, but the pain started before that. And this has been happening for—” 
“Are you aware that many women experience period pains before the start of their periods?” 
Your skin feels hot. Frustrated tears threaten to clog your throat, and you fight the urge to bend over to relieve some of the pain in your abdomen. “Yes. I know that.” 
“One a scale from one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” 
“Eight.” Your voice nearly breaks. 
Your nurse pushes out a sigh. “I’m sorry to tell you, but that’s not uncommon either.” He sets down his chart, leveling with you. “Listen, we treat a lot of really sick and hurting people here. We have lots of patients to get to today, so if you think what you’re experiencing could be normal period pain—”
“Excuse me?” The nurse falls silent as Remus pulls aside the curtain, stepping into your little room. You have to shove down the urge to cry just for seeing him. He looks between the two of you, seemingly confused but obviously displeased. “What’s going on?” 
“Hi,” you offer meekly.
Your nurse turns to Remus with a long-suffering look that’s nearly conspiratorial as well. It’s clear he expects to be agreed with. “Doctor Lupin, sorry to waste your time. You’re welcome to check her out, but after an initial interview we’re fairly certain she’s experiencing regular menstrual cramps.” 
Your face flames at his use of we. You hadn’t agreed to any of that. 
“It’s not a waste,” Remus says, clipped. “I asked her to come here, because her menstrual cramps are abnormally severe and prolonged, and I’ve already ordered an ultrasound to find out why. Are you in the habit of deterring our patients from seeking care?” 
Your boyfriend’s tone grows increasingly agitated as he speaks, and you watch with a guilty sort of satisfaction as the blood drains from the nurse’s face. 
When he offers up no answer, Remus’ expression hardens. “I’ve got it from here. Find me later, please.” 
You barely get to see your nurse leave. Remus steps closer to you, eclipsing your view, the anger in your boyfriend’s expression melding into concern.
“Hi, honey.” His hand wraps around your arm. “How is it today?” 
You feel your face crumple under his caring gaze. “A little better,” you manage. 
Remus makes a sympathetic sound, thumb sweeping gently over your skin. “Still nauseous?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Did he ask you to rate your pain?” 
“Mhm.” 
“And what did you say?” 
You shrug. You’re never sure how accurate you are with these scales. “I said an eight. It might be a seven, though, I just” —your voice cracks— “wanted him to believe me.” 
 “Oh, baby.” Remus wraps you up in a hug, cupping your head to his chest. “I’m sorry he treated you that way, sweetheart. It was completely out of order. I’m not going to let it happen to anyone else, I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s okay,” you say tightly. “I’m fine, and it’s not your fault.” 
Remus makes a tsking sound like he doesn’t quite agree. “Why didn’t you tell him you were with me?”
You shrug, a bit bashful. “I didn’t want to, like, name drop you.” 
Remus smiles, shaking his head in astoundment. “You’re absurd.” He gives your cheek a loving hold. His eyes lock on yours, steady and earnest. “We’re going to sort this, alright?”
“Oh, don’t involve me, please. Talk to him after I’m gone.” 
“I mean your cramps,” Remus laughs. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “But yes, after you’re gone.”
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 days ago
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Look Alike
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous (x3)
Warnings: eating disorder, mentions of depression, attempted murder, I didn’t copy the episode exactly so probably some mistakes
Synopsis: an angel is going around killing anyone who is suffering—but what happens when it goes after you?
A/N: this one is kinda heavy guys, so if this is a topic that will trigger you PLEASE do not read it. And please remember—I think you’re beautiful, and always remember to eat something, even if it’s just a snack, even if it’s not “good for you”; eating something just because you like how it tastes is better than not eating anything at all. Love you guys!
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Your fingers fumbled as they retrieved your picture of Mary Winchester, tattered and faded at the edges. You looked from the picture to your own reflection, your heart plummeting.
Your mother had this…this look about her; she was slender and beautiful, but also strong. Strong enough to be a hunter.
You looked at your own reflection again before ducking your head, tucking Mary’s photo back into your wallet.
“Hey kid.” Dean’s voice in your doorway startled you, and you whipped your head around. “Lunch is ready, let’s go…what are you doing in here?”
“Oh, no-nothing,” you muttered, your hands fidgeting. “I’m not that hungry right now, maybe I’ll get something later.”
“Did you eat breakfast?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Um—actually, maybe I will eat now.” you sidestepped his question and his body as you headed for the kitchen. Dean dropped the subject, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were going to have to be more careful about your eating habits—or lack thereof.
Of course Dean had made burgers again. You looked to Sam, hoping he’d made something else, but he was happily chowing down on a huge hamburger—apparently he didn’t mind them if they didn’t come from greasy diners.
You forced yourself not to huff; it was impossible to pretend to eat a burger, so you’d really have to eat this time.
“Here.” Dean pushed a plate at you, and you took it without protest.
You managed to choke down about two bites before Dean got a phone call. He spoke for a few minutes before hanging up and addressing his younger siblings.
“Cas has a case. I’m gonna go check it out.”
“A case?” You put down your burger. “I’ll go pack.”
“I can take this one alone,” Dean assured you.
“Don’t be stupid, I’m coming.” You started for the door, hoping he wouldn’t argue.
“You’re not gonna finish your food?” Sam asked.
“I had enough,” you assured him, and ran off before he could argue.
“So…he exploded.” Dean was staring around at the pink living room, a grimace on his face.
“Yeah. So completely that there’s not a bit of him left that’s bigger than a grain of sand,” a nearby officer said. Once the officer stepped away, Dean spoke to you. “I’m gonna go talk to Cas, see what he can tell me. You should stay at the motel, read up on some things.”
“Ok.” You shrugged. “Call me if you find anything out.”
“Deal.”
“Ephraim.”
“Gazuntite.”
“No, Dean. Ephraim was—is—an angel, his job on the battlefield was to end the suffering of dying angels.”
“End the suffering…let me guess, by blowing them up?” Dean said.
“Unfortunately, yes. It seems that he’s continuing his mission on earth.”
“Yeah, but these people aren’t dying, they just had a bad day.”
“Apparently Ephraim can’t tell the difference between emotional suffering and…”
“And dying?” Dean scoffed. “Cas, this is crazy. Everybody has bad days, this guy is gonna end up wiping out the world.”
“It’s more than just bad days,” Castiel argued. “These people were in serious emotional turmoil. But you’re right—you need to find him.”
“You’re not gonna help?” Dean challenged.
“Dean, I’m just human. There’s nothing I can do.”
You stared at the takeout container that Dean had got you before dropping you off. You couldn’t refuse, you knew he would start to notice if you refused too many meals, but you still didn’t want it.
Your stomach growled, and you cringed. Maybe part of you wanted it.
You pushed the container away, opting instead to don workout clothes—the motel had a gym. You’d never be able to be a hunter like Mary, you’d never be able to keep up with your brothers, if you didn’t workout more.
After an hour on the treadmill, you decided it was time to get back to work. You didn’t want to leave Dean in the lurch when it came to research, even if he hadn’t told you any more information. He got this way when he took you on hunts—determined to do it all alone, not clueing you in on anything.
It’s because you don’t look like a hunter yet.
You swallowed hard. You may not look like a hunter yet, but you would soon enough. You just had to skip a few more meals, go a few more days, and then—just maybe—you could be a good hunter. You would look like Mary did, strong and in shape, and your brothers would trust you more.
You slipped back into your room, going straight for your bag to get your picture of Mary. You held it up for the millionth time, looking from it to the mirror. Your heart sank—you weren’t Mary; maybe you never would be.
Your stomach growled again, and you huffed.
“No,” you told yourself. Your eyes flickered over to the takeout container. You snatched it off the table and threw it into the trash. “No!”
You couldn’t give up now—who cared if you were hungry? Sam and Dean gave up a lifetime of sleep to keep hunting, you could skip some meals to do the same. You had to.
You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying until a few tears dropped onto Mary’s smiling face in your hands.
“Mom,” you whimpered. “Why can’t I just be like you?”
“I can help you.” The voice behind you startled you, and you dropped Mary’s photo, whirling around and reaching for the gun at your waist and.
“Who are you?” You demanded, raising the weapon.
“That won’t do anything to me,” the man insisted. “And you don’t need it. I’m here to help you. You’re suffering, and I’m here to end it.”
“End it?” You took a step back. “You’re the guy we’re after. You’re the one who killed that man, and that teenager.”
“I ended their suffering,” the man continued, stepping towards you. “And I can end yours.”
“It’s not like that!” The gun was shaking in your hands. You didn’t bother to shoot, knowing it wouldn’t help. “I’m not dying!”
“You are,” he argued. “I can heal your hunger, but I cannot make you eat. But the end I will give you will be painless.”
“What are you?” You demanded, taking another step back. Your back hit the sharp edge of a splintered desk, halting your movements.
“I am an angel. My mission is to end suffering. Let me end yours.”
“An angel, huh.” You put your gun down on the desk as if in defeat. While Ephraim kept his attention on your face, you moved your hand down to the splintered edge of the table and slid it across, drawing blood. Dropping your hand out of sight behind the desk, you began to draw an angel banishing sigil.
Ephraim moved before you could blink, grabbing your wrist and twisting it away from the desk.
“Don’t fight it,” he said. “I can help you.” His free hand was suddenly above you, lowering towards your forehead like death’s scythe.
“Hey!” The grip on you was released at the sound of Dean’s voice in the doorway. “Leave her alone!” Dean had his angel blade out and pointed at Ephraim. “You don’t get to just kill people because they’re hurting.”
“That’s exactly what I was made for,” Ephraim argued. “You didn’t even know she was suffering, but I do! And I can fix it!”
“That’s now how you fix it!” Dean thundered. He lunged forward, stabbing at Ephraim with the blade, but the angel side stepped him and flung him into the wall with a single flick of his wrist. The angel blade clattered to the ground, and you once again found yourself face-to-face with the murderous angel.
“Please,” you pleaded. “Look, I know you think you’re doing good. But humans—they hurt sometimes. But we can do better—I can do better—we’re all just doing the best we can.”
“If this is the best that you can do.” Ephraim shook his head. “Then this is what you need.” He stretched out his hand, and your breath caught in your throat.
You jumped back in surprise when Ephraim’s eyes glowed brightly, his jaw hanging open before he slumped to the ground. Dean stood behind him, a bloody angel blade gripped in his hand.
“That’s not what she needs,” he growled almost to himself. Then his eyes were on you. “Are you ok?”
You nodded shakily, taking a deep breath.
“Ok.” Dean dropped the angel blade. “Now what was that about? Why did he think—“
“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes.
“Well what—“ Dean’s voice caught, and you looked up to see him staring at the corner of the room. You followed his gaze, and your stomach dropped. He was staring at the tiny garbage can in the corner, the open and full takeout container fully visible.
“Kid.” Dean swallowed. “When was the last time you ate? And no, that one bite of your burger didn’t count.” Dean’s eyes were on you now, and he petrified you to the spot with his gaze. “I mean when was the last time you really ate?”
“I—um…” your lip quivered and your hands began to fidget. “I’m sorry, Dean.”
“Ok, hey.” Dean pulled you into his arms when you started to cry. “I’ve got you kid.” He pulled away, brushing your tears. “Why are you doing this kid?”
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping at your face. “Dean—“ your voice caught and you choked on a sob.
“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “It’s ok, let’s…let’s go back home, ok? We can talk about it later. Go and wait in the car, I’ll bring the stuff.”
You went to the car without argument, and after you left Dean called Sam.
“Hey,” Dean huffed while he gathered the guns and clothes and tossed them in his bag. “Do you remember the last time you saw Y/N eat? Like, like a full meal.”
“Um…” Sam’s voice came out surprised and hesitant. “No.” Realization hit him. “No, I don’t. Dean, what’s going on?”
“I don’t think she’s eating. Ephraim…Ephraim tried to kill her.”
“I thought you said he only killed people who were…” Sam swallowed. “Who were really broken up, right?”
“Yeah.” Dean stopped packing long enough to clench and unclench his fist. “Yeah. She’s suffering, Sam, and we didn’t even know it. She stopped eating and we didn’t see.”
“Dean…” Dean heard Sam’s deep breath through the phone. “I’m…I’m gonna do some research while you get here. Try and talk to her on the ride home, ok? Maybe…we’ve gotta help her, Dean.”
“I know. We’ll be back in a couple hours.” Dean hung up, taking a deep breath. “Ok,” he said to himself, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a picture in the middle of the floor. He stooped to pick it up—it was Mary, when she wasn’t much older than you. Dean tucked it into his back pocket. “Ok.”
“Hey kid,” Dean greeted as he tossed his bag in the back. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, and you didn’t acknowledge him.
Dean let silence reign as he started up the Impala and headed down the road—he couldn’t force you to talk.
“I just wanted to look like her,” you said suddenly, your head resting against your knees.
Dean turned his head to look at you. “What?”
“Mom. I don’t look like her. She was such a good hunter, and I just wanted to be like that.”
“Kiddo—“ Dean’s voice caught. “Kid, you don’t have to look like her to be a good hunter.”
“But I can’t keep up with you.” You sniffled. “I thought if I looked like her…I could keep up with you.”
“When we were your age, we couldn’t have kept up with us,” Dean argued. “Besides, this isn’t…you don’t become a better hunter by starving yourself, kid.”
Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as your fingers clenched on your jeans, bunching up the fabric before you let it go. When you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know how to stop.”
Dean forced himself to breathe through the pain, taking a moment before offering you a strong smile.
“That’s what we’re here for, kid. Me and Sammy are gonna help you.”
“Hey.” Sam’s hug when you stepped into the bunker was surprising and long. You heard Dean’s huff from behind you, but Sam ignored him.
“Hi.” Your greeting was muffled against Sam’s jacket, and he finally pulled away.
“Ok, so um, I’ve been doing some research, so I’ll show you what I got.” Sam reached behind him, picking up printouts from the internet. “I have a list of foods that are supposed to help, and um, I also made up a schedule—that’s supposed to make it easier—and if there’s any specific food you want me to pick up when I go out you can tell me. Or hey, you can just come with me and pick stuff out and—“
“Hey, dude,” Dean cut in with another huff. “I told you not to freak her out about this.”
“I’m not freaking her out!” Sam’s eyes went back to you. “Wait, am I freaking you out?”
“Um…” you picked at your hands. “It…it’s a lot…”
“We’ll start out small,” Dean insisted. “You want some toast?”
“Bread is good,” Sam piped up, holding up one of the research pages.
“Toast sounds good.” Your lips twitched up even as your eyes filled with tears.
“Hey, ok.” Dean’s arms were around you suddenly. “You got this, ok? We’re right here to help you.”
“Ok,” you sniffled.
Dean pulled away. “Ok. Now let’s get you something to eat, and then Sam can freak you out about everything he read.”
Sam opened his mouth, then closed it.
“I think I can do that,” you sniffled.
“I know you can.” Dean grinned. “Oh, hey—“ Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out your picture of Mary. “This is yours.” You took it with a shaky hand, and when you looked back up Dean was bending down to stare into your eyes. “Hey. You’re just as pretty as mom. And she…she would want you to take care of yourself, ok? And so would dad. And so do we. Kapeesh?”
You threw your arms around Dean.
“Kapeesh,” you told him.
“Ok.” Dean pulled away, reaching up and brushing a stray tear off your face. “Now let’s go get that toast.”
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wonryllis · 8 hours ago
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INTERRUPTING THEM WITH A KISS ✶ 𝒽𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇 & 𝒷𝖺𝖼𝗄
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﹙ ⌕ ﹚ 𝓅𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌 ㅤ𝑜𝑓. enhypen melting into you like it's a habit. contains fem!r, fluff, lots of kissing, pg 15. wc 1657, approximately 0.24k each. check out the d𝒾rectory? stat requested.
──────𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚
lee heeseung swears he's never found anyone or as a matter of fact, anything as annoying as you. you're like a roach up his ass, the bane of his existence. yet when he looks at your cherry stained lips as you crash into him outside the club— he can't deny: that the idea of them against his own doesn't seem half as bad. probably the alcohol, heeseung convinces himself.
"if you don't get off and at least a hundred feet away from me right now, i swea—" and your lips crash into his. intentionally, to get under his skin? accidentally, because of the shots? who cares! heeseung can literally feel the breath leave his lungs as you move your lips against his.
but you pull away before he can do anything,"shut up jer—" and it irks him for some god forbid reason, alcohol again? oh fuck the alcohol! imma kiss that attitude outta her. not even a fraction of second passes before heeseung is grabbing your jaw and pulling you back into a kiss.
you want to breathe? forget it. lee heeseung is not having it anymore. a chance to put you in your place, he's not letting it slip through his fingers. he does not want to.
"you shut up." the tendencies of an enemy with his deepest desires unknown to him; kissable lips on an enemy is the most sinful and irresistible thing ever. probably why you annoyed him.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚
jay's thighs feel warm against your own as you sit still on his lap, his legs shaking subtly while he rambles about some clothes. the tiny smear of vanilla ice cream near the corner of his lower lip, bothering you more and more with the seconds ticking by.
"and then i had to get the pants exchang—" you don't even realize it yourself when you lean in to capture his lips and lick at the sweetness. his own words dying down as he stares down at your face, completely dumbstruck. come on, that's your girlfriend idiot! kiss back! it's probably the twelfth time you both have kissed since you got together three months ago; it's not like he's keeping track of the kisses but... yeah you make him too nervous so, he is.
"b-baby..?" your hands cup his cheeks and he shuts down again. ears burning hot, and lips parted to let you do what you want. if there's one thing jay can't help, it's letting you have your way. whenever, wherever.
it takes him approximately ten seconds to overcome that nervousness and respond to the kiss. mouth closing in on your chocolate flavored lips in a soft and gentle smooch. after smooch. after smooch. the tendencies of a new boyfriend still reeling in; having the girlfriend of your dreams is not something you can get used to just like that.
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡
jake has been hanging out and around you for months now. it should have gotten easier by this time, he thinks. but no, every look, every conversation, every subtle touch feels like it burns hotter than the last time. are these the side effects of a crush? of getting closer to them? or of behaving normally after accidentally pecking? jake checks all the boxes.
"yeah so it's supposed to go like this. did you get i—" jake looks up from the project files on the desk, his voice and his life dropping down to his ass at the touch of your lips on his. what the hell is happening? are you actually? is he dreaming? jake cannot decide on what he should think. kiss back obviously! what's more to think?!
the kiss is short and sweet, and it doesn't satisfy him. hand immediately grabbing your throat to keep you from pulling away as he begins responding to the kiss. lips engulfing yours in a deeper and longer one, like it's the nth time you are kissing. like he's so used to it, like he's addicted?
“what— what was that?” jake pants out, somehow managing to pull away. his demeanor shifting drastically from the one that had just possessed him. the tendencies of a crush finally getting a taste; once you get hooked, there's no going back. not after a kiss uncalled for like that.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡
he has slept once with you, just once sunghoon reminds himself— grounds himself; for he feels way too obsessed with the thought of you for having only had you once in that way. is it normal? probably not. will he do something about it? probably not.
so he acts like normal, tries to. his hands in his pockets as he walks with you to his car, head hanging low even though his eyes keep stealing glances at you while he tells you about his upcoming tournaments. stopping to open the passenger seat door for you, still speaking of his fears of lack of perfectionism.
"there's still parts i need to work extra o—" but instead of getting right in, you get onto your tiptoes and pull him by his collar into a kiss. if a body can function with a disjointed heart, sunghoon swears it's him.
his heart skipping beats in a row and all of a sudden feeling like it's stopped entirely. yet his hands and lips move without a second thought, without waiting for even a millisecond. grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you right back, nibbles and suckles and tongue and everything.
"you'll do well, don't worry too much," the tendencies of a one night stand turned friend; it's probably not the best idea to become buddies with someone you slept with, especially if you want more.
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢
the hallways are crowded as always, loud and bustling, drowning out your and sunoo’s laughs and giggles. talking about anything and everything while you wait for another friend.
sunoo's known you for a few years now, not a lot but enough to know when something's up. “he didn't check it properly and then.. hey? are you oka—” and he notices it on your face a fraction of a moment before you pull him into an abrupt kiss— mid conversation.
frozen, nervous and confused. yet all he thinks is actually how uncannily decent it feels, almost encroaching a feeling way too good. “i’m so sorry sun. i told my ex we are dating and he looked our way when he passed by and i panicked—” sunoo shushes you all too quickly, regretting not having kissed back properly.
“i get it, we can pretend. i don't mind it,” he doesn't know what comes over him as he proposes the idea, but he definitely expects to get into situations like these. why? he has no clue. he just wants it.
“everything you need to do to convince him, i’m all in,” his gaze trails over your lips, leaning closer unintentionally. another kiss right in the middle of the hallway. the tendencies of a friend offering to help in a non friendly way; fake dating a friend you feel like you could possibly develop feelings for is like digging your own grave.
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡
four months, seventeen days, twelve hours and probably thirty-six minutes. jungwon’s counting with all he has. this relationship, or whatever is going on between you two; beyond friends and bordering lovers, is bugging him down to his core. it's eating away at him.
“you just called me your friend,” leaning against the elevator wall, hands in his pockets, jungwon tries to behave— be as nonchalant as he can. jealousy? what's that? look me in the eyes and tell me i'm just a friend look.. no he isn't looking at you like that. snap out of it yang jungwon!
“you really think i’m just a friend? after all that we have don—” two steps closer, bodies pressed, eyes locked and your kiss that shuts him up. oh to hell with being normal with you. your hands slide around the back of his neck and his words die down against your lips like kissing you is his second nature.
“boyfriend? you want that label?” the mumbles against his lips, the sound of your soft breaths and the taste of your lipbalm, it's like jungwon is high.
“again.” catching your lower lip between his in a languid nibble. he can't help but keep wanting to kiss you, the ding of the elevator drowned out behind all his thoughts of you. the tendancies of a situationship with obvious feelings; being friendzoned by your girlfriend-to-be gets you jealous, he'll admit it now.
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜
friends. friends. friends. riki chants internally, again and again. and again. poopy diaper, runny nose, screeching tantrums— he thinks everything unpleasant about you, everything he possibly can. childhood friends ripping each other's hair out, neighbours annoying each other across the bedroom windows, classmates snitching out on each other's crushes. everything that's just friends.
nothing more. never— impossible. riki soothes himself, his mind and heart still jumbling all around after your question earlier, ‘what if we kissed?’ disgusting! right? he's not sure if he's answering or questioning his sanity.
and though the conversation is stirred clear of the topic, both of you nestled on your bedroom floor talking about club applications; his eyes staring right at you, seeming as unfazed as ever, his psychological state is nowhere near willing to calm down.
“what do you think about the drama clu—” your lips don't last even a second on his, before he is pushing you away, like he's allergic to kisses.
“w-what are you doing!” riki exclaims, fingers rubbing over his mouth,”i told you earlier,” and then slowly reaching forward to brush them against yours as he leans back in, involuntarily he insists. “i know but this is, so weird.. i’m not supposed to like it,” soft mumbles and lips grazing. the tendencies of a lifelong friend crossing an improbable line. locking lips with your childhood friend just for a ‘what if’ is the worst plan ever, or maybe not so much.
taglist 。open! @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @enhabooks @criminalyun @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp
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vettelsvee · 3 days ago
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YOU'RE NOT HANNA, AND NEVER WILL BE HER | Sebastian Vettel
history series main masterlist | requests here!
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red bull sebastian vettel x reader, nico rosberg x reader
word count: 6588
summary: 2010 german gp post race party has many things in store for seb and y/n, who finally do what they both been willing to do for a long time even they're dating hanna prater and nico rosberg
warnings: everything related to gender-based violence (main trigger warning to physical and mental abuse) from nico to y/n (reminder that everything you read on my blog is fiction), curse words, "cheating", mentions of suicide and cancer
a/n: i'm quite scared and happy at the same time to be posting this fic because it's one of my favourite parts ever on history series, but still has me so worried you might not like it because of all the topics (and because history series was originally posted on wattpad and not many people liked it but don't let anyone know that pls). anyways, let me know your thoughts on this one and request anything you might like if you want pls! i'll probably be posting tomorrow another part since my town is currently on high risk alert of floods and we've been told not to leave home. let me remind you that comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! thank you so much <3
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© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
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2010 Hockenheim   German Grand Prix  
You paused for a moment in front of the bathroom mirror as Valentina finished your makeup. You leaned forward to get a better look, but the your woman followed your movements with perfect synchronization and, surprisingly, without messing it all up.
Your own reflection was completely unrecognizable to you. In front of you stood a beautiful, self-assured Y/N, looking like someone who possibly had a life that, while not perfect, seemed enviable.
You feared that a simple layer of makeup could make you feel completely different from reality. It was as if all your problems had suddenly vanished, and instead had in front of you a superwoman admired by everyone, not a twenty-something whose life was falling apart.
Valentina Martínez, the girl standing beside you with whom you’d had the opportunity to become closer, was one of the Mercedes catering managers and, also, exactly the complete opposite of you. Valentina had a beauty that everyone could admire and a confidence that many, including yourself, would love to have. She could lift others' spirits with just a smile and a few words that, while not wise, were good enough to make sense.
The Argentine radiated the kind of magic you felt you lacked.
So, when Valentina’s gaze fell on yours as you continued to admire how beautiful you felt.
“Come on, Y/N!” Valentina shouted, stepping away from you and starting to bounce on her feet. “I know this isn’t your thing, but I swear you look incredibly hot.”
“Valentina…”
“None of that,” she interrupted, “you need a bit more confidence. I don’t know how you don’t have it with Nico already. He’s totally worth it!”
As Valentina’s smile grew wider, you sighed and lowered your head. You thanked her as calmly as you could for trying to transfer some of her positivity, though you knew it was somewhat of a show Valentina put on for everyone and wasn’t doing anything particularly special for you.
That was what you liked least about her: Valentina was so well-liked and appreciated by everyone that, somehow, she always played the same role, regardless of who she was with.
“I don’t know why I’m going to a party I definitely don’t want to go to,” you confessed with honesty.
Today’s race had been quite tough, and although the strategies were solid, they didn’t seem to deliver the expected results when Seb only managed to get bronze in his home race. That’s why all you wanted to do at that moment was order a good room-service dinner and eat it under the bed sheets while watching some low-budget TV show before trying to get some sleep.
"You know that stepping out of our comfort zone is the best thing," Valentina said, moving closer to you and gently taking your hands. "Besides, you're doing this for Nico," she insisted. "Remember: he's your boyfriend, and it's your duty to make him happy."
You smiled shyly even though, deep down, you shivered a bit at the tone Valentina seemed to be using with you. It was as if she wanted those last words, it's your duty to make him happy, to penetrate your mind and stay there. You tried to ignore it, as it was probably your own insecurities taking over. And, in some way, you knew Valentina wasn’t wrong. She was aware that you needed to stop being so perfectionistic and rigid, and maybe start letting yourself go a little bit more.
"You're right, yeah," you finally said. "Thanks for everything."
Without saying anything else, you left Valentina’s room to head back to your own, just a couple of doors away, not without first gathering the clothes you had been wearing earlier while your friend continued getting ready.
As you took out your room card from the small purse hanging from your shoulder and swiped it to enter, you started feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. However, the moment Nico Rosberg, your boyfriend, came out to greet you and looked you up and down, hands on his hips, all of it disappeared.
"Are you seriously going out dressed like that?" he asked, completely incredulous, pointing at your dress. "You look like a slut."
You were speechless, though part of you wanted to say everything she was feeling. Once again, fear caused you to shrink back, cautious about your actions and the possible consequences. The tone he had used on you was filled with anger and, above all, disappointment. You knew that nothing good would come from answering, so instead you held back everything you wanted to say to him.
“Nico, it's just a dress…” you tried to explain as calmly as possible, not really knowing how to make him see reason without losing your composure.
He stepped closer, and his eyes filled you with nothing but fear. You could swear that, in his fury, the bluish hue of his eyes had turned an orange-red, like fire; his pupils, fully dilated, were what sent you into internal panic.
“I don’t give a damn fuck if it’s just a dress,” he mocked you. “I don’t want you going out like that. You know there’ll be consequences.”
Be careful how you act with me, he had told you one day when you said you weren't in the mood to go out to have dinner. Since then, though you had realized many things he did to you, you’d also started to act with caution and rationality, knowing that blows could come at any moment.
You’d even considered that there was a remote possibility that you might be the one to end things, especially every time you recalled every single insult he used to hurl at you whenever you misbehaved, which had only increased in frequency in recent weeks, following your father’s death and your trip with Seb to your hometown for the funeral.
But, most especially, when the Red Bull Racing driver stayed a few days with you because he was absolutely worried about your mental health getting worse.
A lump formed in you throat as a few tears began to fall freely down your face, ruining the makeup your friend had taken so much time to apply and had turned out so well.
“If you don’t change your clothes right now and put on something that makes you look like a decent person…” He threatened, moving closer with his hand raised. “Think carefully, Y/N: I don’t want to go crazy, but I think you're forcing me to.”
You couldn’t let fear paralyze you at least, not now, as you felt his hand inching closer to your body. Another physical mark that would eventually fade, but another one that would leave a psychological one permanently.
"Please, Nico, don’t do this…” you begged, completely desperate by this point, but trying not to show it. “You said you loved me just the way I am and…”
“I just can’t believe you’re so stubborn! Don’t you get that I don’t want you going out dressed like some desperate girl who clearly wants to fuck with everyone?!” he yelled, filled with rage.
You backed up as much as you could until your back hit one of the surrounding walls. You had encountered this version of Nico before: no matter how hard you tried to reason with him, he would manipulate you until you ended up thinking it was entirely your own fault.
“Please, Nico, don’t shout. I don’t want anyone to hear us…”
“They’ll hear us if that’s what you deserve for wanting to embarrass me,” he shouted again, even more furious.
You knew the tension had reached its peak and that, from there, things would only worsen. 
Nico kept yelling at you. With your eyes squeezed shut and your hands pressed over your ears, waited for the familiar sensation of one of his limbs landing on any part of your body he fancied at that moment.
“Oh, so now you have the nerve to ignore me?”
When you heard him clearly again and saw his hand raise, you somehow found the courage to turn away and quickly slip into the bathroom, forgetting to lock the door in your haste.
“Open up right now!” he screamed.
While he pounded on the door, his yelling relentless, you leaned against the farthest wall, as if he might burst in at any moment. 
It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. 
You gasped for air in a place where there seemed to be none, your hand instinctively clutching your chest as if to shield your heart, which felt like it might burst out at any moment. You had learned to live with anxiety and panic, and both emotions had reached a point where they didn’t control each other but had fused, learning to coexist together with you.
“Nico… I’ll change my clothes,” you said, still crying, your voice choking. “I’m sorry, really,” you lied, trying to sound as convincingly as you could. “But please… don’t hurt me.”
Not again.
Your whispers seemed to have reached him because his pounding and labored breathing quieted. You hoped that the situation had calmed, and it seemed like it had.
He didn’t answer immediately, instead giving you enough time to remove the ruined makeup from your face and apply just a little mascara. A few minutes passed, enough time for you to relax and consider the possible outcomes of what might happen next, before he coldly demanded that you open the door.
You emerged and collided with his chest. Forcing yourself to look up at him, all you could see was contempt.
“Once again, you’ve disappointed me,” he stated without a hint of hesitation. “No wonder why lots of shit happens to you and people treat you so poorly. I was wrong to judge Vettel: he was right to treat you that way, and he should’ve done even more to you.”
All you could do was lower your gaze and head toward your suitcase on the floor, trying to pick something that would be ok with Rosberg’s dress code while reminding yourself that Seb did things quite bad, but he seemed to be truly sorry and apologized many times to you. The beautiful red dress, strapless and embellished across the chest, falling just above your knees, had to be replaced by another dress of the same color, but one that reached your ankles, with a much higher neckline and looser fit, so as not to highlight your nearly nonexistent curves.
“Happy now?” you asked, with as much disdain as you dared, even knowing he might match your face to her outfit.
“If you behaved like a responsible adult, yes,” he muttered as he opened the door and took your hand forcefully. “Sometimes I forget you’re only twenty-two and you have a lot to learn about life.”
Did he really know more about life than you did after all you had to go through?
That thought lingered in your mind throughout the journey, from their floor’s hallway to where the party was held, including the elevator ride where they encountered Mark Webber and a journalist from Sky Sports Germany, Eloise Schimdt. During the conversation between the four of them, though you remained silent, you had to pretend that everything was fine, even as your insides felt like they were shattering further.
As they entered the venue, the music, louder than she liked, started to throb in your ears. Your eyes opened wide to adjust to the dim lights from the spotlights, and, as you always did when in a public place with Nico, you began scanning the scene in detail.
There were more people than the space could comfortably hold. The dance floor was packed with people moving energetically, glasses in hand with the sole mission of keeping the alcohol from spilling. The bar was just as crowded, and in the center, across from shelves stocked with every type of liquor imaginable, she spotted Kimi, Fernando and Jenson with their respective partners, chatting animatedly.
But your eyes didn’t seem to waste any time and ended up settling on the guy standing a bit farther away from the others.
Sebastian was leaning back against the bar, tapping his left hand on it to match the rhythm of the song playing. In his other hand he held a glass of what she assumed was, possibly, a Jägerbomb, his favorite drink and, to him, a must-have for parties like this. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans with those Geox trainers he always wore, and his hair was completely tousled.
In that moment, you felt utterly captivated by him, and you were sure you would have dared to talk to him if his eyes hadn’t been fixed on Hanna. The blonde girl was a few steps in front of him, dancing seductively without caring where she was or who might be watching her.
You couldn’t help but wish, at that moment, to be her.
You shook off those conflicting thoughts as soon as Nico grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, snapping you out of your trance, to head toward the bar.
"Give me a Martini," he said abruptly to the bartender, "and some water for her. She’s a bit dizzy," he lied to stop you from drinking, as he often did every time you went out.
"A Jägerbomb if you can, please," you ended up telling the guy behind the bar with your best smile.
You completely ignored the words and looks Nico was giving you. Instead, you just flashed your best smile at the bartender, who kept looking at you with concern, along with the rest of the people who weren’t too intoxicated yet and had overheard your boyfriend’s words.
"I can’t believe you’re drinking again… Can’t you control yourself or what?" he snapped.
He pulled you aggressively close, and you tried you best to ignore his words, spoken in a threatening tone directly into your ear, while you took your drink from the bar, along with his, and offered it to him.
Surrounded by people, you felt a bit safer than usual. He wouldn’t be able to hurt you, at least not physically, in front of everyone here… His reputation would be ruined, and Nico Rosberg was too proud to allow that.
So you didn’t stay silent.
"Nico, leave me alone for a few hours, please," you replied, ignoring his comments. "I’m here to enjoy the party you were so insistent on coming to, not to get scolded for wanting to have fun with you."
"Damn it, Y/N!" he expressed in frustration. "Do you always have to ruin everything or what?"
You just lifted your glass to avoid spilling your drink and walked towards the dance floor, leaving Rosberg behind, hurling insults you decided to ignore.
As soon as you found yourself among the crowd, greeting familiar faces with a friendly smile, you let yourself get carried away by the rhythm of the music. Tonight your shyness seemed nonexistent, and you could only thank the alcohol for giving you the confidence you had lost. You started to lose track of time as you danced, and though you didn’t know how, each move helped free you from the intrusive thoughts of loneliness and worthlessness, of feeling like nothing more than a mere object, which had crowded your mind at a dizzying speed.
You knew that mixing liquor with the energy drink that funded your lifestyle was only a temporary fix and that, once the effects wore off, your life would return to the completely chaotic state you had come to deserve.
Suddenly, the music stopped, as did the bodies moving on the dance floor. A spotlight focused on the stage, where Seb stood, microphone in hand and swaying. There was no doubt that he was drunk.
His swaying body made it clear that he had no idea what he was doing and that, at some point, he would end up regretting something.
"Sorry, sorry!" he said into the microphone. "But I feel like making a little pause in this party we’ve got going tonight because I want to sing a song to someone I care about a lot."
You began to feel terrible as Vettel gestured to the DJ for the music he wanted. A few seconds later, the first chords of Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars was the only sound echoing in the room.
"Babe, this song is for you, and I want you to know how much you mean to me!"
You could see Hanna smiling broadly and shrugging. You wanted to leave to cry again at the beautiful scene unfolding in front of you, of which you definitely weren’t the main character.
Was it too soon to say that the boy you were in love with dedicating a song to his girlfriend hurt worse than any blow your current boyfriend had ever given you?
Yes, it was clear. Possibly, the alcohol had already taken too strong a hold, and you could no longer control what you said or thought.
You know I'd never ask you to change  
If perfect's what you're searching for  
Then just stay the same  
So don't even bother asking if you look okay
You felt confused and didn’t know what to do, but Sebastian’s voice, trembling and making his English accent sound more German than usual, had you completely captivated.
So did Prater's reaction when the German shifted his gaze from her to you.
“This is for you,” he said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. “I know you know who you are, and I want you to know it’s all for you, and that you deserve the absolute best.”
When I see your face  
There is not a thing that I would change  
'Cause you're amazing  
Just the way you are  
And when you smile  
The whole world stops and stares for a while  
'Cause, girl, you're amazing  
Just the way you are
You noticed Hanna moving to your side, visibly confused and clearly uncomfortable with what was happening.
“Y/N…”
She couldn’t say anything else, nor could you to her. As much as you wished to be Hanna, you couldn’t help feeling sorry for her at the strong possibility that her boyfriend was confessing his feelings to another girl right in front of her.
Or, at least, that’s what the alcohol led you to believe.
“I want you to know that, from the first moment I saw you, you’ve been in my heart,” Seb admitted, his words drawn out, uncaring about the reactions of those around them, especially his girlfriend’s or yours. “Right now, I can’t have what I want most, but I want you to know that being with you is the only wish I’ve made, and the one I’ll keep making on my birthday, until we can finally be together.”
That was the last straw. As quickly as she could, trying in vain to hold back tears and avoid drawing attention, Hanna left, thoroughly embarrassed, muttering something you couldn’t catch. Seb's voice still echoed in your ears, but you tried to ignore it because you couldn’t believe what had just happened.
Lost in thoughts, you moved as far away as you could, trying not to stumble. Then, you made your way to the bar to order another drink, as if that might somehow make you forget what had just happened.
Just before you could exchange words with the bartender who had already served you so many drinks that night, you felt someone take your wrist, though this time much more gently. You knew it wouldn’t be Nico; when you turned around and saw Seb, however, you were even more surprised.
Your eyes met, and butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. Once again, you felt at home and safe, though deep down, you were only afraid.
Without saying a word, he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.
In that moment, you felt everything fade away. You let yourself go, unafraid of who might be watching or what might happen next. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss… your first kiss. 
Slowly, calmly, and, as you felt, full of affection, you stayed that way until you both needed air.
You felt that you had both been waiting for this moment for so long and, in a way, you deserved it, turning a simple gesture of affection into something unique and special, caring little about your partners or your sobriety.
Seb pulled back, his hands still resting on you, and your gazes shared in complicity about what had just happened. You knew he was happy but confused, just as you were. You didn’t know what to say, and knowing he didn’t either, you simply gave him a shy smile to let him know everything was okay, that he could do that a thousand times more from now on.
“Y/N…”
“What is it, Seb?”
You wanted him to tell you he loved you, that he’d left Hanna, and that he wanted you to be his new girlfriend, the love of his life.
But, instead, Seb looked at you and left you, once again, speechless:
“You’re not Hanna… and never will be her...”
After he said that, you felt nothing but your breath slipping away and the sensation of fainting.
You wanted to tell him everything you felt at that moment, but his words had hit you so hard that they only increased your confusion and pain.
All you could do was stare at him, likely making a fool of yourself with the amount of tears clouding your vision. Silence took over, and when you finally found the strength to speak, trying to hide the pain you knew your voice would show, he turned away without even saying goodbye.
"How the hell could you do that, Y/N?! You have no shame! You humiliated me in front of everyone. Kissing Sebastian like you don't care about your boyfriend... now I see what you're really up to."
You didn't have time to say anything or leave because Rosberg came running towards you, grabbing your arm with a force you'd never seen in him. It hurt, and your scream, which was more of a complaint from the pain than a surprise, was a way of expressing how much you were hurting, not just from the tight grip, but also from the shake he'd just given you.
"Nico, please, calm down..." you tried to calm him, not wanting to embarrass yourself. Some people were already looking at you, and you wished Earth would swallow you up. "It was just..."
"Don't play innocent!" he shouted too loudly. "You thought I wouldn't find out?! I saw you kissing that piece of shit who only wants to fuck you until he's bored of you," he said, referring to Seb. "Now everyone here knows what you really are: a whore! And I'm glad, Y/N… You have no idea how glad I am."
The music suddenly stopped blasting, but your boyfriend's anger didn’t.
"Nico... I love you, really," you tried to speak. "It was just a moment of weakness..."
The moment of weakness was exactly what you were feeling now, making him believe you were truly in love with him when, in fact, you were only staying in the relationship because you were afraid your reputation wouldn’t make it out alive. 
"You say you love me? Don't make me laugh! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t act like this."
You wanted to tell him that you thought the same about him, but you held back, paralyzed again by the fear that your mind was processing all the bad things that could happen.
"Nico, come on. You don’t have to act like this. We can talk about this civilly."
As you saw Edward, Vettel’s personal trainer, appear, and pull Nico a bit away from you, a little peace returned to your body. You gave him a grateful look, to which he just answered by nodding.
"You don’t have to get involved, Eddie!" your boyfriend shouted. "Stay out of our fucking business!"
"You know you don’t have to treat her like this," he said seriously.
"She’s a whore, can't you see it?" Nico spat, pointing at you. "Disgusting little girl..."
"Nico, I understand you're angry," Patterson spoke again, after the German’s words, "but neither of you is in a state to talk about this, and this is not the right place," he said, referring to the curious looks around them.
You could only constantly whisper for them not to fight anymore, while deep down you prayed to take you away from all of this and bring you back to the hotel.
"I don’t care what you say," Eddie started. "I'm taking Y/N. I don’t think being here is the best thing for her."
After saying that, he stood behind you and guided you, putting his hand on your back, toward his car. At that moment, your desperation was so great that you didn’t even think about whether he was in any condition to drive.
The way back to the hotel, less than ten minutes away, felt eternal.You hadn’t drunk much because you didn’t like it, but not being used to it was enough for a couple of curves and a badly taken roundabout to make you gag and feel like vomiting.
Slowly, the shock began to set in, and you started to act on autopilot mode, following the directions of the man accompanying you, except when he told you it would be best for you to sleep in his room that night.
You didn’t know why, but that set off alarms in your confused brain. The last thing you wanted was to add fuel to the fire by sleeping with another man who wasn’t your boyfriend just to protect you.
"Thanks for everything, Eddie, really, but I think it would be best if I went back to my room to sort things out with Nico."
The Brit didn’t seem to agree with you.
"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but I don’t think it’s best for you to share space with him tonight," he was honest.
"I just want to talk to him and try to put an end to this," you insisted, still knowing you weren't right.
"And I understand you, really, but right now everything is too fresh, and the best thing is for you to rest and let the drunkenness wear off," he said, placing one of your arms over his shoulders. "Come on, I’ll take you to my room."
You decided not to argue anymore because it would be in vain, so you let yourself be guided while he lectured you about how you shouldn’t be intimidated by Nico and how you deserved someone better than him after what had happened at the club that night.
"Edward, Y/N. Good night, guys."
You lifted your gaze and saw another Brit. Jenson was standing in front of you, coming out of the elevator you were about to take. You were greatly surprised that he wasn’t with his girlfriend, but didn’t want to get involved; your alcohol-soaked self, however, wanted to gossip.
"Where are you two going?" he asked, crossing his arms and blocking the elevator doors so they couldn’t pass.
"I’m... taking Y/N to my room," Eddie revealed, stammering a bit for no clear reason. "She’s had a rough time, and it’s best that she doesn’t see Nico’s face tonight."
"And you think the best thing is that you take her to your room?"
Button’s features went from relaxed to a kind of aggression you had never seen in him. It’s not like you had spent much time or had many conversations together, but you knew the situation you were now involved in wasn’t what you had thought it was.
Edward Patterson stayed completely silent.
"Do you want me to call someone to be with you?" Jenson asked you directly, giving you no other option. "Y/N," he insisted again, "who do you want me to call to stay with you tonight?"
"Britta… please," you said as best as you could despite your discomfort.
To your surprise, while Jenson dialed the phone number of the woman you now considered your friend, Eddie let go of you and reluctantly pushed the driver, still leaning against the elevator frame, to leave. He didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to you, something that seemed to upset Button quite a bit.
"Hello, is this Britta?" Jenson began, speaking into the phone. "Great, yes. It’s Jenson. I’m with Y/N, and she asked if you could help her," he started explaining. "I don’t know much about what happened, except that she’s not feeling well and needs help from someone she really trusts," he clarified.
After exchanging a few more words, Jenson led you back to the lobby, where Britta appeared just a few minutes later in a bathrobe, espadrilles, and her hair tied up in a completely unusual way. You had never seen Roeske like that, and all you could do was laugh.
"Come on, let’s go already," Britta said, linking her arm with yours as if you were two old ladies heading to bingo. "This is how I want to see you: laughing, not crying."
When Britta opened the door to her room, you immediately ran and threw yourself onto the bed. Your whole body hurt, and you weren’t sure if it was from the emotions of the night or because the alcohol was hitting its peak.
Whatever it was, you knew perfectly well that lying completely still, face up, and counting the total number of tiles on the ceiling, pointing at them one by one with one eye closed and your tongue sticking out was what was making your hostess laugh.
"Come on, Y/N, get up," Britta asked gently. "Do you mind if I help you get changed? It’s time to put on your pajamas."
You nodded as you sat up and moved to the foot of the bed.
Next, Britta unzipped the dress, and you noticed how she averted her gaze to give you some privacy while offering a nightgown.
"Right now, I’d love for Seb to be the one undressing me to fuck me. God... how I’d love Seb to make me scream now..."
Had you said that out loud?
"What did you just say?"
Britta’s muffled shout and the tone in which she asked, while turning her back without caring whether you had already put the garment on, making you realize that yes, you had said that out loud.
Your first time being drunk was going to be, definitely, a night to remember. Now, you just felt like saying those kinds of things, and you didn’t care at all about having a boyfriend… if he could even be called that.
"Oh…" you said, stretching the last syllable. "Didn’t you know it?"
"Know what?"
By the tone of voice, it seemed Britta thought it was related to the sudden thing you had said.
"Seb and I kissed," you told her, starting to laugh like a lovesick teen.
"This is the alcohol on you, I’m sure of it," Britta said, running to get a wet towel and starting to wipe it across your face. "You mean you and Nico kissed," she tried to correct you. "Seb is dating Hanna, and you’re dating Nico, remember?"
You started shaking your head constantly, about to collapse to the floor. A laugh started escaping you as you couldn’t control it.
"No, no, no, no," you denied while also wagging your finger. "Seb and I kissed. Nico’s an asshole."
"Y/N, you really should go to sleep, you’re not..."
"Of course I’m fine!" you said enthusiastically, getting up from the bed and standing in front of Britta.
The truth was that you only felt fine because of the effect alcohol was having on you. If it wasn’t for that, you would be crawling on the floor crying because you knew you had reached a point where you couldn’t pretend your life was perfect anymore.
"Do you really not believe me when I say that not only did Seb kiss me, but it was the best kiss of my life?"
You knew you were putting Britta in a tough spot, especially considering that the woman was probably closer friends with Hanna than with you.
"And Hanna?" Britta demanded to know. "Was she there, or had she left?"
"Oh, she was there?" you tried to pretend the best you could, using expressions that clearly showed otherwise. "I didn’t know..."
Before you could continue speaking, Britta ran to grab her phone and started making calls. You sat back down, crossing your legs and swaying while watching the blonde desperately cursing in German, since none of the contacts she called were answering.
It was possible that Seb and Hanna were busy, probably having sex. Your drunk self only wished she was in Hanna’s place.
"The only ones who tell the truth are kids and drunks, you know?"
Britta stared at you after those words. It seemed like you needed to say that phrase to make her believe you.
"Are you serious...?" Britta asked.
"What, Britta?" you insisted, urging her to speak.
"Did you really kiss Sebastian?"
You nodded.
"Yes," you confirmed. "Well, I mean, he was the one who took my face and kissed me," you corrected yourself. "Do I owe anyone something, like he owes Hanna?"
You were getting a bit defensive, and you knew it was making Britta nervous.
"Yes! You owe Nico, your boyfriend," Britta replied, giving you a harsh dose of reality.
"I don’t want Nico," you confessed. "At least, not in the way I think I should. He... I don’t know, Britta. I think he’s what I deserve. I try to understand why, but I know that his insults and those things he says to me make me a better person somehow."
You could see Britta go pale. Also, you were starting to feel worse; after all, it was the first time you had opened up about your feelings to someone since the journal Seb gifted you for your birthday last didn’t count as a personal therapist.
Britta usually had words for everything, but that day, you seemed to have left her speechless.
"Y/N..." Britta began, carefully choosing her words. "You’re a good person. You’re just scared."
"Maybe," you replied, trying not to make it a big deal. "And you, are you scared?"
"Of course. Everyone’s afraid of something."
"I’m afraid of being alone," you admitted, lowering your head because you were starting to cry again for the umpteenth time that day. "And I’m afraid of losing Nico. I know no one will ever love me, not better or worse, than he does."
Britta didn’t know what to say, and you felt bad for having to be in her room, drunk, sad, while your “friend” was putting up with you, possibly mediating between her client and her client’s partner.
That’s why you made a move to leave. Fortunately, Britta wouldn’t let you.
"Sit down, Y/N, and let it all out," Britta demanded.
And that’s exactly what you did. You told Britta everything, not just about what had happened since you started dating your current boyfriend, but about your entire life. Living with a mentally sick mother after her accident, her subsequent suicide, their move to Barcelona. Her father’s cancer and how it had worsened in less than two years. All the things Rosberg had said and done to you, even forcing you to do certain stuff you were clearly uncomfortable with.
You cried like you never had before when you told Britta about your first time, reluctantly, on a luxury yacht in Monaco’s seas, and how it gave you nightmares almost every night to the point where she was scared to fall asleep.
You could tell that Britta was truly worried when you started biting your lower lip, and a little tic appeared in your right eye.
"Have you talked to anyone about this?"
"Do you know I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her?"
You were fully aware that you had just avoided answering a crucial question, but you didn’t care at all. You were tired of talking about your burdens and your current life; from now on, you would focus entirely on your future and try to solve and finish once and for all all the problems that made your life a mess.
"But what are you saying, Y/N?" Britta asked, desperate.
"That’s exactly what I would have liked to ask Seb, but he left and Nico messed things up," you revealed, stretching your arms out and pointing to the marks, now red, that were the same shape and size as Mercedes’ driver’s fingers. "Great, yeah," you said ironically.
"But..."
"Do you think if I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her, I might have a chance to date Seb?"
Your question left Britta speechless again, unable to find the words. As Britta struggled to speak, you started playing with your fingers. Giving up, you laid on the bed, your back to Britta, clutching a pillow with the clear intention of falling asleep.
"Why are you telling me this?" Britta asked in a whisper, almost with... pity.
"Because I want Seb," you revealed, letting out a sob because, at last, you had been able to confront and reveal your confusing feelings for a guy who didn’t love you, and never would. "I’m in love with Seb, and it hurts knowing he’ll never love me back, and I know I’ll have to move on sooner or later."
Britta was about to speak, but you took the words from her before she could.
"Before you say anything else, take advantage of me and ask me anything you want: I’m a bit drunk because I’m not used to drinking."
You could tell Britta sighed, likely having lost all patience with you.
"You know... you know that Seb...?"
But then Britta stopped talking. You stood there for a while, staring at the red curtains that covered the window, waiting for the woman to continue. When she didn’t, you turned around:
"You know exactly what about Seb, Britta?" you asked, adjusting yourself on the bed, still hugging the pillow.
"Seb and you need to talk," Britta told you, leaving you speechless. "And when you do that, I’m convinced that you’re going to live the life you both deserve."
"But..."
Britta started to lie you down on the bed again, tucking you in under the linen sheets. Your yawns became more frequent, and after she kissed your forehead just like her mother used to do before your life was destroyed, your eyelids grew heavy.
"I know you won’t remember this tomorrow," Britta’s voice flooded your ears as you curled up into yourself. "But, to Seb, it’s more than obvious that you’re not Hanna and you’ll never be… And that’s exactly why that stupid, but incredible guy, has fallen truly, madly, deeply, in love with you."
You couldn’t tell if Britta’s words were already a dream, or if Morpheus was pulling you into his arms. 
"The day you stop doubting your worth, the world will be at your feet, Y/N. Sebastian has been telling me that and his closest people since you two spent the night together the day before his maiden win in Monza."
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heesimp · 2 days ago
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tasty (teaser) - heeseung
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summary: it’s not your week and it doesn’t seem like the semester will ease up on you as time flies by, but your best friend is here to help in more ways than one.
word count estimate: 5.6K (891 for the teaser)
notes: let me know if you want to be tagged :) this is based off of a request an anon sent, so thank you anon! I’ll probably post it tonight or tomorrow. xx
warnings: reader touches herself, porn mentions, vibrator mention, phone sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talking, mentions of heeseung with other girls, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.
posted!
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Heeseung isn’t shy about physical touch with you or anyone else. He’s the kind of guy girls feel comfortable around with just a few words spoken and you’ve always envied the way Heeseung can talk his way through anything. People love him, girls want to fuck him, and guys want to be like him. There’s a part of you that wishes you could exude the same aura that your best friend does but, unlike him, you cower at any chance of interaction and can’t seem to get anyone to be interested in you the way you’re interested in them. Heeseung has heard your fair share of love debacles whereas it seems like romance is presented to him with the snap of a finger. 
It isn’t that you haven’t had experiences with sex and dating, but they haven’t been worthwhile. So far, nobody has been memorable enough to keep in your backpocket for days like this, when you need a hot and erotic memory to come in an instant. It feels impossible to find guys who know what they’re doing when a woman is presented in front of them. Guys are so lucky because it takes next to nothing to get them hard and get them off. 
And like, your best friend has had his fair share of hookup stories that leave you wetter than a goddamn fountain. He’s not shy about skimping the details because he’s seen you cry snot since kindergarten and you’ve seen him eat shit on bicycles since elementary school. Sex isn’t off the table. You just don’t have anything to contribute and he doesn’t judge you for it. You aren’t really keen on telling him about all of the bad experiences you’ve had when he talks about how mind blowing sex for him is. Part of you is envious that your best friend has never had one bad day of sex in his life. Allegedly. 
Still, this frustration bubbles up and there’s nothing you can do to quell the way you feel. Perhaps it’s a mix of general life stress and the events leading up to this very moment. The entire day felt like a test to your patience as minor inconveniences piled up on top of one another before your breaking point. You thought your vibrator sitting uncharged was your last straw but it seems like your mind isn’t clear enough to focus on getting off. You recall a few unread text messages from Heeseung and open your shared text thread with him and watch all of the funny TikTok videos and tweets he sends you. You’re missing him right now. 
Heeseung answers after one ring. 
“Back from the dead, I see. What’s up?” 
You huff. “Nothing.” You hear him laughing from the other line. The faint sound of his keyboard clicking echoes in your ears. 
“Can’t be nothing. You always call me when you need to tell me something.” 
“Not true.”
“Y/N, you and I both know you prefer to talk on the phone when you have something important you need to say so neither of us ends up sending long voice memos.” Okay, he’s got you there. “So begs the question: What’s up?”
“Well I called you because I’m bored. Happy?”
Heeseung laughs again. You’re sure he can hear your disdain. “It’s a good thing I know how to deal with your attitude, huh? Since you’re bored, I’ll have you know you’re calling me while I’m playing with the guys.”
“What, no girl to hook up with?” 
“Not tonight, princess.” 
“How sad.” 
“If you must know why, I had a pretty long day at work but I’m fine now. Jake’s ass keeps dying so that’s pretty funny.” You don’t say anything, not right away. Not when you realize you called him in a haste and that you’re naked except for a tank stop and dainty white socks. The realization makes your cheeks heat up as you think about it, even though Heeseung can’t see what you’re wearing. “You good? You’re unusually quiet, especially when you give me attitude.” That makes you roll your eyes.
“You know, it’s unfair that all you have to do to get off is brush your hand against your dick.”
“Where’s this coming from? You don’t really talk about sex. Is everything alright?”
“It’s unfair!” He hears you groan in frustration. You’re somewhat annoyed he’s still typing away on his gaming keyboard.
“Y/N…Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”
That question alone seems to ease your mind a little as your irritation bubbles over the surface. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried. You tell Heeseung everything, good and bad, and he won’t relent until he knows you’re okay. But even this is treading into new territory. It isn’t that you haven’t noticed just how attractive your best friend has gotten since you met him for the first time as kids, but it’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged it while talking to him. 
“I can’t get myself off.”
Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t hear the sound of his keyboard anymore.
“What?”
“Heeseung…”
“No, say it again.” 
Suddenly, you’re starting to regret calling him to complain about something like this. You feel like you might as well be diving into the depths of your secrets.
“I can’t get myself off.”
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callme-holly · 20 hours ago
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Heyy I was wondering if you could do the outsider gang head cannons (seperate) with a female s/o who’s very affectionate? Like they are always trying to hold their hand, kiss them, hug them, etc. in public. But in private it’s worse and they’re like on top of them 24/7. Thank you!!
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬/𝐨
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𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - two posts in one day is insane for me wth. so sorry for how slow i've been y'all but my requests are open once more.
DARRY CURTIS:
In public, Darry isn’t the most affectionate
He’s got no problem holding your hand whilst the two of you are walking together, or letting you hold onto his arm, but he isn’t one for being openly touchy with you
In front of the gang, he’ll ease up a little
He’ll give you the occasional kiss, maybe let you sit in his lap if the two of you are at home, but expect a lot of teasing from the boys
He will never push you away or reject your affection, but he will try to tame it a little
If you’re both out and you’re getting just a little too clingy, he will wrap an arm around you to try and keep you somewhat satisfied
In private, you can be as clingy as you want
He will accept any hugs, kisses, you name it 
If he’s working on bills, come and sit in his lap, as long as you dont distract him you can be as clingy as you want 
SODAPOP CURTIS:
Whether you in public or in private, Soda will accept any sort of affection from you
He’s very clingy himself, so to have someone who matches the same energy as him is both a relief and a nightmare for everyone else
You two are sickeningly sweet around each other
In public, expect hugs from behind, random kisses like he has no shame
He will always be holding your hand and lacing your fingers together 
He does not care who you’re around, he will let you hang off him whenever you want and he will not complain once
In private, its even worse
I’m talking, laying on top of each other on the couch, sitting in his lap, either of you holding the other whilst talking to someone 
The other boys have probably learnt to come to terms with your affection, but you will never hear a single complaint from Sodapop 
PONYBOY CURTIS:
I think, for Pony, it really depends on his mood
I can’t see him wanting a whole lot of affection in public, mainly because he believes he has to act tough around the others
He’ll hold your hand, let you lean into his side, but he gets a little embarrassed with anything more than that
That’s not to say he doesn’t like your affection – he loves it! But he’d rather you save it for when you’re alone together
In front of the gang, much like Darry, he might relax a little more 
He’ll give you a quick kiss when nobody is looking, will sit with you and let you cuddle into him a little but if the gang start teasing y’all he’s shifting a little 
In private, he’s a lot more relaxed
He’ll let you lie your head in his lap whilst he reads, he’ll let you play with his hair, give him little kisses etc
He has no problem with your affection, but he’s a lot more relaxed in private
JOHNNY CADE:
Honestly, I can see Johnny reciprocvating your affection in public to an extent
While he’s a lot more mellow than the other boys, he still likes to seem a little tough
This means he’ll probably stick to small hugs, lacing your fingers together, little kisses, etc
I wouldn’t say he gets embarrassed when someone points it out
Around the gang, he’s more comfortable, so he’ll lean against you, let you cling to him as much as you want, but he cherishes the moments when it’s just you two
In private is when he really eases up
He feels safe around you, and because he gets hardly any physical affection from anyone else, he relies on you as a source
Hug him, kiss him, hold him, whatever you want, he won’t complain
Sometimes he gets a little overwhelmed, but he never gets annoyed with you
DALLAS WINSTON:
In public, physical affection for Dallas is very different to how you’d show it
Any soft touches, he will shrug off
He’s perfectly happy to keep an arm wrapped around you and to have you pressed into his side – it’s a good way to show you off and to let everyone know you’re his
Any kisses y’all share in public are either rough or nonexistent
He has a reputation to uphold and he will not be caught dead giving any sort of tender affection
Around the gang, he might relax a little, but he’s still pretty tough
He’ll let you hang off of him, as long as you don’t smother him
He might trace little patterns on your arms or the small of your back if you’re stood together
He can get quite handsy sometimes 
In private, he’ll let you lay across him, as long as you aren’t too soft towards him
He’ll feel a little smothered at times, and if that happens, he will push you away 
His kisses might become a little slower but they will still be passionate and a little rough
STEVE RANDLE:
Steve is pretty confident, so I don’t think he’d get overly embarrassed by your physical affection 
If anything, he’d probably brag about it – it’s a sure way to show everyone who his girl is
If you go to hold his hand, he isn’t going to push you have, although he’d much rather have his arm around you
If he’s working and you drape yourself over him, he’ll probably carry on like normal
I mean it when I say he is unbothered
Little kisses; im talking on the cheek, forehead, lips, neck, you name it, he won’t ever say no and he’ll happily return it
He doesn’t really care for the gang’s teasing about how clingy you are – he secrectly thinks they’re all jealous
In private, you’re pretty much glued to his side and he doesn’t complain, in fact he quite likes it
Sit in his lap, lay on his chest, hug him from the side, do whatever you want but never touch his hair
TWO-BIT MATHEWS:
Much like Soda, Two-bit will probably return your affection at the same level
He has no shame, and while he’ll probably make a few jokes about your clinginess, he won’t ever shrug you off
Hug him for as long as you want, he’ll hold you back
If you kiss him out of the blue, he’ll probably grin at you before returning it 
Probably also brags about you constantly touching him, saying that you “just can’t keep your hands off”
In private, he’s even worse like shit 
He’ll hold you from behind, kiss your neck, tease you
He loves that you’re just as affectionate as he is so much
Cuddling on the couch and watching tv is pretty much y’alls go-to date night
His little sister probably loves you like she will so join in with cuddling sometimes
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animeyanderelover · 2 days ago
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This will be my first request, I am very happy because I LOVE your writing.
Alas aside, Yandere falls in love with a woman older than them who is very maternal for having a child, when he proposes she rejects him because she feels that they should not waste themselves on a woman who already has a child (You can do with the father whatever you want ).It would be with Atsushi, Akutagawa, Daichi Sawamura, Oikawa and if you want to add any more I don't mind
Sorry for my bad english😘😘
Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, manipulation, stalking, threats, violence
Tags: @shumidehiro @leveyani
You shouldn’t waste your time on me
Sawamura Daichi
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🌅​Cries of a small child are what guide him through the crowds on that day, his eyes flickering over the people before they finally land on the boy who is standing there all alone. Upon asking him what happened the child tells him that he got distracted and lost his mother. As not only a police officer but also a decent human being Daichi immediately helps, asks the boy where him and his mother were last together and if he knows where his mother planned to go. If worst comes to worst and he won't be able to find the boy's mother he'll just ask the boy where he lives and will bring hm home to wait together with him until his mom returns. Luckily it never comes that far as Daichi is able to find you after half an hour of searching, the boy instantly leaving his side and running to you with tears in his eyes. He's far too humble in your eyes as he is confronted with your gratefulness, tells you that he only did his job and that anyone would have helped a crying child. Still, you make some small talk with him as you ask for his name and both of you start talking for a while with each other. That's how he finds out that you recently moved to the Miyagi prefecture with your child and live close to his neighbourhood.
🌅​The fact that he doesn't live far away from you and that he helped your child are major reasons that aid the two of you in getting so close to each other. Also, your son's dream is it to work for the police later on so he obviously views Daichi as his hero, something that flusters the man deep down a lot more than he shows. He visits you once a week when he has a free day, often bombarded with questions from your son about his job until you softly chide your child for his uncontrolled excitement. You admit to him relatively early that you moved here because your husband died and your parents live nearby as you also need to work and need someone to look after your son. Hearing that your husband died strangely enough makes more sense to him than if someone would have divorced you as only an ignorant fool would have let someone like you go. Daichi is not even going to deny his own feelings, he knows that he's extremely attracted to you. You're kind yet not too coddling, you're responsible and patient, you listen to the worries of others and are always willing to help where you can. Watching you raising your son sometimes reminds him of his high school days, a fond look on his face.
🌅​Daichi is able to stay patient in spite of his obsession, especially if the loss of your husband has been very recent. He gives you time, he allows you to grieve and focuses in the meantime on helping you and your child to integrate into the new city. The thing is that he fills that role of a supportive husband and father so nicely that neighbours and even your own parents and son can't help but support the two of you getting together. When you reject him he is a bit disheartened but he takes it really well because he realises that you didn't do so because you do not love him. You reject him because you feel not good enough but that in itself is still quite hurtful. You're such a wonderful person after all. He doesn't mind the little age gap nor does he think of you less because you have a child. In fact he's grown very fond and protective of your son who you have raised wonderfully. Still, it's wiser to not pressure you so he steps back for now. His confidence remains though, knowing that you didn't deny not being able to see him as a partner. He'll just stay in your life as a pillar of support for now and will slowly make you realise that you are everything but a waste to him.
Oikawa Tooru
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👑​After a difficult divorce you make the decision to completely change your life and decide to try to reach for a dream you had when you were younger but gave up later on, deciding that you might not make it. It's better to try and fail then to never take the step. After many months of interviews, exchange of mails and documents you receive the news though. You did it. You're one of the managers for your favorite volleyball club, Club Athletico San Juan. You're so joyous, almost feel like a school girl all over again as you read the letter over and over again, kicking your feet and grinning like an idiot. Oikawa is still Oikawa even if he is by now an adult, his charming attitude still there as soon as you're introduced to the team as their new manager. His other teammates just watch with half amusement and half pity as Oikawa's charm ultimately never works. Sure, he manages to charm people quickly but he never manages to hold a relationship and they would hate for their setter and new manager to be on bad terms from the very start. You, with the divorce still freshly on your mind though, put your foot firmly down and clarify it to Oikawa very clearly that you have no intention of dating.
👑​Obviously Tooru is miffed about your blunt rejection yet another part of him can't help but respect your determination. You know what you want to focus on and he wants to acknowledge that, especially since he is essentially the same. The keyword here is want because who would have thought that his feelings would slip out of his grasp of control so quickly? You know when to put him and his childish antics in his place, chiding him almost as if he were a child and the experience feels only more realistic when he realises that you're a few years older than he is. The fact that you work so closely with him only enables him to be very overbearing as he dreams up all kinds of minor inconveniences so that he has something to complain about to have your attention on himself. Your daughter is a shocker as you have never talked about your private life before and whilst other players gush over your child he gives her a strange look at first, his mind trying to process what it could mean. He pesters you privately about it, his eyes desperate and his body tense. The tension leaves his body at least partially when you admit with a heavy sigh that you had a rough divorce before you started working here.
👑​Oikawa doesn't take the rejection very well, his heart dropping even though it doesn't have to do with the fact that you don't see him that way. Still, it is hard to stay logical with a heart as sensitive as his, especially since he is prone to being delusional. He just doesn't understand. What is it that he could have done better?? He has made it more than obvious that he is deeply in love with you. He's showered you in presents, constantly demands your attention and has even made the effort to get closer to your daughter despite initial caution he held. Is that still not enough?? What do you want him to do?? Please tell him what he as to do in order for you to accept. Honestly, your maternal instincts will come quite in handy as you're confronted with Tooru whilst his feelings threaten to burst out of him. Because it helps him to calm down and gives him the reassurance he so desperately craves from you in that moment. Nevertheless though, he ramps up his affection from a 10 to an 11 after that incident. If the problem is simply that you don't feel good enough he will change your mind. You're forgiven this one time. Do not reject him a second time though or else he might just make your job more difficult.
Nakajima Atsushi
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🐅​The gentle love of a parent is a notion so foreign to Atsushi that the first encounter he has with you leaves him almost on the edge. Your kind words, the patient look in your eyes, the warmth and comfort you provide him with by simply being in the room threatens to burst his heart right at the seams. After cold deprivation for as long as he can remember your presence feels like being drowned in a bathtub filled with hot water. It's overwhelming almost, scorches his skin yet he gladly submerges himself in the heat and the sensations that come with it. He's almost immediately infatuated with you, finds himself yearning for your affection in his dreams as well as in the real world. The age difference is something that weights on his soul though as he realises how experienced you are and how clumsy he seems to be in comparison. There's a lack of knowledge with certain machines or customs that he hasn't been exposed to due to his time in the orphanage but he is always too ashamed to tell you about it. Adamant to not let himself look like a young fool in front of you, Atsushi simply refuses to ask for help or advice from you. He wants to prove to you as well as himself that he can provide for you.
🐅​As shameful as it is, there is an undeniable twinge of jealousy directed against your own child. He envies the little boy for being able to cling to you as often as he does as those are all things Atsushi desperately wishes to do as well. He wants to be held, comforted and loved by you too but he could never admit such things as he stares at your son. What would you think of him after all if he were to confess to you that he feels jealous of your own child? It doesn't stop him from clenching his hands into fists every time he witnesses you giving affection to your son, nails turning into claws as he imagines what it would be like if he were to be the one in your child's position. You and your husband have parted ways a few years ago but you still keep in contact due to the child and that just about kills Atsushi. It takes always more willpower than it should to not outright growl at the man whenever he visits. Atsushi can't even fathom how a man could let someone like you go and occasionally he imagines what it would be like to just tear that man apart whenever his jealousy gets the better of him. Chances aren't exactly zero for Atsushi to confront your ex-lover and accidentally kill him during an argument.
🐅​The beast within him tries to tame itself as good as it can for you even if results are mixed. With time he grows closer to your child though he struggles to be a parent for the little boy as he more than once acts just as childish and needy. Still, he does his best to show you that he can protect and provide for you and your child all whilst seeking emotional comfort from you. It has taken him a good chunk of courage to finally confess to you only to be met with a direct blow to his heart. The shock of your rejection numbs him for a few seconds before the weight comes crushing down. He hyperventilates, he cries, he bites his bottom lip bloody and his nails threaten to rip through the skin of his palms. That is only because he does misunderstand your rejection as you telling him that you have no interest in him. Once he has come to understand that you didn't reject him for that reason hopefully he manages to calm down at least a bit. That means that he still has a chance, doesn't he? Still, he feels like it's his fault for not having made it clearer to you just how deeply infatuated he is with you. That has to change now. Hopefully some of his seniors can give him useful tips how to woo you.
Akutagawa Ryunosuke
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⬛​It is through Gin that Akutagawa finds out about you as his beneath the mask quite shy sister has befriended you and finds herself visiting your small shop once a week. Whilst he is anything but an overbearing brother this piece of information still manages to stick to him. It's the first time he has heard that Gin has made friends with someone outside the Mafia and initially he starts directing hostility against you. Akutagawa isn't an individual to trust easily as he distrusts with far more confidence and this is what he finds himself doing against you. Who are you? Are you really just a regular citizen? His sister assures him that you are not some spy nor does she plan to give you any information about the Port Mafia or her real identity but for Akutagawa actions speak louder than words. He finds himself stalking you occasionally, dark eyes trailing after you. A scoff appears on his face the moment he notices the boy following you, realising that you have a child. How naive you must be, keeping a child whilst involving yourself with a mafioso. If you really are just a normal person you must have no motherly senses at all or else you wouldn't hang out casually with Gin.
⬛​Akutagawa never had a mother who raised him as he has grown up in a violent environment from a very young ago. None of his mentor figures have ever given him even an ounce of affection which has led him to believe that love is a weakness. A weakness he has fallen victim to. A part of him itches to use Rashomon to tear you and that little brat apart yet he holds himself back. Partially because his emotions are messy and partially for his sister's sake as she cherishes you. It's Gin he turns to as his curiosity grows and it is through her he finds out most information about you. The most pressing issue for him is who the father of your son is and even if Gin tells him that you have parted with the guy long before your child was born that doesn't stop Akutagawa's urges to rip that man apart for his mere existence. Stalking you becomes quite difficult, his possessive side flaring up the moment you talk to another man and give him a smile. It's the horrified gaze of his sister that holds him back but that is no guarantee that it'll work every single time. Only to his sister is he able to admit his conflicting feelings to you and both of them know that it is only a question of time when you will find out.
⬛​Still, even if it comes that far Gin wishes for her brother to not terrorise and hurt you even with his obsession. She cares for Akutagawa but you're still her friend and she likes your child as well. She wants him to attempt to confess to you the normal way at least once and if you reject him she kind of knows that there's little she can do. Unable to live with herself if she wouldn't try though Gin introduces her brother to you who finds himself incredibly awkward as he is completely out of his comfort zone, easily irritated and with little patience, especially when your son is around. Big chance that Gin is lurking around in the distance when Akutagawa tries confessing, already looking like he is glaring at you. He honestly only knows what to do in case you reject him because you don't like him which is instantly doing what he can do best. Inflicting fear upon you whilst using Rashomon. He isn't prepared for you rejecting him because you think he shouldn't bother with you and is left so perplexed with that answer that he just stares at you for a good while. Ultimately this only delays the abduction though because it'll still happen. He's promised Gin to not harm your son though.
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marchofmistria · 2 days ago
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Can I request some headcanons for March, as in a long-established relationship? I'm a sucker for slice-of-life stuff...
Thank you so much for the ask! Aaaah I absolutely love slice-of-life as well. This was so fun to think about <3 Sorry this turned into some proposal HCs as well! Let me know if you want some wedding/married life HCs because I'd love to write that ⁠:)
March has been alone for a really long time, basically his whole life. The only person he has is Olric. But now he has you!
Because of this, you two get really intertwined in each other's lives. You basically become family as soon as you start dating. 
Even after dating for some time, you both keep your lives and your work. It's just better now, because you're doing it together. You wake up together, eat breakfast together at home or at the Inn, go off and work (while thinking of each other), have dinner together, and go to sleep together. It's the easiest and most wonderful thing in the world. 
March is surprisingly considerate of you. That's how he shows his love. He's not good with words, even after you're together for a long time, but he thinks of you and your well-being often more than you think of it for yourself. 
This includes helping you a lot with work around the farm. He's always very busy with his own work, but will never allow you to lift anything too heavy or repair things yourself after your start dating. He loves taking care of you and helping you take on your responsibilities, just like you do for him. 
He's also always excited to smelt and create things for you any chance he gets. He loves his work, and he loves it even more when he's making something for you. 
That includes swords and armor for your trips to the mines, yes, but also jewelry or charms or anything else he can think of that might make you smile. It helps on those days when he can't stop thinking about you while you're both off working. 
On special occasions, he'll spend days to weeks working on something really special, all while keeping it secret from you and shoving off any teasing comments from Olric. 
When you first start dating, he's still embarrassed at all the comments from the townsfolk. He's never experienced a relationship like this and he's not really sure what to do with this pride. But after a while of dating, he's extremely proud of his relationship with you and doesn't attempt to hide or minimize it at all. It's just the most obvious fact that you'd be together, and he can't even try to pretend that being with you makes life so much better. 
He's not very into PDA usually. Hand-holding or an arm around your waist or shoulder is as far as he'll usually go around others. Unless he's drunk. Then he's all over you, to the point where you're nearly fighting off your own embarrassment (and pretending not to love every second of it). 
Olric and Ryis are so happy that you're together with March, and truly feel that you bring out the best in him. It's a side they've never seen, and they appreciate how you've accepted and loved him. You spend a lot of nights hanging out with them and March and they fully embrace you as family.
Your friends are so happy about your relationship too. They've heard all the miscommunications and anxiety you went through when you both were coming to terms with your feelings for each other and were so happy when you finally told them you were officially together. They really see March in a new light after seeing how much he cares for you. 
Everyone in town notices and appreciates that March loses a bit of his rough exterior after meeting you. He's still a bit standoff-ish, sure, but that slightly mean edge noticibly lessens. He just seems happy, everyone in town can feel it. 
That goes for your relationship too. Before dating, March wouldn't be shy to dish our biting comments that could even hurt. It caused a number of misunderstandings and arguments before you finally understood each other's feelings. Now he's rarely mean to you or anyone else in town. 
You do bicker about silly things sometimes, but it's always clear that the conversation is light. Real fights and arguments are rare, and it really only happens when March lets his secret insecurities get the better of him and shows some jealousy towards you. 
With time, he learns that he can truly trust you and that gets better. 
Although you spend many nights over at each other's houses, March would be hesitant to move onto the farm at first. He's just worried about leaving Olric alone there. Who would be there to make sure he's eating enough vegetables?
But March surprises himself with his love for you, and even having separate places to live seems stupid and pointless pretty quickly. 
You don't start to live together until you're engaged though, which would come pretty quickly too. March doesn't see a point in waiting when he knows you're going to be together for the rest of your lives anyways. 
The idea of getting married makes March nervous at first, but only for a short time. As soon as he realizes that that could be possible for him with you, it means everything to him. I mean, the most incredible person in the world wants to be with him? He can't mess it up.
He smelts a ring from perfect gold ore and a diamond he mined himself on days you were busy running errands for the townsfolk. He keeps it in his pocket for weeks, always trying to hype himself up to finally ask but getting too nervous each time. 
It's not that he thinks that you'll say no. It's just that he can't believe that he's living this reality with you. He didn't think anyone as lovely and kind as you could be with him. And he doesn't want to fuck up. 
He thinks of so many different ways to ask, but always backtracks and worries that it won't come off right. He's rehearsed what he wanted to say to you so many times, but curses inwardly when he can't explain himself properly. Why can't he speak as kindly and carefully as you? Fuck. 
Ryis is the only person he tells for a while. knowing how supportive he'd be and wanting his advice. He can't even bring himself to tell Olric his plan for a while, unable to take the teasing he'd get from his big brother. 
He even consults with Elsie, who corners him one day after her "someone-in-Mistria-is-about-to-propose" senses start tingling. She swoons at the idea that he's so nervous to ask you, and offers the advice that you'll be over the moon no matter how he decides to propose. 
It ends up happening pretty suddenly. You're sitting together at the summit at night, not an unusual spot for you two. You lean into his arm around you, using his body for warmth and he pulls you closer. And in that moment, thinking of how he could imagine sitting here with you when you're old and grey, he can't help but say "let's get married." 
When you look up at him, he's staring out at the view before turning to look at you. Before you have time to ask if he's being serious, he pulls out the ring from his pocket, takes your hand, and places it on your finger. He doesn't give you time to object or say no (not that you would). 
What he didn't expect, though, is your tears of happiness as you kiss him and nod your head. Now it's real, and it's forever, and he can't remember ever feeling this happy in his whole life. 
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moonstruckme · 1 day ago
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I love your headcanons of Tasm!Peter x chubby reader on a fall day, and I was wondering if you’d consider doing something similar but during winter/Christmas? I understand if not, because the headcannons were part of a follower celebration! Or maybe a fic with Peter and reader at a Christmas market? Sending you air kisses! 💋
Thanks for requesting lovely! I didn't really find ways to make this explicitly chubby reader but as always you're welcome to imagine her with any body type you like. Air kisses back! <3
cw: reader has hair long enough to put up/pull back
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 665 words
Peter finds himself obsessed with your ears. You’ve forgone a hat and your hair is up, but you seem overall less concerned with the crisp wind than Peter is. Every time you stop in a stall, his hands come up over your ears, trying to coax warmth into them. You’re more or less ignoring him. 
“We should get you some earmuffs,” Peter says while you peruse a vendor’s selection of ornaments. 
“Why, when I have you?” 
“Rude.” He pinches the top of your ear. “I’m good for more than that.” 
You step to the side, and Peter follows dutifully, not making his point very well. 
“You’re the one who wants to do this,” you argue good naturedly. “My ears are fine. Also, we’re supposed to be finding things for other people, not ourselves.” 
Peter lifts one hand away from your ear, blowing hot air into his cupped hand. You jump and squeal, ticklish, apologizing hastily to the vendor when she looks your way. 
“Stop that,” you hiss at Peter, face still warm with the echo of your smile. When you take his hands and use them to pull him closer Peter doesn’t resist, his arms draping over your shoulders and his front against your back. 
He kisses your cheek complaisantly. “If I bought them for you they wouldn’t be for myself.” 
“Peter. Focus.” You hold up a small ornament. “Do you think your aunt would like this? She really likes elephants, right?” 
“She does,” Peter allows, “but she’s got, like, ten jillion elephant ornaments already.” 
You frown. “Do you think that means she might want more?” 
He weighs this. “Maybe. Her tree’s gonna collapse, though.” 
“This one’s light. It won’t be our fault.” You hold onto the ornament. Peter grins and smushes his lips to your face again. You squeeze his hands, turning your face like you’re going to kiss him but stopping when something catches your eye. “Oh.” Your voice bends with adoration. “Look at this.” 
You reach out to pull an ornament off the wall. It’s a small wooden bird, intricate, with strings attached to its wings and belly. Its body has been painted with tiny, meticulous brushstrokes to give it feathers of various colors. You pull gently on the string, and its wings move up and down. 
“That is cool,” Peter says. 
You’re charmed, eyes soft and happy. It’s the way you look out the window when it’s snowing or at dogs walking past you on the street. “It’s so lovely.” 
Peter has the urge to kiss you silly. “It is.” 
“Do we know anyone that would want this?” 
“You, obviously.” 
You give Peter a sideways smile paired with a playful glare. “Anyone else.” 
He hugs you close, mouth pulling to one side as he thinks. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, it’s really cool, but I don’t know anyone who would like it as much as you.” 
You pull the string again, watching the wooden bird’s wings flap ruefully. Peter knows you’ll never get it for yourself. 
“Hey,” he says, “let’s go get some shitty hot chocolate. I’m freezing.” 
Your smile renews. “You are not.” 
“Fine, you got me. I want to get you a hot chocolate because I’m worried your face is gonna freeze. Please?” 
“Okay.” You return the ornament to its hook, dotting a kiss on Peter’s cheek and gathering up the ones you’ve already decided to get. “Let me just buy these and we can go.” 
You know your boyfriend well enough to be suspicious of him. You keep a close eye on Peter as you pay for your gifts, chatting with the vendor and beaming when she gives you a little pouch with a ribbon for each one. He smiles guilelessly and lets you take him by the hand to pull him with you out of the stall. 
Fortunately, Peter is quicker than you give him credit for. His cash is on the counter and your ornament safely in his pocket before you turn the corner.
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maturemenoftvandfilms · 1 day ago
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Prince Michael of Kent
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Featuring Prince Michael of Kent
Being the PR Chief of the King of England has its perks, like fucking said king. In case of today, being invited to the Royal Box at Wimbledon, one of society's favorite events of the summer. The coveted seats come with an unparalleled view of some of the greatest tennis matches and the chance to rub shoulders with royalty and A-list celebrities. Guests are invited to a lavish sit-down lunch featuring an impressive spread of luxury meat and seafood, including halibut, Galloway beef and Cornish lobster tail before the tennis matches start.
It was there that I met Prince Michael of Kent, second cousin to Charles, Andrew and Edward. He had occasionally represented Elizabeth II at some functions in Commonwealth realms outside the United Kingdom during her reign. Otherwise, he manages his own consultancy business and undertakes various commercial work around the world.
He was handsome, looking quite distinguished with his gray beard as I greeted him with a handshake and bow. He had a stronger grip than I'd imagined. He was older than I usually go for, having recently celebrated his 82nd birthday, but still my type. And with Charles sidelined and Andrew being passed off, I could always use another royal fuck buddy I thought as we spoke.
Now being a confident, royal fucker, our conversation turned into how I would satisfy him if I got him into my bed. He laughed and said that his wife wouldn't appreciate that as sips his drink. Without saying another word, I slip a business card of mine into his coat pocket and pat it lovingly.
“For when you think I'm serious.” I said as I headed to my seat having planted the seed.
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Throughout the matches, I'd scan the crowd, my eyes from flickering from one man’s face to another. I would occasionally look at the prince, fantasizing about him being naked. How much of that fur, if any, spread across the rest of him? Did being short of stature mean he had a small dick or was he one of "nature's surprises" like I'd met once or twice? I really wanted a chance to find answers to these questions, but knew it wasn't likely to happen. I am sure he noticed me looking many times but never said anything. Later that evening I went home and jacked off thinking about him.
During the last days of Wimbledon, after a very good meal in the dining hall, I began the walk back to my seat when I saw Prince Michael at the other end of a narrow corridor. He was finishing a conversation when he headed over towards me. Slowing as we approached each other, we exchanged pleasantries and shook hands.
Gesturing me to the side, he asked, "Were you serious about sleeping with me?"
I told him that I was and his face turned red in disbelief. The old man stared down at me without answering, as though he was thinking over my request.
"I may consider it." He said after a awkward moment.
As he turned to go I realized I'd stopped breathing. I exhaled slowly watching his retreat, remembering his gorgeous, piercing eyes and warm smile. What had seemed like just a cute, unobtainable older guy turned out to be a seriously hot daddy for which I was developing a major hard-on. With a dazed grin as I continued down the corridor, trying to smooth out the bulge he'd left in my pants before return to my seat for the final matches.
Later, after today's matches, as I was about to leave, I heard, “Wait.”
Turning around, I see it's Prince Michael briskly walking to catch up with me has he flashed that warm smile again.
"Yes, Your Highness. How may I assist you." I replied loud enough to sound businesslike.
"I'd like to discuss that business offer you mentioned earlier." He replied just as loud. I was enjoying the role play, particularly as it was real. I stepped back hoping he'd follow me in to my car that had just pulled up. The prince did a check to see if anyone had noticed us. No other words were spoken as we got into my car and started the engine. Pulling away, I could tell he was nervous when he said "Head to Kensington Palace. It's more private.”
“What about your…”
“She’s won't be home.”
Another nod and we’re off, arriving at the palace a few minutes later. The journey though his was unbearable with servants to nod away, but soon were in what I assumed was spare bed chamber. I could only catch a quick glimpse of the large room and spacious bed before the lock clicked and the prince was grinning at me again, his hungry eyes.
We fell into an embrace, sharing a long passionate kiss as we frantically start pulling off our clothes. As his shirt came off I saw that, though not quite as hairy as the other royals I've fucked, there was plenty of body hair to enjoy. The white white fur on his chest hung like moss on a branch. It continued down his stomach, getting thicker until it ended in a bush above his rising cock.
Coming up for air, I asked him if he’d been with a man before. He told me fooled around in the army, but all they’d done was jerk off together. I told him he was in for a treat as I laid him down on the bed. I licked and sucked his nipples before kissing my way down his chest, leaving a trail of saliva all the way to his already hard cock. Which was impressive for a man his age.
The head, bulging and purple, wobbled slightly close to my gasping mouth as the massive tip smeared a little of his pre-emission fluid on my lips before his head entered my mouth. His uncut rod had a thickness that filled my mouth nicely. There was a subtle musky smell along with his old fashioned cologne that aroused me even further as I worked his fully erect shaft, moving slowly up and down. As I deep throated his old cock and he let out a loud, deep moan, the first of many.
"Fuck…" The prince moaned as I began to suck while I swirled my tongue around his boner, "Marie has never done that to me, it feels so incredible."
Wanting to test him, tease him more and so I did something that the old guy wasn't expecting. I quickly lifted his legs and slid my mouth down to his asshole and started running my moist tongue back and forth against his virgin asshole. Suddenly the straight man was bucking and calling out like a woman. And when I forced my tongue inside his tight old asshole, he practically squealed with pleasure as he started writhing about while I tonguefuck him.
I tongue fuck him for a minute or two while he lay there stroking himself before the fear that I was going to make him cum, stopped me. I stood up, looked around for some lube when Michael to me to check the nightstand. I walked over towards it and bent over to pull the Vaseline out, as I bent over I felt him grab my legs, I looked back from under my legs and saw him kneeling behind me, his cockhead was resting on the floor, leaving a wet mark on the carpet. I let out a sharp gasp as I felt his tongue slide up and down my sweaty crack until it pressed against my hole and felt the wetness against it.
"Oh yeah." I moaned as he slid the tip of his tongue into me, tonguefucking me, eating my ass. Reciprocating what I did to him earlier.
He did that for around five minutes till I knew my hole must have been dripping, then he stood up and took the Vaseline tub from me. He was rubbing the Vaseline over his prick while heading back to the bed, I stood beside the bed, pinching my nipples as he lay back and spread his legs wide. Following onto the bed and lifted one leg to the other side, hovering over his crotch, his 8" pole was standing in attention. Guiding his cock into my hole with one hand and tweaking his nipple with the other. As soon as his dick made contact, he immediately thrust all 8 inches into me.
I winced until the head was totally in and then I easily slid down all the way till I felt his pubic hair brush my smooth butt.
"God… so tight." He said as I thought he would cum then from the look on his face.
Placing both my hands on his chest, I dig into it as I lifted my ass and slid back down again. Michael let me take control, so I rode his dick, stopping whenever I thought he was dead close to cumming. The sounds of him moaning with pleasure as I slowly thrust my hips onto his cock was music to my ears. After teasing him and prolonging the excitement, he was desperate to cum. Just then, this white haired older prince took charge and rolled on top of me.
Smelling the sweet scent of Aramis cologne that he wore mixed with his sweat was intoxicating to me as Michael fucked in and out of my tube. But the tightness of my tube soon got to him and he rose up, grabbed my ankles and immediately started stabbing his cock in and out of me at a furious pace. I grabbed my cock and jerked it to finish off, as the both of us were dead close to cumming.
To my surprise, I shot of first, spraying my cum over my chest and stomach. That must have excited Michael as let my legs go and repositioning himself. I grabbed him behind the head, staring him the eyes as he continued fucking me even harder and faster until he was close to emptying his seed. I could feel his cock swell in response. His grip became crushing and he was pushing into me as hard as he could, cumming deep inside of me groaning deeply with ecstasy. I let out a gasp and came on his stomach and mine for a second time. Then he collapsed on me with his cock still inside me and gave me a long grateful kiss.
I was able to coax him to fuck me several more times that night with him blowing his load in me twice! Impressive for a man his age. I couldn't let him show me up, so I blew my load once as he was fucking me, and then I blew it again while I was inside him! I knew Michael enjoyed every moment with his boy. And of course I did too. My old British royalty cravings are only getting stronger!
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aquietgirlsmess · 2 years ago
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Natalia sees María in 3x05 requested by anon
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m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months ago
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WHAT???
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stars-inthe-sky · 8 months ago
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So, hey. How did you and your family celebrate Passover when you were a kid? How about now?
My Rhode Island aunt and uncle almost always hosted a big family Seder, and it was the absolute best. A good Seder is educational, food-filled, and legit fun—it's a ritual meal that includes storytelling, singing, prayers, and a general focus on including and teaching everyone involved, regardless of age or even whether attendees are Jewish. (If ever you're invited to a friend's Seder, go! Do not bring a challah, which my actually-bar-mitzvahed brother-in-law did once as an attempt at a thoughtful host gift. We still make fun of him.)
And my uncle (the same one who officiated at my wedding, and the wedding of my other sister) may well be the greatest host/leader there is; over the years he compiled from a medley of sources what added up to his own Haggadah (basically the guidebook to the Seder—there are a million published and informal versions working off the same template, with readings and activities and interpretations that can go kid-centric or feminist or traditional or whatever). It was always just insanely fun, and warm, and joyous, with incredible food and an increasing array of baked-in, just-us traditions.
Since I went to college basically down the street from their house, and then lived just an hour away in Boston for so long, that was pretty much the heart of my and my family's celebration most years—right up until Passover 2020, at which point the pandemic negated what had been plans to travel from our new home in Illinois for it, and they also downsized and had their own kids scatter geographically and gain very little ones, so that particular tradition is at best on hiatus now.
But there are fun Seders everywhere—well, the Zoom ones of the pandemic years were a mixed bag, but we've found friends who've make a good go of it, over the years, too, if not quite as an elaborately planned out hourslong celebration as my uncle would do. When I studied abroad in Denmark, Boyfriend and I went to an Orthodox Seder that was in a mix of Danish and Hebrew, for instance—that was novel, and so much of the procedure and the Hebrew was familiar enough to follow along.
Still working on exactly where we'll be for those two nights this year (we haven't really met any Jewish families in Pittsburgh yet to garner an invite, and none of the Reform or Conservative synagogues seem to have community events, which is surprising? And I don't really want to go to Chabad?) but we'll figure something out.
That said, as fun as the Seders can and should be, the rest of Passover is a slog of not eating bread or adjacent products, and experiencing whatever it is matzah does to one's digestive system over the course of a week. It's a meaningful observance, and the fact that the relevant rabbinical boards have stopped including rice and legumes in the "no" column in recent years has been great, but...it's ultimately a holiday recalling the story of the Exodus, and how we were slaves once, so, like, there are some less-fun elements. But the freedom celebration parts usually outweigh that!
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There’s a waterfall coming out of my ceiling right now 🫠🫠🫠
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meandmypagancrew · 4 months ago
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I mean, let’s be honest
This would be Luffy if he got accepted into Hogwarts
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betweenbreaths · 6 months ago
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Take your time, don't stress yourself! Take care of yourself, and don't force yourself to make something. Look after yourself :)
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Thank you so very much for the kind words, anon. Kinda needed it today :”)
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