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eccentricwritingbaby · 3 days ago
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i miss you, i’m sorry 
lando norris x reader
summary - breakup, missed calls, and lando at your doorstep. 
masterlist 
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do you remember happy together?
i do, don’t you?
“hi, you’ve reached y/n! i can’t come to the phone right now but please leave me a messa-”
click. lando stares down at his phone, the daunting contact photo of you two together and happy staring back at him. mocking him. his eyes are brimmed with salty tears, his head mentally begging you to call him back. 
you had broken up one month ago, pressures of life forcing the two of you to become resentful and angry, with a common thought that you would both be better off apart. after two years together he moved out of your shared apartment, giving it to you, and finding his own. but, within a week, lando had missed you too deeply to even recognize any faults near the end, just hopelessly attempting to contact you in any way. he had called you every day since then, always getting your voicemail and never having the right mind to leave one. 
the boxes scattered around his apartment were just inanimate reminders of you, and how much he wished he would’ve never left. how much he wished he would have fought for you and your love, a love that hadn’t disappeared the more you two were apart, it only grew stronger. 
you said ��forever’, in the end i fought it
please, be honest, are we better for it?
thought you’d hate me, but instead you called
and said, “i miss you”
i caught it
lando fell back into the couch, his dark phone haunting him as he reminisced. what was so bad about the end? you couldn’t make a few races? he knew his love radiated and compensated for that. he could deal with missed races and conflicting schedules if it meant having you back in his life. as he sits, the slight buzzing of his phone catches him out of his trance, and your smiling face appears on his screen. quick and slightly sweating fingers slide across the screen, answering fast with a clearing of his throat. 
“h-hello?” his voice slightly cracks into the phone. 
“hi,” he hears you sigh from the other line, his smile finally coming back as he hears your current voice, “you called?” 
“been calling,” lando tries to lighten the mood, “‘m glad you called back,”
“me too,” your soft voice is music to his ears, “i, i miss you,” your small confession was everything to lando as his full smile returned to his face for the first time since your ultimate breakup. 
“miss you too, love,” he sighs out in relief, “been needin’ to hear your voice,”
“yours too,”
nothing happened in the way i wanted
every corner of this house is haunted
and i know you said that we’re not talking
but i miss you, i’m sorry
“how’ve you been?” he subtly asks, his fingers now playing with the hem of his shirt - a nervous habit he had picked up from you in your years together. 
“have to admit, not that good,” he hears your giggle through his phone and his heart jumps with love, “the apartment feels too quiet without you here,” 
“my new one feels too empty without you here,” lando replies, his hand runs down his face, preparing himself for his next question, “listen, i-i know you said you didn’t want to see me but-”
“come over,” your voice interrupts, already knowing what he was going to ask, “please,” your voice drops into your most vulnerable octave, and lando is already scrambling to retrieve his keys in order to head out the door to your old shared apartment, to you. 
“be there in five, love,” he responds swiftly, jogging out the door in order to make it towards you faster. 
everything i know brings me back to us
i don’t wanna go, we’ve been here before
everywhere i go leads me back to you
the gentle knocking at your door brings you out of your post-call fog and back into reality. he was here. the man that walked out of your life easily and then wouldn’t leave you alone to heal is here. and fuck, you were so happy to see him. 
the breakup hadn’t been your first decision either, the words had just shouted out of your mouth before you could think things through in a fit of rage. and lando listened. and left. but now he’s here. 
opening the door you’re faced with the man you loved, love. his bright eyes and curly hair still the same, his hoodie and joggers making him ever so soft, and the smile graced on his face was hard to miss. 
“hi,” he whispers, almost afraid to scare you off.
“hi,” you whisper back, same fears in your brain as his, “come in,” you gesture to the inside of your once shared apartment, and he easily steps in, bringing a warmth that was missing to the space and making it a home again. just like that. 
“wow,” he states, keeping his same quiet demeanor, “i’ve missed this place,” looking around, his eyes land on you, “i’ve missed you,”
“i’ve missed you too, lan,” you take a step towards him, “i miss you, a-and i’m sorry, for everything,”
“why are you apologizing?” he takes your hands into his own, giving them both a soft squeeze, “i should be the one apologizing, i just left when things got hard instead of working on it and figuring it out, i-”
“no no,” you cut off his ranting, “i should have never suggested a breakup, that was my fault,”
“and i should have never gone along with it, i should’ve stayed, should’ve fought,”
“you did fight, lan,” your eyes begin to gloss as you look up at him, “you called and called, i just shut you out-”
“then don’t shut me out now, give me another chance,” his pulls your hands that are in his to wrap around his neck as his own land on your waist, “please, baby, give us another chance,”
“i love you,” you whisper, “i still love you, of course i want to be with you again,” lando doesn’t hesitate, now knowing you’re on the same page as him and moves forward to capture your lips into a breathtaking kiss.
“god i’ve missed this,” he pants, forehead resting against yours, “please never break up with me again,”
“please never leave again,” you whisper back.
“wouldn’t even dream of it, baby,”
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fastandcarlos · 1 day ago
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Victim Of A Bad Day : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri
summary: after what can only be described as a nightmare of a day, oscar ends up coming home only to take it all out on you
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Your smile was soft as Oscar walked through the apartment, putting your phone down and rising to your feet. You went over to him, holding your arms out, but Oscar’s head shook back at you. 
“Please, no,” he told you, walking straight past you through the living room and into the kitchen. 
You turned around as you watched Oscar walk away, debating what to do next. You slowly followed behind as you watched him grab a glass from out of the cupboard and fill it with water. Every movement was done with a sigh, thudding around the place like a toddler running around. 
“I’m guessing your day could’ve been better?” You asked, trying to bring a smile to his face. 
You stood and waited for Oscar to acknowledge you, but instead he carried on walking around. His head was down as he moved, his eyes not even looking across in your direction, as if you weren’t there. 
“Oscar, you know I’m here for you,” you told him, beginning to get concerned with his behaviour. It was unlike Oscar to be so quiet, to close off from you and deal with everything all by himself. 
A shrug came from Oscar as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa. He grabbed his phone, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, almost groaning when he noticed that you had followed right behind him. 
“So, we’ll just spend our evening in silence, shall we?” You asked, perching on the end of the sofa. 
“Suits me,” Oscar bluntly responded, still staring down at his phone, ignoring the sigh that came from across the room from you. 
Your head shook in disbelief at how cold Oscar was, never had you seen this side of him before. “I don’t know what’s happened today Oscar, but you could try and at least treat me with even the smallest bit of dignity tonight.” 
“Just leave me alone,” Oscar requested, throwing his arms up into the air. “Just because I’ve not come home and thrown my arms around you and talked your ear off doesn’t mean I need constant questions. Just take the hint and give me a bit of space.” 
Your body tensed up at how loud Oscar’s voice was, not quite sure how to react. “You’re not you Oscar, what would you like me to do? Pretend that everything is fine? I didn’t realise that caring about you was such a crime, next time I won’t bother worrying about you.” 
“I don’t need caring for, I haven’t asked you too,” Oscar replied. 
Your eyes widened in surprise at what Oscar had to say, stunned by how blunt he was. Perhaps you had been a little overbearing, but all you were guilty of was worrying about him.  
“That’s fine then,” you told Oscar, picking up your phone and sitting opposite him. You sat back, stretching out across the sofa, deciding to switch off to the fact that Oscar was even in the room. 
His eyes watched you though, shaking his head as you mimicked him. “I don’t ever remember asking for someone to worry about me, you know I’ve survived long enough all by myself.” 
Your heart ached as Oscar spoke, the hurt clear on your face as your eyes flickered across to Oscar. As he met your eyes, Oscar’s frustration disappeared, replaced by concern that he was the reason for your disappointment.  
“I don’t even know what to say,” you shrugged, shaking your head disapprovingly, full of despair. Rising to your feet, Oscar kept an eye on you as you left the room and went into your bedroom. 
Time apart was exactly what the two of you needed as you let the events sink in. You were both full of anger and upset, unable to believe that the two of you could ever have such an argument. It was unlike any other disagreement that you’d had with Oscar, leaving you rather shellshocked as you laid down on your bed. 
You found yourself staring up at the ceiling as you replayed the argument again and again in your head. A shiver ran down your spine each time you heard Oscar’s voice in your head, the resentment and annoyance so clear, somehow you being the reason for it too. 
After a while, you could hear Oscar moving through the apartment, knowing exactly where he was heading. You picked up your phone to make yourself look busy as the bedroom door opened, with Oscar quietly walking in, sitting on the end of the bed. 
You didn’t respond as Oscar turned to face you, laying himself down beside you. His hand rested against your stomach as he tried to get your attention, knowing that he had plenty of making up to do. 
“I’m sorry,” Oscar murmured, “the way I behaved then was completely unreasonable and out of order.” 
You placed your phone down, brows knitting together as you glanced across at Oscar. His heart sunk as he saw how upset you still were, guilt eating away at him knowing it was all his fault. 
“I don’t want to hear it.” 
“Please,” Oscar sighed, expecting you to dismiss him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, I know that you care so much, and that’s one of my favourite things about you. Having you take care of me is the best feeling in the world, I don’t know what I’d do without you around to support me.” 
As your body turned slightly to face Oscar, you could see a faint smile on his face. Knowing that you were at least listening to him was a start for Oscar, hardly expecting you to fall into his arms and forgive him as quick as a flash, but at least it was a sign. 
“I don’t care how bad your day is Oscar; I don’t expect to be spoken to like that. I was only caring, and maybe I was a little too much, but if you’d have just told me that you needed space then I would’ve known what you needed from me, rather than just being shouted at.” 
“I was stupid,” Oscar told you, “there’s no explanation for it, bad day or not.” 
You could see the effects of the day in Oscar’s eyes, there was barely any colour there, letting you know just how bad of a day he must’ve had. 
“Everyone has good days and bad days,” you whispered, “including me, but yours are not my fault. I don’t want you to shut me out Oscar, I want to be able to help you, even if there’s very little I can do, at least it’s something.” 
His head nodded, pressing a kiss against the top of your shoulder. You were spot on, you were the last person to blame for how Oscar’s day went, you just so happened to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. 
“I’m always here for you,” you reminded Oscar, “it doesn’t matter what’s happened, you know I’m always going to be with you, right?” 
He continued nodding as you spoke. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t appreciate you being with me today, because I do appreciate it, more than anything.” 
“Will you remind yourself of that next time you come home after a bad day?” 
“I promise that I’ll never forget it.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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sonrium · 2 days ago
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That second point yanked Batman instantly and unwillingly by the throat to Phantom's side.
He couldn't speak out knowing the rest of the League wouldn't approve, so he let the discussion run its course, and Phantom was naturally denied.
But Batman is nothing if not thorough, and compiling DNA profiles would also help with contingencies. So Batman discretely reaches out after the meeting to give Phantom his personal permission as long as he provides the DNA samples and that Phantom understands that Batman cannot publicly defend him, but he will mitigate the consequences behind the scenes.
After another biting incident when Phantom is getting lectured by Superman:
"Phantom, you can't keep doing this. This is your last warning. Criminals or not, it's never okay to bite people just because you want to. Control yourself, or you might have to rethink your place in the Justice League."
Phantom staring at his feet and genuinely worried that he might get kicked out. He didn't think it was that big a deal.
Batman walks up and simply states. "He is controlling himself."
"Batman, you call that control? I'm trying to be understanding, but Phantom is biting criminals more than ever."
"Are they still breathing?"
"I don't see how-"
"Are their limbs still attached?"
"What are you-?"
Batman gives Superman a hard look to stop him mid question. "Acording to Constantine, ghosts from the Infinite Realms are creatures that should be avoided at all costs due to their extremely volatile nature. Generally, it's a death sentence to ever encounter one."
Superman turned to the child he'd been scolding, shocked that any of that could possibly be true about his colleague. The same colleague, who was so gentle he almost cried when he accidently killed a spider in the dining hall. "Is that true?"
Danny, glancing up but unable to meet Superman's eyes, "Yea-yeah. Intense violence is actually how most ghosts socialize. Regrowing limbs isn't a big deal for ghosts, so they tend to forget how fragile humans are."
Batman continues with his explanation, "In the Infinite Realms, ghosts have evolved to attack anything that moves as a defense due to how hostile the environment is. Everything from the plants to the very ground could attack at any moment. Their version of compassion is controlling their instincts before the killing blow. The fact that Phantom rarely attacks anybody is a testament to his constant and vigillent self-control."
Danny finally meets Superman's eyes and they are nothing but pools of liquid innocence and shame about his very being. "I'm sorry... I'm doing my best, but my ghost instincts are really hard to control, especially when emotions are high and we are carching bad guys, and I can't help but bite. But I promise, I will never let it go any farther than that."
Intense guilt washes over Superman. He knew how seriously Phantom took his promises. He had no idea he was asking Phantom to go against his very nature. Did Phantom have to hold himself back right now? Superman knew a thing or two about how scarily fragile human bodies were to someone like him. He couldn't imagine having instincts that screamed at him to attack anything that moved on top of that.
Batman turned to his old friend with a disapproving stare. "Maybe learn a thing or two before you judge our nonhuman members. I expected better from you."
Superman placed his hands on Phantom's shoulders. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Do the best you can. We can figure out the rest together. Please forget everything I said earlier."
Danny with hope sparking in his eyes, "Are you sure? I know im not perfect, but I want to stay. I really like it here, and I really like helping people."
"Of course. I'll let the others know." Superman walks away down the hall, and out of sight.
Danny grinned, lifted his eyebrows, and nodded toward where Superman ran off to convey his thanks for the save.
Batman gave a quick nod and a tiny, barely there smile of his own. He spoke aloud for the one with superhearing that was definitely still listening, "I apologize for any offense you may have taken. Know that the sentiments of Superman are not shared by the rest of us."
Danny pulled the zip lock baggie out of his pocket and silently handed it to Batman with a grin. It had a napkin smeared with the blood of Danny's most recent biting victim labeled in Sharpie. Danny responded in a wobbly voice that did not match his mischivous grin, "Thanks." He added a sniffle for effect. "I needed to hear that. I'm really doing the best I can, but i guess people dont see it that way."
After this incident, Superman became Danny's biggest defender against the biting accusations.
Danny Phantom, who as far as the Justice League knew was a normal ghost, was presenting a pointpoint in front of the rest of the League. The presentation says, "Why I should be allowed to bite criminals: 1, because I am not human and cannot catch any of your filthy human diseases. 2, because it would allow us to compile DNA samples from the criminals of the world to compare with during crime scene investigation. 3, Fuck you."
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vxnuslogy · 1 day ago
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— what does it mean to be a star?
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pairing: sunday x gn!reader
premise: sunday has stayed with you and the stellaron hunters for a few years. your lives has been filled with many adventures, both good and bad. but like any other story crafted by elio, they must come to an end eventually.
– warnings: slight angst if you squint, implications of committing suicide, not proofread that much.
– author’s note: one final (?) stellaron hunter!sunday fic before he gets released. ive missed writing for this man. art credits to 冒火锅海台 on Weibo for the art. | 1.9k words.
— tags: @ryescapades @mitsvriii @https-sourlimes @dazaisms ; if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know by sending an ask off anon or filling out the forms in my pinned !!!
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“what do you think makes a star, a star?”
elio asked you that question decades ago. and only now have you arrived at one final answer. out of curiosity, you asked each hunter the same question over the years that have passed, each of them giving one answer that didn’t quite match the rest.
“to be the top player of course!” silver wolf exclaimed, her tone in a matter of fact manner as she didn’t even look up from her console. you only shook your head in amusement, jotting her answer down in a new journal your boss had given you as a present.
“a star you ask,” kafka tilted her head curiously at you. eyes freed from her usual contacts and makeup followed your movement as you stirred the coffee in your cup. “well, a star for me would be something that captures the attention of others without much effort. stars often piqued your interest, didn’t they?” you only smiled in response and nodded. you made a mental note to write it down later before you went to bed.
firefly took a little longer than the last two to answer. you patiently waited, spooning pieces of cake to your lips as the girl in front of you was deep in thought. “a guide. even in your darkest moment, a star will shine as a guide for you to follow so you don’t stray from your path.” she answered in a whisper. eyes wistful as she played with the dessert on her plate. 
“a star,” blade’s gruff voice cut through the night like a knife. a few bottles of local xianzhou wine separating you two as you sat on the roof overlooking the stars above. you hadn’t expected blade of all people to humor your questions, but here you were, grateful in his presence. “it means to burn. so brightly you are unrecognizable, to others and yourself.”
“you have a sad answer,” you mutter, taking a sip of the wine from the small cup as the man huffs. 
“time takes a heavy toll for both you and i,” the wind sways his hair in a deathly dance. he brings his cup to his lips and drinks in one go. you don’t mention how you can barely finish a cup with how strong the drink was—blade could not feel the pain of it in his throat, and he never will. “you’ve already burned through the remains of your past self. it won’t be long before you look in the mirror and be unable to recognize your reflection.”
you frown at his response. “you’re pessimistic.”
“and you’re hypocritical.”
you have no rebuttal to his accusation, after all, at the very core of your character, the word “hypocrite” hangs like a thorny crown. 
“tell me, starcatcher,” red eyes reflected the conflict you’ve been massing deep within the columns of your bones. they crash onto your being like how the oceans do to the shores—unrelenting and loud. “are you that afraid of losing another that you love them as if tomorrow they’ll die?”
you fled the roof that night. unable to face your hopelessness head on after a fresh wound of death lingers by your heart. another attempt, another reminder of the welling darkness that swells from the tip of your fingers and slowly corrupts your entire body. it drowns you and you can’t help but fear that time is clutching your shoulder, weighing you down to the ocean floor as it laughs at your predicament.
“so it’s decided then.”
but that’s no longer the case. no, not anymore. it's been decades since then, and you’ve changed.
elio sits by his office chair, typewriter moved to the side as he personally penned the final bits of your songbird’s script. you were elio’s editor and proofreader. you don’t exactly remember when it started but when you were still an unwilling understudy—an actor who refused to acknowledge the stage—he would trap you in his office and force you to read over his script to make sure there were no errors.
a small and sad smile tugged at your lips as you read the pages of inked fate. “this is for the best.”
“the best, yes,” elio ceases his writing. compiling the papers into one bulk and staring right at you. “but it's not the ending you wanted.”
you shook your head, “my preferred ending isn’t relevant to how the story ends. it’s not my story to tell.”
“yes, but it's a story you’re meant to read,” there was pity in his eyes. your heart felt too heavy with realization to even feel offended by such a look. “you have the right to feel dissatisfied.”
“thank you, elio, truly,” you only gave destiny’s slave one final smile before standing. you quietly made your way to the door, forcing your steps to sound quiet and lacking sadness. but you can’t do that, you never will. building up walls will only prove to be a waste of effort. not when elio knows every brick by heart.
with a heavy sigh, you linger by the office door before making your way to your workshop. memories from years ago flood your mind as the halls fill your senses. photos from vacation, missions, and simple outings hang by the walls while certain trinkets and relics from bygone travels litter the many desks and drawers. time did take a heavy toll just like blade said. kafka’s skin started to wrinkle a bit, silver wolf started growing taller, firefly grew paler and paler, and blade looked more like death with every breath he took.
time was a painful thing to remember—it’s not infinite. and even if it was, it's never always kind to everyone. and you? you are worse than time and death itself. you were the inevitable–finality. 
“good morning, [name].”
a voice from behind greets you like a new sunrise–a reminder that a new day is here. you couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. seeing sunday in blade’s shirt hang over his body like a blanket, firefly’s hair ties on his wrists and a spare console from silver wolf in one hand brings you so much joy. 
“sunday, good morning!” you sounded breathless. tucking both hands behind your back to hide your shaking as he joined you on your way to the workshop he’s made as his makeshift nest.
sunday smiles—filled with all the hope you’ve craved and lost. it stings your heart like a needle but you don’t show it. you’re first to look away, like all the other times in his presence, unable to face the way his wings flutter and smile twitch in concern.
when you reach the workshop, you flicker the lights on and sunday makes himself at home. sitting by the windowsill as you sat down by your table. scattered fabrics for sunday’s final mission lay in your hands, and you’d be damned if you messed up now. even with a heavy heart, you willed your hands to work, all the while ignoring the concerned stare of the angel sunbathing by the window.
the two of you spend the first few hours of morning in each other’s quiet presence before your tongue itches to ask him a question. “sunday,” you call his name and you curse the flutter in your chest when he immediately looks at you. he noticed his overly quick response and covered half of his face with a fist, pretending to hide a cough instead of his coloring cheeks.
“yes?” he asks, attention solely on you as you pin the needle back on the cushion and smooth out any creases.
“what does it mean to be a star?”
he blinked owlishly at your question. a soft hum escaped his lips as his fingers tapped on the rim of his cup in contemplation. “is there…” he tests the waters—seeing if it's too hot or too cold. “any particular occasion for you to ask me a question?”
you shake your head in amusement when his more formal tone slips out. “no, not at all. just a little tradition is all.”
“well, then,” the words die out on his tongue. every once in a while, sunday would peer at you like a lost child but you’d only nod encouragingly. “a star means to be remembered.” he looked out the window, watching the clouds pass by in a blur. “even if they aren’t always there, you know they exist.”
sometimes you wonder if it's possible for sunday to look at himself through the lens of your eyes. he was beautiful like the praise of idrila, happiness like aha’s laughter, and the curiosity for adventure like akivili. sunday wasn’t just a star, he was the entire universe. and he remained blissfully unaware of it.
“[name], is everything all right?” 
you’re snapped out of your daze when you feel his hand on your cheek. lost in the replays of sunday’s image in your mind, you didn’t notice the stray tears that had betrayed your image of an unbothered editor. 
“please, don’t cry,” he whispers, pressing your foreheads together. his thumb gently wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes. you can’t help but chuckle. sunday truly was like a sponge when it comes to others’ habits.
“what hurts you so?”
“what makes you think i’m hurt?” quite frankly, you were hurt. so incredibly hurt by his eventual departure but your heart knows his stay was only temporary. but that didn’t mean you never hoped. 
hoped. over the course of a few years, sunday had succeeded in the mission the other hunters failed at. he made you hope again.
“kafka is cooking everyone’s breakfast. it’ll surely brighten up your mood.” he states taking your hand in his and tugging you in the direction of the dining room and kitchen. sunday maneuvered through the headquarters with such ease your ribs began to clamp on your heart again.
this was his home, his respite. but only for a short time.
when the two of you enter the room, you notice his frown. the emotions of everyone were palpable—it felt suffocating. your eyes met blade and you just smiled. one deep breath in and you snapped back into your joyous self. bringing temporary light to the room.
even as you ate and chatted, there were undertones of sadness. sunday nudged your side and quietly asked you, “are you quite sure everything is alright? everyone seems sad today.”
you look at them one by one. kafka’s eyes are slowly being accompanied by eye bags and wrinkles, silver wolf is nearing blade’s shoulder, firefly looks paler, and blade’s hand shakes as he holds his chopsticks. you look at sunday’s eyes, and smile. even he was a victim of time with the way his hair grew longer and face filled with more life.
“they’re just worried,” you look away first like always. meeting blade’s gaze halfway and smiling to yourself when you see him huff in denial. “your next mission is here.”
what does it mean to be a star? elio asked you that question a long, long time ago. and you only found the answer in the form of an angel with wings behind his ears and eyes that shined like the sun. the star you’ve grown to love burns brighter than the sun but still requires rest when night falls. 
to be a star means to be remembered, even in the face of departure. you remain bright and unforgotten. left in the care of a conductor and an express you’ve once loved.
to be a star means to face the inevitable that sunday was meant for greater things than being just a fugitive venturing the universe.
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© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.
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joemama-2 · 19 hours ago
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velvet lies
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pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, drugs, drama, family drama wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. next chapter
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“Cash or card?”
“Card.”
The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”
“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.
It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 
A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 
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As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 
Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 
“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.
He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 
Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”
You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.
You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 
It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 
The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”
Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is next month. There’s gonna be food and music.”
Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”
“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 
And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”
“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 
No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 
The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.
He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 
“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.
Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”
“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”
“Do you promise?”
You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”
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After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 
Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.
You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.
Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.
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It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”
Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”
“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”
“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”
When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.
Soon, images of his son, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 
Not now.
You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 
You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.
It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.
This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?
Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.
It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 
Koji.
If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 
I wanna see Papa.
Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.
A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.
For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.
Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.
Gojo Satoru.
The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 
You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in seven years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.
He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.
You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of seventeen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 
You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?
You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.
But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.
Letting him meet his father. 
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“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 
The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.
You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”
“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”
He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”
“Good, and you?” 
“Very good.” 
The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 
You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”
Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.
The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”
“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.
“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”
You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”
He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”
Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”
“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”
With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.
Whatever. 
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“Pizza or teriyaki?”
“Pizza!”
“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 
“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 
You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 
Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 
Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.
Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”
It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 
“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.
“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.
“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”
He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”
Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been seven years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”
He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 
You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”
“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.
Well…..shit. 
As if things weren’t already complicated.
With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..
“I-is this—”
“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”
Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”
You nod uncomfortably. 
He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”
Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”
“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”
Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?” The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 
“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”
“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”
“Why?”
That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”
Silence. 
You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”
There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”
You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”
Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 
“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”
With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.
Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–
“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”
“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”
But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”
Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”
Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”
“And I like it when you smile with me too.”
Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 
You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.
That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.
But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 
Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 
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The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”
“S-satoru!” 
“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”
He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.
He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 
Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 
In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 
“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”
“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”
When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”
Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”
Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 
Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 
“For what?”
“It’s important.”
“So just say it now.”
“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”
“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.
“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.
Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”
Once again, she frowns. “But I—”
“Please.” 
His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 
“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”
“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”
“That woman is not sweet.” 
Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 
A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”
“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”
Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”
Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”
Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”
“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.
Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”
“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”
“Are you now?”
“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”
A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out. “Who?” Satoru ends up asks.
His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”
Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 
“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”
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a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)
355 notes · View notes
tbaluver · 7 hours ago
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Baby's First Vaccine- The Love And DeepSpace Men
order: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus genre: fluff, silly a/n: hihi lovelies! i'm almost finished with my semester so i'll be busy-ish (っ- ‸ - ς) here's a small scenario/headcanon that was in my drafts ! (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i'll try to finish any small req or unfinished drafts this week maybe ! anyways enjoy reading! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
Xavier eyes the doctor’s every movement the entire appointment while he gently holds your hand and your baby in his other arm. Constantly leaning in to ask you questions and clarification on what the doctor was doing.
“what is that?”
“it’s a stethoscope sir.”
When you two are alone in the room with your baby, he'll distract your baby boy with his evol, doing a small light show. When the nurses come in and prep the needle, he’ll have his baby boy face away from the scene. He doesn't want to increase his baby’s anxiety and his own
The moment any stray tears fall from your baby, his gaze would sharpen on the nurse as if they were completely at fault. You’d step in to reassure both of them that everything is okay.
He would also take the entire lollipop jar after his baby gets one.
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Zayne:
Zayne would be the one to arrange the day and time for the doctor’s appointment, knowing that there will be a vaccine involved. He knows exactly which nurse will provide the gentlest care for his baby girl and who can handle the situation with ease. And of course, he knows which one has the sweetest lollipops to offer after.
As the nurses prepare everything, he’ll hold your daughter gently in his lap, letting her play with his large hands or his tie to keep her distracted.
If any stray tears were to escape, he’d be quick to wipe them away while whispering soft words of encouragement and praises for being so brave and well-behaved.
“can i please have two more lollipops ma’am?” your daughter asks sweetly.
“how could i say no to a cute face like that of course you can!” the nurse can’t help but smile as she hands over two extra lollipops.
zayne watches the exchange, a soft smile spreading across his face. you both watch your daughter run up to you both, handing you one lollipop each.
“that’s my girl.” zayne murmurs, as he gently lifts her up into his arms effortlessly.
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Rafayel:
Rafayel is more terrified than his own baby. He hated that humans have to do this and how humans are so weak and fragile that they needed to get vaccinated.
Your baby remains calm, unaware of the needle’s sting until the soreness hits making a few stray tears and a soft whimper escape your baby’s lips. He tightens his hold on his baby, carefully avoiding the arm that was just pricked.
He’ll cradle his baby boy while pressing multiple kisses on his head while whispering promises that he’s never ever going to make him go through this again.
“here’s your lollipop for being so brave!” the nurse exclaims, handing over the treat. but before the nurse could even finish her sentence, rafayel snatches it out of her hand.
“geez, i didn’t know these shots could be this scary!” he says, wiping the sweat from his brow. but he narrows his eyes at the nurse, crossing his arms. “ummmm aren’t you going to give my baby a treat too?”
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Sylus:
Sylus remains calm. It's easy when you're right beside him the entire time. His baby girl is settled gently on his lap, distracting and trying to ease her from any anxiety by lifting her up and down before the nurses come back in the room.
He doesn’t stop distracting her as he gently tickles her sides and adds reassurance the moment the needle touches her skin. He doesn’t complain when she squeezes his finger with her small hands as she winces from the pain.
He rubs her back gently, whispering gentle praises in between kisses on the top of her head. “you did so well sweetheart.”
“good job my little dove,” he smiles curling on the corner of his lips as he lifts her onto his broad shoulders, treating her like the little champion she is. “brave just like your mommy, yes?”
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hippiegoth97 · 2 days ago
Text
Random Spencer Reid Thought #2
A/N: Fucking FINALLY got something written for once. Enjoy some crumbs, lovely readers <3
Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, virgin!Spencer Reid, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, fingering, groping, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, dirty talk, rough sex, fluff
Some tags: @rafeyscurtainbangs @loserboysandlithium @hotwritergf @bloodibambiidoll
"Are you sure you're ready for this, Spence?" You ask Reid as you're straddling his thighs, the two of you naked in his bed as you have been so many times before. Although, it's different this time, because he's just asked you to take his virginity from him.
"Yes. I'm ready." He replies softly, sitting up against the headboard, his hands resting at your waist. He's brought you here on many occasions, though up until recently the most you'd do is make out until your lips were sore.
He'd met you at a book shop a few months ago, reaching for the same first edition of some dusty old classic. Sherlock Holmes, maybe, or perhaps even Moby Dick. He doesn't quite remember (and his unmatched memory captures everything), as he was far too focused on the gorgeous, soft hand that brushed against his own in grabbing for the book. A shared laugh soon followed, light and airy, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Your beauty enraptured him instantly, and he nearly tripped over himself to give you his number and await your call to plan a date of some sort. It was so unlike him to do so, it made him seriously question his sanity for an hour or two. But after a conversation with you that lasted hours into the night when he returned home that evening, he was pleased to find he'd made a very wise decision.
Fast forward to the last month or so, and things have rapidly progressed from hand-holding and passionate kisses to touching various naked areas with your hands and mouths. You've been patient, guiding Spencer along each stepping stone towards intercourse, encouraging him, exploring him in every way imaginable. Despite your insistence (and multiple comments he receives from certain coworkers of his), he's never exactly found himself to be attractive. Not really.
He's spent most of his life a full step ahead of everyone else in terms of education and career, leaving him considerably younger than most of his peers. That fact alone has made it rather difficult to experience a lot of 'firsts' in regards to intimacy. He's been kissed before you came along, maybe even felt up a little bit, but nothing beyond that. In all honesty, a part of him is glad to have been spared the awkward adolescent groping and vulgar attempts at playing grown-up, because now he's been able to share all of these amatory encounters with you.
"I want this. I want you." Spencer reiterates as you haven't made any next moves yet.
"I want you too, baby. I just have one more question." You say softly, brushing a wispy hair out of his face before cupping his cheek.
"And what's that?" Reid asks, unable to help smiling as you gaze at him adoringly.
"Do you want me to put a condom on you, or are you okay without one?" You ask, the words sounding a bit more clinical than you'd like. But it's a fair question.
"I-I dunno. Should I?" His brow furrows, unsure how to go about this. He's aware you're on the pill, though that statistically isn't 100% effective. And he may be a virgin, but he's aware of the mess sex can make, and it might spare a bit of cleanup afterwards. He's getting stuck on it now, pondering inside his head as you play with the foil wrapper between your fingers.
You giggle at his momentary trance, shaking your head. "It's only if you want to, Spence. It's not exactly a life-altering decision."
"That's not true. You could still end up pregnant." Spencer retorts, about to rattle off statistics at you about just how many children were born to parents who assumed oral contraceptives were enough. You put a finger over his mouth to stop him, and he sighs when he realizes how intense he's getting about this. He gently moves your hand away, speaking again. "I'm sorry, I'm being silly."
"No, you're not. It's sweet that you're so concerned." You reassure him, giving him a soft kiss. He hums into you, allowing your tongue to slip into his mouth for a moment. You pull away shortly after, taking his breath with you. With your lips still brushing against his, you meet his dizzied gaze. "I only ask, because I want your first time to be extra special. And it'll feel so much better if you fuck me without a condom on." You say seductively, making his pupils dilate with lust.
"Actually, studies show that there's little to no difference in sensat-" Reid's gargantuan mind starts up again, leaving you no choice but to cut him off by taking his cock in your grasp. "-fuck." He mutters, losing his train of thought entirely, his eyes flicking down to look at the scene between his legs. His stiff, ample length throbs in your hand, pearly beads of precum dripping down the side as you lazily stroke him.
"Baby, look at me..." You purr, drawing his gaze to you. "I'm gonna ask you again. All I need is a 'yes; or 'no', okay?" You wait for him to give an understanding nod. He does, as well as letting out one of the filthiest little moans you've ever heard. "Do you want to wear a condom?" You ask, letting his dick fall from your hand for a moment. He whines at the loss, the sound sending a flare of arousal between your legs.
"No. I want to feel you. All of you. Please." Spencer begs, and you could just about melt at the pitchy whimper in his voice. You've noticed he grows rather needy in bed, and it doesn't take much to rile him up. The way he takes everything you give him like a precious gift is so goddamn intoxicating.
"So do I, Spence." You say with a smile, one he mirrors. "Is this position okay? We can do it any way you want."
"This is fine, makes me feel close to you." Reid says sweetly, squeezing your hips a little.
"You wanna warm me up a little bit first?" You ask, longing to feel his touch.
"Of course." He nods, leaning in to press his lips to yours. Spencer always starts with a kiss, no matter what it is you end up doing. It's really romantic, and makes your knees weak every time. You let him lead, allowing his tongue to dominate yours in a fervent dance. His hand leaves your waist, trailing along your supple skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His long fingers brush past your inner thighs, reaching their intended destination without him having to look. He rubs slow circles on your clit, making you moan against his mouth. It doesn't take long for him to venture further, slipping two fingers inside your drenched cunt.
"Fuck, Spence." You moan aloud, the way his fingertips can reach your g-spot so quickly and easily takes you by surprise every time. You grab hold of his cock again, mainly holding it to keep him ready. Although, the sounds you're making and how wet you are seem to be doing that job just fine. The air of the room heats up, growing thinner as the seconds pass. Unabashed moans escape the two of you as you work each other up, building towards the one thing you've both desired for so long. "I'm ready when you are." You say breathlessly, eager to finally feel Spencer inside of you.
"O-Okay." He stutters, nodding his head enthusiastically. He pulls his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them to his lips. He sucks them clean, moaning at the taste of you. "Mm."
"Dirty boy." You tease, making a deep blush bloom wildly across his cheeks. You start to stroke him again, very slowly. You get up on your knees to position yourself over him.
He watches your every move, unable to say a word. It's finally happening. He's going to have sex. With you. Reid feels like a silly teenager with all these thoughts running through his head, but they all fall away the second you bring the tip of his cock to glide through your folds. You share a moan at the sensation, gazing at one another with parted mouths. Hearts pounding in anticipation, breath stolen from your lungs, arousal leaking from you both and mixing together in the indescribable friction. Spencer could cum just like this if he isn't careful.
"Ready?" You ask one final time, just to be absolutely sure that he wants this.
"Yes." Reid nods, trying to keep himself from squirming. You feel so good, and he's not even inside you yet. He's certain he won't last long, but you've already told him a hundred times that it won't be a problem.
You don't waste anymore time, holding his cock at your entrance and gradually sinking down onto him. "Fuck, Spence. You're so big." You moan as he splits you open. He's a bit larger than you've had before, and it's been quite some time since you've done this, so every inch is deliciously stuffing you full.
Reid, on the other hand, has gone completely mute. His mind has stopped working, and all he can do is grip onto your hips with all the strength he has without hurting you. You're absolute heaven inside, if he believed in such a thing. So hot, and slick, and snug, squeezing around his dick perfectly. He finally understands what all the fuss is about. He could just about cry from happiness in this moment. Once you're fully seated on him, your walls constrict out of reflex, which appears to get Spencer's sex-addled brain working again. "Oh, my...fuck- I, um, wow..." He babbles, unsure what to do with himself. His hands fidget at your sides aimlessly, and his expression twists and bends in all manner of ways as he attempts to get a grip on one singular thought.
"Shh, look at me, Spencer." You coo to him, leading his chin with your finger. He meets your eyes, though his own desperately want to roll back into his fucking skull. "That's it, baby. Just breathe, alright? Nice and slow, 'kay?" You guide him through the initial shock, nodding together slowly as he takes deep breaths. "There you go. I'm gonna start moving now, okay? Don't worry if you cum early, and just tell me if you need me to stop." You say softly, keeping things light and low-pressure. The last thing you need is him worrying about his performance.
"Okay." He breathes, chest shuddering as you start to ride him. You lift yourself up, almost letting him fall out altogether, and come back down at the same pace. You do this a few more times, gradually picking up a bit of speed.
"That feel good, baby?" You ask him, rolling your hips as you set a steady rhythm.
"Yeah, so fucking good." Spencer huffs, feeling close already. But he puts that out of his mind, focusing instead on enjoying this with you. "Do you feel good?" He asks, needing more than your vulgar moans as confirmation.
"So good, Spence. You fill me up so well, I'm so fucking wet for you." You admit these lewd thoughts to him, no stranger to being vocal during intimacy with him. Reid enjoys it immensely, adding words to the actions just makes everything astoundingly better. "Tell me how it feels to fuck me, Spencer." You say through a moan, riding him a little bit faster now.
Spencer groans at your increased speed, doing his best to hold back his orgasm. "I-It's exactly what I'd always hoped it would be." He starts. "I can hardly find the words to describe how much I'm enjoying this right now. You've blown my mind to pieces with this perfect fucking pussy." His grip on your waist grows rougher, taking you by surprise. He's following his instincts, leading you with his hands as you bounce on his cock. His assistance punctuates every landing you make, your noises growing louder as pleasure builds inside you. "I can feel you making a mess all over me, fucking soaked." He says, marveling at the drenched patch on his crotch. Your arousal glistens in the light as it's caught on his coarse hair and pale skin. "It drives me crazy to know you're loving this just as much as I am."
"I am, baby. You're so deep, hitting all the right places inside me." You say, speeding up a bit more. Spencer's hands migrate to your ass, squeezing your flesh roughly as he continues to keep up with you. You're surprised he's lasted this long, oddly proud of him for doing so.
"Fuck, you're incredible." Spencer groans, getting dangerously close to the edge again. He'd tell you to slow down, but everything feels too good to stop. Instead, he tries to drag you down with him, starting with diving face first into your tits. His mouth nips and sucks at your flesh wildly, struggling to land where he wants with your ceaseless bouncing. The noises he makes are borderline animalistic, groaning and grunting against your chest.
"Jesus, Spence!" You can't help letting out a breathless laugh at his urgency, picking up on the fact that his end is closer than your own. "You wanna try to help me out?" You offer, eager to feel him take some of the control. He doesn't say anything, just nods and makes an unintelligible sound at you. He thrusts his hips up, following what his primal urges are telling him to do. It appears to be working, given the shocked gasp that leaves your lungs at his effort. He keeps doing it, his mind turning to mush more and more as he fucks into your cunt to meet you halfway. "Oh my god! Yeah, keep doing that." You pant the words out, clinging to him by the shoulders.
Reid grins against your flesh, still biting and suckling while he pounds into you over and over. He's doing it, he's really doing it. He's keeping control of himself, he's going to make it. "Feel so fuckin' good, gonna make you cum, gonna make you scream, I promise...promise, promise..." Spencer murmurs to you, vowing to not give up, even though his balls are screaming for release right now. He has to get you there, if it's the last thing he'll ever do. "Such a perfect pussy, so good for me, so, so wet, fuck-" He groans when your walls constrict around him a bit, almost making him blow his load entirely.
"Don't stop, baby, you can do it, fuck me, make me cum, please, Spence..." You plead as your orgasm builds near the point of toppling over. His filthy mouth and feral actions have set you on fire from the inside out. You knew sleeping with Spencer would be special, and intense. But this is an entirely new level. His craving of you has blocked out all else, leaving him only with the mission to chase release. His, and your own.
"Oh, god, lay down, lay down, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum..." Spencer babbles, attempting to push you over onto your back. You follow his lead, his cock still sheathed inside you as you let him lead you where he wants. As soon as your body hits the mattress, he proceeds to ram himself into you as hard and as fast as he can.
"Fuck! Spencer!" You cry out as he hits an entirely new angle inside you, your ass resting over his knees as he thrusts forward. His hands grip your hips so hard, sure to leave dark bruises once he's through with you.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna fill you up, gonna cum deep inside this pussy..." Reid grunts, sweat slicking him down, stomach clenching as he's about lose it.
"Keep going, baby. Don't stop, I'm almost there. Cum for me." You whine as his cock slams into you again and again.
"Fuck!" He nearly shouts when he finally feels it, his balls tightening, bliss washing over him, his hips stuttering as he fills you with thick ropes of white.
All you can do is bear witness as Spencer cums, harder than he ever has in his life. His brows knit together, mouth falling open as he moans so fucking loud. He keeps slamming his cock into you, hoping to pull you down alongside him. Feeling his load spill inside of you, as well as his desperate thrusts sends you tumbling over the edge. "Oh, god! Spencer!" You cry as your orgasm rips through you mercilessly. Your pussy clenches down on Reid's spent length, making him gasp as he keeps thrusting to get you off. You thighs shake violently, stars blurring your vision, hands clawing at the sheets beneath you. It's the most beautiful thing Spencer has ever seen.
You both slowly come down from your high, soaked in sweat and totally spent. Spencer carefully pulls out of you, though you still wince a little. "You okay?" He asks, noting your discomfort.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit worn out." You laugh lightly, crawling over to the right end of the bed to lie down. Spencer joins you, pulling the covers over you both and taking you into his arms.
"Sorry about that, I don't know what came over me." He says, a little embarrassed for losing control the way he did.
"It's okay, baby. More than okay, actually." You reassure him once again, stroking his damp face with your thumb. "I'm surprised you had it in you." You chuckle, and he does, too.
"So am I. I guess you...bring it out in me." He explains, and you nod in understanding.
"And I take that as a compliment." You say with a sleepy smile. "Did you have enjoy yourself?" You ask.
"Very much. Even more than I thought I would." Spencer says earnestly, making your heart skip a beat.
"Me too, Spence. And I'm so happy you chose me to enjoy this with." You reply, leaning in to give him a tender kiss. This night has been the best one of your lives (so far), and you look forward to sharing many more moments just like this one in the future. Together.
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azzifuddslover · 2 days ago
Text
off the court
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
themes: jealousy, angst, pining
word count: 3.1k
tw: alcohol use, swearing
a/n: hii my lovely’s! i honestly dk how i feel about this chapter, but i hope u guys enjoy it regardless. also please ignore the shift from past to present tense 😭 i realized i fucked it up like mid way thru but oh well! the movies i mentioned are also so good GO WATCH EM. and if u cant tell i love blushing i find it so cutesy. ALSO ONE SHOT IDEAS PLEASEEEEE. anyway, enjoy and hope y’all have a good week!
CHAPTER THREE
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paige has a problem. it wasn’t that her aim was off, causing her to miss shot after shot. it wasn’t that her coach was yelling at her to get her head in the game. no, it wasn’t any of that. it was the fact paige couldn’t stop thinking about the curly brunette, even if her life depended on it.
ever since practice a few days ago, when azzi’s body was flush against hers, azzi had owned paige’s mind. and since her head is elsewhere, she failed to focus on everything else, especially basketball.
“what’s wrong with you?” nika asks paige, confused as to why her game was off, which is extremely rare for her.
without basketball, paige had nothing. basketball gave paige life, ever since a young age. even after trying other sports, her heart was always set on basketball. so when paige’s game had been acting up, it made her teammates, as well as coaches, confused.
paige glances at nika, “what? nothing.”
nika gave paige a don’t bullshit me look, “paige, cmon. you’ve been missing shots all day. something’s gotta be up.”
paige didn’t, wouldn’t tell nika about paige’s tiny issue. “i don’t know. bad day, i guess.”
“well get your shit together. we need you for tomorrow’s game.”
paige looks over at azzi, who was on the opposite side of the gym with caroline, “don’t worry, i will.”
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later that night, paige was already laying in bed when her phone buzzes. it was a text from aubrey, asking the team group chat if anyone wanted to hang.
dorka, paige’s roommate, was already quietly sleeping on the opposite side of the room. paige looks at the time, 9:41 pm; she figured hanging out with her friends wasn’t the worst idea.
paige soon arrives at aubrey’s dorm. she opens the door to find a variety of her teammates; nika was seated on aubrey’s bed along with aubrey, lou was on the floor, while azzi and caroline were on jana’s bed, who wasn’t present.
fuck. of course azzi would show up, despite it being late at night. it was as if azzi somehow knew paige had been thinking about her- appearing just to torment her.
the two met eyes, paige held eye contact a tad longer than she normally would. heat creeped up azzi’s neck.
since there wasn’t much room on either beds, paige slumps against the bed azzi was sitting on.
“so what were y’all doing before i came in?” paige questions her teammates.
“trying to decide on a movie, but nobody is agreeing,” nika replies, annoyance in her voice.
“i say we watch she’s the man, but everyone here doesn’t have good taste, so nobody agrees with me,” aubrey says, rolling her eyes.
paige turns her head up to azzi, “what was your suggestion?”
azzi was caught off guard by paige’s question, “uh, i said about time.”
“oh my god, i love that movie. i agree with azzi,” paige announces.
azzi was shocked, to say the least. she never imagined a world where paige would agree with her.
they settle on about time. nika grabbed a few snacks and passed them around, while lou brought a few drinks in from the tiny kitchen.
a couple minutes into the film, paige grew uncomfortable with her spot on the ground. azzi noticed it by the constant shifting she had been doing. azzi reaches down to tap paige’s shoulder.
“you can come up here if you’re uncomfortable,” azzi whispers so the others wouldn’t be disturbed, while softly patting the spot next to her on the bed.
paige notices that her and carol had already shifted down, making room for paige. her lips curled into a small smile.
without a second thought, paige lifts from the floor and gently sets herself next to azzi, thighs nearly touching.
“thanks,” paige whispers. azzi simply nodded her head.
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throughout the movie, paige’s thigh would occasionally graze azzi’s, sending butterflies to her stomach. there was a spark between the two, surely azzi felt it too.
caroline passes a bag of popcorn over to azzi, who instantly begins consuming it.
“can i have some?” paige questions lightly so she didn’t cause distractions for the others.
“of course,” azzi smiles, placing the popcorn in the middle of them.
their hands would graze while both going for the popcorn, paige let her touch linger longer than she should. she knew better. but her secret azzi fudd obsession got the better of her.
“sorry,” paige mutters, pulling her hand away after embarrassment covered her features.
“i don’t mind,” azzi looks at paige, a soft expression on her face.
paige had always been beautiful to azzi, but in this lighting, in aubrey’s small dorm, sitting on the same bed, mere inches apart, paige looked unreal. her blonde hair was the perfect kind of messy, lips were light pink, eyes so blue that they were practically transparent. paige’s cheeks flush at azzi’s eyes solely focused on her.
“okay guys! i’m exhausted, i’ll see y’all tomorrow,” nika jumps up from her spot, causing heads to look over at her.
paige and azzi took their attention away from each other, despite it being the hardest thing paige had to do.
“yeah, i should go too,” azzi agrees, beginning to move off the bed.
“same,” paige says, also moving from her spot.
the three say their goodbyes before leaving out aubrey’s dorm door. during the short walk down the hallway, the girls discuss their excitement for the first game of the season. they came to the end of the hall, where they could go either left, right, or continue straight. nika headed straight, off to her room. paige was going left, while azzi was going right. but both didn’t make any hints to move yet.
paige leans against the wall, azzi mimics her by doing the same on the opposite wall. a small smile crept onto her lips.
“you ready for tomorrow’s game?” paige questions the younger girl.
“beyond ready,” azzi’s smile only grows. she’s been waiting for this moment since before she could remember; her very first game in college basketball.
“you better be. i’m definitely gonna need you,” paige says without thinking. her eyes widen at her use of i’m. “we, i mean.”
azzi’s cheeks redden at paige’s comment about her needing azzi. not the team- her, accident or not.
“are you ready? you seemed kinda distracted at practice,” azzi brings up.
“i’m fine,” paige says harsher than she meant.
not wanting to deal with paige’s attitude, azzi sighs, “alright. see you tomorrow.”
paige desperately wanted azzi to stay with her. she wanted to grab her by the hand and pull her close; but she knew she couldn’t do that.
“yeah, see ya.”
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the next morning, paige immediately shuts down any azzi thoughts from the previous day. she needs to focus on the game. it was the first of the season, and she eagerly wanted to make it a good one.
she brushes her teeth, washes her face, dresses herself, as dorka did the same.
“ready for this, p?” dorka smiles, excitement buzzing off her tall frame.
“always,” she matches her smile.
the two girls grab their bags and head down to the dining hall to grab some breakfast. nika, aubrey, jana, lou, carol and azzi were already seated and eating away.
paige prepares her meal before taking the spot besides jana, directly across from none other than azzi. they quickly lock eyes before looking away equally as quickly.
the team discusses plays they wanted to run in the upcoming game, all participating and giving suggestions. they soon finish eating before heading down to the gym for some smaller workouts, to get somewhat warmed up.
paige was still struggling to make her shots that she’d normally be making. when azzi notices, she casually walks over.
“can i suggest something?” azzi asks.
paige looks over at her, “hm?”
azzi strolls closer to the older girl, close enough to where paige felt her breath on
the back of her neck.
“what are you doing?” paige asks, breathlessly.
azzi places her hand on paige’s, adjusting it to where she liked. she then moves her elbow, “fixing your form.”
once azzi was done, paige shoots the ball, and is surprised to see it actually go through the basket.
“thanks, i guess,” paige grins.
the two girls continue shooting, getting their reps in when the time came to begin actual warm ups.
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the game was about to begin; paige, nika, aubrey, azzi and jana were the starting 5. azzi feels an intense amount of pressure to do well, since she’s the only freshmen starting tonight.
the five girls huddle together, wide grins on their smiles, beyond ready to get this season going. paige speaks words of encouragement to her teammates as they all get into position.
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uconn was up by 31 points, azzi having 19 while paige has 21.
paige runs the ball up the court, eyeing each teammate of hers. she passes the ball over to nika, who throws it over to azzi. she effortlessly makes the open 3, causing loud roars from the uconn student section.
the team was on a 9-0 run in the third quarter when paige sprints near half court and collides with a member from the other team.
azzi watches it happen and rushes over a little too quickly, for someone who claimed to hate her. azzi appears in front of the older girl, who was lying on the floor face up, and gently places her hands on her knees.
“are you okay?” azzi asks, worry laced in her tone.
paige was silent for a moment, still dazed by the impact. but when she glanced up at the brunette, a sense of calm quickly washed over her.
“yeah,” she answers, grabbing azzi’s hands that were being held out to her.
their hands held onto one another’s a moment too long. their bodies were slightly touching; neither made any movements.
it wasn’t until coach auriemma yelled at them did either of the girls make a move. paige was substituted for ashlynn to rest, and eventually, azzi was also subbed out for caroline to give other players a chance to play, as they were dominating the opposing team.
azzi settles down next to paige, the only spot open on the bench. their thighs were full on touching since the seats were so tight.
azzi rests her elbows on her knees before turning to paige, “you sure you’re okay? that fall looked like it hurt.”
paige smiles at azzi’s worry, “why? do you care or something?” she teases.
azzi’s face lit up with red, “um, no. of course not.”
paige lets out a soft chuckle before playfully pushing the brunette’s face, who who responds with a wide grin, dimples and all.
paige matches her smile with one of her own. god. she was otherworldly.
“you’re so fucking pretty,” paige mumbles, barely audible for azzi to hear, while dropping her heads, wrapping her arms under.
“sorry, what’d you say?”
“nothing,” paige replies, definitely not repeating her words.
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the game ends, the teams high five one another before heading to the locker rooms.
“guys, since we played so well today, we should definitely celebrate,” jana suggests.
“what are you thinking?” nika asks, a smile tugging at her lips.
“ted’s, of course,” she laughs, “is everyone good with 7?”
each team member agree to meet at ted’s, the bar most uconn students attended, around 7. paige was buzzing at the idea of a dirty shirley temple, desperately needing one to get her mind off someone.
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paige showered, applied light makeup, and picked out a comfortable but nice outfit.
around 6:55, paige leaves her apartment with dorka at her side, heading to ted’s.
the bar was absolutely packed with uconn students as well as the women’s basketball team. nika was talking to the bartender, aubrey was laughing at something jana said, while azzi was throwing back a shot.
the air seemed to shift when paige’s gaze lands on the young brunette. her heart instantly quickens as she took in her outfit. a light purple tank top that fit her in all the right places, paired with jean shorts that were doing wonders for her ass. her curls were down, slightly messy but in the most beautiful way possible.
making eye contact with paige causes azzi’s breath to hitch. heat floods her cheeks as she remembers the moments between them from earlier today.
stepping closer to the bar, paige lowers herself into an open seat, directly across from azzi who was completely surrounded by teammates. dorka took the spot next to her while lou made herself over to the two girls.
“dorka! p!” lou greets them, clearly already drunk.
“hey lou lou,” dorka smiles at her friend.
paige waves over the bartender, “can i please have a dirty shirley temple?”
the bartender nods, immediately reaching for a glass. paige was dying for a drink in her hand to take her mind off everything and everyone.
the shirley burns her throat as she took several gulps, downing nearly half the glass.
“calm down there, p,” dorka laughs at paige’s urgency to consume the drink as fast as possible.
“just thirsty,” paige replies.
after finishing her second shirley temple is when she noticed a tall man talking to azzi. her azzi. her fists clench at her sides as she throws a glare their way.
the man then lowers himself into the open seat next to her while casually shifting close, making their faces mere inches apart. azzi fidgets with her fingers, suddenly nervous from the attention.
paige presses her lips in a line to hold back her growing anger that was screaming to come out. all she wanted to do was walk over there and take what’s hers.
paige orders several more drinks, shots, whatever she could to hopefully get rid of the scene in front of her.
when a piece of azzi’s hair falls in front of her face, the man reaches out and brushes it behind her ear. his hand lingers for a moment too long, only causing paige to become more aggravated.
azzi laughs at something he said and paige decides she’s had enough. although she was completely aware she shouldn’t be doing this, she was supposed to hate azzi, she couldn’t help herself. she clutches her drink tightly in her grasp, a idea trickling in her head, and marches over there.
azzi almost instantly spots the blonde moving towards her at a rapid pace. her eyes widen when paige accidentally trips, spilling her drink all over the man.
satisfaction covered paige’s features, proud of her doing.
“jesus fucking christ!” he yelps, quickly jumping up from his position next to azzi.
“i am so sorry,” paige pretends to be genuine and concerned, even though herself and azzi knew it was complete bullshit.
the man grabs napkins, desperately trying to pat himself down, but ultimately failing. he walks away without as much as a glance back at the curly brunette, who continues to remain silent.
“did you seriously have to do that?” azzi questions paige, annoyance on her face.
“it was an accident, azzi,” paige sighs.
“sure it was,” azzi mutters as she grips her drink.
“it was,” paige replies defensively.
paige allows herself to sit where the man once was, feeling the air grow electric with the two being so close. azzi looks almost shaken by their close proximity, her eyes roaming paige’s body.
“paigey!” nika slurs, suddenly grabbing paige’s shoulders.
paige turns to her friend who was beaming, “what’s up nik?”
“oh my goodness, you totally missed it…” nika rants on and on about the hot bartender who was totally checking her out.
“i’ll be back,” nika grins as she jogs off to talk with the bartender once again.
“at least she’s getting some action,” azzi says, rolling her eyes.
“oh my god, i am so sorry i ruined the two minute conversation you had with some idiot. if you’re so interested in him, then be my guest; go find the fucker.”
“maybe i will,” azzi bites out, getting up from her spot and taking off towards the crowd.
it shocks paige that azzi actually went through with it- disappoints her, too. did she genuinely like the guy?
regretting her words, paige follows azzi’s trail, quickly catching up to the freshmen. she grabs her arm, making her twist around to face her.
“please, wait,” paige slurs in her drunken state.
“what do you want?” azzi questions, desperate to know paige’s intentions.
“you,” paige whispers, so quietly azzi can barely make it out.
“speak up, paige,” azzi replies, annoyed.
“please don’t go after him.”
azzi’s eyes crinkle, “and why not? you’re not my keeper.”
paige rests her hands on either one of azzi’s hips, uncontrollably pulling the younger girl closer.
“i know. i know,” she whispers, “just stay. stay here with me.”
azzi was taken aback from paige’s soft tone and sweet words. it was unlike paige to be like this to azzi, so azzi pieced together she must be drunk out of her mind.
“you’re drunk, paige,” azzi says.
“i’m sober enough,” paige’s lips turn up as she moves her hands to azzi’s face.
with her face in her hands, paige rests her forehead against the curly brunette’s, while her gaze drops down to her full, pink lips.
“what are you doing, paige?”
paige closes her eyes, not wanting to think about everything wrong with what she was doing and how it’d be like tomorrow.
“i don’t know. fuck, i don’t know. i just want to be close to you,” she whispers.
azzi gently places her hands on paige’s waist, pulling the older girl impossibly closer.
“fuck, az,” paige mutters, “i can’t stop thinking about you.”
paige was all azzi could hear, despite the loud crowd and blasting music around her. and her words meant everything.
“no matter how hard i try, you’re always there. you with your perfect curls and cute ass dimples,” paige smiles, twisting with a singular curl with her finger.
“oh yeah?” azzi matches the grin.
“yeah,” paige says, gaze focused on her lips.
right as paige leans in, azzi suddenly jerks back, her eyes wide with panic.
“p- paige, no. you’re drunk. you’ll regret it tomorrow,” she stutters, frantically stepping out of paige’s touch.
paige reaches out for azzi’s frame, “no i won’t.”
practically tripping over herself, azzi rushes over to her previous seat with paige right on her heels. she grabs her belongings before giving a lone glance back at the blonde; she was breathing hard, hands slightly shaking, with a disappointed yet shameful expression on her face.
azzi turns away and is gone before paige had the time to blink.
“god fucking dammit,” paige mutters to herself, ashamed of her actions that caused azzi to run off.
paige finds an open spot at the bar and orders yet another round of shots, not caring about the concerned looks she was receiving from her teammates.
paige swallows shot after shot, trying to drown her sorrows and any lingering thoughts of azzi. of course she had to ruin whatever was happening between them. of course.
“paige, don’t you think that’s enough for tonight?” aubrey cautiously questions her friend.
paige drunkenly chuckles, “not even close,” throwing back another burning shot.
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ink-and-dagger · 1 day ago
Note
Hi Legacy, thank you for your comment and for your compliment about my writing. Unfortunately, Tumblr wouldn’t let me leave this response to your comment under the fic, so I am having to add it onto your reblog. Something I really, genuinely, did not want to have to do.
I hear what you are saying, and am in full agreement with you - tags play a vital role in reader protection, and there’s nothing more frustrating (and in some cases dangerous) than people misusing them.
However, a few words now in my own defence.
I am not new here. I have been writing and posting Silco fics since Arcane first aired back in 2021. It seems more likely in this case that you are new if not to the Arcane fandom then to my blog/writing specifically - so allow me to provide a bit of context which may help, because I don’t believe this case is as cut-and-dry as you believe it to be. I began posting my multi-chapter Silco x Reader fic Drink With Me in January 2022, and updated regularly until its completion in July of that same year. I was extremely lucky in that my story gained a lot of traction and interaction within the fandom throughout that time. People became extremely invested in the Reader character, and would ask me all sorts of questions about her. That’s how Astrid was born. She became a point of reference outside the fic for those who wanted someone to visualise, whilst the fic itself remained strictly a Reader Insert. In the few years since this story wrapped up, my followers have remained invested in the ‘Drink With Me’ universe (again, I’m incredibly lucky and thankful for this), and to this day I receive tons of requests for bonus content set within this universe that I try to fulfil whenever I can. Despite these ficlets being connected to a main multi-chapter fic, most of them can easily be read as a standalone and do not require the context or any prior knowledge of the main fic to make sense. Additionally, as I did with the main fic, they are always written in 2nd person, the character is never referred to by name, and I never use any physical descriptors beyond anatomical ones during smut. If you were to take away any and all tags and look purely at the text alone, it reads as a traditional reader insert, which is why I tag it as such. I include the ‘Astrid’ and ‘OC’ tags for those people who are familiar with the DWM fic and universe and who specifically follow me for this reason, so that they know in their minds that the ficlet relates to the world/timeline of Drink With Me in some way shape or form. I think the point I’m trying to make is that those who are familiar with me and my work will see the ‘Astrid/OC’ tag and go “Ah cool it’s this universe”. Whereas for everyone else I add the ‘can be read as gen!reader insert’ note at the top so that they can go “Ah cool, let me just ignore that character tag then” and happily read it as a general reader insert fic perfectly fine. I hope that makes a bit more sense as to why I tag this way, why I’ve always tagged this way, and why I will continue to tag this way for my Drink With Me adjacent works. If I ever were to write something in 1st or 3rd person or that described the MC in a very specific way, then I would of course not tag that as a reader fic.
Now, so long as we’re here discussing fandom etiquette, I’d like to politely point out that adding your grievance onto the reblog of a specific fic is not a ‘gentle reminder’ - it’s a full-frontal attack on the author who wrote that fic. It would have been far better for you to create your own, separate post addressing the fandom as a whole, or to send me a quiet, private comment/DM on the side.
As I’ve already said, I empathise with your point of view, and I hope you are able to empathise with mine. If the way I choose to tag my work bothers you, then please feel free to block my account so that I don’t show up whilst you are searching for content. At the end of the day we are all individual humans - you cannot expect everyone to interpret/measure/categorise everything in the same way you would, and it’s imperative to take some measure of responsibility for cultivating your own online space, instead of relying on others to do it for you.
What if Astrid find a pic of young Silco by accident hehhehehehhehehehehhe
Snapshot
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A Drink With Me ficlet
870 words || Established relationship || Silco x Astrid (but can be read as gen f!reader) || SFW but suggestive || MDNI
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“Oh my Gods.”
“What?”
“Oh. My Gods.”
Time has stripped the photograph between your fingers of its glossy sheen and has left the edges blunt and frayed, but you would recognise those features anywhere; no less sharp nor striking through the faded sepia.
“This is you.”
It had slipped from between two ledgers as you’d perused Silco’s bookshelves – an activity more to entertain your idle hands than a genuine search for reading material. The image itself is simple and candid: A young man, seemingly oblivious to the fact his portrait is being taken, sat at a familiar bar, with eyes downcast toward a spread of papers.
That same man looks up at you now from a very similar spread of papers. “What is?”
“This.” You drift over to his desk and perch on its edge, all the while unable to tear your gaze from the photo in your hands. The pitch dark hair swept back into a low bun. The familiar strays – the same ones that even now will always be the first to escape any styling under the combing of agitated fingers – falling forward into his face, only far longer and thicker than you’re used to. His skin, unblemished and smooth, save for the chronic furrow between his brows – etched there long before time and tragedy ravaged the rest.
Silco hums absently; an indication that he acknowledges your discovery but finds little interest in it. You can imagine the man in the photograph making the exact same noise, were someone to distract him from his paperwork for a reason he deemed benign. You flip the photo over. No date.
“How old are you here?”
Silco exhales through his nose, places his pen down with a pointed clack, and extends his hand wordlessly toward you.
“Hah! Do you think I’m wet behind the ears?” you hold the photograph out of his reach, “You can tell just fine from over there thank you very much.”
He cuts you a scathing glance, before leaning forward in his chair with a foreboding creak to peer more closely at the image. His scarred lips purse slightly in thought.
“Mid–late twenties. I can’t say for certain.”
“You were hot.”
“Were?”
“Were and are,” you coo, reclining backwards over the desk into his space, one elbow pitched on his paperwork to hold your weight whilst you flap the photograph in front of his face, “Can I keep this?”
“For what reason?”
“Dirty ones.”
“Hardly necessary,” Silco says, the very corner of his mouth creasing upwards as he catches your wrist to halt your photo-flapping, “You have access to the real thing.”
“True, true, and you can be sure I’ll continue taking advantage of that.” You grin, shoving your captured, photo-wielding arm a little closer to him in emphasis, “But right now I’m talking about some alone time with this guy.”
Silco scoffs under his breath and releases your wrist. You twist onto your front, weight propped on both elbows as you admire the photograph in your grip. You trace a finger down the slender throat of the man in the photo, over the generous wedge of chest exposed by his open crimson collar.
“D’you think he’d notice me? If I came into that bar?”
“Oh I’m certain he would.”
“Yeah?” You lift your gaze from the man in the photo to the one before you – as equally breathtaking. More so. You catch your lower lip between your teeth. “What line would he use?”
Silco hums, low and thoughtful, leaning forward in his chair, closing in on your space. He picks up his abandoned pen, briefly twirling the implement until it’s poised between his elegant fingers like a cigarette. Nib safely facing his own palm.
“After downing the dregs of his drink for courage... he would have approached you.”
With sensual tenderness, he brushes the barrel of his pen along your cheek, warmed metal against warmer skin. Catching at the curve of your jawline, and tracing over your pulse in a way that makes it fumble a beat.
“Cast his gaze over each of your pretty, pretty features. One by one,” he murmurs, slowly drawing the end of the pen down your jugular, down the slope of your collar bone, to leisurely trail through the cut of your cleavage. The corner of your mouth hooks up. The warmth low in your belly coils a little tighter.
“He would have leaned in close,” Silco whispers, demonstrating just so, “Close enough that you’d almost taste the whiskey on his breath.”
Blunt metal drags a purposeful line up your throat, and your lips part softly as he tilts your face toward his with the barrel of his pen flat and firm beneath your chin.
“And asked you – very nicely – to stop leaning on his paperwork.”
You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek while Silco’s dual eyes sizzle with smug mirth. It’d be unthinkable, really – to forfeit either one for the sake of a matching pair.
You straighten and push off his desk, hips swaying as you saunter over to the bedroom with the photograph in hand.
“Well,” you say, pausing in the threshold and turning to him with a smirk, “If you need us, you know where we’ll be.”
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writingwithfolklore · 21 hours ago
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How to Ask for Stuff
Being able and knowing how to ask for things that you want is an incredibly important skill for… y’know, getting what you want. Whether it’s mentorship, feedback, an explanation or quick advice, networking, a job, etc. etc. etc. it's important you ask the right way to have the best chance of success.
There’s three things that should be in your request:
1. Who are you—how are you related?
This should be short and sweet. “I am a university student studying major, and was in professor’s class where you presented last week.” Or “I am a recent graduate looking to get a foothold in blah blah industry, and saw you had a lot of experience on your linkedIn profile.”
You really don’t need more than that to make yourself relevant and create a connection with this person, and it immediately sets you apart as an individual/real person. People are more likely to help people that they feel like they know in some way, rather than a complete stranger. If you are a complete stranger, explain why you decided to reach out to them specifically.
2. What exactly are you looking for
Be as specific as possible. It is far better to say, “I am looking for feedback on the first five pages of my novel, specifically around if the opening grabs the audience.” Than, “I am looking for feedback.”
This part can be a little bit scary because it is the actual asking for what you want part, but if people know exactly what you want, they will find it a lot easier to help you. Other things you can ask for: “I am looking to sit down with you for coffee and discuss your experience in the industry.” Or “I was hoping you may have some leads for where to start with my job search” etc. etc.
3. What will the project/request look like?
This will help the person decide if they have the time or availability to do what you are asking for. If you’re looking to meet with them, include your availability and where or how you are able to meet. If it’s more of a feedback situation, include when you would need notes back by and how you would like to receive said notes. So,
“I am available Monday through Friday after 5pm to meet. Please let me know if you are interested and available within that schedule!”
“If you are interested, I would love the opportunity to get on a Zoom call with you to discuss feedback. I am available any time on weekends, and would prefer if you were able to get back to me by March 1st as I will need time to adjust the piece for the due date.”
Etc. etc.
              It’s important that you maintain a professional and friendly tone, even with people who have already agreed to help you. Some ways of asking for things that I have received that I find very discouraging are:
Disinterested
I got a request that was basically, “help me if you want, I don’t care it doesn’t matter to me either way.” If you don’t care, then why would I care? Only reach out to people you genuinely want to collaborate in some way with, and make clear that you are interested in working with them. We’re not trying to look cool and disinterested here.
Impatient
Everyone is busy all the time. If your person doesn’t reply right away, do not send a message back around the lines of, “um hello??” or “are you going to reply or not?” this comes across as pretty rude and a bit entitled to that person’s time and immediate attention. If your person doesn’t reply, you can send a follow up after a week, and maintain the same tone as in your initial email/message:
“Hi (name), this is a friendly follow-up on my request. If you have any additional questions for me, please let me know. I am also able to accommodate another time slot if needed. Thank you!”
As the asker, it is your job to be flexible. Of course, if your person can’t make your hard deadline or you really can’t make your schedules work, thank them anyway and move on, but if you are able to accommodate them, do so!
Here is an example email to start you off:
Hello (person’s name), My name is (blank) and I am a (major) student/graduate from (blank) University. We met at the (place) job fair last week, and I was really intrigued by your experience in (blah) industry. I was wondering if you would be available to meet with me sometime in the next week to discuss how you got started in the industry and your experience at (company). I am available between (time) and (time) (days of the week), but may be able to accommodate a different time if it would work better for you. Please let me know if you are interested! Thank you, (Full name)
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therapyandprozac · 2 days ago
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Title: Daddy
Rating: Explicit Smut
Warnings: Daddy kink ofc, Edging, Teasing, Praise kink, Toys, Light BDSM
Words: 1.2k
I didn’t add a name so this is for any fandom or character you wish! (is there a word for this?)
Posted before I could think too much about it 🙈 enjoy ☺️
“Can we talk about something?”
“Yes, love!” He smiles and focuses his attention on you. You blush, you’ve been practicing this conversation in your head for days but you still instantly turn bright red. Doing everything to avoid eye contact you cover your face with your hands. “Wow baby, look at that blush!” He says pulling your arms away from your face, you pull them back to you. However, he’s substantially stronger than you are and easily exposes your face. “What is it?” A huge smile crosses his face.
“I umm,” you start. He guides you to taking a few breaths and staring at the couch. “Well, we’ve been together for a while. We’ve talked about and have done…stuff…” You feel yourself turn into a tomato again as he smirks.
“We have indeed done ‘stuff.’” He laughs.
“What do you want me to call you?” You ask, squeezing your eyes shut.
“What do you mean love?” He asks, trying to understand your vague question.
“Like umm, like daddy or sir or something.” You pause and he stays quiet. Your heart races and you jump into a mini rant. “I just the last time we-, you were very…I don’t know...in character and I wanted to call you a title but I didn’t know which of them, if any, you wanted.” You rattle off incredibly fast before being abruptly stopped by the softest lips you’ve ever felt. A familiar feeling of the anxiety of finishing the question, waves away like a rolling tide, the only thing you needed was for him to respond.
“That,” His voice is deep in an almost growl as he continues. “Is an excellent question. No need for blushes or hiding, you can ask me anything without worry, my love.” He cups your cheek. “Which do you prefer?” He asks, his voice coated in velvet. You blush even deeper and look back at the couch quickly. He raises an eyebrow and repeats the question. You don’t answer, way too embarrassed. He waits a few beats before continuing “Would it help if I told you my favorite?” He whispers against your mouth.
You nod rubbing your nose against his. His pupils flutter as he leans forward and bites your ear gently. “Daddy.” He growls. His voice has a that sultry gravel that he only gets when he’s about to fuck you until you can’t walk. You moan and grind against nothing. He takes that as a sign and grabs you so you’re straddling him.
“You’re so hot when you’re too embarrassed to talk. You talk to people for a living, doll.” He nuzzles and kisses your neck as a blush covers your chest and cheeks. “But when you’re here…with me. You can barely put two words together.” You reach your hand down and palm him through his jeans, his breath quickens and he groans.
“Bed?” You whimper. He nods and follows you up the stairs to your room. Stripping along the way, once you get to the room you’re both completely naked. He pushes you against the door, he puts his thigh between your legs for you to grind against. You moan and whisper “Please…daddy,”
“Yes?” He says as if you aren’t coming undone on his leg.
“Please fuck me, god I need you.”
“As you wish.” He says and tosses you on the bed before he kneels in front of your glistening pussy. He gently runs his tongue up the entirety of your cunt. He toys with your clit making you squirm and beg for more. Quick flicks and slow licks, you love how he takes his time and savors every gasp and whine. He slowly puts two long, thick fingers inside, you groan and roll your hips. He plays your body perfectly massaging your g spot and clit with his thumb. All the while taking each of your hands and cuffing them to the bed. He brings you so close with rhythmic, well practiced precision before rapidly pulling his fingers out of you.
“Nope not yet,” he stands up, licking his fingers and smirking. “I am quite proud of you.” He opens a box with a ribbon on it and pulls out a big pink…something. He’s far away but all questions resolve when you hear the vibrations. He turns around delicately playing with the shaking, not so delicate object in his hands as he continues.
“I’m sure that question was burning in your brain for a while, wasn’t it.” You nod. “I can’t hear you, my sweet thing.” He says in a gentle sing-songy voice (think moriarty) as he walks slowly toward you.
“Way too long.” You whimper, already a desperate mess.
“I can hear you pacing, in the elevator at work…” He steps closer and massages the rumbling toy in his hand.
“You mumble under your breath, rehearsing it in the tub, the car…maybe even our last few times.” You instantly blush so deeply. “Hmm that looks like a yes.” You go to cover your eyes but you're stopped by the cuffs.
“Was daddy your favorite too?” You nod frantically with needy groans. Watching his hands get closer to your cunt, he stops and turns the vibratior off.
“Why?” You whine.
“There’s your beautiful voice!” He exclaims. “When I ask you questions,” he runs his fingers gently up from your legs, across your stomach, between your tits and up your neck, placing it finally and firmly to the side of your head to balance himself steadily above you.
“It’s because I want to hear your answers, doll.” He leans in and rests just above your lips, you feel his breath on your lips. “So I ask again, what was your favorite one?” He whispers, the faint minty and familiar feeling of him talking into your mouth washes over you. You smile under his lips and gather all of the brat and (something)) energy you’ve pent up, sass laced tongue and with direct eye contact.
“Daddy.” The smugness falls from your face when you hear the vibratior turn on. A dark and twisted semi sadistic smile covers his face. He breathes in the moment time feels stopped while he looks you over. Light perspiration and pleading eyes, he loves teasing and gentle mind games with his desperate little plaything.
“Mmm, that's my girl.” His voice runs across gravel as he pins the toy to your clit. You cry out and immediately hold your breath to silence yourself. “Breathe baby!” You gasp and when you catch your breath you muffle yourself again and groan under your voice.
“For the love of,” he pulls the toy away and you whine. He taps your clit with the device making a rhythm of whines and groans spill from you. He goes on too long just teasing and taunting…edging you. He hasn’t edged you in so long.
“Oh god yes please, more daddy please please!!”
“Yes, beautiful sweetheart,” he whispers and bites your ear lobe, continuing his tormenting of your clit. You moan and pant heavily, after one deep breath and turning the vibrator to its max setting, you’re so so close, teetering on the edge until he groans against your ear. “Cum for me, my sweet girl.” Your brain snaps and you cum loudly with your nails digging into his skin a little of his blood runs under your nails. You nearly wail as the first orgasam of a very long night rips through your body.
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torturedtypewritersdept · 2 days ago
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proclivity - pt. five - I know the end
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✯ pairing:
ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader
✯ summary:
at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!
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You didn’t talk to Rafe until Wednesday when he texted you before your shift. 
R: can’t wait to see you, pretty girl :) 
Y: me too <3
You wanted to tell him everything so badly, about JJ showing up and everything you went through with him, but you couldn’t do that over the phone. There was no telling what he'd do when he found out. So you waited. You got to the Club before him on Wednesday, clocking in and tending to your tables, which were already full. It was going to be a busy night and usually you would welcome that, it helped pass the time. But, not today. Today, all you wanted was to talk to Rafael. 
You were busy with one of your tables when he walked in. He admired the black cocktail uniform that clung to your body and the way your hair hung in its low ponytail. He felt lucky to know you, to get to watch as you interacted with your regular customers, always kind, no matter the circumstances. You didn’t do it because you had to, you did it because that’s just who you were. You flirted with your eyes as you spotted him and he returned it, a small smile lacing his features. It was thirty minutes before you could get away from your tables due to the dinner rush, but Rafe made a point to stay at the bar until he got a chance to speak to you. Even though looking at you was always enough, he wanted to hear your sweet voice in his ears. 
“Rafael.” 
You whispered into his ear, blowing in it, as you came up behind him. It sent shivers down his spine. 
“Hey, pretty girl.” 
He replied with a smile on his face, finally hearing that voice, that sound he had been craving. You slowly made your way behind the bar so you could stand in front of him and look at his handsome face. Rafe and handsome have always been synonymous words in your brain, but he didn’t need to know that. You quickly got to work, making a drink. A Tequila sunrise. It was your favorite to make, mostly because of how pretty the hues of orange and pink were, hence its name. You sat it in front of Rafe. 
“I didn’t order this-”
“It’s on the house.” 
You replied, winking at him. 
“Well what is it? It looks girly.” 
He chuckled. 
“It’s my favorite. Just try it.” 
You giggled at him and he sipped it slowly. His face shriveled up as the familiar taste of way too much tequila hit his lips. 
“Jesus, Y/n, who taught you how to mix drinks? This is awful.” 
His comment made you chuckle heartily. 
“That would be you, Rafael.” 
He grinned cheekily as he recalled the first time he asked you to make him a margarita, which you failed miserably at, prompting him to teach you how. You had never really mastered the skill of mixing drinks, but he pretended you were okay at it to appease you. Rafe was brought out of his thoughts as he watched your body tense up. He wondered if he had said or did the wrong thing and then he followed your eyes, as they landed on JJ who was across the room with Kiara, sitting in your section. 
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”
You whispered, hoping Rafe wouldn’t hear you. He reached out, grazing your hand with his fingertips as you vigorously wiped down the wood of the bar. 
“You want me to beat him up, again?” 
Rafe questioned innocently and you chuckled. 
“No, he’s not worth it.” 
“He is if you’re upset.” 
Rafe stated, matter-of-factly.
“It’s not that, it’s just he knows this is my section and he sat in it on purpose. They just want to torture me like it’s not bad enough he slept with my best friend.”
The sadness that laced your voice made Rafe’s chest tight. 
“Go take care of your tables and I’ll be right here the whole time. You just put your hand behind your back and ball up a fist if you need me, okay?” 
You nodded, thankful Rafe chose today of all days to be here. You slowly but surely made your way from behind the bar and headed to the Carrera’s table. 
“Hey guys! How are you?” 
The Carerra’s faces lit up at seeing you. They had no idea why you hadn’t been coming around or the way their daughter had betrayed you. It wasn’t their fault she was a bitch and you weren’t going to punish them for it. 
“Hey, sweet girl! We miss you. Where have you been?” 
Kiara’s mom asked. She was an angel and always had been and you loved her. 
“Just working.”
You gave your ex-best friend’s parents a tight lipped smile. Kiara’s eyes were apologetic even though she had never said she was sorry for what she had done. 
“Well, we miss you. You should come see us soon!” 
Mr. Carerra spoke up. 
“I will. So what can I get you guys?” 
“JJ and I will have two bacon cheeseburgers and a basket of fries to share.” 
Kiara spoke with a cheeky smile, flaunting the consolation prize of her betrayal, a piece of shit pogue boy who is going nowhere. You had never had a problem with the Pogues until you had become one and they all betrayed you by covering up JJ’s infidelity. The Pogues were poison, just like Rafe had warned you all those years ago. 
“I’m gonna hit the head.” 
JJ muttered, surely feeling awkward about Kiara’s incessant need to be a show off. She wasn’t always this awful and you weren’t sure when she had taken a turn for the worst. 
“What about you, Mike?”
You questioned Mr. Carerra. 
“I’ll take the 15 oz ribeye. Medium rare with potatoes and green beans.” 
“Yes, sir. That sounds amazing!” 
You reply with faux enthusiasm.
“You’ll have to pull up a chair with us and grab a bite to eat.” 
He spoke, his kind gesture making your heart melt. 
“I definitely will if I can go on my break soon.” 
You smiled at him. 
“And for you, Anna?” 
You questioned Kiara’s mother. 
“I’ll do the chef salad with ranch, dear. I’d also love a small side of the mac and cheese.” 
She smiled softly, you missed the warmth that you felt when she smiled at you.
“You got it, I’ll be right back with the food. Can I get you guys anything to drink?” 
You asked.
“Just make sweet tea for all of us, sweetheart.” 
Anna spoke kindly and you nodded. 
Rafe watched as you made your way back to the kitchen to make their drinks and put the order in. After a few minutes he began to get a little worried, his radar for you always on high alert. For some reason it was taking you a long time to come back to him and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. That’s when he saw it, JJ Maybank had you cornered in the hallway of the dining room. He stayed back though, knowing you’d give him your signal if you needed help. Rafe was always very protective of you but he always tried to let you fight your own battles. Mostly because once when he defended you in the third grade by beating up the boy who was teasing you, you kicked him in the balls and let him know that you were your own hero. That was the day he realized he loved you. He smiled at the memory of your pigtails and the redness of your cheeks. Then, suddenly, Rafe was brought out of his thoughts at hearing bits and pieces of the venomous words JJ was speaking to you and he sprung into action as he saw your fist balled up behind your back. He made his way over to you, half-running, his protective nature overcoming his logical thinking. 
“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?” 
He watched you as you visibly relaxed under his presence, knowing there was no way JJ could hurt you in Rafe’s presence. 
“Hey, Rafey-” 
You were cut off by JJ’s sneer. 
“Everything was perfectly fine until you fucking interrupted our conversation.” 
JJ spat in Rafe's direction.
“I clearly wasn’t asking you douchebag, I was asking her.” 
Rafe responded nonchalantly. You could feel the anger emanating from him, his chest warm on your back, but he was holding back. You knew he was doing it for you. If that didn't prove he wasn't the same rafe you used to know, you didn't know what did.
“Right and here I was thinking you were calling me sweetheart.” 
JJ spoke sarcastically. His sarcasm you used to find endearing, charming even, and now, it just made him more of a dick.
“What a shame JJ. Are you regretting losing my girl, that’s why you got her cornered in a dark hallway. Is Kie not enough for you?” 
And - there it was. Rafe’s tone was laced with danger and he willed JJ to use his words correctly before he killed him with his bare hands. 
“Your girl?! I’m not regretting anything if you must fucking know.” 
JJ spat, almost unable to control his emotions.
“I mean, no judgment at all dude, she’s easily the best girl on this island.” 
Rafe gave him a wink. He was a cocky little bastard when he wanted to be.
“Oh, you’d know, wouldn’t you? Haven’t you had every girl on the island?” 
JJ questioned. He was a real asshole when he wanted to be.
“Could say the same to you, you know since you're passing your dick around like it’s the community pool.” 
Rafe spit back.
“Rafael-”
You spoke softly, feeling the vibration of your glucose monitor go off. You didn’t feel right, something was wrong. You placed your hand limply around his bicep, urging him to back off and call it a day. 
“Rafael? Who the fuck is Rafael and why are you touching him like that?” 
JJ questioned, confusedly. 
“That would be me, big guy.” 
Rafe muttered, raising his two fingers like attendance was being taken in homeroom. 
“I-”
“You know what, if you must know, it’s none of your business how she touches me or how often she uses a nickname with me or how many times she’s kissed me.” 
Rafe growled.
“How many times she what-” 
The hurt and jealousy that laced JJ’s eyes was something you’d never seen before.
“Joseph-” 
You whispered Rafe’s middle name, which got his attention. You never called him Joseph, ever, and when he looked into your eyes he knew something was wrong. It clicked in his brain too late, as he felt you loosen your grip from his arm and he watched in horror as you hit the ground. Your head bounced off the carpet and you started convulsing violently. 
“Angel! No! No, no, no, no, no.” 
Rafe’s panicked voice echoed through the club as he yelled. 
“Turn her on her side! She’s having a diabetic seizure!” 
JJ interjected, yelling as he got down rolling you onto your side while Rafe stabilized your head. 
“JJ, call 911!” 
Rafe screeched.
“I’m on it!” 
He yelled as he ran to grab his phone from the table, meeting Kiara’s eyes as he ran quickly back to you and Rafe. 
“It’s okay, sweet, baby girl. You’re gonna be okay. I’m right here.” 
Rafe whispered as he counted the seconds until your body stopped convulsing. He was careful with your head, scared he’d hurt you or that you would have brain damage when you woke up. Kiara had followed JJ back to Rafe, curious as to why her boyfriend was so distressed. 
“J-”
Her voice faltered as she caught your unconscious form on the carpet of the country club. 
“What the fuck is this? Why are you helping her?!” 
She yelled in JJ’s direction, confusion and hurt, lacing her tone. 
“Kie-, please tell me you’re not so insecure that you care that he’s trying to help me save your best friend from dying right now.” 
Rafe growled in her direction and she made her way back to the table in tears. The ambulance got there quickly and immediately administered insulin and oxygen, which seemed to bring your vitals up. Rafe hopped in the back with you, not caring about leaving his truck at the club. He’d uber to get it later, once he knew you were okay. 
-
When you started to stir, the first thing you noticed was the smell of sterilization and the weight of something pricking the hand of your skin. You were in the hospital. Shit. Willing yourself to pry your eyes open, you slowly blinked, taking in a tall figure, reading a book beside you, one of his hands in yours. You coughed, your throat and mouth extremely dry. His blue eyes met yours and you registered who it was. Rafael. 
He stood up, making his way closer to you, standing over your head, in your line of vision. Rafe’s hands cupped your cheeks and he placed a kiss on your forehead before he spoke. 
“Hey, pretty girl. How are you feeling?” 
You tried to speak but your mouth was dry and then it dawned on you, your dad was going to kill you. You tried to sit up, which was a huge mistake as the movement shook your head a little too hard. Rafe pushed you back down by your shoulders. 
“Easy, Tiger.” 
He spoke softly, bringing a cup of water with a straw up to your lips, as he sat in front of you on the bed. You swallowed vigorously, like it was the first cup of water you’d had in ten years. 
“Slow down, baby.” 
He whispered in a sweet tone. You made eye contact with him after you decided you had enough of the beverage. 
“Rafe, what happened?” 
You questioned, confusedly.
“Your pump stopped working and you had a seizure from not getting your insulin.” 
You nodded your head in response, shock rittling your senses at his words. It shouldn’t have surprised you after how many times it had happened, but it did and it hurt your feelings every single one. 
“Will you lay with me?” 
You asked, as sweet as could be and he couldn't deny you.
“Of course, sweet girl.” 
Rafe crawled into the bed next to you, letting you cuddle into him and lay your head on his chest. His heartbeat brought you solace. He stroked your hair gently, his fingertips barely grazing the strands, and placed a kiss on your bandaged forehead. You had a concussion and some stitches from where you hit your head on the floor and he was as careful as possible when he placed the kiss, scared he’d hurt you. 
“Rafael, thank you for taking care of me and for being here.” 
You praised.
“Anything for you, baby. I’m always going to be here. You can count on that.” 
He smiled into your hairline, continuing to stroke it and you felt immense peace. You couldn’t tell what had changed or why, but you believed him with every fiber of your being. 
-
The next time you woke up, you were in Rafe’s arms, his soft snores infiltrating your ears and the aroma of the hospital room making its way into your nostrils. He had been at your beck and call for the last three days and he was tired, he needed the rest. You shifted your body, though careful not to move too quickly, afraid you’d wake him. Looking up at his sweet face, you traced your fingers down the bridge of his nose. How could one person be this perfect? You pondered. It was more than his chiseled jaw that you had always admired or his tan skin, he had begun to show you that he was a good man and that’s something you hadn’t seen in him in a long time, maybe ever. It made you love him in a way that you never had. A soft knock on the door took you out of your thoughts and you were praying to God that whoever it was wouldn’t wake up the giant man sleeping soundly next to you. Then, you saw brown hair with highlights peek through the crack of the door and you realized it was Topper. He peeked his head all the way through the door, and a bright smile littered his face. Kelce followed his lead, as he knocked softly again, making sure it was okay to come through the threshold of the hospital room. 
“Knock, knock.” 
He whispered and was surprised when he was met with your eyes instead of Rafe’s. 
“Shh.” 
You spoke, motioning your pointer finger to your lips in an attempt to keep him quiet. Seeing Rafe so still and soft, in an almost childlike state while sleeping was enough to make you swoon and you wanted him to stay this way as long as possible. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be the one resting?” 
Topper teased as he brought a balloon that read “it’s a girl!” to your bedside. It made you giggle. 
“Sorry, they ran out of “Sorry you have diabetes” balloons.” 
Kelce quipped. Your giggle was now a full-fledged belly laugh. "These two idiots!", you thought. As your laugh erupted from your stomach, Rafe began to stir, shifting his weight in the small bed. You lifted your hand, running your fingertips softly through the hair that was now hanging in his face. He nestled his face into your shoulder, curling his long legs into his stomach. There’s no way he’s comfortable, you thought. But you also didn’t have the heart to wake him. 
“I want him to sleep as long as possible, he’s been up for days worrying about me.” 
You spoke flatly and the boys understood the sentiment of your words. They cared deeply for both of you. 
“When are they saying you’ll be able to go home?” 
Kelce probed, wanting you to feel as normal as possible as soon as possible. 
“This afternoon, I think.” 
He placed his hand on your shoulder. 
“That’s good, pretty girl. You know he’s not going to leave your side, right?” 
You playfully rolled your eyes. 
“Yeah, the same way you two were the last time.” 
You joked.
“The last time you almost died. This isn’t that.” 
Topper’s tone was cold and he didn’t mean it to be, but he didn’t understand your calm, cool, and collected nature when it came to such traumatic events with your health. The room grew eerily silent and you were the first to break it. 
“Let’s not talk about that in front of Rafe, okay?” 
Both boys simply nodded their heads in response, understanding of your wishes. Topper and Kelce stayed for about an hour before deciding to go. Rafe stirred awake not long after they had departed from the room.
“Pretty girl. What time is it?” 
He asked, his eyes fluttering open to see yours staring up at him. His voice was gruff and sexy like only boys can be when they’ve first woken up.
“Well, good morning handsome. It’s 1pm.” 
You responded with a light chuckle.
“Gosh, How long have I been asleep?” 
“Since last night around 11.” 
He nodded his head, his still sleepy response was noted by you. 
“Did someone come to visit or did I dream about that?” 
You giggled, placing your hand on his cheek softly, rubbing your thumb back and forth underneath his eye. 
“It wasn't a dream, Topper and Kelce were here this morning.” 
You whispered sweetly, bringing your hands up to his hair, stroking lightly. 
“Why didn’t you wake me?” 
His eyebrows furrowed as he asked the question.
“You needed the sleep, Rafael. You’ve been awake, worrying about me for the last three days and that won’t do either of us any good.” 
He brought your chin up with his thumb and pointer finger, wanting your eyes to meet his, and placed a kiss on your forehead. 
“It’s my job to worry about you.” 
-
You were discharged from the hospital not long after Rafe had woken up, which you kind of despised, you wished he would’ve stayed asleep and gotten as much rest as he needed. The past few days had taken a toll on him and they would have taken a toll on anybody. No one wakes up and expects the girl they love to have a seizure and be put in the hospital. He had never seen you this fragile and that thought alone ate him alive. He hated that he couldn’t do anything to protect you from this. This wasn’t some mouthy pogue or a handsy touron he could punch out and call it a day, nestling you safely into his arms after disposing of the threat. This was an illness, a disease, that no one had control over, that no one could predict and even the best safety measures couldn’t protect you from a failing insulin pump. That part of it destroyed him. But the part of it that didn’t was seeing you be strong through all of it. You made jokes at your own expense, which was how you coped. You had done that for years with a lot of things. You did it the day you got your braces on when you were afraid of how Rafe would perceive your new appearance. Spoiler alert: he thought you were beautiful. You did it when your grandma died and when your parents fought and even when JJ cheated on you. The only thing you had never done it about was Rafe. His absence was the only thing that hurt too bad to joke about. He admired the fact that you could joke about your illness and how annoyed you got when he fussed over you, especially today, as he was driving you to his house from the hospital. When they had wheeled you out of the front doors of the hospital, Rafe gently lifted your body with his strong arms and placed you into the passenger seat of his truck. He made sure you were comfortable before lacing his hands through the seatbelt, stretching it across your body and buckling you in, the familiar click as the extender and the buckle met filtering through the car.  
“Rafe, I can buckle myself. My arms are in perfect working condition.” 
You scoffed, his incessant need to take care of you getting on your nerves. 
“I know you can. Just let me dote on you today, okay?” 
His voice was almost pleading. You gave him a reassuring nod, knowing that this is what he needed at the moment, even if you didn’t. You smiled, you loved this soft side of him, but eventually, it'd have to stop. Diabetes was something you’d been dealing with on your own for years. You didn’t need the hovering or the constant worry from your brown-haired, blue-eyed lover. You needed him to know you were strong and capable, not this weak damsel in distress he thought you were. You decided you would give it a day and have a conversation with him if it hadn’t stopped by the end of the week. As he made sure you were okay, he made his way to the driver’s side and started the truck, heading for Tannyhill. Your parents were in Thailand for business and couldn’t get back in time for you to be discharged, which you were thankful for. You didn’t need the wrath of your father right now, your brain and body still too tired from the trauma they endured. Rafe had told your mother you could stay at Tannyhill until they got home, which would be a week from today and he couldn’t help but be excited at having you this close for this long. You fell asleep on the ride home to Rafe’s, the slinging of gravel under his tires making you stir, as he pulled to the front of the house. He quickly got out and made his way to your side of the car, opening your door and unbuckling you, before lifting you in his arms once more and carrying you inside. The shift in your surroundings made you groan. 
“Mmmm.” 
You grunted out, Rafe’s lips turned up in a smile. 
“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay. We’re home. I’m gonna take you to bed.” 
He whispered in your ear. 
“Mmmm, Rafey.” 
You said it like his name was the yummiest thing your tongue had ever tasted, a sleepy smile plastered on your face. As he opened the door, you felt yourself wanting to fight, wanting to prove to him you could do it yourself, but your body was too tired to try and argue with the comforting embrace of the boy you loved. You took in the smell of him as you heard him telling his family not to talk above a whisper while making his way through the living room. He smelled like sea salt, whiskey, and expensive cologne - a familiar smell for many reasons, it reminded you of home, the island, the stupid pretentious parties, and the ocean you’d grown to love the sight of. However, it reminded you of home because he was stitched in every memory of you being in these places, in this atmosphere. The smell was bliss, the smell was Rafe. 
“Please if you talk to her or around her, talk in a whisper. She’s got a concussion and ten stitches on her forehead. If she’s in a room, the lights need to be off, at least until tomorrow.” 
Rafe whisper-yelled over your half-asleep form, to his family before walking up the stairs. 
“Don’t worry, son. We got it. We’ve dealt with a concussion before.” 
Ward giggled because his son had had six concussions in his football career, they knew very well how to take care of one, but Rafe’s protective nature shined through and allowed him to forget that. He loved that his son cared this deeply for another person, there was a time when he wondered if he ever would. 
Rafe slowly but surely carried you up the stairs to his bedroom, laying you down in his usual resting place, which was the comfiest place on the mattress. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. Luckily, you were dressed in cozy clothes so he didn’t have to wake you. Instead, he brought the blankets under your chin and slid in next to you, falling asleep fast as he clung to your small frame. 
-
When you woke the next morning, Rafe was no longer next to you, which made you curious, so you made your way out of bed and slowly peered down the hallway. There was no sign of him in the bathroom or any of the bedrooms upstairs. You peered eerily over the edge of the staircase banister, looking for any sign of him. 
“Rafael” 
You called out and he came barreling up the stairs from around the corner in the kitchen. You admired him in his domestic form, basketball shorts, t-shirt, and messy hair. A still sleepy smile danced across his face as he took in the sight of you. He hadn’t been awake very long. 
“Pretty girl, good morning.” 
He spoke with a smile, making his way up to you, and placing a kiss on your hairline. 
“What are you doing out of bed?” 
He questioned.
“I couldn’t find you” 
You brought your lips to a pout and it sent a shiver down his spine. He loved that you wanted to be so close to him. You were enamored by everything that he was and you couldn’t get enough. 
“You want some coffee? I made your favorite.” 
You were confused. How could he possibly know what your favorite coffee is? You had been not speaking for the last two years, there was no way he had made you the right thing.
“Which would be what?” 
You questioned, confusion lacing your face. 
“White chocolate mocha with ½ and ½ instead of milk and an extra shot of white chocolate.” 
“Rafe, how did you know?” 
“I’ve just paid attention and it helps that you’ve had the same coffee order since we were 13.” 
He joked and you gushed internally, your core became warm at his sentiment, leaving you flustered and on edge. 
“Rafael, that’s so sweet, thank you.” 
You whispered as you pulled him in for a tight hug. 
“Let’s go downstairs and get you that coffee.” 
He spoke sweetly and you followed him down the staircase. When you had made it to the kitchen, you noted that Rafe had all kinds of coffee and syrups lining the island, where he was topping your cup off with whipped cream. It was a surprise that Rafe was an actual coffee drinker, not a poser who orders the closest thing to a milkshake he can find at every coffee shop. Rafe pulled a barstool out for you to sit on from underneath the island and helped you onto it before sliding it close to the edge of the countertop. 
“Rafael, when did you become such a coffee whore?” 
You asked innocently, not realizing how funny the remark was. Rafe let out a belly laugh. 
“Uh, my mom got me into drinking it right before she passed. It was something I clung to when she died. The warmth of a good cup of coffee reminds me of her hugs.” 
He spoke with a smile. 
“Well, now I feel like an asshole.” 
You muttered, a grimace on your face. 
“What do you mean? Why?” 
 “I thought you were going to have some douchey frat boy response. Like, you started drinking it to get a girl’s attention or something.” 
Rafe chuckled at you being so taken aback by him. 
“No, I’m not that guy anymore.” 
“Yeah, I’m starting to see that.” 
You mumbled what you thought was quietly, but evidently not quiet enough, as Rafe’s eyes went wide at your confession. 
“Let me take you on a date today.” 
He spoke softly, timidness dancing across his body language. You smiled at him brightly and when he looked at his feet, waiting for you to tell him no, you lifted his chin with your thumb and pointer finger. 
“Hey, don’t do that.” 
“Sorry-”
“No, I mean, don’t go to the bad place in your head. Everything’s fine, baby. I thought you’d never ask.” 
He smiled as widely as he could. 
“Okay, well let’s get some food in your stomach and then we’ll get ready and make a day out of it. Do you feel okay enough for that?” 
“Yeah, I feel fine. But, what do you mean? Where are you taking me?” 
You looked confused. You had never really been on a real date, JJ didn’t have very much money, which was never an issue for you. You didn’t mind paying for whatever the two of you did. But, even still he lacked romance and creativity. There was never a movie date or a day at the beach, just the two of you. It was all about the Pogues all the time and that was one of the many reasons you didn’t miss him. 
“That I cannot reveal yet, sweetheart.” 
He smiled cheekily and it made your heart warm. You were excited and you knew Rafe wasn’t going to disappoint. Rafe Cameron wasn’t known for romance, yet you believed he had something special up his sleeves. He made eggs, bacon, and toast with jelly, which was your favorite kind of breakfast. You appreciated how thoughtful he was. After you finished eating, he asked you to go get dressed and pack a bag. 
“Did you get enough to eat, sweetheart?” 
He questioned, always aware of the sugar demon that lived inside your bloodstream now. Apart from worrying about your sugar, he just wanted to make sure you were full, which you appreciated. 
“Yes, Rafael. I’m full.” 
You smiled in his direction, before hopping off the barstool and heading upstairs to take a shower, wanting to look your best for your date with him. 
“Do you mind picking out my clothes since I’m not allowed to know what we’re doing?” 
You questioned, turning around as you reached the bottom of the staircase, meeting his blue eyes that were boring into the back of your head already. 
“Absolutely, sweetheart. I’d love to.” 
He gave you a reassuring nod as you turned around and made your way up the staircase, smiling like an idiot over the fact that you caught him staring at you. As you reached the top of the stairs, you realized you were already winded and tired, an after effect of your recent health scare. You made your way into Rafe’s room, which had a connecting bathroom. You quickly grabbed your insulin and bath supplies, knowing you’d need to change your pump when you got out and made your way into the bathroom, where you stripped yourself of your clothes and turned on the water. You liked the water scalding hot, you always joked that you like to feel like you’re in the pits of hell until your shower is over and the cool air of the bathroom brushes up against your naked skin. You removed the old insulin pump, discarding it into the trash, and hopped in the shower. You didn’t waste much time, but you did let the hot water soothe your muscles for a bit before you washed your hair and body and it felt so good. When you were done, you exited the shower, grabbing Rafe’s towel from the drying rack and wrapping it around your body. You made your way into the bedroom, where you found a beautiful, white lace sundress with a note attached to it. 
A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl. Saw this downtown last week and it reminded me of you. What a perfect day to wear it, yeah? I packed your bag with all the necessary snacks and medicine and put a bathing suit in there for you too. The white one-piece you wore on the druthers, it’s my favorite.
X, 
Rafael
You audibly gasped at how thoughtful Rafe had been and there you were, smiling like an idiot in the middle of his bedroom. You put on your bra and underwear and called his name, wanting him to come to help you with applying a new insulin pump. Today was as good a day as any for him to learn how to do it. 
“Rafael!” 
You bellowed out his name and he came up the stairs quickly, you could hear his feet hitting each mahogany panel. He knocked softly, not wanting to disturb you if you weren’t decent. You slowly slid the dress up your legs, so he could only see your bra. 
“You can come in, I need your help.” 
He swung the door open at that, afraid you were sick or in trouble in some other way. His eyes landed on you, sitting on his bed, with the dress he had bought you covering your bottom half, nothing but your bra covering your top. 
“Woah.” 
He whispered, a smirk tracing his lips. 
“Easy, tiger. I need help with my pump. There’s no fire anywhere.” 
You giggled softly at him. He looked so afraid when he swung the door open.
“Okay, pretty girl, tell me what to do.” 
“I have everything ready. I just need you to plunge it into my skin, somewhere it won’t show in this dress.” 
“Is your stomach okay?” 
He questioned you, watching as you inserted the insulin into the pump and let it prime. As much as you wanted to tell him, no, to run, to scream, to hide - you couldn’t. Your stomach was the best place for the pump, but it was also a place you didn’t want Rafe to look at. Over the last two years, your stomach had become littered with scars from failed pump sites and it made you insecure about your body. This is why you stuck to one-piece bathing suits. 
“U-uh, yeah.” 
Rafe noticed the shift in your behavior and he didn’t take it lightly. 
“Hey, pretty girl, what’s the matter?” 
You stared down at him, as he was now rocking on the balls of his feet and squatted in front of you. 
“It’s just, my stomach, it isn’t pretty anymore, okay?”
“What do you mean? Everything about you is pretty.” 
“I have a lot of scars from my pump on my stomach. It’s probably better if I show you.” 
He nodded gingerly and you delicately pushed the dress down to your hips, revealing the fullness of your tiny waist and belly. The scars that littered it were discolored, some black, and brown, and the oldest ones were white. Some were longer and larger than the others. You swallowed thickly as you watched Rafe’s blue eyes take in the tattered skin and you let a tear fall from your eye. You hoped he didn’t notice, but he did. 
“Hey, this doesn’t change anything. Everybody has scars. It’s okay, baby.” 
“I’m ugly, Rafe.” 
“Believe me, darling, you are the furthest thing there ever was from ugly and a few scars won’t change my mind. I have scars too.” 
“Y-you do?” 
“Yeah, look, this is from that time you pushed me off my bike when we were seven. Remember I had all those stitches?” 
He asked, pointing to his face, which he had landed on when he fell. You chuckled to yourself. He had pissed you off so bad that day when he wouldn’t let you play with his spiderman action figures. 
“Yeah, I remember. Sorry, I was a bitch.” 
You laughed and Rafe wiped some of the tears off your face. 
“You’ve never been a bitch. I promise.” 
You sniffled and smiled at him, thankful for his kind words. 
“Everybody has scars, sweet girl. They make us who we are, they’re proof we’ve lived. You’ve just lived a lot of life.” 
You hugged him tightly, his fingers tracing the skin of your bare back. 
“Okay, pick a spot on my belly and stick it there.” 
“How’s here?” 
He asked, placing the pump close to your naval. 
“That’s great. Just hold it there until you hear the click.” 
He did as he was told, holding it until he heard the audible click of the needle going into your fragile skin. You grimaced. 
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” 
His brows furrowed in concern. 
“I’m okay, Rafael. It’s just the needle.” 
Your response seemed to soothe him enough because the next thing you knew his hands had traveled to your hips and he began helping you pull the dress up over your middle and placed the straps securely on your shoulders. He turned you around to look in the mirror. 
“How’s that, pretty girl? Do you like it?” 
“I love it, Rafe. Thank you so much.” 
-
Shortly after your bedroom excursion, you and Rafe were ready to go, you still clueless as to where he was taking you or what your date entailed. He led you outside to his truck, grabbing the bag he had packed for you and placing it on the backseat floorboard. When he opened the back passenger door, you noticed there was a picnic basket with pink tulips hanging out the side of it. They were your favorite flower, which Rafe definitely knew. You smirked at this small detail. So far he was blowing your expectations out of the water, which you had no doubt he would. He helped you into the passenger seat, buckling you yet again. You were starting to think this had less to do with your fragility and more to do with the fact that he just liked doing it. 
You and Rafe quickly arrived downtown, walking around all your favorite boutiques and shops. As you walked down the cobblestone streets of Kildare, Rafe reached for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. You could’ve sworn you had died and gone to heaven. You had loved this boy as long as you could remember and even your wildest of fantasies would’ve never given you the idea he’d ever want you like this. You watched the ground as you walked, eyes on your feet and you felt his eyes boring a hole into the side of your head. 
“It’s rude to stare, you know?” 
You spoke freely, letting out a giggle and Rafe rolled his eyes playfully. 
“I just wanted to look at you.” 
He spoke softly. 
“Why?” 
“Cause you’re beautiful.” 
He spoke with more fire this time, saying the words boldly, with purpose. He wasn’t trying to make a move, or get you to sleep with him, he just needed you to know and you sensed that he meant it. 
“You make me feel good, Rafe.” 
“Well, that’s kinda the whole point of this. If I’m ever not making you feel good, then that’s when we should reevaluate what we’re doing.” 
You smiled at him and nodded, knowing he needed you to understand what he was saying, that’d you tell him if ever wasn’t making you feel good. 
“You want some ice cream, beautiful?” 
Your face lit up and Rafe giggled. You were always in the mood for ice cream, something he noted when you were thirteen. Every time he has ever asked if you wanted ice cream, your answer has been yes. 
“You know I do.” 
You snorted at his knowledge of you, at his ability to read you like a book. He nodded and you made your way into the ice cream shop. Rafe made you sit at a table while he ordered and when he brought you the ice cream you beamed up at him. 
“Mint chocolate chip, you remembered!” 
You exclaimed. It was like Rafe’s thoughts were consumed by you, it seemed he knew everything there was to know about you. 
“I remember everything about you, honey.” 
You blushed at his remark. You were thankful for this day with him. It was simple and domestic and freeing and you were just thankful. 
“This has been fun, Rafael. Thank you.” 
You smiled sweetly, meeting his blue eyes with yours, blushing again. 
“You’re welcome, pretty girl. But, it’s not over yet. I have one more surprise for you.” 
“What else could you possibly have up your sleeve?” 
You questioned him with a belly laugh, thinking this sweet boy had already gone above and beyond for you. You both finished off your ice cream and Rafe led you back to the truck, following his routine of buckling you in before he made his way inside. He definitely liked doing it, no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it. 
The ride was quiet and after fifteen minutes, he pulled into the public beach parking lot. He helped you out of the vehicle once again, grabbing the picnic basket, along with your bag of necessities, and placing it on his shoulders. He carried that bag as if his life depended on it. Once you made it down to the sand, he laid out the white knitted blanket he had brought with him and instructed you to sit down, while he unpacked the picnic basket. 
“These are for you. I know they’re your favorite.” 
Rafe spoke matter-of-factly, pulling the pink tulips out of the basket and handing them to you. Your smile was giddy and you couldn’t contain yourself. You’d jump his bones right here if you knew you wouldn’t get arrested. 
“Rafe, these are so beautiful!” 
You exclaimed, joy written on your features. He loved that look on you. The joy. 
“I’m glad you like them.” 
He giggled and put his arm around you, placing his hand on the other side of your hip in the sand. 
“You just seem to know all my favorite things.” 
Blush infiltrated the pores of your cheeks. 
“It’s not hard if you pay attention.” 
His words meant more to you than anyone’s ever had before, but the truth of them stung. This is what love is supposed to feel like, to be like and now you know why you didn’t miss JJ. Because he wasn’t the one and Rafe was. Rafe’s next line of questioning brought you out of your head. 
“Are you hungry, sweet girl?” 
He questioned with soft eyes. 
“I could eat.” 
You replied, a soft smile on your lips. 
“PB & J or Turkey and Mayo?” 
He asked, pulling two sandwiches out of the basket. 
“PB & J.” 
You replied. 
He ever so slowly plated the sandwiches and put apple slices with caramel sauce beside them. 
“Here you go, m’lady.” 
“Rafe, this is so sweet.” 
You gushed, heart almost bursting at the seams for the effort he put into this. 
“Water or champagne?” 
His line of questioning continued.
“Depends, what are we celebrating?” 
“Just me, being here, with you.” 
“Champagne it is then.” 
Rafe took the two glasses out of the picnic basket, handing you yours to hold while he poured it. He looked up at your face, golden hour making the hues of orange, yellow, and pink dance across your face. He noticed something on your cheek, right near your lip - a scar, medium size, white in color, in a jagged line. His fingers traced over it as he finished pouring your beverage. You shied away from his touch. 
“I’m sorry, angel.” 
He looked defeated, afraid he had done the wrong thing. This perfect day, did he just fuck it up? He wondered. 
“It’s okay. No worries.” 
You smiled at him and leaned into him, placing your head on his shoulder. 
“Can you tell me what that’s from?” 
He asked. He needed to know at some point, you knew that. But, that didn’t mean the conversation would be easy or that he wouldn’t get angry. 
“Trust me, you don’t want to know, Rafe.” 
He was taken aback, what was so bad that you thought he wouldn’t want to know. He wanted to know about every scar that littered your body. 
“Believe me when I say this, I most certainly do.” 
You huffed, loudly.
“You promise you won’t get mad?” 
“I promise, angel.” 
Your vision clouded with unshed tears, you had never had to explain to him the abuse you face from JJ and it would never be easy to talk about. 
“I-it’s from JJ.” 
You let the words sit in the thick air between you and Rafe. 
“What do you mean it’s from JJ?” 
Rafe’s eyes were laced with bewilderment and confusion. 
“F-from the first t-time.” 
Your voice became shaky, weak. 
“The first time for what, y/n?” 
“The f-first time he punched me in the f-face.”
“What the fuck did you just say?! He punched you in the face?!” 
Rafe questioned, a fire in his eyes that you’d never seen before. 
“Y-you said you wouldn’t get mad.” 
Rafe looked up at you, tears falling freely down your face. 
“Hey, hey, I’m not mad, baby. Come here.” 
He reached out for you and lunged for him, clinging as tightly as you could to his middle, crying into his button-down. 
“Tell me what happened, angel. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’d never hurt you. I’d never dream of putting my hands on you, of hurting you.” 
He rocked you back and forth, peppering kisses into your hairline. Waiting until your breathing had become normal before he stopped, just sitting with his chin on top of your head. 
“He abused me the entire year we were together. It started when I told him I wasn’t ready to lose my virginity, that I was saving it for the right person.” 
“I’m so sorry, baby.” 
“The first time he hit me, I still had braces on my teeth. Cut right through my cheek, that’s what the scar is from. I had to get 7 stitches.” 
He didn’t say anything, mostly because he knew that there was nothing he could say to make it better. He just squeezed you tighter and wondered how the fuck he was going to kill JJ Maybank. 
“Listen, angel, I don’t want you working at the club with him.” 
Rafe’s tone revealed how uneasy he truly was.” 
“I know. The first day you came to see me at work, he showed up that night. Told me to remember who I belonged to. I haven’t felt safe without you there, ever since.” 
“Baby, let me talk to dad and see how serious he is about wanting you to come work for him.” 
“You’d do that?” 
You looked up at him, shocked he would help you find work elsewhere when he didn’t have to. It wasn’t his responsibility. 
“You have no idea the things I’d do for you, sweet girl.” 
The words were heavy and somehow you knew he meant every single one. 
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taglist:
@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt
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beefscrap · 2 days ago
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!!! DESIGN A STORY CHARACTER CONTEST !!!
Finally, it’s here! To celebrate 400 PLUS followers now, I’m hosting a WOF design challenge/contest! Your mission is to design a character that’s going to appear in TBoFS 2. The character is already decided, and you’ll be given information/prompts to design them. First place winner will have their design be the official design for the character, and anyone who doesn’t win can keep theirs! So keep in mind that if you win, I’ll be the ‘owner’ of your design and the character.
!!! GENERAL INFO !!!
- 1ST PLACE PRIZE: Your design will be the official design in the story! You also get a free dumb doodle from me of any OC (or character) you want.
- 2ND PLACE + 3RD PLACE: You’ll each receive a doodle, as well as being featured as winners when they’re announced! Of course!
- Anyone else who submits a design will get honorable mentions, and your design will be linked when winners are announced.
- Very little artistic bias is involved. Not being able to ‘draw well’ isn’t an issue, as long as you have good ideas and a good imagination!
- DESIGNS ARE DUE BY [ Friday, December 20th ] !!! I’ll have results by December 25th!
- I’ll personally be picking the top 3, then put a poll up that lasts for 1 DAY. This will determine the winners.
- TO SUBMIT YOUR DESIGN: Either tag me in a post or send in my asks inbox! I will be reblogging/posting with the hashtag #TBOFS2DESIGNCHALLENGE (and you can post with the tag too ofc!)
- Please ask questions if you have them!
!!! RULES !!!
- I have faith in people but PLEASE BE NICE! I don’t want fighting for any reason, I don’t want unwanted criticism of people’s designs, etc. I want this to be enjoyable for EVERYONE, even if you don’t win!
- You may only submit ONE DESIGN! If there’s some sort of issue where you need to resubmit, just let me know!
- Another reminder that the first place winner gives me ownership of the design, and I’ll put them up on my Toyhouse folder. Please don’t submit to win if you’re uncomfortable with this!
- I have faith about this too, but just in case: don’t submit inappropriate art. If I find out you draw gross feral art/sexualize dragons I won’t accept your design and you’re blocked.
- Similarly, no design you submit should be offensive or hateful in any way.
!!! DESIGN INFO !!! finally the fun stuff
- The character is a PURE NIGHTWING.
- I prefer to stick to MOSTLY canon color choices, but some deviation from this is welcome! Ask if you aren’t sure, but feel free to look at the character designs in my TBoFS Toyhouse folder. That should give a good idea.
- Adding accessories and even little headcanons for the character are fully welcomed and encouraged (keeping in mind that some headcanons may not end up to be true, lol!)
- Name ideas are welcome, too!
- YOUR GENERAL PROMPT IS: a snobby, intelligent, standoffish Nightwing who does not believe in animus magic as it exists.
- Keeping my prompt pretty vague so you can have fun! The best designs (to me) are ones that’re recognizable. Not necessarily jam packed with accessories and colors and stuff… just recognizable.
- Your designs may be sketched, lined, etc, but my main requirements are that it’s at least a fullbody + colored. You CAN add more visuals to the design if you want (front face view, mouth view, paws, wing view, etc etc). It does NOT have to be digital!
Woo hoo! Have fun and thank you again for your support!
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deepestdelulu · 2 days ago
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Becoming a better student ₊˚⊹♡
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Honestly I´ve never been an A student, but I always try to do my best, and I´m very proud of myself, at least in this area of my life. So here I let you know my tips for studying, not getting bored (at all) and having great marks.
Prepare for your classes ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Wake up on time. We don't want to be stressed first thing in the morning, right?
Eat breakfast. So you will be able to better focus in class.
Assigned reading and homework. Make sure you are prepared for your classes!! :)
Review your notes. Going through some of your flashcards before class is really helpful.
Check your bag and charge your devices. Ensure you have everything you need: Books, homework, chargers, pens, water...
In Class ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Listen and pay attention. You can save yourself a lot of trouble by simply paying attention, trust me.
Take notes. My favourite note-taking method is the Cornell method; I can make a separate post on that!! <3
"Quick notes." If you struggle with note-taking, try taking quick and messy notes. You can clean them up once you get home!!
Engage. If you have any questions or don't understand something, make sure to ask!! Most teachers really appreciate students who speak up. :) And remember you can always go talk to them privately.
No distractions. Turn off your phone, no chatting, you'll be glad...
After class ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Finish your assignments as soon as you can. Go home, put on a cosy outfit, have a snack, and get working!! <3
Prepare flash cards. A great way of reviewing your notes, too... :)
Update your Study schedule. Write down any assignment and due dates, reading you must do, upcoming tests, etc...
Clean up your notes. Review them, highlight the important parts, and maybe even make them look cute!! :)
Don't avoid topics/Subjects you dislike. I know it is tempting, but you can't avoid them forever, so you might as well get them done.
Structure and routine ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Goals and Priorities. Keep them realistic and manageable.
Time management. Having a set schedule makes studying less overwhelming; it takes some discipline but is so worth it!! <3
Develop a routine. Figure out what works best for you; I prefer studying in the morning or at night.
No "zero days". Even if you can only do a bit, do it!! NO. ZERO. DAYS.
Remember your goals. Dreams will keep you motivated; remind yourself of what you're working for!! <3
Self-care and balance ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Don't forget about your hobbies. You need to do things that make you happy, so make time for those things!!
Maintain a balanced diet. I know chocolates and junk are tempting, especially when you are busy studying all day, but you're not doing yourself any favours.
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. 8 Hours. Non-negotiable.
Exercise regularly. Even if it's just a walk, put on some headphones, listen to music, and give yourself a break. <3
Care for your social life. Reach out to your friends, make plans, and keep in touch; a good work-life balance is critical!!
Romanticising ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Study dates. Meet up with your friends at a cosy cafe, discuss your work, and have some fun!! Studying doesn't have to be all serious all the time ;)
Silly Pinterest boards. Visualising your goals will help you find motivation!!
Music to set the mood. Make a playlist to study with, I have lots of them :)
Cosy sweater and candles. The cosy Rory Gilmore vibes haha...
Getting a coffee before class. A little treat before things get serious... Simple pleasures, you know? :)
As always, Please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!!
✩‧₊*:・love ya ・:*₊‧✩
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thatbadassauthor · 2 days ago
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✡ Alastor x Fem!FallenSeraphim!Reader ✡
@BlazeTheCatPrincess ON WATTPAD. I know it's not really what you asked for but take this while I'm working on it. This was inspired by your request but dw I'm still doing your request.
~
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You don't ever speak to him, except the few moments you'll walk past him and share a quick hello. You both clearly respect each other, yet aren't at all more then acquaintances.
..Until, you're not. And you have a certain cat demon to thank for that.
⚠️ Trigger Warning; ⚠️
Mentions of Falling from Grace.
Mentions of Religion.
Profanity.
Alcohol indulgence.
Mentions of Light Gore, nothing too explicit.
──── ୨୧ ────
You joined the Hazbin Hotel around a year ago, for your own.. reasons. Being an infamous Overlord, you helped Charlie and the rest of the hotel staff with your wide range of abilities. Sure, Alastor was helping too, but there are things he couldn't do. As there was things he could do you couldn't. Despite not talking often, you definitely work together exceptionally well. You both know how to get things done, after all.
You've always been a mystery, that's how you liked it. The less people know about you the better, but Charlie's never minded. Especially since Vaggie threatens you the least out of everyone here. After you fought for them at the Extermination, Vaggie has been oddly nice. Charlie takes it as just some character development, but you know the true reason. She knows.
Knows you're a fallen angel.
Of course you don't have anything to give that away, you know how to keep your secrets. But it's as if now she's seen how you fight she can taste the angelic blood. No one else knows, but you suppose as a fallen excorsist if anyone would figure it out, it's her.
-
As you're an Overlord, you'd think you'd have something with The Radio Demon. Something like a rivalry, or maybe a bond. But nope. You don't ever speak to him, except the few moments you'll walk past and say a quick hello. You both clearly respect each other, yet aren't at all more then acquaintances. Of course you've had your moments where you've thought about trying to start a bond with him, but that's only out of curiosity. You know how YOU got your power so quickly, but for some mortal to get power that quick? Who wouldn't be at least some form of intrigued.
You're currently sitting at the bar with Husk, the gruff cat demon grumpily passing you a shot of vodka. He slides it over the bar to you, and you stop it from falling with your powers before using one finger to trace the rim of the glass.
"Why don't you talk to Alastor more? I mean it ain't any of my business, and I don't really care.. but I feel like everyone expects you two to get along most?" Husk inquiries with a raised eyebrow, clearly curious despite denting such.
"Oh please, I do things with reason. I have no reason to.. bond with him, if that's what you're implying. As for the expectation of us getting along, whatever would make you all think such?" You reply simply, yet internally question the topic at hand. You'd think Husk wouldn't want to talk about anything regarding Alastor, he doesn't exactly hide his distaste for the deer demon.
"I mean.. you're both Overlords. And everyone saw how you two work together. I ain't tryna get in your business or somethin', just sayin'.. You compliment each other." The bartender says with a shurg, wiping a glass with a rag. His paw holds the fabric carefully, the cat demon keeps his eyes locked on the glass. As if he's being extra careful with his words, making sure he doesn't accidentally strike a nerve with someone who could easily snap his neck with a claw.
"Mhm, any Overlord can work with another when they want to. Besides, I don't hate him. We just.. have no reason to speak. He does actions with reason as much as I do, I respect him for that. But I don't get your point regarding.. "Us complimenting each other." As you so bluntly put it." You respond casually, grabbing the glass and sipping on it casually.
Of course you respect the demon, he's done nothing to not earn that in your eyes. Though you think about the bartender's suggestion a little more then you thought you would.. What if you were to bond with Alastor, maybe even court him. You immediately shake the thought out of your mind, why would you ever do something so silly? You can't deny he's powerful, but you barely even speak to him. You have no reason to.
"All I'll say is give it a shot. Give him a shot, you'll thank me later."
-
And you did exactly that, later that night you had walked up to The Radio Demon and discussed how he killed his last victim. It was very creative actually, ripping out his guts and then strangling him with his own intestines. Oh his screams were almost heavenly, the closest you'll get to Heaven nowadays. You don't miss it, at all. Sera was a bitch, Lute too.
And surprisingly, that night went really well. It was nothing extreme at all, but definitely improvement. You couldn't deny it, Husk had a point. He did compliment you in a lot of ways, especially his snarky humor matching your sarcastic one. Oh, and the mutual sadism and power. That too.
After that day you started to talk with The Radio Demon a lot more, each time Husk would be somewhere with a knowing smile. One time he even brought you over to Cannibal Town, and he constantly mentioned how he was older then you. Well it is true he's been in HELL longer then you, you decided to keep to yourself the fact you were made centuries before the 1900s.
The tidy town had reminded you a lot of Heaven, and apart from the embassy it's the closest thing to Heaven down here. Of course it's no where near Heaven at all, but compare it to the ruthless streets of Pentagram City.. Yeah.
You'll definitely have to repay Husk sometime, but that's not important right now.
-
Currently the hotel is beaming of energy, the atmosphere as warm and welcoming as ever. Since the renovations, it's been a lot more lively with more patrons, much to Charlie's delight. Charlie is seen on the other side of the lobby, welcoming in an aquatic pair of sinners to their rooms. Vaggie trails behind Charlie and the demons, as if to make sure they won't do anything shady to the naive princess. Charlie thinks it's a bit much and that she needs to be more trusting, yet Vaggie will always be her guard dog. Whether Charlie likes it or not, it's in Vaggie's nature.
Angel is seen pestering the bartender with his sexual remarks, laying his long body of the counter much to Husk's annoyance. The cat demon looks at the arachnid fondly however, much to his own annoyance. And Nifty is out of the hotel, presumably stabbing some of the little critters she obsesses over so much out on the roof.
Being your ever playful self, you decide to find something to entertain yourself before the Overlord meeting later. You use one of your angelic abilities to turn invisible. Well, more so into holy light. But since you're in Hell, all it does is make you invisible. Which is actually helpful, being a fallen angel has it perks.
You walk up behind your good friend, which earned an ear flick yet he doesn't seem to know you're there. Obviously he senses someone, but he presumes it's just his powers flaring up. Sometimes it tends to do that, as his static can sense air frequency yet it flares up just due to the noise.
Suddenly he feels a soft, warm feeling on his senstive deer ears. Immediately his body tenses up, and his grip on his newspaper tenfolds. His clawed fingers rip through the paper effortlessly, his eyes widened and on alert. But before he can react he let's out a whimper. One that sounds awfully pleased. He immediately covers his mouth, yet luckily everyone is too preoccupied to notice his reaction. He lets out a soft, embarrassed moan before his ears bend down out of your grip.
"Who wants to lose a limb today? HAHA." Alastor suddenly declares before looking behind him. Only in the most unsettling way possible, bending his head impossibly back behind him with his neck outstretched only to see no one. He straightens up after placing down the newspaper, and turns his whole body to face your direction.
Seeing no one, he immediately pieces it together. You're the only one who can turn invisible apart from himself, after all. "My darling, at least play your ridiculous pranks somewhere more private? I have a reputation to uphold."
You manifest before him expectedly after being called out, wearing a cheeky smirk that could rival the Jokers. You show absolutely no regret of remorse, not to The Radio Demon's surprise. You simply snicker as he rolls his eyes, you're damn lucky. Any other demon would've lost their limb as soon as he regained his senses.
Despite being a fellow Overlord, he definitely trusts you. You've bonded a lot over these years, dare he say you could rival Rosie for his affections. He simply waves a hand dismissively, stopping the sarcastic excuse before you can say it.
"You think you're funny darling? Well, two can play that game." The deer demon suddenly exclaims, which makes you cross your arms over your chest.
Your eyes glint with defiance, yet anticipation. Your wings almost flare out instinctively to challenge him, though you stop them before they do so. He doesn't know you're a fallen angel after all. You only let your black regal wings out when threatening and killing your victims, so no one is ever alive to tell the tale. To expose your little secret.
"Oh really?" You say, not afraid but definitely anticipating what he has planned. Surely he won't go too extreme, but you are well aware of how he likes to return favours..
"I can't wait for our meeting, my dear darling. See you later, I'll be waiting."
Oh, you had forgotten about that. You know you're in for it now. But why does that send a shiver down your spine?
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──── ୨୧ ────
1748 WORDS <3 A nice and quick one. Also there's a lot of time skips becuz I'm lazy asf.
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writingblogsandothers · 3 days ago
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The Chosen One
Part 3
Writer's Note: A short one for this evening! More to follow tomorrow. Sending all the love X
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Mild Taunting/Teasing // Mild Fear (nothing descriptive)
Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns
Part 1 // Part 2
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After the dining festivities, Aurelia retired to her quarters. She was guided back by Alba, who asked her, “My Lady, did you enjoy your evening?”. Aurelia nodded toward her maid, “Yes, it was nice to spend some time with the Emperor.” Alba smirked, “My Lady, do I see a blush forming on your cheeks? I do not recall adding some before we left for your evening.” Aurelia giggled in return, “Alba, please behave.”, almost crawling into a shell of herself. Alba left the subject alone, and opened the large door to the living quarters.
“Lady Aurelia, please allow me to help you change into your bed clothing.”
Aurelia followed Alba to her dressing room, and saw the silken robes laid out for her. They were a beautiful peacock teal colour, with embroidered flowers along the edge. Aurelia was astonished how the dressers had managed to sum her sizing up precisely without so much as a consultation, with the robes fitting her to a tee. The robe reached floor length and appeared to float in the fine wind with her every step.
“Alba, I am exhausted. Is it okay if I am to retire to my bed chamber?”
Alba looked in astonishment to her instructor, “My Lady, please do not ask of my permission. It is for you to do as you please. I am here to see to your every need. Can I get you anything before you retire?” Aurelia shakes her head gently. “Well then, let’s get you to bed.”
Before the ladies made their way down the hallway, a knock appeared at the door. Alba ran to reach the handle, but before she could arrive, the doors burst open. Emperor Geta stood with great poise.
“Thank you for your service, you are excused.”
“Caesar, I-”
“Excused.”
Alba nodded curtly, and swiftly exiting the room, closing the door behind her. Aurelia swallowed a firm gulp. Geta made his way toward her, pawing at the silken sleeve which draped slightly over her hand. Aurelia shuddered at his close proximity. Looking down into her eyes, he said “This colour complements your complexion so very well. Soft. Hm.” Aurelia stood silent, not knowing how to respond.
He walked away, “I am here to speak with you on a one-to-one level. We have not had the opportunity as of yet and I’d like to get to know my future wife better.” Waltzing over to the sofa area within the quarters and spreading himself across the vast majority of the cream-coloured sofa, he stated “Sit.” Like an obedient dog, Aurelia followed swiftly perching herself on the sofa adjacent to him. Maybe Caracalla had a point, she thought briefly.
“So, who are you?”
“Where do I begin?”
“Anywhere, the very start preferably. I have time.”
Aurelia saw that flash of genuine care again, before it returned to the icy front.
“Well, I am the daughter of a farmer father and vendor mother. I have two brothers and we lived on the outskirts of the capital. We are a hard working family and very close knit. I miss them very much already.”
Geta leaned back, “Go on.”
“I help out on the farm, gathering crops and any harvesting fruits to give my mother. I keep our home clean and tidy. I make dinners. That’s all really.”
“Hmm… Aurelia that’s all very well and good but that’s not what I asked. I asked, who are you? Not ‘what are your family like?’, not ‘what do you do every day of your monotonous life?’”
Aurelia was taken-aback. She didn’t know how to answer his question. Who was she? What had she achieved in her lifetime? What did she enjoy? What did she dislike? She was truthful, “Emperor, I do not know. I can’t answer your question.”
Geta got up from his seat, afraid she had disappointed him, he said “Aurelia, two things. Firstly, it’s rather sad you don’t know who you are.” He took her chin into his pointer finger, tilting her head up toward him, “But fear not, we’ll work it out together. Secondly, when we are in private, do not keep such formalities. No Emperor, No ‘Sire’ – just Geta.” Aurelia simply nodded.
“Say it.”
“Sorry?”
“Say. My. Name.” He started to pinch her chin, tilting her head further back.
“Ge-e-eta.” She stuttered out, feeling confused with her feelings as this was going on. Was this fear? Fear, with a degree of lust? She looked into his brown, verging on red-hued eyes, feeling as though she was being sucked in by some form of enchantress. They were like pools of pure chocolate, and she felt like she could dive in and wallow there all day. Snap out of it – she tells herself. She hardly knows this man – this dangerous man – yet the danger was what intrigued her.
“Again. Say it again.”
“Geta.” She stated much more confidently, not breaking eye contact from the fierce ruler.
This seemed to appease him as he smirked at her, abruptly dropping her chin and turning on his heels. Walking toward the door, he stopped in his tracks, turning over his shoulder “Tomorrow morning, you will meet with one of the palace’s designers. They will begin to sort the materials for our wedding. You can pick and choose what you like. I will review and that’s that. Good night Aurelia.”
Aurelia curtly nodded and half-bowed, “Goodnight,” she remembered what he said “Geta…”. He paused for what felt like an eternity, but said nothing and exited without saying a word.
She stood there dumbfounded. What was this feeling, so sudden and new? Rushes of what felt like light shone through her, blood travelling to anywhere it can flood, mind racing at 110 miles per hour.
How was she to sleep now?
Part 4
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