#and the thing is none of the other girls get the same amount of hate
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mearpsdyke · 2 years ago
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the amount of hate lorena and yamila receive is particular because their skills or views have nothing to do with the hate comments (well in yamila's case it is part of it, but that's a discussion for another day), it's because they dare to be footballers as well as butch lesbians. men don't see female footballers as athletes but as something they can only value as long as they fit cishet beauty standards, so when they see a woman being unapologetically masculine in a lesbian way, they lose their fucking minds because if they can't masturbate to them then they're of no use, and therefore should be treated as less than human.
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prickly-paprikash · 6 months ago
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Kendrick doesn't just hate Drake as a person. He hates the very idea of Drake.
Hip-Hop is rooted in revolution. In defiance. These are the songs of an oppressed group of people, and decades upon decades people have hated it. Accused of being meaningless and invalid. Media outlets took steps to belittle hip-hop and make sure it isn't recognized as an art form and as a means to fight back.
2Pac spoke of wealth disparity and inequality. Tupac was literally a member of a communist organization when he was younger and never stopped speaking against capitalism.
Lauryn Hill spoke of the struggles a woman faces. Not just women, but black women. Salt-N-Peppa. Queen Latifah. MISSY FUCKING ELLIOT.
N.W.A made sure people knew about police brutality and violence against the Black community.
And now, in this day and age, we're also experiencing an explosion of Queer Hip-Hop. Lil Nas X is at the forefront of this. Lil Uzi Vert came out as non-binary and uses they/them pronouns, even when they knew that a lot of their fans would never use it or even respect them for it. Auntie Diaries, a song about a young man who grew up in a transphobic environment and bought into those beliefs, but could never fully do it because his Uncle loved him so much and taught him a lot of life lessons, and that wisdom translated to him accepting his cousin as a woman as well.
Drake is none of that.
He's the perfect representation of what people think hip-hop is. Flexing. Posturing. Objectifying women. A fucker so insecure he bought 2Pac's ring just to feel like he's part of the black community. Rejected by Rihanna publicly. Tried to groom Millie Bobby Brown. Kissed and inappropriately touched an underage girl during his concert. His songs have inspired so many young boys to treat girls like shit. His belief that the amount of rings and chains and cars he has is the true meaning of success.
Additional Edit: This is my fault. If this post gains more views, then it would be remiss of me not to add to this. It was my fault to begin with, not stating this beforehand because while I did know, I got lost in celebrating Hip-Hop in a place that doesn't usually do so, and rightfully so.
2Pac did fight for wealth equality and better social living for the black community. He also has a long, long history of battery, domestic abuse, and sexual harassment against women. Specifically against women of color. He made a song to celebrate his own mother, but outright refused to give the same show of respect to other women in his life. His hypocritical nature was brushed off in later decades, just the way I did now.
N.W.A is the same. Sexual assault charges, violence—they spoke of Police reform, but refuses to give the same treatment back towards the women in their lives.
50 cent refuses to backtrack on any of his misogynistic lyrics.
Modern rappers of today, such as the dead XXXtentacion. 6ix9ine. Kodak Black.
I do love Hip-Hop. I love rap. And the music itself has always been anti-authoritarian at its core, because those are its roots. And I was happy that circles that did not normally know of it or enjoy it were getting into it, even for one thing like this rap feud.
Lil Nas X, Little Simz, Childish Gambino, Missy Elliot, Queen Latifah, Lauryn Hill—rappers who have at the very least consistently tried to put their money where their mouth is. Who have tried to act in accordance to what they rap and write and sing for.
@shehungthemoon @ohsugarsims finnthehumanmp3 were the ones who rightfully clarified in the comments. I know an apology won't correct my hypocrisy or my stupidity. I should have added all of this before making this post, but I wanted so badly to celebrate a genre of music but failed to do my due diligence in showing a better, holistic view of it. If anyone felt triggered, offended, troubled, frustrated or any other intense negative emotions surrounding this, please do block me. I'm sorry.
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carpentvrs · 4 months ago
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VICIOUS – Theodore Nott
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pairing :: theodore nott x f!reader (implied Gryffindor!reader but never mentioned)
summary :: (enemies to lovers). when you and theo get paired up for the nightly prefect-patrols, the yearlong hatred between the two of you may come to an end. or not.
based on the song vicious by sabrina carpenter
warnings :: angst!! she/her pronouns, use of y/n & y/l/n (only a few times), lots of cursing, british, mentions of killing someone (not serious), smoking, drinking, typos probably, 4.1k words
a/n :: english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes and feel free to correct me! this is my first story published on tumblr so i’m a bit nervous. my requests are open, feel free to share your ideas and I’ll come up with something!!
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„As a result of the ongoing danger in and outside of Hogwarts, the prefects will now walk around in pairs during their nightly patrols after curfew. And to show that Hogwarts and the witches and wizards attending this school stick together in such times, we have decided to pair up prefects from different houses.“
Harry, Ron, Hermione and you sat on your usual seats in the great hall as Professor McGonagall made the announcement. The boys and Mione didn’t really care about the announcement, considering none of them are prefects. Hermione at least listened to what the professor was saying, sometimes poking Ron in his arm to make him stop bickering and start listening, too.
You however, you didn’t take the news as easily as your friends.
Once you realized that being friends with Harry had its downsides, you started to appreciate the everyday repetitiveness. The homey things.
Ignoring the strength of the dark side in the wizarding world, you found comfort in the mornings at Hogwarts that were always the same. The fun you had at lunch with the boys and Hermione and the quidditch trainings and matches you could always look forward to.
It gave you a sense of normality in an abnormal world, just like your nightly patrols did.
Whatever may have happened during the day, you could overthink it during those few hours you had for yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, occasionally greeting and having small talk with the other prefects or scolding the little amount of students you would catch sneaking around from time to time.
Those patrols were your way of coping with stress, wherever it may have come from. Usually school, or the cognition that Voldemort won’t be scared to lift his wand against you and your friends the next chance he gets, whenever that might be. Not very soon, you hoped.
𖤓 𖤓 𖤓
„They’ve got to be kidding! There’s no bloody way I can go on those patrols with this assholes every damn night.“
You were furious. Taking away your alone time was one thing, but pairing you with none other than Theodore Nott, the biggest dickhead to ever walk the corridors of Hogwarts, that just had to be a sick joke.
You hated his guts. You hated his manwhore-behavior and his obnoxious superior complex. He thinks he’s too good to attend any of his classes and simply uses his prefect-advantages to take points from Gryffindor students for fun. You doubted he knew what playing fair even meant.
Every damn house party, he somehow felt the need to judge either you outfit, you hair, your makeup or just anything else he can find to complain about. And as if that wasn’t enough, he loved taking advantage of your resentment towards hookup culture, never failing to somehow end up right next to you while one of the many girls who seem to be kissing the ground he walks on was hanging on his lips as if he’d remember her name tomorrow.
And don’t get started on quidditch. the amount of times you leave the pitch with at least a dozen new bruises just because of him almost makes it seem like having pushed him off his broom that one time wasn’t enough yet.
In comparison to you and Theo, Harry and Draco were just two puppies occasionally fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed animal first.
“Look- maybe it won’t be that bad, maybe you’ll even, I don’t know, start getting along?” Hermione tried to cheer you up, already knowing that “possibility” isn’t that probable.
“Oh come on Mione, Nott just has to look at Y/N and she basically explodes with anger. We have to be careful she doesn’t accidentally kill him one night.”
“Shut it, Weasley, this isn’t helping. I have to go and talk to professor McGonagall. Mione, come with me?” you asked.
“I’d love to, but curfew is about to start. I don’t wa-“
curfew only meant one thing: the nightly patrol
˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .
He was different than you thought. He wasn’t that bad. Not when you two were alone. A few months had gone by and, even though the first nights were a bit rough, you both managed to get along well. Really well, actually.
It became a wordless understanding that in the depths of the night, in the comfort of the quietness, when the only source of light in the castle were your wands and the lumos spell, you two weren’t hateful classmates. You were friends. Good friends even.
“I’m so tired, and why is this damn school still freezing cold at night? Bloody hell it’s june” you yawned. It was almost midnight and you and Theo had decided to sit down on one of the stairs. It’s been a long day and night, the younger students seemingly wanting to be outside during the warm summer nights. Understandibly so, you thought.
“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”
He handed it over to you after pulling it off of his body, accidentally showing a tiny bit of his toned stomach. You couldn’t help but look, slightly biting your lip to hide your smile.
You happily accepted the offer and slowly pulled the jumper over your head, your stomach suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy when you smelt his cologne. You breathed in and mumbled a small “thanks” to be boy next to you.
It wasn’t the first time he had given you his jumper. And it also wasn’t the first time you’ve felt this fuzziness in your stomach because of him, and you knew what it meant.
And he felt it too.
Theo never liked you either. He hated your goody two-shoes behavior in front of the professors and the way you would scrunch your nose in disgust whenever you saw him smoking. Sometimes he lit his cigarettes near you just to annoy you.
It all started when in fourth year, you accidentally kicked him off his broom during a friendly quidditch match. He didn’t get seriously hurt, he just felt humiliated. Even worse, by you, a girl he had been convinced to dislike ever since you befriended Theo’s best friend’s sworn enemy, Harry.
You wanted to say sorry the next morning during breakfast, but he strutted away right after seeing you on your way over to him. He was mad at you for embarrassing him, and you found his behavior childish. You both would’ve sworn that this hatred was going to be endless. Until now.
And that scared him.
He couldn’t possibly fall for the girl he had despised all these years. It wouldn’t work anyway. Their houses, their families and their friends just wouldn’t allow it. And their egos wouldn’t either.
Who was Y/N to fall for someone who treated other girls so poorly? Someone who dared to call her best friend worthless and walk around in school he as if he was just better than her and her friends.
But in intimate moments like these, with your head gently placed on his shoulder and his warm jumper wrapped around your body, you both forgot. You forgot about you’re prejudices, about your friends and your families. It was just you two.
Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same way. You doubted it.
As soon as the sun rises, the birds start singing and the castle starts awaking from its tranquil sleep, the peace between you two stopped. His smoking annoyed you. At parties he’d still sneak around with girls. After quidditch matches you’d be still fuming with anger.
Therefore you wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe in moments like these. Perfectly at peace.
Even though the feeling in your stomach when he looked at you or when you smelt his cologne was the same as always, tonight felt different. The usual comforting silence felt awkward and tense, like something that was yet to be said already made things harder.
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
Theo sighed.
“My friends would kill both of us if they saw us like this.”
“So what? I don’t care about you friends.” You scoffed. “I mean, they can’t know.” he said, almost in a whisper.
“Know what?” you asked as you slowly lifted your head from his shoulder and your eyes locked together. His gaze drifted from your eyes to your delicate lips and the air surrounding you was suddenly filled with a heavy tension and desire.
Your breath hitched and your whole body felt like it was on fire as he carefully started to caress your cheek. He leaned in and finally, his lips touched yours. The feeling of your soft lips on his slightly chapped ones was intoxicatin. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and in that exact moment, nothing else mattered.
All doubts you had suddenly left your mind, the only things you could think about being the feeling of his lips on yours, and the fact that you never want this to stop.
You wrapped your hand around his neck as the kiss deepened and it went on like this until you both pulled away to catch your breaths.
And ater that kiss, everything changed.
For the worse
His gaze landed on your eyes once again. And as your expression softened, his became harder. And darker. And the eyes you found yourself lost in just seconds ago suddenly turned cold.
“Did I do so-“
“Give me my jumper. I want to go to bed.”
“What?” You huffed. He can’t be serious right now, right?
“Give it to me, Y/L/N. Our job here is done and I’m tired.”
You scoffed and quickly pulled the emerald green piece of clothing over your head, breathing in his scent for the last time that night. He snatched it out of your hands and left without another word, leaving you alone on the huge staircase, confused and upset.
˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .
The next morning was even weirder. Your friends had to basically drag you out of bed and once you were seated in your usual seat in the great hall, you just couldn’t stop trying to catch his eyes.
But he seemed rather…. busy. Either you were imagining things or Pansy Parkinson was currently seated on his lap. At breakfast. You frowned and slowly picked at your food with your fork, never taking a single bite.
“Y/N, I think that’s your owl!” Hermione said, the daily prophet in one hand, a teaspoon in the other to stirr her tea. Once the letter dropped onto your lap, you swiftly opened it before quickly patting the owl on its head as a goodbye.
“It’s from professor McGonagall”
“What does it say?” Harry asked, seemingly interested.
You squinted your eyes and Hermione immediately went to look over your shoulder, reading it too as you turned the letter to show her.
“It says that she took notice of my complaints about the pairing and that changes will follow quickly. But I never went to complain about it. And we also never talked about it in class.” You scoffed. The letter was clearly directed at you, and professor McGonagall wasn’t exactly known for making mistakes like sending letters to the wrong person.
Meaning, someone else must’ve told her.
“At least you don’t have to spend any more time with that snob.” Ron chimed in, chewing on his breakfast. You just nodded.
You stopped listening to the conversation as Hermione started to complain about Ron’s table manners and you let your mind wander back to Theo. It must’ve been him who somehow told McGonagall about your complaints. It wasn’t that hard to believe him, considering the professors already knew about the hateful relationship you and Theo had going on.
“I’m gonna go tell Alex, maybe I’ll get paired with her.” You said, getting up from your seat. The trio hummend and waved at you, already being used this.
It wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, if Theo wanted to be a bitch then you definitely wanted to be paired with Alex instead of anyone else. But she also was the only one who knew about you and Theo, and you definitely needed to update her on what’s going on currently. You didn’t dare to tell the Gryffindors, afraid of how they might react. Maybe cutting off contact with you wasn’t so stupid of him. But it was so vicious.
Alex and you have already been friends before you even received your Hogwarts letters. You confided in her with everything, hence she also knew what had been going on between you and Theo these past few months.
She waved you over when she saw you walking towards the Hufflepuff table, letter still in hand. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to sit down. You exchanged quick hellos, and then you began talking, sharing every so tiny detail about last night. And the letter. And the still ongoing situation he had with Pansy Parkinson on his lap, giggling about something he said. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And he didn’t spare you a single look.
“That fucking twat! He can’t just kiss you and then pull shit like this! You should beet him up, honestly. Even better, kick him off his broom again.” Alex suggested, maybe a bit too loudly, as you were on you way towards potions. Breakfast had already ended and because you didn’t want to keep sitting where everybody could hear you, you decided to leave a bit earlier and take the longer way to the classroom.
“Yeah- I don’t know Lex, this is so weird. I used to hate him all this time and now- now I’m crying after him? This is so stupid”, you murmured, “maybe it’s better this way. Everything will go back to the way it was before and I’ll just- forget.”
But it didn’t go back to how it was before. He didn’t go back to calling you names. And whenever he saw you in hogsmead, he didn’t wait for you to cross paths to light his cigarette anymore like he usually did to annoy you. He just ignored you. And that frustrated you even more. Why couldn’t he just act normal? Why did he have to suddenly act as if you died? As if you just didn’t exist anymore? Why did he have to constantly remind you that something between you did change? How were you supposed to forget it about it like this?
Even in classes, when you dropped something, when you gave the wrong answer or when your potions turned into nothing more than a weird bubbling brown liquid and Snape scolded you for it, even when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone, he wouldn’t comment it. Draco would mock you. And Mattheo would laugh. Occasionally, if he saw you on your way out, Blaize would annoyingly remind you of whatever had happened in class. But Theo? He wouldn’t look. He wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t care.
But, to your luck, every last Saturday of the month, the students threw a party with all students from every house invited. Only if they were of age. The houses always took turns on whose common room the party will be held in, and July was Slytherin’s turn. Meaning Theo would definitely be there.
Originally, you didn’t want to act so petty. But you felt used after all these months of him pretending. So, there was only one thing you had to keep in mind for a few more weeks;
revenge is a dish best served cold.
And you managed. By now, you had already told Hermione about Theo and even though she didn’t like the thought of you and him at first, considering you spent lots of time together, it made sense. After all, she said it herself when you first got the message of having to go patrolling with him. Maybe you’d start getting along.
So, for the next party, Alex, Mione, and you came up with a tiny, harmless plan. You didn’t know if it would work because his ignorance towards you was still going strong, but it was worth a shot. And a little jealousy never hurt anyone anyway, right?
˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .
You dressed up. You needed to break his façade one way or another. A tight-fitting, almost-too-short red dress and your favorite jewellery delicately hanging around your neck and wrists with a few rings around your fingers.
You weren’t overdressed, but you didn’t usually go to parties like this. You just went there to have fun with your friends, get drunk and take your mind off of things, never to catch anybody’s attention. You were beautiful dressed up or not, boys always tried to ask you out at those parties no matter what you were wearing, but you always nicely rejected.
Today, you wouldn’t.
After you finished off you makeup with mascara and lipgloss, you put on your heels and finally made your way over to the dungeons, Hermione and Alex right next to you. The boys went first, you assumed they’ve already had some drinks, so hopefully the vibe wouldn’t be too bad.
“This is so embarrassing.”
“It’s not.”
“He probably won’t even look at me, just like he did the whole past month” you sighed, suddenly not feeling as confident anymore.
“If you won’t catch his attention, then surely someone else’s.” Hermione tried to cheer you up once again. “And it’ll at least help you take your mind off of him.” Alex added.
They are right, you told yourself. Just go inside, drink something to calm your nerves, and don’t focus on him.
Easier said than done. The moment you stepped a foot inside the common room, decorated with green lamps and lights, dark leather sofas and with loud music beaming through your ears, your eyes immediately searched for him. He was sitting there, hidden in a dark corner with a ravenclaw girl all over him, but his eyes focused on you.
You locked eyes.
Your breath hitched.
Goosebumps formed all over your body.
You looked away.
Your eyes settled on Harry who was calling you over, a drink for you in his hand. You took it from him, ready to just enjoy yourself and have a good time. For now.
You were more than just tipsy, stumbling over your words and your own feet. Your feet started to hurt in your heels and the guy you’ve been flirting with started to annoy you. His hand was steady on your hip and his lips grazed your neck as he whispered things into your ear you couldn’t comprehend, mind way too hazed.
Meanwhile, Theo felt as though he was going fucking crazy. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried so hard not to think about you. He tried so hard to finally get you off his mind. To finally make these feelings for you disappear.
He was supposed to enjoy himself tonight. Make out with yet another girl and then forget about you completely. Some alcohol would help, wouldn’t it? But no, you just had to show up in that tiny fucking dress, showing off your legs for everyone to see. And as if that wasn’t enough, you let that guy’s hands and lips wander over your body as if you belonged to him. You’ve never done anything like this before. You never dressed up like this, and every bloke who ever came too close to you would be hushed away in a second and now you basically bathed in those boys’ attention.
He knew he wasn’t one to judge. Not when he acted the same exact way every single party he went to. But the way you wouldn’t react to his smoke, the fact your nose didn’t scrunch up like it usually would, the way all of your attention was on that guy and not on him, it made him fucking feral.
“Uhhhm you know, you- you look good and all, and we should reaaaaallyyyy continue this another time, but I need some fresh- fresh air right now, so I’ll go.” You hickupped, actually feeling like his weird perfume would suffocate you if you didn’t leave right fucking now.
“I’ll go with y-“
“Nono, don’t worry, I’ll- I’ll go alone.”
You hurried away, not wanting him to follow you. You needed to get out of this huge castle, go somewhere you could actually relax, because the alcohol, in fact, did not help and finally come to terms with the truth; Theo never once left your mind. And your plan sucked too, having achieved absolutely nothing.
You felt way too hot, the smell of that horrible perfume mixed with smoke and alcohol overstimulating your senses. Plus, your mind was racing. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? Tell you what he was thinking that night, tell you what made him lie to your professors about “your complaints”, tell you what fucking made him run away after such an intimate moment.
“Fuckfuckfuck these shoes are fucking killing me!” you whined once you reached the exit.
“Then take ‘em off”
Your eyes opened wide and the cold rain drops falling onto your skin one after one made you shiver.
And so did his voice.
You knew he was standing behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. You stared ahead into the nothingness until you felt his presence next to you, arms brushing against each other. His cologne and the fresh air cleared your mind, sobering you up slightly.
“What do you want, Nott?”
“We need to talk.”
“Finally grew a pair or what took you so long?”
Theo exhaled. He turned around to stand face-to-face with you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. And finally that night, you held his gaze. The tension was palpable and you couldn’t help but fiddle with your bracelets and necklace, feeling overwhelmed with the sudden change of atmosphere.
“Listen, I- I know what I did was stupid. And absolutely, in no way, was what I did okay. I just- I’ve kissed a lot of girls before, we both know that, but that kiss between us- it felt so different and t-“
“So you left? And ignored me? And lied to McGonagall? And proceeded to let a girl sit on your lap during fucking breakfast the next fucking morning? That’s a low bow even for you, Nott. Stop behaving like a slut and then maybe we’ll talk.”
“Oh and how did you behave tonight? You’re allowed and I’m not?” His voice was low, his head bending teasingly low towards yours, eyebrows raised, awaiting your reaction.
You scoffed and dodged his gaze. Guess your plan did work out. “Complaining, Nott? One bloke I flirt with and suddenly you’re after me again? Well maybe next time you should think before leaving me! Because, believe it or not, to one of us that kiss actually fucking meant somethi-“
“You seriously think it meant nothing to me?” He yelled, frustration growing in his eyes. “I left because I was scared of what our friends would think if they saw us together! I- I know it was stupid and I got unnecessarily rude after but I’ve never felt anything like that before and that,” he huffed, “I guess that scared me.”
“So when it’s me you care about others opinions, but when it’s that Ravenclaw, or Parkinson, or just any other girl, then you don’t?” You asked, acting as confident in front him as you could.
“For fucks sake, it’s because I like you Y/N, don’t you get it? I genuinely like you! I left ‘cause you’re not like those girls. ‘Cause you’re actually important to me!”
You pondered for a second, lowering your eyes to look at your heels instead of his face. Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.
You looked up again.
Took a step forward.
And smashed your lips against his.
Your eyes closed as he didn’t waste any more to kiss you back and finally, you felt safe again. With that fuzzy and warm feeling in your stomach and his lips against yours.
“This dress looks so perfect on you.” His hands steadied on your waist, pushing you lightly against the wall. He kissed down your neck, your skin feeling hot. You began playing with his hair as your body relaxed under his touch. You didn’t care about the rain wiping off your makeup. Or about you clothes being absolutely drenched. Nothing mattered other than having him close to you.
“I like you too, Theo.”
His lips parted from your neck, instead he gave you a small peck on your lips, before embracing you in a tight hug, smiling into your hair.
And neither of you let go.
“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”
“Red doesn’t go well with green.”
“Nah, I think it does.”
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last part makes more sense as gryffindor!reader but whatever, I hope you liked it!
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latin5mamii · 3 months ago
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Hate you - Jude Bellingham
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WARNINGS: none, just cocky jude…
SUMMARY: You hate him, right?
GENRE: enemies to lovers
AUTHOR'S NOTE:Sorry for the wait girls😔😔, hope you like it🙏🏻
You’ve always hated him. That stupid, little smirk, the way he carries himself like he’s God’s gift to football, so full of himself it makes you want to scream. The arrogance when he talks about his goals, his wins, like he’s the main character and everyone else is just background noise. God, he’s so irritating.
And yet, you can’t stop looking at him.
It’s infuriating, really. How can someone be both so attractive and so insufferable at the same time? You’d never admit that to yourself, of course. You hate him, with every cell in your body. Right?
It doesn’t help that Vinicius, bless him, keeps pushing you two together like some clueless matchmaker. 
“Come on, you just need to spend more time together!” he insists, completely oblivious to how you and Jude can’t be in the same room for five minutes without getting on each other’s nerves.
“Didn’t expect you to be here,” comes that annoyingly familiar voice, laced with just the right amount of smugness to make your blood boil.Jude,leaning casually against the wall like he’s the king of the place, holding a drink with that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.
“Hi, what do you want?” you snap, barely hiding your irritation.You wanted to sound pacific but you know how that is…
Jude’s grin widens, clearly enjoying every second of annoying you. “Just thought I’d come and bother you, like always.” You can't help but notice his muscles through his shirt, you curse yourself for looking at them.
“I hate you,” you spit out, crossing your arms. You try to hold onto that anger, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you with that lazy, amused expression, like he’s got you all figured out.
He raises an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “Oh, really?” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping lower, almost like he’s daring you.
“Yes, really,” you say, trying to sound as convinced as possible.
“Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you push it down, refusing to let him see the effect he’s having on you. You look away hoping he'll leave you alone but before the banter can continue, Vinicius appears out of nowhere, throwing an arm around both of you with a grin that could light up the room. “There you are! See? You’re talking like friends already!”
“Friends,” you and Jude both mutter in unison, your voices dripping with sarcasm. You exchange a quick glance, and for a moment, there’s something almost playful in his eyes. It throws you off, makes you feel like you’re stumbling in a game you didn’t even realize you were playing.
"Maybe we'll become friends, who knows?"
You wrinkle your nose in disgust, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. 
“Ew, no,” you scoff, as if the very idea is something out of a nightmare. The thought of being friends with Jude (let alone anything more) is enough to make your skin crawl, maybe.
Vinicius just laughs. “You say that now, but I’m telling you, I can see it already.” He taps the side of his head like he’s some kind of psychic. “You two are gonna get together, break up, get back together, break up again, maybe three times at least. But trust me, in the end, you’ll be disgustingly happy.”
You’re about to fire back when you catch Jude shrugging casually, his expression surprisingly serious. “Yeah, probably true,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
You whip your head around, blinking in disbelief. “What?” The word comes out more like a squeak than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Did he just agree with Vinicius? Jude? The guy who’s been nothing but an insufferable thorn in your side since the day you met?
Vinicius claps his hands, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, I’ll be there for the wedding, just so you know. Probably the only one who isn’t surprised when it happens.” He winks and then, as if he’s completed his matchmaking mission, strolls away, leaving you alone with Jude.
You stand there, arms still crossed, trying to process what just happened. “He’s lost his mind,” you mutter more to yourself than to Jude.
“Maybe,” Jude says, his voice annoyingly casual. “But he’s not completely wrong.”
You turn to glare at him, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me? You seriously think that?”
He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t know. You seem a bit obsessed with me. Can’t blame you though.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Obsessed? Please. I just can’t stand your face.”
Jude’s smirk widens, clearly entertained by your reaction. “Funny, because you keep staring at it. Not exactly convincing.”
You feel your cheeks burn. “I’m staring because I’m trying to figure out how someone can be so irritating and full of themselves.”
“Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that,” he says with a lazy grin, leaning in just a bit closer. “You know, maybe Vini’s right. We’ve got that whole ‘enemies to lovers’ thing going on.”
You narrow your eyes at him, determined to hold your ground. “I don’t think it will ever happen, fortunately.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “If you say so. But let’s be honest, this back and forth? It’s kinda fun, isn’t it?”
You open your mouth to argue, but you hesitate. Because deep down, you know he’s right. But admitting that would be giving him exactly what he wants, and there’s no way you’re doing that.
"Let me take you out one night” He says out of nowhere.
You blink, caught completely off guard by his sudden suggestion. “What?” Your voice is sharper than intended, laced with both surprise and suspicion.
Jude’s smirk doesn’t falter. In fact, it widens, clearly satisfied with your reaction.
“You know, for Vini’s sake. Give him the peace of mind that his matchmaking finally worked.”
You cross your arms tighter, trying to hold onto your defiance. “We’re not gonna be friends, Jude.”Jude’s grin shifts, turning into something a little more mischievous, a little more intense. “You’re right,” he says, his voice lowering slightly as he steps closer, closing the gap between you. “We’re not gonna be just friends.”
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nataliasquote · 6 days ago
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Double the trouble | Switch Up | n romanoff
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Double the trouble AU
Summary: Yelena is back, the twins are older, and her scheming ways do nothing but backfire. a mother always knows…
Age: 8
Warnings: none
wc: 3.3k
note: hello! I’m back with another little oneshot for DTT. I’ve missed writing tbh and although this isn’t the best, I’m pleased to finally write. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting!
-⧗-
Leaving the twins with Yelena was either the best idea or the worst idea Natasha had ever had. But with Wanda away visiting her brother, Natasha didn’t really have much of a choice. Work didn’t allow her to take time off like this, so she turned to the next best thing.
The blonde was as grumpy as anything until she was faced with the two bundles of joy that were her nieces. She hated kids, but Isla and Y/n were an exception. She opened the door with a huge grin as the twins came barreling towards her, crouching barely over the threshold to collect them in a hug.
Natasha hovered back by the stairs with a soft smile tugging at her lips. Despite having a rocky patch, she truly loved Yelena with all her heart. And seeing her girls happy was all that mattered. She wished she could stay, but with new development plans happening at the studio, she had to oversee the final meeting.
“Are you staying all day?” Isla asked, peering round to look at Yelena’s truck parked in the driveway. “Where’s Fanny?”
“I’ll get her out in a minute, and yes I am, lucky duck.” The twins cheered at her response, their chatter tumbling over the top of each other as they bombarded their aunt with questions. Natasha quickly stepped in, taking them by the hand so Yelena could finally enter the house. After sending her girls over to the couch, Natasha pulled Yelena to one side, whispering in hushed voices.
“It shouldn’t take long, but in case I’m held back, there’s boxed mac and cheese in the cupboard and the girls made cookies last night so they’re in the green jar.”
“Mac and cheese, green jar, got it.”
“Please don’t give them too much sugar,” Natasha warned, knowing her sister’s tendencies, “and they have been arguing a lot, so good luck.” She didn’t really need to tell Yelena what to do, she’d babysat since they were really little, but it gave Natasha a piece of mind to know they were well looked after.
“Natasha, they’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me? Yelena asked with a grin.
“Absolutely not.”
Yelena rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “So who’s the troublemaker this time?”
“Y/n has been in a mood for the past few days, so it’s currently her. Apparently Isla's existence annoys her.” As if on cue, a yell sounded from the living room and Natasha inwardly groaned. A moment of peace was never on the cards.
As she went to sort out whatever argument was occurring with her eight year olds, Yelena let Fanny out of the car and watched the Akita bound up the front steps, her tail wagging frantically. Any normal person would feel bad about the amount of hair she shed, but it only made Yelena laugh. She truly made every place her home.
The scene in the living room was absurd even for Yelena. Natasha was scolding a pouting Y/n whilst Isla cried in her arms, clutching something hidden behind her hair. Yelena hovered awkwardly, unsure how to approach, and Fanny did the same. It was almost like she could read the room.
Natasha, breathing a sigh of relief, gestured for Yelena to approach, to which she did. A sniffly Isla was pushed in her direction and the young girl lunged at her aunt, clinging to her waist with a sob.
“What happened?” Yelena mouthed, her eyebrows shooting up as Natasha held up what looked like a barbie doll. “Where’s the hair?”
“This one got scissor happy,” Natasha said exasperatedly, jabbing her thumb in Y/n’s direction.
“She stole my barbie!” Y/n protested, folding her arms across her chest in a huff.
“No!” Isla burst out,” that’s mine!”
“Well I don’t care, I was playing with it!”
“Get your own!”
Above their heads, Natasha gave Yelena a look. This is what she had been dealing with since Wanda left and although she hated leaving her kids, the bickering was starting to wear her down. It was Yelena’s turn to handle it for once. She just hoped the house would still be standing when she got back.
“Girls, please,” Natasha sighed, standing up with the barbie in her hand. “Mama has to go in a minute, and I’m not having you acting up for Yelena.” She used her stern mom voice and Y/n paled, hating being told off. “Y/n, can you apologise to Isla please.”
“No.”
Natasha may have a soft spot for her youngest but the glare that crossed her features made the little girl’s eyes well up and she hung her head in shame. “Y/n…” Natasha warned, knowing what came next if she didn’t start behaving.
“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled, suddenly very interested in the sleeve of her pink sweater.
“Good,” Natasha stated, brushing off the dog hair from her sleek black suit trousers. “I want you two on your best behaviour, and Yelena will tell me everything that happens. If I find out that you’ve been disrespectful and naughty, I will tell Mama. Okay?”
The girls mumbled in chorus, with Isla still clinging on to Yelena and Y/n standing by herself. It was just a phase, Natasha had to keep reminding herself that, but it certainly felt as though it was going to last forever. She wasn’t the bad mom, but Y/n’s behaviour had been so bad lately that not a day went by where she wasn’t being told off. It hurt her to see her daughter so upset, but Natasha stood strong. It was her own kindred spirit that she saw in Y/n, and now she understood why she was such a difficult child sometimes.
“We’re going to have fun, right guys?” Yelena asked with extravagant enthusiasm, although the responses she got were far from it. “You can go and do your boring adult stuff whilst the cool kids do… cool kid stuff.”
Natasha anxiously glanced at her kids, a wave of doubt washing over her. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can cancel-”
“Natasha, go, I’ll be fine. They’re angels with me and I’ve got Fanny with me if it all goes wrong.”
The dog in question gave a small woof and Natasha eyed her warily, far more a cat person than a dog person. She wasn’t totally convinced, but motherhood had made her anxious so she straightened out her jacket and nodded, psyching herself up.
“I’ll be back by 5, 6 at the latest.”
“Have a good day Mama,” Y/n said quietly, trying desperately to get back on her good side. Having Wanda mad at her was bad enough, but having Natasha was the worst thing she could think of. And when her Mama crouched down and opened her arms, Y/n took her chance to get to the hug first, muttering another ‘sorry’ to try and make amends.
“Be good, girls. I’ll be home soon.”
‘Aunty Lena, does Mama hate me?” Y/n asked as the door closed. The blonde frowned and turned to her niece, her large green eyes piercing into the Russian’s soul.
“Of course not, little bug. But you have to start being nice to Isla, okay?”
“I know,” Y/n replied. “She just really makes me mad.”
“That’s what sisters do. Your mama and I used to fight all the time.”
Y/n’s eyes lit up. “You did?”
“It’s totally normal, little bug. When your mama had blue hair, I used to tease her about it all the time.”
Isla’s head perked up at that. “Mama had blue hair?”
“Has she never shown you pictures?” Yelena asked in disbelief. Both girls shook their heads and Yelena grinned. “I’ll make some hot chocolate and I can show you. Your grandma put all our photos as kids in an album.”
The twins cheered loudly and ran to the kitchen, laughing with each other. It was such a stark contrast to earlier that Yelena had to do a double take at what she was witnessing.
“I’m glad you’re not this much work,” she muttered to Fanny, who barked happily at the noise. Kids really were hard work.
~~~
“Lena, kick it!” Isla yelled across the garden, dancing around the goal whilst her aunt really took her time. She was doing it purely to mess with her niece, and it was working perfectly. With another yell, Isla sprinted out of the goal in an attempt to tackle, but Yelena took her chance and sent the ball flying into the goal with a thud.
“That’s not fair!” She cried, running over to retrieve it.
“Another point to Aunt Lena!” Y/n announced from her place at the side before launching into another back walkover. She’d only recently learned the skill at dance and was more than happy to do acro tricks whilst they played. As long as she kept score as promised.
“No! That doesn’t count,” Isla protested, one foot propped up on the ball. “She cheated.”
“I didn’t cheat, you just have no patience,” Yelena said sassily, propping a hand up on her hip. “You’re not going to make a very good goal keeper.”
“I hate soccer anyway,” Isla grumbled, kicking the ball as hard as she could in Yelena’s direction. “It sucks.”
“It’s only because you’re bad at it,” Y/n piped up, now sitting on the porch steps after exhausting herself from cartwheels.
“You’re worse!” Typical comeback but Yelena had had enough. With a roll of her eyes, she marched towards the goal, giving Isla a bump with her elbow as she walked past.
“New game, I’ll be in goal and you have to work together to score. Deal?”
Isla shook her head. “I’m not playing with her, she can’t even kick a ball!”
“I can too!” Y/n protested, sprinting up to her sister. “I’m better than you and I don’t even have lessons.”
“That’s so not true. You-”
“Guys!” Yelena shouted, her Russian accent thickly coating her words. “Do you ever stop this fighting? It’s so annoying!”
The twins went silent, an uncommon phenomenon. Y/n muttered something under her breath but Yelena didn’t have it in her to care anymore. Every time she babysat it made her more and more impressed at how Natasha did it. A true saint.
“New rules. You have to pass it to each other before trying to score. If you don’t, the point goes to me. Okay?”
“Fine!”
Surprisingly, very few fights broke out over the course of the game. Isla did most of the scoring after Y/n well and truly botched her tries. But in her defence, her legs weren’t made for kicking the shit out of a soccer ball.They were made for cartwheels, which Isla soon got fed up with.
After far too long outside, Yelena rounded them up and herded them back inside after teeth started chattering and Y/n’s soaked trouser legs from falling over were turning her lips slightly blue.
After a quick bath she sat them both on Isla’s bed and dug through her closet for some comfier clothes. After a few minutes she sat back on her knees, her mind racing.
“Do you guys match anymore?”
“Ew,” Isla said, her nose scrunching. “Never. All Y/n wears is pink, and I hate pink.”
“You also hate dresses too.”
Yelena was quiet for a moment, the cogs in her head turning. She turned around with a sheepish smile, almost shaking with excitement.
“I have an idea, but you need to cooperate… okay?”
~~~
Natasha sighed as she stepped out of her car, her breath forming a small cloud in front of her. It was far too cold for October and she rushed up the front steps to get inside. The building work was looking amazing and she knew Y/n was itching to get back to the studio just as much as she was (there was only so much kitchen ballet they could do).
It was eerily quiet as the front door opened, only her heels sounding on the wooden floor as she approached the kitchen. She wasn’t met with a pile of bodies throwing themselves at her, which was probably more strange than the silence. Had she trusted Yelena too much and her sister had kidnapped her children and ran off to Russia? Honestly it wasn’t such a surprising theory.
Empty kitchen… empty living room… this was weird. But the sound of giggles couldn’t be hidden and Natasha kicked off her heels at the bottom of the stairs and took the stairs two at a time, her trousers straining around her thigh muscles. Isla’s laugh was the most distinguishable and she pushed the door open slowly, trying not to startle anyone.
The wholesome sight of the three of them sitting on the floor surrounded by stuffed animals was enough to melt Natasha’s heart and she smiled softly, leaning on the doorframe waiting for someone to notice her. And strangely it wasn’t Y/n but Isla who jumped up first, almost stumbling over Fanny to get to her Mama with a shriek.
Natasha caught her daughter in her arms and pressed kisses all over her face, warmth flooding her body. She would never feel complete when she was away from her girls.
Y/n quickly joined in, wanting the same cuddles. Natasha crouched down and stroked their cheeks before pausing slightly, squinting. Something wasn’t right and Yelena’s overly wide grin didn’t help her suspicions either. She stroked Isla’s hair with a chuckle and straightened up, her back aching from bending down so much.
“Did you girls have a good day?” She asked, watching as Y/n settled back on the floor beside Fanny. “You both look happier than when I left.”
“We played soccer and beat Aunt Lena!” Y/n piped up. “I scored all the goals.”
“No, I helped too!”
Natasha didn’t miss the way Yelena nudged her nieces or how their eyes went as wide as saucers. But the redhead just chuckled and took a seat on Isla’s bed, her legs slightly aching from standing all day.
Isla stood in front of her, clearly torn with where to go. Natasha knew she wanted to sit on her knee but watched as she settled beside Yelena again. It was impressive, Natasha gave her that much. Very dedicated to the cause.
“You did? Well done baby. Have you behaved today?”
“They’ve been angels, sestra, as usual. It’s only you they are bad for.” Yelena had a shit eating grin and it took everything in Natasha not to launch a pillow at her head. But she could not condone aggression around her violent children anyway before Y/n got any more ideas.
“Is that right?”
“Mama you had blue hair!”
If looks could kill, Yelena would be well and truly dead. If there was one thing Natasha hated, it was pictures of her younger self. She made far too many questionable decisions and went through one too many boxes of hair dye, so seeing pictures was a no no. Not even Wanda had seen many. And now her daughters had seen the worst ones which she was never going to live down.
“Yelena Belova… what did you do.”
The blonde just shrugged and jumped up, causing Fanny to do the same. The queen of avoiding things. “Who wants Aunt Yelena’s special mac and cheese?”
The twins both cheered and raced out of the room after their aunt, leaving Natasha slightly bewildered in the blue and white room. There were times where Natasha convinced herself that Yelena wasn’t all that bad, and then she pulled stunts like this and put herself back on top of Natasha’s hit list. But that was never going to change.
“What else did you show my kids, Yelena?”
No reply. Typical.
Natasha truly was outnumbered when her sister was around. But then she remembered what was really going on and a small laugh escaped Natasha’s mouth. Adorable, really.
Y/n and Isla helped as much as they could to make dinner, including standing on a chair to stir the boiling noodles and dumping the cheese packets in when instructed. Natasha was banished to setting the table after Isla gave her a lecture about her inability to cook, clearly something else she’d picked up from Yelena. But Natasha yielded, setting the cutlery down with a shake of her head. The longer it went on for, the more she tried not to laugh. And the more slip ups she noticed.
Like how Isla wouldn’t stand on the chair because she was scared of heights, even though yesterday she climbed the largest tree in the backyard. And how Y/n stood still when waiting for her turn, when she’d usually be twirling around with her apron. Natasha could only watch as Yelena heavily emphasised their names and the twins burst into giggles whenever they answered her. It was adorable to see and she couldn’t wait to tell Wanda.
They ate in silence, which was usually the case when mac and cheese was involved. And the girls did very well, Natasha gave them that, until she pulled an admittedly evil move.
“How about cookies?” Yelena asked once plates were cleared and the table was wiped down.
“It sounds good to me,” Natasha agreed, grabbing the tin and sitting back at the table. “One each, you too Yelena. And Y/n, you know the rules. You got in trouble today so you don’t get a cookie.”
She slid the tin to Isla who happily reached in until a protest sounded from the girl next to her.
“That’s not fair! That’s my cookie!”
Isla had already shoved her cookie in her mouth at this point, the crumbs sticking to her cheeks and the front of her shirt. She grinned happily, thankful she agreed to Yelena’s scheming plot.
“Mama! That’s mine!”
Natasha shook her head. “No Y/n, those aren’t the rules, you know that.”
Isla smacked her palm against the tabletop. “I’m not Y/n! She is!” She pointed at her sister harshly, who was licking the crumbs from her fingertips. “We switched!”
“Isla!” Y/n whined, “You weren’t supposed to spoil it!”
“I’m not losing my cookie, give it to me!”
“No,” Y/n said with a grin. “Mama said you can’t have one, so you can’t.”
“I hate you!”
Natasha watched the scene unfold, with Yelena looking more and more concerned. The blonde turned to her sister for help, but was met with only a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
“Do something!” Yelena hissed, but Natasha shook her head.
“Absolutely not,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair. “It’s your mess, you fix it.”
“Tell her Aunt Lena!” Isla cried, tears threatening to spill. “Tell her I’m Isla! I’m not Y/n.”
Whilst Isla was nearing a breakdown, Y/n’s mean streak thickened. “These cookies really are good.”
“Mama please!”
Natasha rounded the table and placed a kiss on Isla’s forehead before passing her the biggest cookie from the tin. “Here baby, you’re okay,” she soothed, gently wiping her tears. “But your Aunt is an idiot. I did know it was you all along Isl’s, I’m sorry baby.” She picked her daughter up and set her on her lap, holding her close as she ate her cookie.
Yelena’s mouth fell open. “You knew?”
“From the moment ‘Isla’ ran to me first.” Yelena hit the table, muttering ‘dammit’ under her breath. “A mother always know, Yel. Always.”
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lunarw0rks · 1 year ago
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Hello! I just found your blog and I just started reading everything I saw 😅. Can I request 141 + König + Alejandro with a pregnant reader? They don't know yet and when the reader will break the news they are really stressed with work and end up taking it out on the reader, they end up getting into an argument and saying they hate the reader and that their life would be so much better without the reader in it (😈). The reader takes this seriously and leaves when they are asleep... Months later they meet again when the reader is on her way to the hospital to give birth (😈). Angst to fluff pls. If you don't feel good about writing or it's too big, that's fine. Have a nice day and thank you so much for all the time you spend writing to us.
The Things We Say // 141 Drabble
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Summary: You're expecting, but it's not good news. To him, at least. Your relationship takes a hit, but once he meets your child, he's swallowed with regret for how he treated you.
Warning(s): angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of premature birth/complications, mild injury/blood, strong language, established relationship, fem!Reader, no use of y/n
A/N: I was hurting my own feelings---but, there's fluff after the angst, so don't get too upset besties<3 Hope you don't mind anon, I took some creative liberty because I didn't want them all to have the same plotline. | Word Count: 5.9k
꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.
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SYNOPSIS; he had been in the thick of it lately, sometimes more overwrought when at home with you than in active combat, it seemed. Conversations were either abrupt, crude, or nonexistent—often just building on top of the tension building between the two of you. Relationships were supposed to be fifty-fifty, but you felt you were carrying the burden of the whole percentage. That’s why the news couldn’t have come at a worse time—you, staring at the two lines instead of one. No matter how long you stared, double-checked the diagram, the answer was the same. Pregnant. So, now you knew two things for certain, you were expecting, and most heartbreaking—the other one responsible was at his worst. To break the news to him, it took every fiber of your being.
⋘ » ☆ « ⋙
AFTERMATH; nine months of hell. That’s how you would answer if someone asked. Few people did though, even at work or out on the street. There was the occasional boy or girl, how are you feeling. But they were being polite, or taking pity on the pregnant woman without a ring on her finger. The pregnant woman with bags under her eyes, the one who winces with each step because she’s ready to pop. None of it meant anything to you, because the other half of this responsibility had been left in the dark, and not for much longer. You weren’t raising this child alone, no matter how irate he was going to be when you contacted him.
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Price
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One of John’s many talents; stewing on his feelings, keeping them suppressed for an unnatural amount of time.
Often so long that he forgot about the source of his anger once he had time to catch up to them. That is… Until his work was involved. Then he was an entirely different man, often spending his time deep in a bottle and with a nose deep in paperwork, with little regard for anyone else around him.
His control, it was typically so consistent, that he knew not to bring his professional problems home. But lately? It’s been anything but typical. He wasn’t what you would call mean, but there was definitely a negative word to describe it. Cold? Apathetic? Perhaps even unwelcoming?
The bickering, if you could call it that, had droned on for several minutes now. Though, it was mostly you venting your frustrations to an uninterested Price. ❝I know it’s not good timing, John. Why the fuck do you think I’m in here trying to reason with you? Are we just supposed to ignore this until we can’t anymore?❞ You hissed, tempted to rip the paperwork from his grip to get him to pay attention.
He always wanted children, but not right now. Naturally, that’s when it happened. He felt like he was drowning, at first only professionally, but now personally too. The funds weren’t a problem, the kid had two parents, but… you and him—nothing was working.
❝Sweetheart, I’m in the thick of it right now. Please.❞ He didn’t need to raise his voice for you to see how irritated he was. Perhaps at the baby, you, himself, or all the above. ❝I have a meeting.❞ He stood up from his workspace, steaming coffee in hand.
John walked away from you like you were a pestering soldier, not the mother of his child. Enough was enough.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
He thought he was slick, only giving you physical checks to see your face, to ensure that you were indeed alright. It was often the coffee shop within equal walking distance of your two separate homes. John would always slide the amount you needed across the table, a look of remorse on his face. Each monthly meeting, your stomach would grow in size, as did your drained expression.
But you wouldn’t talk to him. You would only text him the amount, nod when he asked questions. It was the worst torture you could put a man like John through—one that needed the approval of his loved ones. It just couldn’t happen, not yet. The wounds of how he treated you, they were too fresh, even after nine months of this routine.
To be truthful, you debated on even calling him when you went into labor. You could do it alone, right? With just the support of the delivery nurses, and most of all your baby girl as the reward? Perhaps you could wait until after, give him the respect to at least meet his daughter. For someone not carrying a child, he looked just as beat; sunken eyes, less tidy facial hair than usual, and somehow even more tobacco on his breath.
John was clawing himself from the inside out, begging for something other than a “yes” or “no” from your lips.
❝I can’t do this,❞ you repeated it about fifty times, tears streaming down your cheeks from both the pain and the distraught feelings. That plan you had to not call him, it was falling through quite quickly. This level of agony? You needed someone other than a doctor. You needed the father, as much as it pained you to admit.
❝Yes, you can dear, women have babies everyday.❞ Bless the nurse, she was trying her best to keep you calm, but it didn’t work.
What if something went wrong? If somehow you didn’t make it but your baby girl did, she would be alone until he got here… That couldn’t, no—wouldn’t happen. He needed to be there, right beside this bed to hold her in case you couldn’t.
In between your pained grunts, you finally spit out what you’d been trying to tell her, finding a split second of sensibility during all this distress. ❝Call… John. Please, call him!❞
The doors swung open faster than any of the personnel, his gaze softening when he saw you breathing in a patterned fashion. The nurse beside you gave him a nod, freeing your hand for him to take her place. John wasn’t going to miss this, and frankly, he was irked that he almost did. But he wasn’t irked at you; he was irked at himself for taking this for granted.
His soothing voice talks you through each contraction, a soothing hand dabbing away the sweat and tears streaming down your face.
❝I got you, sweetheart. You’re almost done pushing.❞ Though he looked gruff on the outside, inside he was distraught. You had maintained the cold shoulder throughout the pregnancy, but you still called him here? You were more than he deserved in his eyes.
The last round of pushing, and they were close together now. You had about thirty seconds to say this, before you were screaming again.❝I’m glad you’re here.❞ Despite all the pain you were in, you gave his hand a squeeze, staring at him with a glossy expression.
His eyes nearly watered; the first sentence you had uttered to him in months, and it was clear you meant every bit of it. You needed him and so did your daughter, right here right now. He pressed a kiss to your temple, a soothing massaging your shoulder.
John kept his tone firm on purpose, to emphasize how deeply he cared for you right now. ❝I’ll always be here for you, love. Always.❞ 
Simon
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Simon loved deep; hated even deeper.
It was one of the features that drew you to him in the first place, how blunt he could be, how his broodiness contrasted your personality in more ways than one. His cynical behavior could be humorous, could be reassuring, but most of all—bitter. To add stress to the equation, to bring it home? He was an explosive disaster waiting to happen.
❝Simon,❞ you approached from behind, holding the test in your hands, because you knew the first question he would ask when you told him; is if you took one. Well, if he wasn’t actively cursing under his breath, he would’ve.
Instead, he merely flicked his eyes over for a brief moment, as if you were a stranger on the street that said excuse me. ❝Simon.❞ Your tone grew firmer, clutching the stick with more apprehension.
❝Bloody Christ, what?❞ He shifted in his seat, bloodshot and hooded eyes that only twisted the knife further. You couldn’t tell him now, not with the pressure of being on the spot. The right words just wouldn’t come out, prompting you to put the stick behind your back. ❝Goddamn nuisance.❞ He muttered under his breath as if it was only supposed to be an internal thought. 
Though, he didn’t look all that remorseful about it—at least on the outside.
He had never said anything like that before, at least not to your face. It seemed, all the weeks of tension and cold shoulder, it was enough. You were done and out the door the second he’d dozed.
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Simon made a few futile attempts to reach out, but his own stubbornness prevented him from ever being face-to-face. He beat himself up so badly, and from his side of things—he’d only lost one person, not two.
It pained you to ask the delivery nurse to call him. You wanted to shove the crowning newborn right back inside and hold off, to go find him yourself and smack sense into him for putting you through this agony. But you couldn’t. Quite literally couldn’t get up, and didn’t want to. Resulting in pettiness and venom would make you worse than him because you would be using this child as a pawn.
He said nothing, but his eyes said enough. The nurses put a sterile drape over his shoulders, but he paid them no mind. His amber eyes remained on you; a bulging belly and an expression of pure agony. Had he missed something, a crucial chapter of your new life post-breakup? Most of all, why did you call him?
❝Hold my hand.❞ Simon found the side of your bed, allowing you to dig your fingernails into his forearm until there were imprints. He had few words, but the countenance of concern and guilt said it all. If this wasn’t his… you would’ve done this alone, or the father would be here. Then it dawned on him; it was his.
Hours passed, and he still hadn’t mentioned the obvious. Nine months without his support—financial or moral. You needed rest, as did the baby girl—so you were getting it, first and foremost. The adult matters would be better talked about when you weren’t still freshly recovering.
Simon tapped his foot against the tile, sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was unsure of who to keep an eye on more; the newborn swaddled in her own crib, or you, exhaustedly sleeping in your hospital bed. Though he’d held the girl, it felt forbidden, like he was only a placeholder until your body recovered enough to do it yourself. It was shock preventing him from feeling, not cruelty.
You stirred awake, a sigh of contempt when you laid eyes on him. The labor was a blur your mind had already shut out, and you truly didn’t recall the nurses contacting him. Your eyes were glossy with dark circles underneath them. ❝I’m…❞ It was like the night you tried to tell him but couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come out.
Simon saw that look in your eyes; the fear that he would explode, or storm out and leave you with the child forever—but he wasn’t. All the years of trying to not relieve the same mistakes his own father made, it would be useless if he did that. And he couldn’t, seeing that look of desperation on your face, how you looked as if you were going to burst into tears at the sight of him. That look, it was the same one that gnawed at him during those months apart, how he found you and your belongings gone.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. ❝Shh… Don’t apologize. Ever.❞ He was hovering now, a kiss pressed to your forehead. Whatever you decided when you were healed enough, he would take it like a man, because he had the audacity to speak to you like a man who wronged him.
Soap
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Soap was… a complicated man to say the least. Usually, he was sweet, charming, with the right amount of cockiness. His ability to make you laugh drew you into him in the first place. But it was dwindling—at least during the past few weeks. Now, all that remained was smugness and bitter mutters under the breath.
❝Don’t be a child about this, we’ll figure it out,❞ He says, slamming his car door behind you. The first time you two had been out to dinner together in weeks, spoiled because you finally broke the news to him. You teared up in the restaurant because his reaction was anything but accepting, and frankly, he found it embarrassing.
He hadn’t meant it that way—that’s just how it came out.
He truly did want to figure this baby thing out, but it was the worst possible timing; an all-time high of stress at work, bickering with you constantly. And now, a third added to the dynamic with only months to prepare? It was too much. ❝Oh, I’m acting like a child?❞ You walked into the house, taking off the jewelry you had on to look nice for him.
The bickering that ensued—it was nothing nice, nothing you’d care to remember.
❝I don’t want you to go, lass. Don’t do this.❞ You had already made up your mind. Perhaps it was your emotions clouding your judgment, that instinct you felt being a few weeks along… It didn’t matter, you couldn’t be here. Not with him, not right now.
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You were about to pop, literally any day now. You knew that meant you would have to talk to the father, and interact with him for about eighteen years—at least be civil. But the rationality of it, how you would have to co-parent with him, didn’t ease your anxieties. Of course, he was adamant about checking up on you and being more of a parasite than the fetus taking half your energy.
You closed the car door with your hip, a slow waddle up the pavement. Where the hell your keys were, that was another story—something you would deal with once you rolled yourself up to the door.
❝What the hell are you doin’?❞ The voice nearly made you drop all the grocery bags in your grasp, a jumpy shriek coming out. When you whipped around, it was Soap, a look of upset on his very expressive face.
Once you started to recover from the scare of a lifetime, an unintentional one at that, a scowl formed on your face. It was like he had a sense of the absolute worst time to show up and annoy you, especially now that you were swollen and extra agitated. ❝A phone call would’ve worked, Johnny. Or, I don’t know, maybe a ‘hey I’m right behind you, lady’!❞ You attempted to mock his accent out of pure frustration, but he didn’t find the humor in it, at least not right away.
He yanked the bags out of your grip, stomping up the steps of your porch. ❝You shouldn’t be carryin’ these.❞ You really should not be doing that, he was right, but the thought of him being your grocery boy—showing up even more? ❝Keys.❞ He held out his free hand, the other one swimming in bags. It was ridiculous, apparently, you weren’t allowed to twist a key now, either.
You shove past him once he’s turned the key, squeezing past and joining him in the kitchen. Without a word, he starts putting away anything and everything you bought. Some are nutritious, others purely to feed your cravings. ❝Don’t start.❞ You pointed a finger at him when he picked up a family-sized bag of candy, a smart-ass comment daring to escape his lips.
❝God, I can’t believe you, Johnny. Sneaking up on me like that, I could’ve fallen.❞ You put an instinctive hand on your stomach, still irked by his presence.
❝No, you would’ve fallen carrying all those bags yourself. I have a right to be worried, it’s my bloody kid too.❞ He retorts, a hand on his hip. He’s done all he’s obligated to now; carrying and putting away your groceries.
You tighten your lips into a line, fighting the urge to start a full-blown argument. ❝Yeah, you remind me every day, so thanks for tha— Shit.❞ It seemed, raising your voice counted as exerting yourself because there was a sudden cramp in your stomach, a trickle down your pant leg.
Soap’s eyes widened, seeing you go from scolding him to hunched over and holding your stomach. You had forced yourself into labor, now standing on knees about to buckle. ❝I’ve got you, now get going woman, before I put you over my shoulder.❞ He felt he had never moved faster, a tight fist around your forearm to keep you standing as he led you through the door you had just walked in.
It seemed there was little time between being admitted to actively pushing. This kid wanted out, and right this second. You let out a shriek as the back of your head slammed against the pillow, sweat trickling down your brow as you cursed and wailed. ❝I know it hurts, love, but you got this.❞ He allowed you to clamp down on his hand, to dig your fingertips until they drew blood.
❝Oh, you know do you?!❞ You snapped at him, finding it hard to be nice when you felt like you were being ripped in half.
❝If I wasn’t,❞ you grunted in between words, face scrunched and labored breathing, ❝stuck in this damn bed, I would so… hurt you right now, Johnny.❞ He fought the urge to snicker just a little bit, masking it with his concern for you. Seeing you in agony, even when you were actively snapping at him, it didn’t please him one bit.
Well, you were arguing with him, so he knew you weren’t actively dying.
If you used enough of that anger, it would help you literally push through the pain, just like how it caused the kid to want to come out right this second. For once, his pestering and sarcasm were actually helping.
With one final wave of it, your back arched off the bed and finally, the loud cry of an infant filled the white-walled room. Soap nearly fainted, if he was being honest—he was awfully squeamish for someone who dealt with blood daily. But it was your blood and… fluids, things that made him shiver when he pictured how painful that could’ve been.
The doctors were speedy, cleaning off and checking vitals. All he could do was stare at the newborn—his baby boy. And then he looked at you, choked up and stared in awe at the baby set on your chest. ❝Jesus…❞ he leaned down, placing a gentle hand on yours as it held the child’s head.
All the fighting, all the bickering, even the late-night candy runs—they were well worth it. He had a second chance now, to make things right with you, and to be a decent father.
Gaz
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Gaz could be hotheaded, sometimes downright blunt, especially when he’s passionate about something to do with his work. The night you were going to break the news, nothing was going right. He came home in a huff, not bothering to take off his boots before plopping on the sofa. Kyle had a right to be stressed; look at what he does all day. But he didn’t have a right to be cruel to you because of it.
You took a seat beside him and set the positive test down on his thigh. A silence followed by a scowl, and then he finally spoke. ❝You can’t be serious.❞ It nearly gutted you right then and there. His leg began to bounce anxiously the longer he glanced at the life-changing test results. 
❝Kyle, I—❞ you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say either, not that he gave you a chance. ❝I don’t have time for this, babe. I really can’t do this right now.❞ He put his head in his hands, a flustered groan escaping his lips.
❝Are you saying you don’t want this? That we shouldn’t have done this?❞ You were suddenly standing, eyes wide and watering. You felt like you had just been dumped on the street, despite his unclear tone.
He peered up, lips in a blunt line. ❝Maybe we shouldn’t have.❞ You could’ve crawled into a hole and died right then and there, but you merely nodded. Nodded and then left the room, leaving him to his moodiness. No, it wasn’t the best timing, but that didn’t give him the right to brush you off, to treat you like a distasteful afterthought.
It wasn’t just you anymore, it was you and the baby.
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It was one of his few days off—though he wasn’t feeling much relaxation. You were still hot and cold with him, now about halfway through your third trimester; thirty-two weeks to be exact. It was nearing that point, where he had prepared a spare room for the baby, began coordinating plans for labor, etc… 
But he still didn’t feel ready, or like he deserved you after how cruel he was that night. Kyle was only helping you to help you and the baby.
His phone buzzed, right when he had begun relaxing for the evening. 10:32 PM; and it was your number. The second he heard the voice of a nurse on the other line, not yours, his feet were halfway out the front door.
❝I’m fine, Kyle. I’m fine…❞ It seemed no matter how many times you repeated it, he didn’t seem to believe it. From the minute he entered your hospital room to now, he had at least one hand on you, a thumb grazing the cuts and bruises on your body. You had been in a car accident—mild for you, life-threatening for a preemie. ❝You’re not fine.❞ he said firmly, eyes darting towards your clothes bagged in the corner—bloodied and with windshield pieces still embedded.
Kyle was more worried about you at first, but you were solely concerned about your baby—left alone in the NICU being poked and prodded by personnel. You had to be induced, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it past the front doors. Now, he was too weak to be visited, too small and vulnerable to be held by his own mother yet. It was gut-wrenching; hours without a solid answer, because his chances depended solely on him making it through the night.
Now, there was nothing to do but wait, perhaps see your baby through a glass box if you got lucky.
❝He’s perfect,❞ Kyle peered down at the preemie in his hands, a baggy blue cap on his head. There were small babies, and he was somehow smaller. What once was the scare of a lifetime, it was now a passing memory to remind Gaz of what he could’ve lost. He would never make the mistake of talking to you like that again, even if the two events didn’t correlate.
What if the night you left, you got into an accident then, and it was much worse? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, plain and simple. ❝It’s cheesy but, he does have your eyes.❞ You whispered from the nursing chair you were sitting in, still healing and fatigued from the ordeal. The picture in front of you; Kyle looking at your son with such love—it was irreplaceable and forever stuck in your memories.
❝Correct. But he has your scowl, babe.❞ Gaz flicked his eyes upwards, feeling you gently nudge his shin at the sound of the comment.
It didn’t matter the things he said months ago, as long as he cherished this new life with you as much as you planned to.
Alejandro
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Alejandro always had passion for the things he cherished; you and his work, nothing else mattered more. Passion led to intense feelings, intense feelings turned into misplaced bitterness. It wasn’t your fault that you were expecting, no more than it was his, at least. He knew that and had he just taken a breath and thought more carefully about his phrasing, this whole mess could’ve been avoided.
❝Do you think I wanted to interrupt you, Alejandro?❞ You hissed, standing in the doorway of his office with the positive test in your hands. He had just looked at you with such distaste as if you were the root cause of his stress and not his work.
What better way to stir the pot, than to match his wrath? Well, it certainly did that, though seeing him rage was the last sight you wanted to see. Alejandro always had trouble with his anger, often finding himself with all these feelings he had no clue how to control.
❝You always do what you want!❞ There it was, him blowing his fuse. He’d thrown his hands in the air, face tightened into a scowl. He couldn’t leave it at that, either, not when his rage came in such intense waves. ❝You’ll do what you always do—bleed me dry!❞
You couldn’t speak, despite how vicious you felt only seconds before. It seemed too truthful for your liking like he had been waiting for an excuse to spill his guts. ❝As long as you have enough to amuse yourself, I’m nothing to you, right?❞ He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his mocking tone was enough to tear at your heartstrings.
Had he seriously played that card with you—the man always insistent on taking care of you, financially, physically, emotionally? Now, of all times? The argument ended with you slamming the front door behind you, something he would’ve done.
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You spent weeks ignoring him, and throughout the pregnancy, it was dry texts or brief calls. His only sign that you were even alive was the notification that you had used his account to purchase necessities. The irony of it made Alejandro nauseous, how awful he made it sound that you were doing what he told you to; to let him take care of you. The fact that you didn’t drain the funds, only bought what you needed, spoke volumes.
❝I’m not upset at you, amor—I wasn’t upset with you.❞
Alejandro reached a hand across the picnic table, a firm but loving grip on your forearm. You looked beat; hair a different length than before, exhausted eyes that were brimming with tears, and most of all a growing stomach. It was all his fault; the reason you didn’t want to face him like this, in fear that he would cut you and the baby off for good. Only, he was there to see your face, not for confrontation or another spat.
It didn’t matter what you said, if you screamed at him right now, or said nothing. Alejandro had made up his mind the night you left. ❝I’ll come to every appointment, parenting class, anything.❞
Of all the nights for you to be in labor, it had to be during a wicked storm. You had gone over to his house to make civil conversation over dinner, to at least attempt at repairing things. He had slaved over the stove, cooking his favorite for you. For most of the meal, things were… surprisingly tranquil; even romantic.
You were heavily pregnant, were you supposed to refuse a warm meal? Not a chance. You were too full, too swollen to get up out of the dining chair once the meal finished. And looking out the window? There was no way in hell Alejandro was going to let you drive home in this; droplets whipped down, trees and waste bins flew away from the force of it, and the rain was icy. Well, you were exhausted, and he had a bed he was willing to give up. Your back and feet practically sighed in relief when you laid back in his bed, the one you two once shared. It was a nice feeling, being there again and knowing Alejandro was trying his hardest to plead forgiveness.
About an hour into your much needed-slumber, you felt a pool in the sheets. Instinctually, you figured it was the fetus pressing on your bladder—a downright embarrassing thing you’d have to wake up and explain to him. But… it was clear it wasn’t that. You were in labor and stuck here.
The shriek you let out when you got a violent contraction; Alejandro dashed quicker than he ever did when dodging bullets. His fumbling fingers dialed 911, yanking the comforter off the bed to get a better view of your dilation. Fortunately, he was trained on how to deliver a baby when stranded, or in a country without medical support. But this was his baby and your life was in his hands. If he didn’t do this correctly, if something went wrong, he would never forgive himself.
The ambulance wouldn’t be there for an hour—you didn’t have an hour to spare, this baby was coming now. ❝You can do this, amor, we’re doing this together.❞ One hand clenched yours, the other kept an eye on the crowning baby. Just how you hadn’t woken up sooner, neither of you knew. Perhaps you had gotten so used to cramps and pains, that you thought it was just another sleepless night courtesy of the little one.
The moment your wails went silent as his baby girl finally came, Alejandro felt his heart drop. He had to make the worst decision; focusing on the newborn first. He wrapped her in one of his shirts, wiping the fluid and blood from her small face. As he cradled her, a quick hand fingered for a pulse, a loud sigh escaping his lips when he felt one. You had only passed out from the pain—probably doing you a service, considering he didn’t have the proper medication to numb your pain.
Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the wailing child, still with gritted teeth. But your baby was there—and her lungs were very clearly working. Alejandro set her down on your chest, allowing you to hold your daughter for the first time. ❝You did so well, cariño. Look at her.❞ He was merely distracting you with the baby on your chest, to not divert your attention towards the state your body was in as he cleaned you up.
Somehow, he had pulled this off with both his girls safe, soon to be checked out properly at a hospital. When you first broke the news, he thought he knew the meaning of being so suddenly thrust into fatherhood, but that took on a whole new meaning after tonight.
König
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There had once been a line he didn’t cross, but he did that night. König never yelled at you. He saved that stern side of him for his work because it was acceptable there. But in the weeks that his work had bled onto you, spoiling the relationship, his values seemed to loosen. Though he was a complicated man, a man uncertain of himself and his appearance, he maintained a hardness about him. Ruthless in the field and immensely protective of anyone that had come to love him. 
You approached him as he worked, placing the test on the desk he was sitting at. ❝König, I need to tell you something.❞
With his head facing the paperwork, he merely shrugged at you. Until he saw what you’d placed there, his eyes going wide. But it wasn’t shock or excitement; it was disdain for the fact that this baby was just another interruption—you were just another interruption. ❝I have no time for this, Schatz, you know that.❞
He didn’t need to raise his voice for his words to sting, his bitter tone was more than enough. But he surely hadn’t meant it like that, right? He’d meant he didn’t have time for this right now… right?
❝Why don’t you go rest, then?❞ He asks, picking up the folder that he was reading previously. It wasn’t a request made out of concern, König was patronizing you. His glare was typically enough to make a soldier scramble, but you just stood there for a few seconds, biting back the urge to choke.
How you left that night, it wasn’t dramatic or emotional, it was dry. König tells you to think clearly about this, to sleep on it. But you couldn’t—and you weren’t going to be a verbal punching bag.
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König only called you weekly for appointment updates, or to let you know he had sent you a check. Other than that, words dripped with tension and the urge to say so much more. But you were too stubborn for your own good, and so was he. You were more concerned with hosting life than playing games with a father who treated you like a wimp.
He’d only seen you once, during the second trimester when he showed up at your apartment. You protested, but he showed up anyway, saying he needed “proof” that you and the fetus were safe. The voice on the phone wasn’t enough, in his eyes.
Of course, when you needed him most, screaming and keeling over in the kitchen, he wasn’t there. It was a neighbor that called an ambulance for you because they knew they had a pregnant tenant next door. In fact, it was such a close call, you nearly didn’t make it to the delivery room before the newborn came out wailing.
The only plus side? While the paramedics were deterring you from pushing, you’d sent a text—probably unintelligible—but a text, nonetheless. He knew your due date, how today was only a few days off, and he was in his car before he could grasp the severity of this new life stage.
❝I’m here, schätzchen. I’m not going to hurt you again, or him.❞ He hunched over the bed, eyes in a perpetual state of disbelief as he watched you soothe the whining newborn. Clarity hit him like a truck when he heard your screams during delivery, and then he was all in. Not that he had a choice, this was his doing too.
He had given you the financial support to get proper nutrition for you and the baby, to pay for the appointments, but that wasn’t enough—not in König’s eyes. He needed to snap out of his self-pity and be a support system. Whether you wanted to co-parent or work on repairing the relationship, you were not under any circumstances taking care of this newborn alone, at your apartment.
He placed a hand in your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. ❝We can clear out the spare room, hm? There’s more than enough room for the two of you.❞ He was already picturing it, how he was going to pull an all-nighter and get to work on the room, going to your apartment and moving the baby supplies from yours to his.
König didn’t need to state the obvious, that you weren’t bound to any type of relationship besides the one concerning the child. Whether you wanted to move out once the baby hit a certain age or not, he was going to keep an eye on the two of you.
Two of you, not just the newborn you were rocking. It was either both of you, or neither, and he was intent on it being the first option.
If you made it this far - THANK YOU!
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cupidbedsy · 5 months ago
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𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 | 𝘭𝘩43 ♔
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➪ summary: luke always knows when his girl is sad, and this time it's no exception
➪ warnings: depression, fighting parents, kind of bad family dynamics
➪ word count: 1.6k
➪ file type: fic
➪ sunny's notes: this is so weird because i'm listening to really hype music while editing the sad fics. oh well, i wrote this when i was sad so that's fun. also i reread this and i actually almost cried because i didn't realize how well i portrayed my own emotions in it so that was also fun
© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
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There was something about that time of year that caused her depression to hit its highest level. There were a lot of reasons that could’ve caused it, but there was none that she could say was right. It wasn’t seasonal depression, she had been asked that a plethora of times. It wasn’t a feeling of not being enough, she had been told that by multiple therapists.
She could say it was her parents fighting, her parents’ financial struggles, her brothers' snarky comments about how he couldn’t wait to move out and not deal with their crap anymore. She could say it was her family going to her for every little thing that went wrong, the amount of shit she gets from everyone in the family, the comparison of her to her brothers. It could’ve been a lot of things, but she wasn’t about to pin her depression on her family members, it didn’t seem right. 
Every one of her friends and family knew she had depression, it wasn’t a secret. She felt as if as soon as her parents were told about her diagnosis they couldn’t wait to tell every single soul they knew. She felt like she was a story waiting to be told. She often thought that if she had a kid who acted the same way she did, she would know how to raise them better. 
She hated critiquing her parents and her brothers, but they did it to her, didn’t they? She knew about the multitude of times her parents had gone to talk to her brothers about how she hadn’t been to class in a week, how she looked fine so there was no reason for her not to go. She felt like the little boy who cried wolf, however, for much different reasons. 
She always said she was sick when she felt this feeling looming over her so her parents wouldn’t get worried, and they would let her stay home from school. But then, she would actually get sick and no one would believe her. She was stuck in an endless cycle. 
Luke was worried. He had known about her tendencies to fall into this state of mind and not know what caused it. He knew about her family, the therapists, the psychologists, and the social workers. He knew about the multiple attempts everyone had made to get her to open up, about the amount of times she had screamed in her head at them that she didn’t know. He knew about everything.
It was easy for her to open up to Luke when they first met, he had this unmistakably calming and supportive aurora about him. He had bumped into her one day in freshman year, immediately apologizing for not looking where he was going. She had been on her way to the dining hall while he was on his way back, but he offered to take her there anyway. 
Ever since then, they had been each other’s rock. Luke asked her out two months later and the two were practically inseparable. However, this was the first time he had experienced this side of her. He could tell it was happening just slightly, her face said it all. He wasn’t entirely sure of what to do, she had always told him it was nothing to worry about and it should be better in a couple of days. But it wasn’t.
She wasn’t the best at answering her texts, not wanting to face the fact that she was not doing well. She had been cooped up in her room for almost a week now, usually occupying herself with reading or playing a game on her phone. She wanted to go to class, she wanted to do her work, she wanted to do better but she just couldn’t. 
She stared blankly at her phone as her podcast played through her earbuds. She had seen a text from Luke come through but she didn’t pay much attention to it. She felt bad for not answering, yet another part of her brain just accepted defeat and the fact that he might be mad at her. She had been able to get up and sit at her desk which was a step in the right direction, however she hadn’t done much since she got there. 
She heard a knock on the door, ignoring it at first. When the knocking became more persistent, she sighed and got up. Her, Luke’s, hoodie fell from its original bunched-up place in her lap as she walked over to the door. Her eyes had dark circles around them, her hair was tied messily in the back. She opened it and looked at the person standing on the opposite side of the door.
“Hi.”
Usually, she would’ve been excited to see her boyfriend but at this point, that was what she dreaded most. Her face looked tired as she stared at Luke with blank eyes, “Hi.”
Luke nervously shifted his weight back and forth between his feet at the sound of her voice. It was hoarse from the lack of use, it had unfallen tears caught in it, and it had a hint of harshness laced in it. His mind flooded with thoughts as her voice reached his ears, he hadn’t been expecting it to sound that way.
She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something more but he didn’t. The lack of communication between the two caused them to stand in the doorway for three minutes. Luke’s nervousness and awkwardness were seeping into y/n’s body language as she toyed with her hair and stood with her left foot propped up behind her right leg. 
When they made eye contact, the tension in her body went away and her eyes softened, “You wanna come in?”
He nodded and she stepped back so he could walk in. Instead of going back to where she was previously sitting, she went back and climbed into her bed. The feeling of being able to be vulnerable in Luke’s presence made her want to curl into herself, she didn’t want to be vulnerable right now. She pulled her comforter up to her chin, creating heat around her.
Luke shivered from the moment he stepped into her room, goosebumps rising all over his arms. He sighed when he saw his girlfriend revert to her original space, moving to sit at the edge of her bed. He placed his hand on her calf, the sheets creating a barrier from them touching, “Hi baby.”
Those were the only words that both of them could muster, an awkward tension forming between the two of them for no reason. She just stayed staring at the wall in front of her. He let out a soft sigh at the lack of response and turned his head away from her to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to approach this, she had told him not to worry about her but he couldn’t help it. 
“What can I do to help?”
She shrugged in response, not giving him her full attention. Luke slowly moved his thumb to start rubbing her calf in circles as a form of comfort. Another moment of silence passed again, and the two slowly started to become more comfortable with each other once again. 
“Luke?”
“Hmm?” 
“Can you lay with me?”
Luke all but jumped onto the opportunity she gave him, slipping his shoes off and climbing in behind her. He wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. It was a mere five seconds before y/n was turning over and burying her head into his chest, “I’m sorry.”
“For what? You haven’t done anything wrong, baby.”
“For not responding, and for being like this.”
Before he had shown up she had hoped he wouldn’t even think about coming over. She hated when people had to see her like this. It wasn’t because of the way she looked but rather the thought that nobody would understand how she felt, that everyone would just complain about her problems.
But Luke was absolutely, positively in love with her. From the moment they met, the way he had been able to make her laugh within two minutes, the way she was able to ramble on about random things to a stranger amazed him. She had him wrapped around her finger since the moment they bumped into each other and there was nothing that would change that. 
He frowned at her words, “Don’t be sorry. You can’t control it.”
“I just wish it would stop sometimes. Move on from me.” He kissed her forehead and held her tighter, feeling angry at the world for doing this to his girl.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you.”
Her fingers went to tangle into his hair, her frowning at his apology. She played with one of the curls that had been sticking out amongst the rest due to its length. Luke calmed down at the feeling and gave her a small smile. It was hard for her to return the action, not having anything to smile about. 
Luke knew that was all he needed to do, just be there for her even if she said she didn’t want him there. Remind her that he would be there to support her through everything, even the parts she didn’t want him to know about. Reassure her that those feelings were common even if he didn’t know what it felt like. Love her as if the world was gonna end tomorrow.
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miley1442111 · 6 months ago
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(part 7) choices on the court- a.donaldson
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a/n: this is kind of a bad and i hate it but i need to post it to make the next part make sense so sorry that it's awful the next part is actually good i promise :) i'm posting them together but like... it just makes sense in my head ok sorry :)
summary: the confrontation where you find out about a few things. (dw there are more parts after this :))
pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader
warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, sexual content, etc. +
PART 7 of 12
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Art felt like his world had been crashing down around him for months even though he was getting what he wanted. He had Tashi (despite their break-up that lasted a week), he was going pro, and he had all the deals and things he wanted. But he didn't have you. He felt like a lonely idiot, and he lost a lot of enjoyment for things. Tennis was a job, not a passion. Seeing you on the courts, watching you work was the highlight of his days, thank god he had the Nike deal.
But it nagged at him. You were fucking Patrick. You were fucking Patrick even though he'd know about his infidelity and not told you, just like Art hadn't. What was so special about Patrick?
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You stood on the court, Art on the other side. 
“You’re fucking Patrick?” He tried to keep his tone even, but he knew he failed by the way you served the ball. 
“Why do you care? You got Tashi, you got what you wanted,” you hit the ball back and forth with so much strength Art narrowly hit it back. 
"I never said I have anything I want," He hit the ball back.
"So what do you want? Two girls at the same time?" you scoffed. "Just admit that you're contented with your life and move on, it's fine Art, I'm happy for you and Tashi just like you should be happy for me and Patrick."
"So you and Patrick are a 'thing' now?" Art missed the ball, then served it back to you with a ridiculous amount of force. The tension on the court was aplpable, certain words being punctuated by the slap of the ball against your rackets. You were both angry. Though, he had no right to be. He'd cheated on you. He's the asshole.
"Yeah, we are," you shrugged. "Just like you and Tashi are a thing."
“I don’t want Tashi! I never wanted Tashi!” He shouted back, dropping his racket and ultimately ending the game. “I wanted- I want you.”
“Then why did you fuck her?” you asked mockingly, laughing in his face. “Oh yeah, because you’re a fucking asshole who never cared about me!” 
“I care about you!” He shouted back. “I care about you enough to tell you that Patrick isn’t good for you!”
“And how would you know that? At least he doesn’t cheat on me!”
“It’s not like he’s completely innocent either,” he scoffed. “He watched. He watched me fuck Tashi.”
Your heart broke for a third time. How could you be so stupid.
“What?” you asked, lowering your voice. You noticed Patrick out of the corner of your eye and Tashi entering from the other entrance. “Is that true? You three all knew and none of you told me?!”
There was silence on the court. 
“Fucking answer me!” you screamed. 
“Yeah. No one told you,” Tashi answered. 
“Great. Y’know, keep me out of your weird fucking threesome bullshit from now on, please? It really shouldn’t be that fucking hard, considering you all seemingly hate each other. Just keep your heads out of your cocks, alright?” You shouted storming off the court. 
There was a silence over the court for a few moments. 
Then;
“Fuck you!” Art screamed. 
“Oh fuck me? Fuck you!” Patrick laughed. “You broke her heart, all I did was break her fucking hymen!”
“Fuck both of you! You’re both assholes!” Tashi shouted from the bleachers.
The boys looked at each other. “Fuck us?” they said in unison.
“You’re the one who pitted us against each other for your attention, then made our careers about you,” Patrick commented.
“ Tashi, you’ve been awful to her. You tried to sabotage her biggest match,” Art mentioned. 
“Fuck you,” they said in unison once again. 
----------------------------
Three months later…
“Hey,” You smiled, feeling giddy from the copious amounts of alcohol you’d consumed. 
“Hey,” Art smiled back, just as drunk as you. 
You’d gone back to your dorm. You’d kissed him. It felt good. 
“I’m so sorry-” he tried to apologise for well… everything. But all you wanted was to have sex and pass out.
“Shush!” You hushed him and giggled, pulling off your t-shirt and bra. Art’s eyes widened, then he smirked. His lips latched onto yours as you undressed yourselves and landed on his bed. You laid back as Art took his time kissing you. Your lips, your face, your neck, your chest, your stomach, all the way down to your core. 
“Art,” you moaned. “Please.” 
The haziness of the alcohol was getting to him and he was beginning to feel much too tired, but he’d be damned if he let another chance with you pass him by. “What do you want, baby?”
“You,” you moaned breathlessly. “You.”
A sense of pride blossomed in Art's chest. You wanted him. You were with him. Here, he wasn't second best to Patrick, nor was he controlled by Tashi. He was with you. His dream girl. "You have me, baby."
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You’d felt so stupid when Art wasn’t there in the morning. Why did you trust him? Why did he do that? 
Why, why why?
You two didn’t talk again. Well, not until about eleven years later. 
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art donaldson masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
people who asked to be tagged :)
@fkaams
@emily-b
@yourmommycallsmemommy
@hrtsj1m
@januarycolor
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joemama-2 · 4 months ago
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THE LESS I KNOW THE BETTER
gojo x reader
tags/warning: angst, gojo past arc, getou defect
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gojo didn't know what you two were. sure you guys were friends and acted like it, but that didn't seem completely right. do friends usually sleep in each other's bed at night cuddling? do they make each other breakfast and dinner? hold onto one another like they're your lifeline? but you two weren't a couple either. he had made that completely obvious way early on, and you were fine with that. at least that's what he thought.
he should be fine with it too. really, he has no reason to hold you back from talking to other people, meeting other people, doing....things with other people. you guys are still teenagers and he doesn't shy away from the fact that he does every single one of those things. so, why?
why does he feel a foreign, almost nauseating feeling in his stomach, rising up to his throat as if he wants to vomit his lunch? why do his muscles tense and fists clench? he's grinding his teeth so hard he begins to feel a headache take place. his eyebrows form a deep crease in the middle. but none of that matters right now. because he has the sudden overwhelming urge to kick something. or someone.
suguru and you are completely unaware of his presence, too caught up in your own stupid, little worlds that you can't even look at him. or, you do know he's there, but don't care. he's not sure what's worse. however, that's the least of his concerns.
it's the fact that suguru is looking at you with such tenderness, his thumbs running across the smooth skin under your eyes. he's treating you like you're fragile, priceless. and you're enjoying it.
what the hell is going on? since when were you two even acquainted like that? not only is he disgusted by his so called "best friend" trying to make a move on you, but he's disgusted that you don't even push him away. and the small kiss you give him on the tip of his nose really does it for satoru. that was his thing, you were only supposed to do that for him, to him. now you're going behind his back and being lovey dovey with someone who is off limits?
wow, you really were the worst, weren't you?
the words we're not together ring in his ears after he confronts you about the little show you put on for him.
it shouldn't bother him, but it does. why? he put these rules in place, it was his doing, his boundaries. you were just accepting that. so could he really be mad at you? be mad that you were not putting distance between you two and directing your affection, your love towards his friend.
no, he shouldn't. but he is.
no amount of other girls, other kisses he receives, and other touches could live up to you and your soft, welcoming hands. he can't help but see you everywhere he turns. you're all he can think about and it's slowly killing him. because you don't look the least bit affected by the sudden change.
and suguru is the reasoning behind that. he gave you what satoru couldn't.
but even after all his inner turmoil, satoru can't find it in him to be angry at you. so, he welcomes the distance, attempting to prove to himself that he can go without you, that you guys weren't serious in the first place. it gets harder and harder when you come to him spilling and raving about the newest dates and gifts suguru gave you.
is it on purpose? are you breaking his heart on purpose?
but with the warm smile on your face and that twinkle in his eye, one that he never saw when you were with him, he knows you're happy with suguru. and he listens, even offering advice on whatever problems you guys go through. not like he wants to hear any of it. he hates hearing it. he doesn't want to know about anything you two go through, because that same bile feeling from before forms.
so, he starts pushing you away. stops you before you can even mutter suguru's name. he limits the time you spend with him, making up excuses so he can't see you. the less he knows, the better.
until, one drunken night, he's left confused and angry with himself. you had snagged a bottle of cheap alcohol from yaga and came to him. you two used to drink together, before everything changed and suguru got in the way. you were persistent, telling him how much you missed him, almost pleading him. it was pathetic. you had suguru, why were you coming to him?
but just like how he can't get mad at you, he can't deny you.
you don't know how it happened. but you end up crying to him, venting about a recent fight between you and suguru. satoru isn't sure how to comfort you, he's never even seen you cry before. so he does what he knows best, he kisses you.
with intoxication playing a factor, things escalate from there.
"wait ten years, we'll be together."
can he trust you? you're both drunk and high off lust, he's not even sure you know what you're saying. you're probably gonna regret it, if you remember. but he plays into it, the small sliver of hope that's been manifesting taking over.
"don't make me wait forever."
and satoru knew suguru wasn't the same after the death of riko. he knew things were different. it hurt seeing his best friend slowly deteriorate and become an entirely new person. but what hurt even more?
the fact that you stook by his side through it all. you withstood his distance, dismissive attitudes, his harsh words that he spit out when all you wanted to do was comfort him.
why didn't you leave him? stand up for yourself? why are you putting yourself through this?
satoru just wants to shake you and wake you up from this stupid headspace you're in. this isn't like you. but no amount of convincing could help. because in the end, you loved suguru, not satoru.
that's why you left with him after being made aware of what he did.
losing his best friend is one thing, but losing his first love was another.
wait, love? did he love you? satoru can't find the answer to that.
satoru forces himself to forget about you, he gets rid of everything that reminds him of you, everything you gifted him, every picture of you.
out of sight, out of mind.
and it works for a few years. he has too many other things on his plate.
so it's concerning to him when he sees you for the first time on December 24th, 2017.
ten years.
you're not the same as when he last saw you. you've matured, features more defined. he won't deny you look beautiful. but there's one thing he can see, the twinkle in your eyes is long gone. your eyes look empty, like two black holes. they're dim and misty, and he hates it.
you're that devoted to suguru? seriously?
why? why are you still doing this?
satoru finds his answer. because he was doing fine before he saw you. he was doing fine before your eyes turned away from him.
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a/n: not my best work but i've been obsessed with this song for a few days now and thought of this.
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berrieluv · 2 years ago
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academic rival!Remus Lupin x reader.
oh, the "who did this to you" trope, my beloved.
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None of you knew how it started, and if someone ever dares to ask Remus would most likely groan at them, he didn't understood your dynamic.
He felt that nauseous feeling grow in him when you would get a slightly better note than him, even when it was the same note but your assignment got to be praised by the teachers.
You liked it. You needed the motivation and the competition to stay on top. Some people liked Quidditch, others joined the chess team, you and Remus created a rivalry to get through the school days.
Remus and you have never actually be friends. You liked James and Sirius, you thought they were funny, and in any situation you could imagine yourself dating Sirius, you shared a funny dynamic where you both would flirt. But the competition with Remus' took most of your time, it was almost as if he was your actual boyfriend.
Now that you think about it, you spent most of your time with Remus, or thinking about him, or thinking on defeating him. Your thoughts were 80% Remus Lupin and actually just a 20% school.
Now, in the last party before summer vacation, you both thought of taking a rest. No ditching your friends because you were busy studying, no "I can't drink, I have school tomorrow" anymore.
Just you, Remus and a ridiculous amount of butter beer. And of course, a lot of students as well, but Remus felt like it was only you and him right there.
You looked gorgeous. Remus thinks he never had any chance to look at you this way, to think of you as the most beautiful woman in the room. He knew you were pretty, he may hate you but he wasn't blind. He could see why Sirius had a thing for you. But now, in that exact moment, Remus couldn't take his eyes off you.
You were wearing jeans and a revealing blouse. Classy but somehow informal at the same time, Remus thought that maybe the shoes complete the outfit. That and your tide up hair, he wondered how much it took you to style it like that, he knew there was a lot of effort on the way you tried to make your hair look messy. It was a specific kind of messy you liked.
"Hey, Remus!"
He smiled at the girl who sat by his side, he didn't want to be rude, he was a gentleman, but his mind was killing him to turn around and watch you.
The girl in front of him was pretty, she was funny and she could keep up with any topic Remus would mention, she was well spoken and her body behaved in a way that was almost royalty-like, but he couldn't stop thinking about you, standing just a few steps for him, all that would take was to turn around.
"Remus, are you listening to me?"
No, he wasn't.
"No, sorry, love. What was it?"
She never got mad, not when Remus lost the track of the conversation or when he finally looked behind his back. To his misfortune, you weren't there anymore.
A few hours passed, the first girl was now long-forgotten and Remus was just sitting on the couch listening to Dorcas and Marlene talk about something and occasionally turning to ask him as well.
He felt his body on alert mode when he saw you again. It was around 1:00 a.m., if he was counting right, it was around three hours where he spent without seeing you.
Your face looked in panic. Your arms where hugging your body and your hair was in a different way than before, your lipstick also disappeared and he knew that sad smile way too well to ignore that something happened.
He excused himself from the girls and got up, making all the way to you, touching your arm only to feel you flinching at it, he frowned, because yes, you could say were enemies, but Remus has touch you many times, you could say you were used to it, and not once have you flinch.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes"
But your eyes were filled with tears now and you felt so embarrassed, of what happened and for crying in front of all this people. You hided your face on Remus chest, trying to stop people from seeing you cry, Remus started to move his body a bit so it looked like the two of you were slow dancing, even when the music was nothing like that.
Remus took you upstairs, it was James' home after all, he could do whatever he pleases there.
He sat you on Sirius' couch, in his room and looked at you better, with the lights fully on. There were wounds in your arms, the kind of wounds the nails cause when they're drowning in the skin.
Remus tried to touch your face and you pulled back with an 'ouch', there was no visible marks but he could tell your left cheek was sore comparing to the right one.
"Who did this to you?"
He didn't know why he was so mad – Well, he knew if it was any other girl he could try tot help too –. He didn't know why he wanted to kill, why the Moony part of him felt like waking up when they were so far from the full moon.
You couldn't speak, you didn't knew his name, you only saw a Gryffindor pin in his jacket before he took it off.
"He was blonde" You say with tears in your eyes, not exactly sure why you felt so comforted right there with Remus, you wanted that asshole to suffer. You wanted him to cry, you wanted him to know how it feels to have someone doing things to your body without you wanting them, without you being able to stop it. "He was a Gryffindor"
And it's not like there's only one blonde Gryffindor in Hogwarts, but he knew one that would do exactly something like this.
"Stay here, I don't want you downstairs"
"He didn't... he didn't got far!" You yell before he could exit the door "He just tried, he, he couldn't take off my clothes, completely, he just tried. Nothing happened. I'm overreacting" You said with tears in your eyes, you felt ashamed, you were dirty now.
"More than enough happened" Remus walked away from the door and kneeled in front of you, kissed your knee and looked at you "Now stay here. I don't want you downstairs, alright?"
How could he not know who it was? It was the same blonde Gryffindor who called you 'Remus' little bitch' once, the same man who said out loud in a boys' night at the common room how you were one of the main girls he fantasized about, how he wanted, no, needed, to have you in any way he could.
Remus felt sick at the memory. He remember how the words twisted his stomach back then and he remember doing nothing, one of his Housemates was expressing out loud how he would even come in terms on raping if necessary and he did nothing.
"Remus, I've been looking for you" Sirius says, hanging from his shoulder and walking at Remus' speed once he didn't stop; "Where're we going?"
The boy didn't answer, he couldn't, his tooth were clenching he felt like he could break them at any moment. And the second he saw those blonde hairs and that cocky face he didn't doubt for a moment on throwing the first punch.
Sirius would always tell the story, and he would always mention he swears he has never feel sober up as fast as he did that day.
The alcohol evaporated from his system.
"Mate, what the... what is wrong with you?"
"You know what you did" Remus answers, caressing his fist with his other hand and looking at Tom, ready to kill him at any moment.
"Oh" He chuckled "You mean what I did... to your little girlfriend?"
You were not his girlfriend, but Remus didn't think necessary to point it out now, in fact, he sort of liked the thought of that. He would come to terms with that later.
"She wanted it tho... She was throwing herself at me like a bitch in heat"
And Remus threw another punch. He didn't even think of this one, the only thing he knew is that his hand was already making contact his his face.
Tom fought back, he punched Remus and that's when Sirius thought of getting involve, when that bastard's friends started to go against Remus.
"She was drunk!" He yelled once he felt James pulling him away, Sirius distancing himself from the others once James arrived and yelled at them to stop. "You had no right touching her, she was drunk!"
Lily tried to calm Remus down while James made sure of kick everyone out from the party.
"Remus, relax, alright?" He tried to breath but he couldn't bare to even think of you, scared, begging for it to stop and not feeling strong enough to do something about it, the impotence. "Where is she?"
"Upstairs"
"What if you calm down and go look for her? How does that sound? Spend a bit of time with Y/N, she must be scared and exhausted. She needs you to be there"
He nods, that actually sounded good, just the two of you, lying in Sirius' bed, or you lying in the bed while he's on the floor, maybe just holding hands, he didn't know. He was so confused right now, too many emotions.
Remus walked upstairs and opened the door, you looked at him, worried and ran to inspect his body, he just chuckled.
"I heard the fight" You say, calmly.
"Sorry" He says and you frown "I thought Sirius' room was soundproof"
You shake your head "Why did... why did you get into a fight? You don't fight"
"I've come to realize, that I can only fight when it comes to you. Whether is against you or for you"
"You will fight me?"
"I fight you every single day it's crazy. I spend more time thinking about you than any girl I've like. My relationships don't work because I'm just looking forward the next time I see you in class to see if I did better than you. There's days where the only thing feeding my will to live is our silly competition"
"But will you fight me, tho?" You asked with a smile and curious eyes. "Like you did today"
"I could take you" He simply answer "Not in a fight"
You chuckle and look at him, his hair is messy, even more than it always is, his shirt is missing around three buttons and you can see his chest, his cheek is red and it's starting to turn purple and yet he still looks a weird way of divine.
And you felt brave enough to kiss him. Remus feel like standing on clouds, it was the first time he could confirm he believed in God.
"Does this mean we're not rivals anymore?"
"Don't be silly, Remus. One kiss doesn't erase years of competition. I could mop the dirt with you"
"What about two kisses?"
"I would have to think about it"
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copajay · 7 months ago
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knight in shining armor
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
masterlist
can you tell I’m in love with writing period pieces (even if they’re not that historically accurate…) btw, italics is y/n's thoughts and bold is euneok's thoughts.
summary: y/n’s a college student majoring in history on a school trip to a historical castle in england. somehow she and her academic rival, eunseok, get stuck in a secret chamber in the castle which ends up transporting them to the 1300s! will the pair overcome their differences and manage to get back to the 21st century? (not proofread)
date: 04/09/24
scenario themes: time travel, enemies to lovers, period piece
idol: song eunseok or eunseok of riize
concept: fluff, fantasy
warnings: swearing
word count: 12k (i got a bit carried away)
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song eunseok is an exchange student from korea who makes your college life a living hell.
you love studying history, especially the entirety of medieval england. you’re even writing your senior thesis on english nobility during the medieval period.
unfortunately for you, eunseok excels at history as well.
since you have such a huge passion for history, you’ve always naturally excelled at it. you tend to be a bit of a try-hard when it comes to school and that bit increases tenfold when it’s anything history-related.
it’s immature to compete so openly with a peer at this age. to many, ‘rivals’ are a high school concept. and yet, something about the way eunseok knows every detail about chinese foot-binding practices and confidently leads discussions about the cold war makes your eye twitch.
history is your thing.
you know you sound crazy, but it’s not like it was completely one-sided. eunseok hates not being the smartest in the room.
he worked his ass off to learn english, leave korea, and get a scholarship at your university. there’s no way he was going to settle for mediocrity.
and of course he noticed how intensely you glared at him when he answered a question you were dying to answer.
just like you noticed how annoyed he was when you would mention getting a slightly higher grade than him on a paper.
you were both in the same major which meant you had a lot of overlapping courses, and unfortunately for your professors and classmates, you almost always ended up in the same class.
for the most part you tried to ignore eunseok outside of class. sure he was the bane of your existence for the hour and a half lecture on roman architecture, but outside that he was none of your concern.
eunseok on the other hand found himself thinking of you quite often. it’s not like he always disliked you. in fact, he found your passion for history admirable, and he thought your dedication to your coursework was cute.
but when you began treating him coldly and sending him glares from across the room, he was quick to react in the same way.
eunseok isn’t stupid, he knows why you dislike him, and that if he was less of an overachiever, you’d maybe warm up to him. but he’s not going to jeopardize his grades and hard work to please some girl… no matter how much he’d like to get to know said girl.
you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, but there isn’t a soul on this earth that could waterboard that information out of you.
to put it simply, you can’t stand each other.
but right now that doesn’t matter. nothing matters. because you’re going on a trip set up by the history department to riize castle in england.
it might just be another old site to everyone else, but it's your absolute favorite castle. you know the entire history of the building, you've studied the floor plans an embarrassing amount of times, and have spent most of your childhood yearning to go there, and that dream is finally coming true.
and not even eunseok could ruin it for you... or so you thought.
your flight was set for 3 am, and while the other students were groggily arriving at the airport one by one, annoyed at both the timing and the expenses they'd have to cover for the trip, you were elated.
that is until you received your boarding passes and found out you would be spending the entirety of the 10-hour flight from california to england seated next to the one person you abhor.
maybe he's less insufferable outside of class, you thought to yourself.
after your group boarded you sat down next to him and the two of you continued to sit in awkward silence until takeoff. but once the plane began moving, you noticed eunseok starting to shuffle around and breathe heavier.
"are you alright?" you asked, glancing at his trembling hands gripping onto the armrest. "yes." he responded immediately.
"don't you go back to korea every school break, how are you scared of flying-" before you could finish your sentence, eunseok grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly.
you were about to interject but you realized the plane was beginning to ascend so he must've been frightened.
his hand was warm and soft, despite his trembling, the foreign feeling of his hand on yours was comfortable.
as soon as the plane was fully in the air, he let go of your hand as if nothing happened and picked out a book from his carry-on.
"um.. are you okay?" you questioned, confused at his sudden behavior change. "i get a bit nervous during takeoff and landings, i'm usually fine during the rest of the flight so you don't have to worry about me holding your hand for the next ten hours." he deadpanned.
"a bit? you were shaking like a leaf." you chortled. he rolled his eyes in response, going back to his book.
it was then that you realized you stupidly hadn't brought any entertainment with you for the trip, and your flight didn't have wi-fi either.
you decided the only thing you could do to remain sane in this situation is fall asleep, it was 3 in the morning after all.
leaning your head as far back as the stiff seats would allow, you closed your eyes and drifted off.
approximately five hours later, you woke up with a crick in your neck and an odd numbness on the side of your mouth. opening your eyes slowly, you were greeted with the site of eunseok's shirt directly beneath you with a large wet spot.
holy shit.
you fell asleep on eunseok's shoulder and drooled all over his shirt. if he didn't say anything this far he's probably going to the next 5 hours you're on this flight.
you haven't moved your head yet, scared that if you indicate you're awake, he's going to hold this against you until the end of time.
panicking, you accidentally jolted your stiff neck up, causing your chin to collide directly with eunseok's.
fuck. well there goes my cover.
"ow!" you both exclaimed in unison. "was drooling over me not enough? you had to break my jaw too?" he grumbled, rubbing his chin.
"you could've moved my head!" you defended, flustered. straightening yourself up, you wiped the side of your mouth awkwardly.
instead of responding, he grabbed a napkin from his bag and handed it to you.
"thank you." you said, taken aback.
why is he being so nice?
"i'm... sorry for ruining your shirt," you mumbled. "it's no big deal." he shrugged.
was this the same eunseok that commented "worst thing I've ever read." on your peer-graded essay?
maybe you could mend things with him during this trip. after all, he did seem pretty excited when the announcement was made.
"so... have you ever been to england before?" you began, initiating small-talk.
"can we just sit in silence?" he replied coldly.
nevermind, he's still just as much of an asshole as ever.
shit. why did I say that? eunseok thought to himself.
the truth is, you made him nervous. whether it was your icy stare or your intimidatingly vast knowledge on history, he could never let his guard down around you.
the rest of the flight was spent with the two of you refusing to so much as face each other until landing.
as the plane was about to descend, you noticed eunseok starting to take deep breaths. part of you wanted to extend a hand, but the other part of you wanted to throw him off the plane.
deciding to be the bigger person, you asked "are you alright?"
"I'm not a child." he croaked.
"I didn't say you were." you sassed.
"then stop talking to me like I am one." he began, growing more irritated.
the two of you began to go back and forth, and before you knew it you had landed. eunseok managed to forgot all about his fear because of how unbelievably petty the two of you were.
"will you guys shut up!?" a passenger behind you shouted, causing the both of you to stop arguing.
annoyed, you got out of your seat as quickly as you could and made a beeline for the baggage claim, waiting for your bags.
how do you keep getting forced into these kinds of situations with him? were you some kind of monster in your past life? was he your karma?
once you and the rest of your group received your luggage, you headed to the hotel. due to the time zone difference, it was already 9 pm in london so your group supervisors told everyone to get some sleep so you could head to the castle in the morning.
whether it was because of the nap you took on the plane, or simply how excited you were, you couldn't sleep at all.
staring at the clock reading 1 a.m. in your hotel room, you decided to try catching a glimpse of the castle before everyone else woke up at 7. it wasn't your brightest idea, but it's not like you had anything else to do.
you managed to get past your sleeping roommates, throwing on a jacket and slipping out the door. coincidentally, eunseok couldn't sleep either, and he decided to go for a walk around the hotel at the same moment you decided to leave.
spotting your figure leaving the hotel and heading off towards the street, he couldn't help but follow you.
was this extremely stalker-ish? yes. but what if she got hurt or kidnapped? we're in a different country after all. not like I care if she gets hurt or kidnapped... but if she did it would ruin our trip! so I have no choice but to follow her eunseok reasoned.
it didn't take long for him to figure out where you were going. the hotel is extremely close to the castle, after all. once you reached, you stared at the castle from afar, marveling at it.
you waited for this moment your whole life, and it was even more beautiful in person. there's no way you could turn back now. you have to see it closer.
carefully maneuvering past the gates, you managed to miraculously sneak in, and there didn't seem to be any security guards present.
what the hell is she doing? this is illegal!
what the hell am I doing? this is illegal!
you thought about turning back, but your curiosity was eating you up inside. you had to go see what the interior of the castle looked like.
thanks to your insanely intensive study of the building, you managed to find a secret opening that not many people knew of and you quickly slipped inside, hoping nobody would notice.
however, someone--that someone being eunseok--definitely did notice. and he mentally cursed himself for following you this far, wondering why he couldn't bring himself to turn back.
slipping through the opening, he entered a completely dark hallway, unsure of where you were.
you had dreamed of walking these corridors your whole life, and even without any light you were able to manuever around the halls.
unfortunately, eunseok couldn't say the same, and when he started walking, it didn't take long for him to bump into a stand of knight armor.
the loud crashing was enough to trigger an alarm system and turn on emergency lights, which exposed both eunseok and you to one another.
"what the hell are you doing here?" you shrieked "what the hell are YOU doing here?" he retorted.
you knew it wasn't long until authorities would arrive, so you grabbed eunseok and began running further into the castle.
"what are you doing? we need to leave!" he yelled.
"if we leave, they'll just catch us on our way out. we need to hide somewhere they won't look."
dragging him by the arm, you rushed into the old servant chambers, diving into the closet. well... what you thought was the closet.
what it actually was was a secret set of stairs that the two of you fell down, leading to a small room that you've never seen before.
impossible. i've watched every virtual tour, studied every reconstruction plan, read every primary source document... and i've never heard of this room.
"great. now we're stuck in a dark, cramped, dusty room in the middle of a castle that's going to be searched any second now and it's all your fault-" eunseok ranted, stopping midway when he saw you staring bewildered at the room.
"what's wrong with you?" he poked your shoulder.
"i... didn't know this room existed." you whispered.
"it's an old castle, I'm sure there's plenty of secret rooms everywhere... you think this is where the servants used to smash?"
"shhh" you urged him, hearing distant footsteps.
"what are we gonna do?" he sighed.
"let's just lay low until they leave. I doubt they'll look for us here. and don't touch ANYTHING. this room might be undiscovered and contain hundreds of year's worth of preserved artifacts-"
you were interrupted by eunseok toppling over a candle.
"EUNSEOK!" you whisper-shouted. "I'm trying to get some light in here." he defended.
fishing in his pocket, he pulled out a lighter before picking the candle off the floor and lighting it. once the room was illuminated, you could see your surroundings much better.
the room was stacked with cabinets and shelves containing miscellaneous items, it must've been used for storage. it seemed to have some personal items that belonged to servants.
you heard the footsteps start to get closer, and a voice appeared right outside the closet doors. looking to eunseok, you began panicking.
"blow the candle out! now!" you whispered.
eunseok blew out the candle and right as he did, the door creaked open.
shit.
shit.
"I know my rights!" eunseok yelled at the foreign figure coming closer.
"what are you talking about?" a woman's voice echoed throughout the room.
a middle-aged woman appeared with a candle in hand, dressed in a long cloth dress, similar to the ones maids would wear centuries ago.
"are you some kind of role-play tour guide? I didn't even know they did those tours this late into the night." he asked, confused.
"what? why is he speaking like that? and why are you two alone in here? and what happened to your clothes?" the woman interrogated.
the both of you had messed up your clothes running through the castle and falling down the stairs. your shirt was ripped up and dusty and his jacket was covered in cobwebs.
"oh, I see. the two of you are following eleanor and harold's example and fooling around in here! how many times must I tell you kids not to fornicate in the storage closet! go back upstairs and fulfill your duties." she reprimanded the two of you.
"told you they fucked in here." eunseok whispered to you.
you shoved him in the arm before responding "ma'am I appreciate your dedication to your job, but can you just tell us if you're going to turn us into the cops or not?"
"what are the... cops?" she exaggerated. you fought the urge to roll your eyes. you might be obsessed with history, but at least you can accept the fact that you live in the present.
"let's just leave." you turned to eunseok. "and get arrested? absolutely not." he crossed his arms.
"who is getting arrested?" the woman gasped. "you know damn well who, lady." he scoffed.
"lady?! I'm simply a chambermaid! have you hit your head?" she exclaimed.
"you know what, you're right. I'd rather get arrested than deal with this crap any longer." he sighed as the two of you began making your way up the stairs.
when you reached the top, you noticed the decor had changed drastically and the windows were letting in sunlight. wasn't it just 1 in the morning?
men and women dressed in modest, cloth clothing were running in and out of the halls and rooms.
"y/n... what's going on?" eunseok tugged at your dirty shirt. "it must be some kind of role-play experience? I'm not sure... how long were we in there?"
"you two must change out of your soiled garments!" the elder woman said, handing you a long dress and eunseok a matching set.
"wait! what's your name, and what's going on?" you sputtered, just as the woman was about to walk away.
"now I'm sure you've hit your heads. I'm agatha, head chambermaid and in one week from now is the duel of knights. we are hosting for the first spell in a decade and tis in a week. now get up and get to work!" agatha demanded.
dumbfounded, you and eunseok simply stared at the clothes she handed you. "let's just go along with it. maybe we can pretend we're a part of whatever this is and avoid getting in trouble." you urged.
"what about the rest? won't they notice we're gone?" he worried. "let's just focus on getting out of here."
he nodded in response and the two of you rushed to find a place to change into your clothes. once you were changed, you walked out and led eunseok back to the secret entrance.
to your surprise, the parking lot that was once set up in front of the castle had been replaced with a moat. a large moat at that. with a ginormous drawbridge leading to a dirt path. the city looked different as well, with the cars being replaced with horse carriages and once large, gray buildings now appearing much smaller and made of stone and wood.
"is there some city-wide renaissance fair happening? are we getting pranked? where's the cameras?" eunseok whipped his head around, waiting to see john quinones pop up at any second.
"is this a dream? did i go unconscious during the fall down the stairs? quick, y/n! pinch me."
you did so eagerly.
"ow! what the hell? I didn't mean literally." he complained, rubbing his arm.
"will you shut up? i need to find out what's going on." you huffed. pulling out your phone, you saw that there was no signal or wi-fi network available nearby. "that's weird, I swore the website said the castle had guest wi-fi." you muttered.
"i have an international data plan, let me try," eunseok whipped out his phone, only to find there was no signal on his device either.
"do you think... maybe, we're actually back in the medieval times?" you shuddered.
eunseok never laughed louder in his life.
"yes, y/n. we time traveled like we're in back to the future! should I call you marty? or do you want to be the old scientist?" he cackled.
"his name is doc brown. and I'm being serious," you began, "how else would all these buildings change overnight, and why else would all these people be wearing clothes from a different time period. look around: there's not a phone, car, or even pavement road in sight. there's no way we were in the castle long enough for them to make all those changes either."
"let's just talk to an actual sane person here and I'm sure they'll explain everything." he assured.
just then, a young woman wearing a silk blue gown walked past, surrounded by two men in armor.
"excuse me, miss. sorry to interrupt your little role-play party but my friend and i were wondering if we could use your phone to make a quick call." eunseok asked.
one of the men rushed forward, "halt! how dare thee speak so freely to her highness, the crown princess."
eunseok rolled his eyes, "i'm not hitting on your chick, dude, i just want to use a phone."
the armor-clad man suddenly put his sword up to eunseok's neck. "what the hell?" eunseok exclaimed.
"release him! who are you sir and why doth thee use such... peculiar language?" the princess implored.
"you people are psychos. no way you're taking this shit so seriously." eunseok grumbled, rubbing his neck after the guard let him go.
"answer her highness!" the other guard insisted.
"we are travelers, here to observe the duel of knights! I must apologize for my companion, he is delirious from traveling all day." you interjected, grabbing eunseok and beginning to walk away.
"wait! your companion is… quite handsome. and his odd way of speaking is rather charming. i wish for him to compete for my hand during the duel!" the princess chirped.
"yeah right, you're crazy if you think I'm gonna-" eunseok was interrupted by your hand slapping over his mouth.
"whatever you wish, your highness." you responded, bowing curtly.
"wondrous! I would also like to invite thee to stay at my manor. surely a handsome man like you is a person of importance." she batted her lashes at him.
"no thanks weirdo-"
"we would love to! we thank you kindly for the offer your highness!" you interrupted eunseok again.
"oh I must have misspoke. I did not invite your mistress, only you." she spoke, shooting daggers at you.
"mistress?!" you gasped which made eunseok send you a shit-eating grin.
"actually, I would prefer my mistress stays with me, if that's alright 'your highness'" eunseok mocked.
the princess rolled her eyes and agreed reluctantly. once the princess and her guards were out of sight, you turned to eunseok. "see how those men didn't hesitate to hurt you? we're clearly in a different place!"
"yeah, a place where people have lost their minds." he scoffed.
"and her dress! it was real silk and embroidered with gold! I doubt a cosplayer has enough money to pull that off, especially in this economy." you tried convincing him.
"fine. lets say we really time-traveled to the 14th century and the princess wants me to join a little duel for her hand. does that mean...
... that i'm hot by both modern and medieval standards?"
you may not like eunseok, but he is quite attractive. it's no wonder his looks attracted the affections of a princess.
"eunseok! will you take this seriously? she wants you to participate in the duel of knights for her, do you understand how dangerous that is?" you practically screamed at him.
"yeah yeah the duel of knights is a fight to the death between the most skilled swordsmen of a kingdom for the right to court noblewomen and the princess. i know it may be hard for you to believe but i passed our medieval history class y/n." he quipped.
"and you realize you will be fighting those men to the death, right?" you asked.
"sure, i'll fight a bunch of history nerds in party city costumes." he chuckled.
you grabbed him by the arm and began pulling him in the direction of the city center… or what used to be the city center and now looked like a town square.
"we really need to talk- about boundaries because you-hey! can't keep dragging me around like a ragdoll-" he struggled as you continued tugging him into the busy streets.
"i'll stop when you quit being so stubborn. i'm gonna show you just how real this is." you stormed.
by the time you reached the city you were greeted with a sign that read 'SM's southern district' in big letters and below it in a smaller font was inscribed 'taverns, traders, and shops'.
perfect.
the two of you went inside a tailor's shop since you deduced that if you were going to pretend to be people important to stay at the castle, you should dress the part.
as soon as you stepped inside, the tailor called out "good morrow strangers, thou must be travelers from far hence."
"why yes, and we were-" you started before the tailor cut you off, "is there anything I may help you with, good sir?" he ignored you for eunseok.
you forgot that as fun as the medieval period was to learn about, it was hell to live through as a woman.
trying to bite your tongue, you waited for eunseok to respond.
"yeah, can we get some fancy clothes?" he asked nonchalantly.
you sent him a glare as the shopkeeper stared at him puzzled, "I'm afraid I do not understand your way of speaking."
"what he means to ask is if we may purchase some refined garments?" you asked, clearing your throat, only for the tailor to continue to ignore you.
sighing, eunseok repeated, "may we purchase some refined garments?" the tailor's head snapped up and he grinned, "of course, good sir! for the lady as well?"
"yes." you stated through gritted teeth. no response. "yes." eunseok repeated once again, to which the tailor nodded.
as the tailor went off to find some clothing for the two of you, you turned to eunseok, "I thought you were a history buff, how do you not know how to speak to these people?" you interrogated.
"first of all, i specialize in east asian history. second, I didn't think I'd ever actually have to rely on my shakespeare lessons from high school."
the tailor came back rather quickly with suits for eunseok and a few uncomfortable-looking but beautiful dresses for you. at least they didn't wear many corsets in medieval england.
"I shall fit them to the both of your measurements and you will be able to pick them up in a few days time. services included, the charge will be 30 pounds, good sir." the man said, awaiting eagerly for eunseok to pay.
"right... one second, good sir?" eunseok hesitated awkwardly, turning to you "you don't have any money, do you?"
"my wallet should be in my pocket... shit I left it when we changed our clothes in the castle. ask him if we can pay him when we come back to grab our clothes." you urged eunseok.
"how the hell do I say that?" he panicked. "just try your best!" you whisper-shouted.
turning back to the tailor, eunseok sputtered out "may we pay... in a few day's time... perchance?"
the shopkeeper looked confused before laughing, "doth thee wish to pay at which hour you come to pick up the garments?"
eunseok nodded vigorously which was enough to communicate the message across to the tailor.
once you left the shop, eunseok breathed a sigh of relief "okay, I believe you. we time-traveled, nothing makes sense, and I'll do anything to get back to the 2020s."
"let's head back to castle, grab my wallet, and we'll figure out what to do from there. we already have a place to stay anyway." you declared.
"if you weren't... yourself, I'd find it hot how calm and collected you are about this," he admitted. you shot him an annoyed look.
"sorry I don't know how to regulate my emotions... or my thoughts... or words. we traveled back in time. we're marty and the doctor guy." eunseok began rambling.
"it's doc brown. and calm down." you grasped his shoulders. "we're going to get out of here, because i need electric plumbing and I refuse to die of syphilis. but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy our time here. you and I both love history right? well now we get to experience it ourselves!" you exclaimed.
there's that look in her eye, the one she always gets when she's talking about history. I could stare at her forever... what the hell am I thinking? it's been a long day and I should get some rest.
you noticed eunseok spacing out while looking at you so you shook his shoulders a bit which jolted him awake, "so what do you say?"
"fine. let's experience your nerdy little medieval fantasy. but, we find out how to get out of here as soon as possible in the meantime." he agreed.
as you guys made your way back to castle, you were stopped by guards in front of the moat. "who art thee and what business doth thy have at riize castle?" a guard barked.
"we were personally invited by her majesty the princess to stay at the castle until the duel of knights." you reported. you saw the guard contemplating a bit before giving the other guards the signal to let you in.
breathing a sigh of relief, you headed towards the castle doors. after a few steps you realized eunseok hadn't moved from his spot.
"what are you doing? let's go back inside!" you scolded him. he looked completely pale and visibly shaken as he started towards you, "y/n. if we're really in medieval times... does that mean I have to fight during the duel of knights?" he fretted.
"i can't die yet. i haven't gotten cross-faded yet! do they even have weed here? I told myself once I leave korea I'd try it but what if I don't even get to experience that-" he began rambling once again.
you grabbed onto his hand, similar to how you did in the plane before trying to calm him down, "you won't die, because you won't fight anybody. we'll find a way to get back to our time before then, it's in a week so we have plenty of time. and you can always just try getting out of it by asking the princess!" you assured.
"you're right!" he exclaimed, squeezing your hand and pulling you into a hug. by the time you processed what was happening, you felt butterflies in your stomach.
that can't be right. butterflies... over eunseok? maybe I'm just touch-starved.
he pulled away rather quickly though, awkwardly trying to move past you to rush into the castle gates as if it would somehow undo his action.
fuck. did I make things awkward? did I kind of like the hug? wait-why do I care? we're just classmates who time-traveled together, nothing more and nothing less.
you followed after him until you reach the room you stumbled out of a few hours prior. digging through the pile of your old clothes, you were able to find your wallet.
fortunately, you exchanged some of your dollars for pounds at the airport. unfortunately, modern-day pounds look nothing like the ones they used in the 14th century.
"I don't think he'll even take these." you sighed, waving around the colorful bills with queen elizabeth's face stamped on them.
"we'll just say it's currency from... wherever we're from." he shrugged.
"and where's that?"
"uhhhh... america?"
"europeans haven't even heard of america yet." you rolled your eyes.
"which is why it'll work perfectly, they'll think it's some secluded, far away town." eunseok reasoned.
you don't know if it was eunseok's annoying presence or the lack of sleep you've had in the last 24 hours, but you felt a migraine coming on. massaging your temples, you decided you should take a nap before you try to find a way back to the future.
"let's get some rest, we can worry about everything else later." you yawned.
"where are we gonna sleep? the princess didn't even tell us which room we'd be staying in." he remarked.
"maybe we could ask agatha." you figured, walking towards the center hall.
"stop wandering off! we could get lost, this place is huge." eunseok argued.
"we won't. I know this place like the back of my hand." you assured.
"nerd." he commented, under his breath. for the sake of your sanity, you pretended you didn't hear anything.
with all the people rushing around the castle corridors it was nearly impossible to pinpoint agatha, and you ended up walking headfirst into the chest of a tall, handsome man wearing a padded shirt, usually worn by knights underneath their armor.
the man was slightly sweaty and holding a leather-wrapped sword in his hand, he must've been a knight coming back from training.
"art thou alright, madam?" the man asked. i am now.
eunseok let out a loud cough behind you, "she's fine. let's go, y/n."
"doth thou not recognize me? perhaps the two of you are not from here." the man reasoned.
"we're travelers, from... america." you hesitated.
"america? where is that?" the man questioned.
"tis a small town up north." you stated, trying to sound as sure of yourself as possible.
"makes sense." the man nodded "what business do you have in my castle. i've never seen you around, and I reckon I would remember a face as enchanting as yours."
am i getting hit on by a hot knight? maybe staying here isn't such a bad idea after all.
"your castle?" eunseok replied.
"yes. i am the crown prince, anton. now remind me again what you're doing in my castle?" anton asked.
"the crown princess invited us, my... brother here is to compete in the duel of knights." you quickly added.
"brother? I thought you were supposed to be my mistress-" eunseok started before you cut him off.
"do you know where the princess may be? she hasn't yet told us in which room we shall be staying." you asked the prince.
"ah, forgive my sister for she is very easily overexcited. I doubt she put much thought into housing you two as guests. I'd usually turn two strangers away, but you're an exception," he stared at you intently, "i'll arrange a room for the two of you shortly. in the meantime, would you care to join my family and I for dinner? it's the least we can do as hosts for you as you've traveled so far."
"we'd love to!" you exclaimed. "wondrous! I shall see you in two hours for dinner. the maids will help you to get ready." he smiled, kissing your hand before he walked away. you felt your cheeks heating up as you waved him goodbye.
"I thought you were tired. now you wanna have dinner with the royal family?" eunseok grumbled.
"eunseok, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. eating dinner in a castle with medieval royalty! how many people can say they've done that?" you beamed.
eunseok held back a smile as you gushed about the opportunity. why is she so cute today?
in a matter of minutes, a young woman approached the two of you, ushering you into a room.
"...here is the closet, and finally, the washroom. I shall give the two of you your privacy now." the woman bowed her head before exiting quickly.
"that was a quick tour." eunseok joked. "she must be busy preparing for the duel." you figured.
"ugh, don't remind me of the duel." he dramatically collapsed on the bed. "wait... is there only one bed?"
am I being lazy and using the one bed trope? guilty!
"I'm honestly too tired to care. scooch over." you shoved him to one side of the bed as you made yourself comfortable on the other. you wouldn't usually be so bold, but you were exhausted. after nearly getting arrested and getting stuck in the 14th century, you deserved a nap.
eunseok, on the other hand, was more wide awake than ever. he didn't want to look immature and get up the second you laid down, but he was even more nervous around you right now than usual.
looking over at your figure, he was shocked to see that you had already passed out. he couldn't hold back the small smile on his lips while watching you.
what the hell am I doing? I look like a creep. he thought, snapping himself out of his daze. deciding to wash up, he headed the the bathroom.
great. a large tub, a couple of buckets, and a hole in the ground. not a single source of running water in sight.
venturing out of the room, he tried calling one of the maids rushing past for some water but everyone seemed to be preoccupied.
annoyed, eunseok decided to try finding water himself. just because y/n's annoyingly obsessed with this castle and knows how to talk like these people, doesn't mean I'm completely lost without her.
after a few minutes of wandering around the castle, eunseok was completely lost.
unknowingly, he stumbled into the throne room while the princess was in the middle of receiving a lecture from her advisors.
"you mustn't invite complete strangers into the castle. do you understand how harmful that could be?" one of the advisors warned.
eunseok tried leaving as quietly as possible but it was to no avail as the princess spotted him almost immediately.
"you! traveler! what is your name?" she chirped, jumping up and heading towards him.
fuck.
"eunseok, your highness." he shared through gritted teeth.
"what an odd name! I suppose tis because thou are from a far away land. my brother told me you were from am-amiri? amera? what ever it's called." she rambled.
"i am princess giselle, and between you and i, you're my favorite contender for the duel of knights. oh how I hope you win and earn my hand." she gushed.
"i hope so too." he responded nervously.
"the prince told me the woman you were with is your sister, did you not refer to her as your mistress earlier... sir is your sister your mistress?" the princess gasped.
"umm, no! where I'm from we use the word mistress instead of sister. silly, isn't it?" he hesitated, holding his breath as he waited for giselle's reaction.
the princess burst into laughter, "how amusing! oh please don't die during the duel so you may make me laugh for the rest of my life." she cooed.
the hairs on the back of eunseok's neck stood up. even if he manages to survive the duel, he'll have to spend the rest of his life married to a loud-mouthed princess in a castle with no electricity.
I have to find a way to get out of this time.
"if you would excuse me, I should wake up my, er, sister for dinner!" eunseok mumbled, turning to walk away.
"nonsense! I'll have a servant do so. you may have the privilege of sitting with me until then." she assured.
"well, I was actually thinking of washing up before-"
"why would you need to wash up? you look perfectly clean." the princess interjected.
eunseok was anything but perfectly clean, but then again, that was by 21st century standards. in 14th century england, even royalty only bathed about once a month.
I can't believe it's gotten to this point, but I really wish y/n were here right now.
as princess giselle kept eunseok company, you were lightly shaken awake by a familiar figure: agatha. once you finally sat up, you heard her gasp.
"aren't you the servant from earlier? what are you doing in the guest bed?!" she shrilled.
"well... we're travelers invited by the princess. besides, it was you who assumed we were servants." you tried shifting the blame.
she put a hand above her heart, "goodness! that explains your odd clothing and speech. oh I apologize deeply. how can I make up for my terrible mistake?" she begged.
you felt bad seeing how apologetic agatha looked, but you remembered there was a favor you needed. "very well, then I demand full access to the storage room in the servant chambers." you declared.
agatha sent you a puzzling look, "what's so special about the storage room, my lady?"
well for starters, it's an opportunity for me to study a room never heard of by most historians. and a way for me to figure out how we got here, and hopefully, how to get home.
"i... liked it?" you said lamely. agatha simply nodded, "anything else?" she added.
"a piece of paper and a writing instrument, please."
"for your lord?"
right. most people, especially women, were illiterate during this time.
"um... yes!" you lied, not wanting to make yourself stand out anymore.
"I shall see to it." agatha dismissed herself.
as soon as she left the room, you collapsed back onto the bed. all you needed was some quality alone time-
the door burst open again, with a flock of servants pouring in. "we must prepare you for the dinner!"
for the next thirty minutes, you were stripped, clothed, had your hair done up in an elaborate hairstyle, and exposed to powders and cosmetics you were 99% sure were toxic. you almost didn't recognize yourself in the mirror, but you had to admit the dress was flattering and you might even copy the hairstyle when you get back to your time.
as annoying as it was, it was fascinating to experience everything you've read about in books up until now. the history nerd in you couldn't help but marvel at it all.
by the time you arrived at the dining room, you were greeted with the sight of eunseok sitting next to the princess, looking mildly irritated. you spotted an open seat next to the prince directly across eunseok and decided to sit there.
shooting the boy a small smile, you sat next to anton who immediately began talking to you.
eunseok took in your appearance, staring intensely at you.
she looks stupid... with her big hair, obnoxiously red lips, long gown, perfect smile-snap out of it!
"lord eunseok, why are you staring at your sister like that?" princess giselle asked loudly, catching your attention.
you turned your head quick enough to see eunseok staring at you with a look of... admiration? impossible.
he turned tomato red and cleared his throat, "I was... wondering what we'd be eating for dinner! I'm famished."
"once mother and father arrive, we may begin eating." prince anton assured. he turned to you, "tell me about your family, lady y/n. aside from your brother here, of course."
eunseok rolled his eyes. why's he so concerned with y/n? and why is this princess on my case?
after a few minutes of you and anton conversing and eunseok stealing glances of you while giselle talked his head off, the king and queen arrived.
you immediately got up and curtseyed to them, gesturing for eunseok to bow. "your majesty, tis my pleasure to dine with you." you resounded.
"my children have told me much about you. do tell me about this 'america'" the king mused.
the rest of the dinner consisted of you and eunseok making up ridiculous facts about america and your backgrounds. occasionally, you'd send each other knowing looks and have to stifle your laughs. it was the closest the two of you got to bonding this whole trip.
by the time the dinner came to a close, anton rose up slowly. "I wish to make an announcement." once he had everyone's attention, he continued, "I have completed my knight training this year, and I have father's word that I will be able to compete in the upcoming duel of knights."
"excuse me?" the queen cried out, "it is far too dangerous. and whose hand will you be competing for? your sister's?"
"of course not. I will be competing for lady y/n's hand."
"WHAT?" you and eunseok yelled in unison. "I understand this may come as a surprise to you, my sweet y/n, but I truly feel we have developed a connection."
we met two hours ago!!!
"NO!" you screamed, resulting in horrified looks on everyone else's face, "I mean... no, your highness. I could never expect you to put your life at risk for my hand, PLEASE reconsider." you begged.
"nonsense. the last ten knights left standing win the duel, and I am sure my son is capable of coming in tenth place at the very least." the king argued.
"charles, he is but a boy-" the queen began, angrily.
"he is twenty for christ's sake! I was even younger when I competed. there will no more discussion, anton will be competing for lady y/n's hand and lord eunseok will compete for giselle's." the king settled
fuck.
fuck.
"what the hell are we going to do?" eunseok panicked once the two of you were back in your room. "if we don't leave before next week, I'm going to die fighting for a girl I don't even want and you're going to get married to that guy!"
"you care about whether or not I get married to the prince?" you teased. "what? no, I- shut up." he deflected.
"relax. I got us unlimited access to the storage closet. whatever brought us here is in there, I know it. we'll look through it tomorrow and find out how to go home." you determined.
"and if we don't?" he gulped. "then we'll figure something out." you resolved, holding onto his shoulders. "we'll be alright, we have eachother." you smiled.
you couldn't explain why you were being so nice to the man you swore you hated just yesterday, but something about the vulnerability of your situation made you desperate to hold onto the only ally you have.
eunseok's heart rate increased in response to your words and close proximity, he couldn't help but stare at your lips. "they overdid it with the lipstick." he commented, mindlessly.
"it's a mixture of berries. and I know." you giggled.
before you could say anything else, eunseok began leaning in. his lips were on yours in a matter of seconds, and it felt completely natural.
your friends always joked that the two of you were just covering up sexual tension with the whole rivalry thing, and you're embarrassed to admit you may have fantasized about kissing eunseok before, but you never in a million years thought it would actually happen.
the kiss was slow yet passionate, there was an unprecedented amount of emotion in it, you felt like you were drowning in it.
eunseok was on cloud nine, it was better than any other kiss he's ever had. his hands wandered to hold your waist tightly as yours flew to his hair.
you don't know how long the kiss has lasted so far, but you know that you never want it to end.
except it does. when the prince and princess walk in on the two of you.
as soon as you heard princess giselle scream, the two of you pulled away, but it was too late. they had seen enough.
"you people are sick! I should have known it when you said you call your sisters your mistresses!" the princess cried out.
before she could say another word, you and eunseok dragged the siblings inside and shut the door. "what the hell are we going to do now?" eunseok frantically whispered to you.
"we have to come clean." you said, which eunseok shook his head 'no' to almost immediately.
"anton, giselle, we lied to you." you confessed while eunseok stayed silent.
"I knew it! there is no america. are you thieves? or spies? who sent you?!" giselle accused.
"there is an america, and we did come from there. but we came from a different america than the one that exists today... we're from the future." you shared.
it didn't take long for both siblings to burst into laughter. "the future? do you take us for fools?" anton choked out.
"it's true! eunseok, show them your phone." you insisted. he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, causing it to illuminate.
"sorcerers!" giselle screeched.
"it's not sorcery, it's technology! it's made from various metals and allows you to communicate with people across large distances." you explained.
"sounds like sorcery to me." anton commented.
"y/n, you've spent years studying this stupid castle, don't you know anything about the residents? there has to be some information you have on the royal family that could convince them." eunseok looked to you.
"well I wasn't able to study much on these two because they both died young..." you said quietly.
"WHAT?" giselle screamed. "how dare you even suggest that?" anton stood up angrily.
"the records I read said you passed away during the duel of knights when you were 20 and that giselle was unable to take over the throne afterwards because she disappeared one night and was presumed dead... but some say she fell in love with a commoner and eloped with him." you shared.
this caused giselle to gasp loudly, "you... i... i believe them."
"how?" anton interjected, "she just said I'll die and you'll elope with a commoner. you show interest in every nobleman you come across and get over them in a matter of days. there's no way you'd fall in love with a common man and elope."
"I've been pretending to be boy-obsessed so nobody finds out that i..." giselle hesitated "i'm in love with mark."
"the stable boy?" anton cried out. "he always mentions the possibility of eloping but I never took it seriously-" she began.
"you two can sort out whatever's going on with mark later, can we go back to y/n and I time-traveling?" eunseok interrupted.
"how did you even end up here?" anton asked.
"in our time, your castle is a historical monument. eunseok and I managed to sneak in, but we were about to get caught so we hid in a storage room. when we emerged, we were transported to your time." you explained.
it took the siblings a while to process your story, but they agreed to help the two of you find a way to get back to your time. once everything was settled, anton asked to speak to you privately--which eunseok did not like.
"I'm sorry for lying, anton, I was just trying to avoid getting in trouble." you apologized, breaking the awkward silence.
"I understand. I've been meaning to ask about you and eunseok. are the two of you...?" he began.
"I don't know what we are. this whole day has been confusing for the both of us." you answered honestly.
"right." he replied, sadly. "well, I wanted to ask you specifically about my death. does the future really say I die in the upcoming duel?"
"i'm sorry anton... i know how excited you are for it."
"excited? i'm dreading it." he chuckled dryly. "i've only ever shown interest in being a knight because of my father. he was a knight back in his day, that's how he courted my mother and became king."
"wait, so you don't want to compete in the duel?" you queried.
"absolutely not! I'm terrified. I've always wanted to be a writer, but my father told me I have no time for silly dreams like that. I'm the heir to the throne, after all."
I feel horrible, most of the documents i read mentioned anton as an eager knight-in-training, but I guess history books aren't always accurate.
you grabbed anton by the hand and began taking him back to where eunseok and giselle were.
"so you really don't think I'm handsome?" you overheard eunseok asking giselle. "you're okay-looking... but I just needed a cover-up for my late-night rendezvous with mark." she shrugged as eunseok's face fell.
"eunseok. giselle. we need to do something before we go back in time." you announced.
"and what's that?" eunseok responded.
"we're getting anton out of the duel of knights." you declared.
"but how? father is adamant on him competing." giselle protested, "and I doubt he'll believe your time-traveling story."
"we'll just have to figure out a way." you said stubbornly.
although eunseok and giselle seemed uneasy, anton sent you a grateful look which was enough.
the next few days were spent with you and eunseok exploring the storage room and you writing down as much as you could about the contents of the room as well as the royal family.
eunseok agreed to help giselle meet with mark in secret and you agreed to help anton with his writing. in return, the siblings helped you look through the castle library on anything related to time-travel.
to avoid the awkwardness of sleeping in the same bed with eunseok after the kiss, anton offered up his room and slept with him instead.
there was now four days left until the duel, and you still had no idea how to get back or take anton out of the competition. anton and eunseok seemed to get a lot closer though, either through sharing a room or the mutual dread of having to fight to the death in a few days time.
"y/n, can I speak with you. it won't take up much time." giselle asked you. "of course, what's up?" you responded.
"what's up?" she repeated, "what is the matter." you corrected yourself. you and eunseok let down your guard when it came to speaking in old english since the siblings already knew your secret anyway.
"you said in the future, I disappear. mark keeps asking to elope, especially with the duel of knights approaching as many men will be aiming for my hand." she worried, "I'm scared, y/n. I don't wish to leave but I don't wish to lose my beloved either. what do I do?"
you honestly had no idea. maybe it was a bad idea telling them their fates, but if i can try helping them avoid it, I should.
"I think you should try telling your parents. how bad could it be?" you said, stupidly.
"are you serious? they would murder him and i for even suggesting it. royals and commoners don't belong together, of course you wouldn't understand." she stormed.
"okay, okay I'm sorry. I really don't understand. I'm used to modern royalty, where the prince of england married an actress and left the royal family, then got to go on oprah." giselle shot you a confused look, "but if you never try, you'll never know."
"i suppose you're right. but I'm far too terrified of my parents." she sighed. before you could respond, eunseok called out to you, ushering you and giselle to join him and anton.
"we found a way to get out of the duel!" he shared excitedly.
"and how is that?" giselle asked, unconvinced.
"knights are covered head-to-toe in armor, right? we'll just pay two knights to replace us! anton said he's got the money covered."
"yes, I have the money covered, as they say in future america." anton added enthusiastically.
"and you've already found these knights?" you asked, "how do you know they won't tell the king?"
"we did, and anton made them swear because they are under an oath to serve him." eunseok shared proudly.
"don't you think that's a bit wrong, abusing your power? and what's gonna happen at the end of the duel when you have to take your helmets off?" you badgered.
"will you stop being such a baby, y/n? we'll tell them to keep their helmets on, and both you and giselle will be there anyways so you can cover for us." he argued.
"well i'm sorry that I want to make sure your little plan is foolproof so you don't, y'know, die." you fumed.
and just like that, the two of you began arguing again. giselle and anton gave each other a worried look before rushing out of the room, leaving the two of you yelling at each other.
"you're getting a bit too comfortable here, don't you think?" you scoffed.
"comfortable?! you think I want to spend the rest of my life in the 14th fucking century?" eunseok retorted.
"well you've barely been any help in looking for a way back. i've been the only one searching that stupid room for any traces of how we got here!"
"maybe because we've been searching that room for four days and haven't found anything. excuse me for trying to make sure I don't die before I find a way to travel back, if there even is a way."
you stepped closer to him, still seething "you piss me off to no end, song eunseok. you're the last person I wish I was trapped with in this stupid century!"
"do you really think you're my perfect idea of a travel buddy? my life is a mess, all thanks to you!" he snapped.
"I didn't ask you to follow me like a crazed stalker, did I? so why did you?"
eunseok finally went quiet. it seems like he didn't really know the answer either.
you were irritated, but you didn't want to keep arguing, so you decided to walk away before he started up again, "I'm going to town to pick up our clothes from the tailor."
up until now you've been wearing the servant clothes agatha brought you to bed and borrowing the royal sibling's clothes during the day. it'll be nice to finally have our own sets of clothing.
you tried to organize your thoughts but you were still thinking of eunseok. it's not like you haven't argued with him before, but they've never been so... personal.
it pained you to say but his words hurt you. you don't know when you started caring about what eunseok has to say but some time along the last four days you've been trapped here, you started to feel more strongly about him.
and you definitely can't forget about the kiss. you can't believe the two of you just acted completely normal after that. you were too scared to bring it up and so was eunseok.
he's so confusing. one day we're making out and the next we're screaming at each other... and it doesn't help that I can't read him at all.
by the time you were done reflecting on your entire relationship with eunseok, you reached the tailor's shop. walking in, you greeted one of the workers there before informing them of your prior visit.
as the worker brought out your clothes, he held his hand out waiting for the payment.
shit. I didn't bring any money. and it's not like the money I had would've done much anyway.
"I-um, I don't think I can give you the payment just yet," you stuttered, nervous.
"why not?" the worker asked, already putting the clothing back.
"because-"
"because i'll be paying." you heard a familiar voice ring from behind you. what is he doing here?
eunseok walked past you and handed over the old-timey pounds to the worker, taking the sets from him in the process.
once the transaction was finished he walked past you and out of the shop, completely ignoring you. confused, you caught up to him.
"did you seriously follow me again? what's your problem?!" you exploded on the street, catching the attention of nearby townsfolk.
"I saw that you left your wallet and didn't even bother asking for money from the prince or princess. you're welcome for saving you the embarrassment and a trip back-and-forth from the castle." he retorted, stopping to turn to you.
"I don't want to argue. not right now, and not in public." he sighed "good. because neither do i." you sassed, walking past him deeper into the district center.
he rolled his eyes and continued after you, "where are you going?"
"does it matter? or were you planning on stalking me again." you retaliated.
i should just leave her alone if she's going to be so difficult... but this place is sketchy and confusing, and it's getting dark.
"I don't think it's safe to walk around alone here, it's almost sunset." he called out.
"I'm a grown woman, I can handle myself." you refused.
"fine." eunseok said, turning to walk back to the castle.
you spent the next two hours making a mental map of the district, excited to write all about it later. you had to admit this was a much more fun way to learn about history than sitting around with a textbook and reading all day.
unfortunately for you, there weren't any clocks around, so it was easier to lose track of time. you figured it must be around 9 p.m. and decided to head back to the castle.
after about 15 minutes of wandering the streets, you realized you were lost.
fuck. I can't believe I'm about to prove eunseok right. whatever, he's probably living it up at the castle, especially since I'm not there.
on the contrary, eunseok was worried sick. "what if she was kidnapped, or fell down a well or something?" he ranted to anton.
"we shall find her, there's no need to worry." anton assured as they headed out the castle gate.
as the two of them began walking, eunseok couldn't help but overthink.
I shouldn't have let her walk away. and I can't believe the last conversation we had was an argument. what if something bad happened to her? how will I forgive myself?
eunseok doesn't know when or how he became so worried about you, but what he did know was his heart was pounding just thinking about you.
"what... relationship do you and y/n share?" anton inquired as they walked. "we're just school peers." eunseok answered coldly.
anton laughed in response, “peers do not thrust their tongues into each other's mouths."
eunseok's ears turned red upon hearing the younger boy's comment.
"they also wouldn't worry as much as you are right now." anton added.
"she's my ticket back to the 21st century, of course I'm on edge. I need her help finding the way home." eunseok shrugged.
"whatever you say." anton smiled.
"are you into her or something?" eunseok asked, trying to sound casual.
"pardon me?"
"do you wish to wed her?" eunseok sighed. I'm definitely not gonna miss these shakespearean conversations.
"well... she is strikingly beautiful... and strong, and intelligent, and-"
"okay I get it." eunseok cut him off, erupting another laugh in anton.
"but she seems to only have eyes for you. besides, I'm a bit more preoccupied with the duel as of now." anton commented carelessly.
she has eyes for me? eunseok thought to himself again and again until they reached a nearby tavern.
it was then that the pair spotted your figure arguing with a clearly drunken man. before he knew it, eunseok rushed to your side to defend you from the man until he heard your conversation.
"you've gone mad if you think euripides is anywhere close to sophocles!" you yelled.
"you're the mad one, sophocles couldn't have written medea but euripides could have easily written oedipus rex in his sleep!" the man yelled back.
of course she's arguing over history. what a nerd.
"pardon us sir." eunseok interjected, dragging you away by the arm.
"hey! I wasn't finished. and stop dragging me." you ripped your arm away. "now you know how I feel." eunseok scoffed.
"y/n! are you alright?" anton asked. "yes, I'm fine. and I was just about to make my way back to the castle." you asserted.
"point in the direction of the castle." eunseok challenged. you pointed in a random direction hoping it would be somewhat close.
"you were going to head north, further into the town when the castle is down south." eunseok smirked.
if he didn't look so good right now I'd smack that smirk right off his face.
the walk back to the castle was dead silent, with poor anton making the occasional comment trying to spur conversation, but you and eunseok weren't having it.
when you finally reached the castle, anton excused himself leaving you and eunseok alone.
sighing, eunseok broke the silence first, "I was worried about you."
you whipped your head up. did i hear that right?
"I don't hate you. I hope you know that." he went on.
"I don't hate you either." you added. for the first time in a long time you looked at him in the eye.
the tension was palpable, but before you could act on any of your emotions, eunseok turned away. "goodnight, y/n." he walked off.
ouch. I know I said I wanted him to leave me alone, but not like this.
time passed by until it was the morning of the duel. you and eunseok had been growing even more desperate to find a way back home, and giselle and anton were getting even more nervous about the duel approaching.
eunseok had remained distant since that night, and although you hadn't argued since then, you also haven't really spoken much.
you missed him, but you had more important things to focus on.
as the knights began suiting up, you and giselle headed to your seats at the top of the arena. the arena was full of thousands of people, ranging from commoners to nobles.
if everything went to plan, the knights pretending to be anton and eunseok would win the duel, one of them would pretend to be injured and the other would carry them off into the stables where they would switch places with the real eunseok and anton.
of course, nothing ever goes according to plan. 'eunseok' was slain within the first ten minutes.
despite you having no connection to them, it hurt you to see young men lose their lives for a tradition meant to please the rich and powerful. and it hurt even more knowing that this tradition would continue for a few more centuries.
however, not everyone else shared your sympathies, as the majority of the crowd cheered excitedly with each kill. that was... until 'anton' was slain an hour in.
the entire arena went silent and the king jumped out of his seat, "stop the tournament! stop it now!"
oh shit.
the king ran down to check on his 'son' only to reveal a complete stranger under the helmet. still teary-eyed, the king roared "what is the meaning of this?"
we're screwed. we're so so screwed.
just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, the real eunseok and anton entered the arena, assuming the silence meant it was over.
"son! what have you done? answer me, boy!" the king seethed. "i... i don't wish to be a knight." anton confessed, eliciting gasps from the crowd.
"what on earth has gotten into you? is it that boy next to you influencing you?"
"no! I never wanted it. you know I've always wanted to pursue writing-"
"nonsense. you are to be a king. and a king is to be able to fight for his people. will words on paper solve wars? no. only a sword will protect your throne."
dejected, anton nodded before eunseok interrupted, "weren't you just crying over your son's death?"
another round of gasps travelled through the arena. "how dare you speak to me that way? I should have your head cut off!"
"all I'm saying is, if anton listened to you and fought, he'd be dead right now. is forcing him into combat worth losing your son?" eunseok reasoned.
the king faltered for a moment before recovering, "he is not enough of a man to look me in the eye and you want me to let him pursue his childish fantasies?"
in that moment, anton snapped, raising his head, "if I am to be heir to the throne than you will treat me as such. my whole life I've done what you wanted me to do, and look how that would have ended," he paused, pointing at the corpse on the floor.
"father, i assure you I am grown enough to discern what I want and don't want. and what I don't want is a life of a knight. I am not an extension of you, I am my own person, and most importantly, I am a writer." anton concluded.
the crowd erupted into cheers at the prince's heroic delivery until giselle ran down, seemingly inspired.
oh no.
"and I am in love with a stable-boy!" she declared loudly.
just like that, the arena was dead silent again and the king went red with anger.
"this is all your fault!" he pointed at eunseok "you, and that sister-mistress of yours!"
the crowd began murmuring, confused.
"guards, execute them!" he declared.
now you were definitely screwed.
you saw eunseok running out the back as giselle and anton held their father back. panicking, you ran through the back of the arena, meeting up with eunseok.
"what the hell are we going to do?" he panted. you grabbed onto his hand and began running into the castle. you're not sure why, but your gut was telling you to head to the storage room.
once you reached the room, eunseok whispered "won't this be the first place they'll look for us?"
" just hurry up and light the candle, I have to grab my papers." you rushed. he found a set of matches and lit the candle as you frantically searched for all your research.
you heard voices gathering around the outside of the door.
"y/n. if we really do die, I need to tell you something." eunseok began dramatically.
"I love-"
he was interrupted by a banging noise on the door. you quickly blew the candle out, hoping the darkness would somehow make the two of you invisible.
but it was too late, the door flew open, and a man came down the stairs holding a... flashlight?
"stop there! london police, you are under arrest for trespassing."
"what?" you muttered, confused.
"oh my-OH MY GOD. we're back... we're back! what year is it?" eunseok asked the officer desperately.
"are you two on some sort of narcotics?" the officer asked.
the two of you were then escorted to the police station where your group supervisor had to bail you out. you and eunseok were grinning ear-to-ear the entire time.
you were informed that you couldn't go on the tour as a result of your trespassing and you couldn't care less. "I know how much you were looking forward to it, are you sure you'll be okay?" your friend asked, worried.
"I'll be fine! go enjoy it for me." you assured. I'm sick of that damn castle anyway.
after taking a long, warm bath, you settled onto the hotel couch before hearing a knock on your door.
opening it, you were greeted with the sight of an awkward eunseok.
"hey... can I come in?" he asked, nervous. "yeah." you smiled.
"I'm still trying to convince myself that was all real." he chuckled.
"me too." you breathed "but at least it's all behind us."
"yeah, thank goodness." he agreed.
"what was it you were saying before we got arrested?" you asked innocently.
"um- I was saying, i... wonder whatever happened to giselle and anton! surely there's some more information on them now that anton survived the duel." he changed the topic.
"you're right!" you exclaimed, rushing to your computer to google their names.
"it says here that the king passed away from a heart attack due to shock and anton inherited the throne, but he didn't want it so he passed it onto giselle. he went on to become a successful writer and giselle married a common man named mark, they had a son and a daughter named... eunseok and y/n!"
"you think they're sister-mistresses?" eunseok joked.
"gross. anyways, anton's most famous book is called across centuries and it's about a pair of lovers that time traveled." you gasped.
"well that definitely can't be about us, we're far from lovers." he laughed.
"right..." you agreed quietly.
"well, I guess that now that we're out of the medieval period, I can get out of your hair." eunseok began, standing up.
"wait." you spoke up suddenly. if giselle and anton could confess in front of an entire kingdom, than i can confess to a single guy.
"eunseok, i..." you began.
fuck. I can't bring myself to finish my sentence.
"you what?" he asked.
"I'm..."
"are you alright?"
"no! yes-i mean no?" you sputtered.
"i'm gonna go let you rest." he nodded, slowly backing away.
"I love you! I'm in love with you. please-please don't leave yet." you practically begged.
eunseok's jaw fell to the floor.
"I don't know how or when I started feeling this way, and I get it if you don't feel the same way but I had to tell you. I'm-"
you were interrupted by eunseok's lips crashing onto yours, and for once you didn't mind the interruption.
"will you be mine, lady y/n?" he asked dramatically, shortly after you two parted from the kiss.
"why yes, my knight in shining armor." you laughed.
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milkywaydrabbles · 1 year ago
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kinktober 25 with rindou!!! 🔛🔝 kanto manji uniform
A/N: Honestly Rindou in uniform brain go brr. I am a firm believer that 18/19 year old Rindou is an obnoxious show off, fluffing his feathers up whenever he can. Cocky little shit in this fic and I'm into it. I hope you like it!! Mwuah!!
Uniform x Haitani Rindou
Your head was pounding. The bright light of your computer making you miserable--you’ve been trying to study the same material for the last three hours, and you were growing tired of trying. You thought if you kept looking at the screen your head would combust. It was time to take a break. Stretching your arms over your head, you felt all the joints release a crack that had you groaning. Looking around you realized you were the only one left in the library of your university. At least in your general area. Looking down at your phone you realized not only was it well into the evening but you had three missed phonecalls from your boyfriend. ‘Shit’. You gathered your things as quickly as you could into your bag and slung it over your shoulder before giving him a call back. It only rung once. 
‘Jesus Christ would it kill you to pick up the phone?’ He sounded annoyed but you knew better than to think it wasn’t him just masking it to not show how worried he really was about you. ‘Thought I was gonna have to fuck some people up to find you’ You rolled your eyes, smiling as he spoke. Always so dramatic.
“Sorry, Rin, I was in the library and I lost track of time. I have that big test coming up you know? Just want to be prepared.” You sighed, thinking that when you got back to your dorm you should try studying some more, even if it’s another part of the curriculum. There was never enough time to digest all the information your shitty ass professors wanted you to learn but somehow you needed to figure it out. ‘You’re stressing yourself out too much, just relax babe.’  You snorted on the line, biting your tongue. As if the amount of times your gang affiliated boyfriend knocking on your student housing apartment covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his didn’t stress you out. “Yeah yeah, I’m heading home now though, stay on the phone with me?” ‘ Of course, baby.’
-
You’d gotten off the phone with Rindou a few minutes before getting to your door, saying he needed to finish a few loose ends before giving you a call again. So imagine your surprise when you walk into your one bedroom with none other than Rindou already inside. “Jesus!” You gasped, holding onto your chest like your heart was going to pop out. “You can’t just!....” your scolding trailed off, eyes scanning the new clothing on him. Rindou smirked, uncrossing his legs from your couch and leaning back, arms splayed behind the couch. “Whatcha lookin’ at, pretty girl?” You shook your head, trying to pull yourself out of a daze and dumping your bag at the door, along with your shoes. “What are you wearing, Rin? I’ve never seen that.” You mumbled, making your way over to him and sitting with your legs up to your chest next to him on the sofa. 
“We got new uniforms. You like ‘em?” 
Like was the understatement of the century. You loved it. It looked so clean, white made him look real cleaned up. Plus, even if you hated it (not really, you lair) seeing bright blood splatters on the crisp linen would be bad ass (as long as it’s not his!) But you had to play it cool, so you nodded, casually picking at your nails. He knew you better than that. Rindou patted his thigh with a grin, “come here, pretty. You’re too far.” he couldn’t help but coo when he saw how you scrambled from your corner onto his lap, hands running across his shoulders and thumbing the lapels. “It’s nice, Rinnie..” you whispered, feeling the embroidery on the sides of the sleeves. Your head was in turmoil: the new uniform was definitely doing it for you, trying your best to contain your horny little brain. “You look...good, in white.”  He let you keep tracing the fabric, seeing your pupils dilate and your mouth part. It was kind of hot, seeing how horny you were getting just by seeing him in uniform. Maybe he’d have to stop by after meetings more often. 
“What are you thinking, baby?” Rindou grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him with flushed cheeks. “Nothing!” Your voice cracked, clearing your throat before trying again. “Nothing.” He hummed, peering over his glasses. “You wanna fuck?” “Rin!” He couldn’t help but laugh, at how sweet you were for him, really. How he landed you and had you stick around he’ll never know. “Come on baby, lemme fuck the stress outta you. Missed you today.” He mumbled against your skin, kissing your jaw, trailing down your neck, pulling at your shirt to expose a shoulder and bite at the juncture that met your throat. You gasped, holding on tightly at the lapels of the jacket and bucking your hips onto him. “Missed you too, Rindou...” a hand made its way to his long locks, scratching at his scalp while he continued to give you attention. His hands made their way to your chest, grabbing and groping at your tits. “Strip for me, baby.” His voice held authority, your skin feeling like it was on fire. You nodded, getting up from his lap to practically rip your clothes off of you. “Does my pretty baby like my uniform?” He teased, cupping your ass when you stood between his legs. “Mhm” You nodded, moving to sit back on his lap but he stopped you with a hand. “Why don’t you suck me off, pretty girl?” felt much less like a question and more like a demand, one you couldn’t say no to. You knelt between his legs, shaky hands unbuckling his belt and zipping down the pants--pulling out his hardened cock from its confines. He spread his legs wide, making himself bigger. One hand smoothed down your hair while the other lay behind the couch. “Go ahead baby, show me how much you like my uniform.”
Your lips were on him in an instant. Pressing wet sloppy kisses on his head and shaft, tongueing his cock. He held his hand on your head, not moving you but keeping pressure. He lifted his hips slightly when you moved to take him in your mouth, pressing his cock into your cheek and seeing it bulge. “Fuck, baby, look so good taking my big dick.” your lashes fluttered at the praise, slurping his cock into your mouth. You were messy, drooling already with spit bubbling at the sides of your mouth. Rindou moaned above you, throwing his head back in pleasure when he saw just how nasty you were sucking him off. “Didn’t know this would do it for you” he laughed, taking your hair in his hand like a makeshift ponytail. “Wanna come see me fight like this? In my uniform? I’d win, and fuck you right after.” Your pussy clenched around nothing, pushing yourself to take more of him. You looked at him through teary lashes, nose touching his pubes as you gurgled around him. “Fuck! Just like that, slutty baby, keep going.” You whimpered around his cock, taking him just how he wanted it. You’d do whatever he asked when he was dressed like this, mind completely turning into mush. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, flicking your wrist and jerking him as you suckled on his tip, laving your tongue over the slit. Rindou hissed, pulling your hair to tip your head back, his own hand taking over for yours and jerking his cock. “Open your mouth, baby, gonna shoot my load over your face.” He panted, taking a mental picture of you sitting so pretty with your hazy eyes unfocused and tongue lolling out, waiting patiently for his cum. He moaned, bucking his hips as he shot sticky ropes of cum on your tongue and face, dripping from your forehead to your cheeks, smearing what was left on his tip on your tongue, giving it a few smacks before leaning back and letting go of your hair.
“Fuck babythat was so hot.” He exhaled deep, hoisting you up from your knees back onto the couch. His fingers rubbed at your pussy, that had been dripping onto your floor. He grinned wicked, pressing his already hardening cock between your pussy lips.
“Now I’m gonna fuck you with it on, okay baby?”
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walkingzombiegirl · 4 months ago
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how about some sexually frustrated banter with hange, the only other titan scientist behind the walls who you're always competing with when it comes to your research?
or flirty ellie who always gets on your nerves but in reality she's just a big loser and a science geek and that actually makes her kinda hot...
oorrrr knight abby who is devoted to your protection and the kingdom's so that is why she has put up with that bratty attitude until one day she finally snaps and calls you a brat and suddenly you're all flustered and that was almost all it took to have you spread out beneath her with her head lost between your legs. she could stay there for hours and be satisfied with just that .
anyway i have a huge thing for enemies to lovers and banter idk what's wrong with me 😭😭
━ 𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡
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𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - ellie williams x fem!reader
𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 - Ellie and you are opposites, causing a bit of bickering that never seems to end. But when she has to go to her room before Dina gets back to find her wallet, she drags you along. However, it takes a more fun turn that you would've ever thought possible. Especially since you fucking hate her.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - cursing, bitchy!reader, flirting, slight alludes to previous sexual encounter between them, alludes to having sex at the end, scandalous figurine
𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘀 - sorry i disappeared if you couldn't tell by how badly this was written i haven't been feeling the best and been stressed about college! Also I am planning on writing the other two... slow roll.
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"Did you buy all of these?" You asked glancing around her decked out room, in awe at how many figurines she had around the place. Practically stacked full, wall to wall was gaming posters, ones of various rock bands, some shows and cartoons you didn't recognize. Between those was shelves of comic books, and an overly messy deck scattered with work and drawings she quickly covered up.
"Yeah, that's how shopping works."
You glared at her, looking around at the room some more before spotting another shelf that had more little people. You smiled, picking up a lady that was wearing a rather scandalous outfit.
You nearly let a laugh escape, twirling her around in your fingers, her dress the same color as your nails. At that, it was promptly snatched from your fingers. A scoff falling from your lips.
"What? I was just looking." But when your eyes met her freckled face you noticed a light coat of pink dusted her cheeks. Her eyes rocketing around the room like she'd been told there was someone ready to kill her inside. "Don't touch anything." "Alright, alright." You huffed, putting your hands up in faux submission.
"Can I at least sit somewhere while I wait for you to do whatever the fuck you dragged me in here to do?" You asked, Ellie immediatley giving a glare and then pointing at the mattress with a tight face. The little hot lady still in her hand.
You couldn't help yourself, you peered at her, squinting to see past her fingers. Once she realized, however, the little lady hurriedly went flying over her shoulder and knocked against the desk.
"Hey!" You plopped down on the bed, the springs squeaking under your weight. "I just wanted to see her." "It's none of your business just wait a minute for me."
You didn't respond, instead watching her ruffle around in the top drawer of her dresser. But you couldn't help yourself, you turned around to look at the photo board you seen when you walked in, all of Dina, Jesse, and others like Abby and Nora.
Boring... until, wait?
"Is that me?" You then broke the silence, scooting up the bed to see a photo of you and Dina on the beach from last summer. You were both grinning at the camera and holding up beers. "That's from the night we-" "Yes."
You peered back to her, green irises staring into your soul as you met her eyes.
"You're a freak." "You look hot in that picture." By the look on her face you were probably number three in the amount of total girls she'd said that to. To their faces anyway. "You are such a nerd." You whispered, staring at her with an almost freakishly large grin on your face.
"You are a bitch." She then replied, her expression mirroring your own. "Says the perv with a picture of me on your wall in a bikini. Creep." "Says little miss 'let me see your doll's tits, Ellie'." She spoke, but didn't seem annoyed, instead, almost intrigued as you responded, "You own the doll!"
"Not for those reasons!" She spat, laughing halfway through the sentence. "Are you sure you don't fuck the doll, Ellie?" "You wish I did, it'd be the closest you've gotten to me in months." You sneered at that, biting your lip.
"You're so full of yourself." Ellie rolled her eyes. "Whatever." "Whatever? God you irritate the fuck out of me." You exclaimed, running your hands down your face with a groan. "You're in my room." "You told me to just to go with you."
There was a pregnant pause before,
"Please tell me you jack to the photo." "No!" She stared at you, making a face. "No." "You do!" "So what you're not horrible to look at." You smirked up at her, shaking your head. "Perv." You hummed, her face inching closer to yours, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips before back up again.
"Whatever."
"Nuh uh, you don't get to do that." You said and reached forward grabbing her buckle, pulling her in. "You fucking freak." She just rolled her eyes, looking back at her bedroom door.
There was a silence that felt thick compared to the conversation just had, her head rolling back to face you.
"How long until Dina gets back?" She asked, eyes practically gouging into yours. Her stare had you squirming already.
"Long enough."
She nodded, looking again before at the alarm clock beside her bed.
"Do you-"
"Yes Ellie. Yes."
"Okay."
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awkward ellie is more canon then sex god ellie and i stand by that
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bbrissonn · 7 months ago
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𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
in which you lay alone in your bed at night wondering where your relationship with the young star went wrong
disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting 
HUGH DISCLAIMER: this fic doesnt have a clear ending. i literally have no motivation to continue this, but i cannot find it in myself to start my next work for this album until this one is out. so yeah, sorry about that :)
warnings: angst, swearing , not proofread  
pairing: jack hughes x reader
wc: 2.6k (including lyrics)
guts masterlist
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Cat got my tongue
And I don’t think I get along with anyone
Blood runnin’ cold
I’m on the outside of the greatest inside joke
And I hate all my clothes
Feels like my skin doesn’t fit right over my bones
So I guess I should go
The party’s done, and I’m no fun, I know, I know
I know, I know
Ever since you had moved to New York in early 2022, it felt like it had been living a lie. Like this life you were living wasn’t yours, like you had just stolen it from someone. Growing up, you had always been homeschooled, meaning your social life was slime to none. So, it was safe to say that when you chose to move to New York for a job your mom’s friend had offered you, you were scared. 
You only had two real friends, who you barely ever saw because of their busy scheduled with school before, and even more now since you three were all over the country doing your own things. Luckily for you, there was a girl only 2-3 years older than you at your job, meaning you had someone to talk to if you felt the need. After a month of two, the two of you became friends, growing ever closer when you realized you lived in apartment blocks next to each other. 
Which is how you found yourself at a bar on a saturday night in October of that year. Mailey had convinced you to come with her, claiming the two of you needed to decompress from your busy week at work. You rolled your eyes at first, but agreed none the less. Ever since this summer, you found yourself starting to go out more, joining Mailey and her friends every once in a while. Only this time was so much different than the others. 
There was a big group of maybe 20ish guys, age ranging from young adults to full grown men, taking up most of the place. The two of you were confused, seeing as this bar barely ever had people coming in, and it was mainly the same people coming here every week. So, a group of random guys neither of them had seen around before certainly peeked your interest. 
“What do you think they’re doing here?” You asked as the two of you sat down at your usual spot. The group occupying the opposite side of the room. 
“Don’t know. But they’re not buying that cheap booze.” Mailey mumbled, her eyes focused on the insane amount of liquor at the couple of tables they were occupying. The two of you eventually started forgetting about them, talking about random things that happened throughout the week. 
“Not to freak you out, but there’s a guy that keeps looking at you. A cute guy.” The girl across from you said after about an hour of the two of you being there. You furred your brows slightly at her words, before turning your head in their direction. That’s when you met his eyes for the first time. He had a slight grin on his face as he stared into your eyes, nodding along to whatever the guy next to him was saying. You sent him a small smile, waving slightly, which he answered with a nod. 
“More like hot guy.” You mumbled, looking back over at your best friend. You had had a couple of flings here and there, but nothing ever serious, and you were never used to getting boys’ attention on a night out. 
“He’s going to the bar. Go talk to him.” Mailey announced, making you turn your head to look at him. At the same time, he looked over at your table, sending you a small wink when your eyes met. 
“Rich coming from someone who always says girls don’t chase, they attract.” You teased, making her roll her eyes. You eventually decided to go up to him later that night, talking for a bit before exchanging numbers. Jack, you learned his name was, didn’t seem to want to get into talking about his group of friend too much, so you kept all your questions to yourself. 
Over the next couple of weeks, the two of you got to know each other. Your friendship slowly formed and the two of you grew closer each other. But, clearly Jack was still holding back on some stuff. He still refused to open up about his friends and what he does as a living exactly. You told yourself that he’d tell you when he was ready, but you were getting a little impatient, which is why you pretty much forced the answer out of him when you went over to his apartment one day. 
“When are you gonna tell me?” You asked, pausing the show the two of you were watching. Your words made him look over at you, a confused expression on his face as his eyes met yours. 
“What do you mean?” 
“When are you gonna tell me truth, Jack. If that’s even your name.” You sassed, making the boy next to you let out a deep sigh as he threw his head back. 
“D’you wanna see my birth certificate?” He answered coldly, making you scoff. “What I do doesn’t matter, Y/N, so just drop it.” 
“If it doesn’t matter than why won’t you tell me, Jack? You know pretty much everything about me and my life, and barely know anything from yours. God, you won’t even tell me the names of your brothers!” 
“Why do you care so much?” 
“Because I like you, Jack! And… and I though you liked me back, but clearly I was wrong.” You admitted, standing up from your spot on the couch as you started packing up your things. “Just forget it.” You mumbled as you started making your way to the door. You were stopped right as you were about to grab onto the doornob. 
“Y/N, wait!” He said, grabbing your wrist and turning you around before you could leave. “I like you too, Y/N, and I’m sorry I haven’t been honest with you, but I didn’t want what I do in life to influence how you see me. I’ve had way too many people use me and I didn’t want that to happen again because I really like you.” 
“Jack, I made it clear hundreds of that time that I what you do in life wouldn’t change the way I see you, but you kept hiding from me. It makes me feel like you don’t trust me.” You explained with a scoff. The boy in front of you sighed before cupping your face in his head, his forehead leaning against yours. 
“I know, I know, I should’ve told you a long time ago. But what we have, it’s really special to me, and it’s so good. I didn’t want to ruin it.” 
“You’d have to be a serial killer for me to change my mind about how I feel, Jack.” 
“Stay. Please. I’ll tell you everything, I promise, just don’t leave me, please.” He begged, his thumbs rubbing small circles under your eyes. You swallowed harshly before slightly nodding your head yes. Jack then brough the two of you back to his couch, and he stuck to his promise. He started going on and on about his life, starting with the fact that he played hockey for the Devils. Then he moved on to telling you pretty much every single memory he had about the sport, a wide grin plastered on his face. 
In exchange, you opened up to him about some of the insecurities you had because you were homeschooled, including having to attened big parties and being surrounded by large crowds. Jack had promised that was something he would never put your through, but you quickly learned that his promise meant nothing to him. 
I broke a glass, I tripped and fell
I told secrets I shouldn’t tell
I stumbled over all my words
I made it weird, I made it worse
Each time I step outside, it’s social suicide
It’s social suicide, wanna curl up and die
It’s social suicide
It had now been three months since Jack asked you out. You had met his brother Luke when the boy came to visit, talked to his parents through face time a while ago, but you had yet to met his friends. You tried hard not to let it bother you, but it did. He didn’t want you attending his games either, claiming he didn’t want people to hate on you because you were his girlfriend. You couldn’t help but overthink the fact that maybe it was just because you were his girlfriend.
You had seen pictures of the other players wives and girlfriends, and you looked nothing like them. They all seemed so outgoing and the life of the party. Not to mention all of the models Jack followed, all of them being the exact opposite of you. You had questioned him about it one night, he just scoffed and said you were being petty and pathetic asking him a question like that. 
“J?” You called out. His arms were wrapped around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. 
“Mm?”
“When am I gonna meet your friends?” You asked quietly, making the boy sigh harshly against the back of your neck. 
“Got to sleep, Y/N.” He mumbled. 
“Could you at least answer me?” 
“I don’t know, okay? Your weird fear of crowds or whatever makes it impossible for you to meet them all at the same time, and I’m not gonna go through the burden of setting up little dates with my teammates just so you can meet them. Can I sleep now, mother?” He answered harshly as his arms left your frame and he turned around, his back to yours. You felt tears prikle in your eyes at his words. 
“I can handle it.” Your voice was low, not trusting your voice not to crack if you talked any louder. Jack let yet another sigh at your words. 
“We’re getting together after the game tomorrow, come if you want.” 
“To your game?” You asked hopeful. You were growing tired of just watching him play through your TV screen, when he was close to your home. 
“No. After.” And just like that, all your hope was crushed. 
“What should I wear?” 
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” He grumbled, getting out of bed making your head snap towards him as he approached the door. 
“Where are you going?” 
“Guest room. I need peace and you keep talking.” Was the last thing he said before leaving the room. When you woke up the next morning, he was gone, no text no notes, nothing. He didn’t come back for his pregame nap either, which scared you a little. But all your nerves went away when his face appeared on your Instagram feed, a bright smile on his face as the picture the Devils posted illuminated your screen. 
All of your texts to Jack had gone unanswered, as well as your calls. Thankfully, you knew where the team would be heading after the game, it was a local bar near the rink they went to almost every time after a game. You had gotten there a lot later than everyone, spending thirty minutes in your car deciding whether or not Jack would still want you there. You figured there was only one way to find out so in you went. 
The place was crowded, the music loud as the bartenders prepared multiple drinks. Realistically, there wasn’t that many people here, just the team and a couple other regulars, it was just a really small room. It took you a couple of minutes to spot Jack, who was sitting at a table with a couple of his friends and lots of girls. You tried to look as confident as possible as you made your way over to him. Some of his friends and their partners started at you, wondering what someone like you was doing here. 
“Jack?” You called out as you stood behind him. His arm was resting on the chair of a pretty blond girl next to him. You couldn’t quite describe the look in his eyes when his head turned to face you, but the words he was about to say completely crushed you. 
“Do I know you?” He questioned, and you could feel your heart shatter inside of you. You tried your best to keep a brave face on, but you were dying on the inside. 
“J, come one, this isn’t funny. I’ve been texting and calling all day, you were gone when I woke up this morning.” You mumbled, taking a step closer to him. The girl on his right could read you perfectly, and she realized that you two were a couple. When it clicked in her mind, she sent the boy a judging look before standing from her seat and walking back to her friends. 
Jack got up right after her, gripping your wrist and dragging you outside the bar. “What’re you doing here?” He asked harshly once the two of you stood outside alone. 
“No! What are you doing, Jack?”
“I’m enjoying a night with my buddys!” 
“Yeah, the friends you said I could meet. Tonight!”
“When did I say that?” His words were harsh and rude, making your heart shatter even more. You truly did not understand why he always acted this way towards you lately, but you were growing tired of it. 
“Last night! You said I could come if I wanted to, and I want to be here, so here I am. And here you are, with your arm around another girl!” You said, your tone matching his. You were tired of letting him walk over you all the time. 
“I said that so you would shut up and leave me alone. God, you’re always just complaining about everything and anything. It’s like nothing’s ever enough for you, you always need more–” 
“Oh, nothing’s enough for me? What about you, huh? Am I not enough for you?” 
“There you go, making it about you like always.” 
“Because this is about me, Jack! I am your girlfriend of three months, and I don’t know any of your friends! It’s like you’re ashamed to be with me. Do your friends even know about me?” You asked. There were tears in the back of your eyes threatening to spill, but you blinked them away. You had cried enough over him for the last couple of weeks. The boy in front of you stayed silent at your question, making you scoff. 
“Of course they don’t know, just like your brother’s weren’t suppose to know, or your parents. You don’t want anyone to know that your girlfriend is me.” You spoke with your voice low. This exact though had been in the back of your mind for a long time, but saying it out loud made it feel so much more real. 
“Things were better before you knew–” 
“They were better for you! You lied to me for weeks, and you’re still lying. All you do is lie, Jack. I can’t believe I waisted so much time and energy on you. You never wanted this relationship, did you? You just wanted someone to fuck whenever you needed, someone to be there for you. You didn’t care who it was, you neved cared about me. You’re pathetic, seriously.” You mumbled before pushing past the hockey player and walking to your car. 
You were done with Jack Hughes.
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xxlady-lunaxx · 1 month ago
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it seemed like the worst things happened on days that were supposed to be the best.
tanjiro had sold out completely that day, his basket light and happy on his back. the very same night, his family had been slaughtered.
nezuko was finally human, finally able to be with tanjiro again, able to live with him, truly. but only if he came back too, only if he stopped letting the blood flow freely from the people he loved.
all was well for zenitsu, though the training was hard, but everyone was so kind to him and he was proud of himself for how far he’d come. the letter he had intended to send to his gramps was cut short, unfinished as the news of the death for the first person to care about him came in a rolled note delivered by a small bird.
kanao was improving, both in training and with her emotions. but as her strength increased, so did the amount of poison in the blood of the woman who had once been a girl, taking her in without a moment’s hesitation.
senjuro was proud to be kyojuro’s brother and he would make sure that was evident, outdoing himself as he prepared for his brother’s birthday. but the food was left out, cold and uneaten, rotting like kyojuro’s heart—something meant to be beautiful; gone.
giyuu had been full of anticipation and giddiness because tsutako was going to get married! and yet, only hours before her marriage, her blood was the only thing decorating the house.
sanemi and genya were awaiting their mother, excited to see her as they were always in her presence. in the span of less than half an hour, genya had found sanemi standing over the woman they had loved—the one who had killed the rest of their family, the one who was killed unintentionally by the one who had possibly loved her most.
kanae had been happy, still high off the laughter her family had shared over dinner. but the night was full of tears and all she could do was hold onto shinobu and promise to never let this happen to anyone else.
gyomei was glad that kaigaku wasn’t causing trouble today, allowing the other children to go to bed peacefully without the usual disruption. but then none of them would ever awaken again, and kaigaku had caused much, much more than a little childish argument.
shinobu loved being held by kanae, even if she immediately scolded her for treating her like a child. she hated holding kanae in her own arms, feeling like the weight of her life was in her hands when she knew she could do absolutely nothing.
tengen had met the people whom he’d marry, and he was quite satisfied—after all the three of them seemed very lovely and he was surprisingly happy with them. but they had to run away, leave, and tengen could barely catch his breath with his own family’s blood staining his hands.
kotoha love inosuke, she loved douma, she loved this new life she was making. even so, fear was always stronger, fear was running away, fear was inosuke falling, fear was her own death by the hands of someone she had mistakenly trusted once again.
hakuji was finally someone, finally able to make someone happy. but that someone was dead, and his hands were now bloodied, and he wished he were dead.
yoriichi had made a life for himself, he was happy with uta and he was, for once in his life, full of excitement at the prospect of their soon-to-be child. except everything was wrong and he was holding uta like he should’ve held his child but he now they were both gone and all he could think was that they had done nothing wrong.
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physalian · 3 months ago
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How to Keep your Insecure Character from Becoming a “Nice Guy”
Or Nice Girl
The very last book I will have beta’d for the foreseeable future had a lot going for it, but one trait I absolutely despise in fictional characters is insecurity that makes it everybody else’s problem (I mean I hate it in people, too). By this I mean, the girlfriend who cannot tolerate her boyfriend having other friends who are girls, and whining to him about it. The partner who still wonders if their lover loves them, with zero evidence to the contrary, constantly forcing a tiring debate to sate these unfounded claims.
The thing is. Real people are like this.
But the other thing is: Fiction is meant to entertain.
It’s never the insecurity that I have issue with (I am not immune to it myself) it’s the impact that insecurity has on the story. If this protagonist had quietly kept it to herself but allowed the rest of the story to move forward, and dealt with it, if not alone, but in some progressive or even regressive manner, just not stagnant, it might’ve been okay.
So the scene that would have had me DNF immediately if this had been an organic read was these two adult middle-aged characters. Stalker plotline. The boyfriend is a has-been. The girlfriend, protagonist, has already had many a bout of insecure nonsense (oh he thinks I’m ugly as he’s railing me against my dresser) but the breaking point is when she’s sent an explicit photo of him when he was younger, mid-sex with some model.
And this lady is absolutely crushed. The revelation that… this is a person who has had sex before… is somehow shocking. Like, this character seemed to desire a 50-year-old virgin who is also an adonis. The whole time I’m reading her only care about her own feelings, when I’m thinking “do you not give a single fuck about how your boyfriend feels seeing himself so exposed, a picture floating around on the internet at anyone’s mercy? How he feels to be reminded of this moment and manipulated, too?”
I’m sure I’m in the vast minority who cannot stand these types of characters, but I would have quit the book right then and there. The book was also a who-dun-it, meaning any character could be a suspect, including the boyfriend. So we’re sitting here with multiple red herrings while the protagonist ignores all of them to whine about how the man’s unbridled and unflinching love and adoration for her just isn’t enough.
Bitch then be single if you can’t handle the knowledge that your 50-year-old celebrity boyfriend got around when he was younger. You knew what you were getting into. Which was my sticking point—it wasn’t like this was a shocking twist reveal. She knew from the moment they met that he was a bit of a player. It would be wholly different if he’d led her to believe that he’s some devout celibate saving himself for her.
Is this entertaining to other people? It’s not to me.
Separating it from the actual insecurity for a second: When you force your character to go around in circles in their arc and development, no matter what that arc and development is, you have stagnated the plot and each time they meet the same pitfall, they make the exact same choices that keep them in this loop.
None of this insecurity subplot amounted to anything. She eventually got over it after one arbitrary conversation but she didn’t change as a person, it didn’t do anything for the story, it was just there, probably an outlet for the author to exercise her own demons.
But this is a story and I am not entertained and your author insert is subject to the same scrutiny as everyone else.
So.
What *I think* are compelling ways to write insecure characters. Because I wrote one. My protagonist in ENNS.
You can and should absolutely write for yourself. Just always remember that if you only write for yourself, you can’t expect everyone else to like it, and you can’t get mad when they don’t. They are not you and they don’t have your tastes.
Have the insecurity be part of their arc with movement, either forward or backward, so they don’t become a static and boring character
Give them some evidence, any evidence, to support this insecurity. Maybe their love interest really does have an issue with some physical trait. Or in the past they really have been bullied or mocked for it. Anything so that this character’s fears have merit and can become tragic and relatable instead of unfounded and annoying.
Have this character take actions to augment this insecurity or cover it up, so that they’re not going “ugh I’m so ugly… but I’m not doing anything about it it’s just here”. Like wearing oversized clothes, keeping their hair in their face, speaking softly or not smiling with teeth—whatever it is, give them some agency in this fear. This is still a character trait and internal conflict, therefore it needs some actual conflict. Inaction is unappealing.
Balance out the negativity with something more compelling. They might be insecure but they’re really skilled at this one thing, or they’re really funny or kind or smart, so the audience has something else to root for instead of just a character who is negative and self-deprecating for the entire story.
Show that though experience proves this insecurity garnered them mistreatment, this current person they’re trying to impress really doesn’t care one bit about it, and don’t make it the other character’s problem. You can still have the protagonist wary and skeptical that the comments haven’t started, but let them do so quietly instead of cornering the friend/love interest with zero evidence to demand attention when said friend/love interest has done absolutely nothing wrong.
Like. If this was a murder mystery, and you had a character who, with zero proof, started suspecting Character E, and didn’t even look at A-D, despite all the mounting evidence that E is innocent, Protagonist is just fixating and projecting and stuck in their own head, would that be entertaining? You’re reading a murder mystery to live vicariously through the hero and use their smarts and observation skills to try and solve it yourself. You’re not here to watch them harass E until they admit to guilt for a crime they didn’t commit just to make it stop.
If that is a story you want to read, the summary would make that quite clear up front, or at least the first two chapters before you get invested. If I’m sold a murder mystery, by god, I’m going to expect a murder mystery.
Something I see a lot in inexperienced authors (or those who think “writing is easy, if it’s hard for you, you just suck”) is making characters too realistic. If you want to write a full-blown transcript of a conversation, false-starts and stutters and nonsensical grammar and half-finished points, be my guest, but fiction is supposed to be a little cleaned up. Details in fictional stories should be written with intent.
Not every single one. Sometimes a character’s eyes are green because I have too many with brown. It’s not that deep.
But bigger things, like a character’s personality and motives, should all serve the greater narrative. What does their insecurity say about them? How does it impact the choices they make and how they see the world? Is this something they grow out of or a trait that dooms them as a self-fulfilling prophecy?
The lesson doesn’t always have to be “you’re beautiful just the way you are”. It can be a nightmarish regression. Whatever it is, just tell a story with it, otherwise, why is it here?
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