#but perhaps it helps for her to see what he feels

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Her Ex Got Engaged

↳ Masterlist

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✯ pairing: Max Verstappen x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: None✯

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Almost two years had passed since the end of the longest relationship she had ever had. Six years that had introduced her to romantic love—and to romantic deception. She could still picture the subtle yet undeniable shift in his expression as she spoke animatedly about the future she envisioned for them. It wasn’t until much later that she realized that moment had been a warning, a quiet revelation that he did not see her in his.

She soon learned what a breakup truly felt like—the endless crying, the ache in her chest, the unbearable helplessness. Absolute hell.

Looking back, though, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the conversation that ended it all. Painful as it had been, it had given her the clarity she needed. It had hurt—stung far too much—to realize he had known for some time that she was not the one but hadn’t ended things sooner. She had spent too long wondering why. But perhaps, if he had, she wouldn’t be where she was now—with someone who loved her the way she deserved. And for that, she was grateful.

It was late morning, and as Max played with the cats beside her, she scrolled through Instagram stories to see what her friends and other people were up to. Clubbing, dinners, traveling, running—the usual things people posted. She would glance at each for just a second before swiping to the next. But then she stopped, her finger frozen on the screen as she stared, at one point almost vacantly, before tapping on the shared post.

Engaged. She stared blankly at the caption, the single word mocking her. After what—a year? He was already engaged to someone else? How? Max barely glanced at her phone at first, still focused on scratching behind the cat’s ears. But when he noticed the way she had suddenly stilled, eyes fixed on the screen, he leaned in slightly.

“Who’s that?” he asked, peering over her shoulder. “One of your friends?”

She blinked, hesitating a second too long. “Uh—”

Max smirked, nudging her playfully. “Tell me it’s not another wedding. I’m running out of excuses not to go.”

That earned a small, breathy laugh from her, but it wasn’t quite right—too forced. She locked her phone and placed it face-down beside her. “No wedding,” she said lightly. “Don’t worry.”

Max tilted his head. “Then why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

“I don’t,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing.”

His smirk faded slightly as he studied her face. “It’s someone, though.”

She sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “My ex,” she admitted. “He got engaged.”

Max’s expression didn’t change immediately. He just stared at her, then let out a quiet huh.

For a second, she thought maybe he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. But then, with that signature bluntness of his, he asked,

“So why do you care?”

She turned her head sharply. “I don’t.”

Max gave her a look, eyes flicking to her phone. “You do.”

His eyes met hers again, piercing through her, almost imploring an answer. Why did she care? It had been two years. She was happy—with herself, with him, with her life in general. And yet, it felt like a hard punch to the stomach.

“I don’t know,” she sighed.

Max’s jaw tensed slightly, his fingers drumming against his knee as he studied her. He wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but something about this—about her reaction—itched at him in a way he didn’t like.

“You don’t know?” he echoed, his voice quieter now, but there was an edge to it.

She ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, it’s offensive,” she said, trying to explain. “That he just—engaged so fast.”

Max’s brow furrowed. “And that bothers you because…?”

She sighed. “Because it makes me wonder how long he knew I wasn’t the one.”

Max was quiet for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, in a tone sharper than before, he asked,

“And do you still care?”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“About him,” Max clarified, his expression unreadable. “Because you look like someone just punched you, and I don’t know why else you’d be this upset if you were actually over it.”

She blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Max, no—”

“Because if you’re not happy with me, you should tell me,” he continued, his voice still controlled. “If you still want him—”

“I don’t,” she cut him off, shaking her head firmly. “I swear, I don’t.”

He exhaled, looking away for a second, his fingers tightening into a fist before relaxing. “Then why?” His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “Why does it feel like you’re still stuck in it?”

She opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come right away. It wasn’t about her ex, not really. It was about time, about the fact that she had spent years loving someone who hadn’t loved her back the same way. It was about realizing that she had been so blind to it.

But looking at Max now—his guarded expression, the slight clench of his jaw, the way his fingers twitched like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for her or pull away—she realized that he didn’t see it that way.

Her chest tightened.

She reached for his hand, curling her fingers around his. “Max, I’m happy, the happiest I’ve ever been,” she said, her voice softer now. “With you. I swear, I don’t want him back. I just—it caught me off guard. That’s all.”

His shoulders didn’t relax immediately, his thumb ghosting over her knuckles as he studied her face, searching for something.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and for all his bluntness, there was something vulnerable about the way he said it.

She squeezed his hand. “I’m sure.”

Max exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly like he was mad at himself for even thinking otherwise. Then, finally, he tugged her closer, his hand slipping to the nape of her neck as he rested his forehead against hers.

“I don’t like seeing you like that,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “And I really don’t like the thought of you still caring about him.”

She smiled, brushing her nose against his. “I don’t.”

His lips barely curved, but the tension in his body faded just slightly.

“Good,” he murmured before kissing her, slow and deliberate, like he was grounding himself in her. Like he was making sure she was here. With him.

Max pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand still cradling the nape of her neck. His expression had softened—still serious, but there was a hint of something else now. Something almost teasing.

“So,” he murmured, thumb brushing absently over her skin. “If you’re so bothered by him getting engaged, you wanna just… get engaged too?”

She blinked. “What?”

Max shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, why not? Even the score.”

She scoffed, shoving his shoulder. “Oh, now you want to propose, just to be petty?”

He chuckled, but there was a glint in his eyes, something more thoughtful than his usual teasing. “Maybe. I think we’d look better in engagement photos, anyway.”

She rolled her eyes while smiling. 

Max smirked and leaned in again, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth before murmuring against her skin, “One day, though.”

Her breath hitched slightly.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his usual cocky demeanor softened by something undeniably genuine. “Not just to ‘even the score’ or whatever,” he added, his voice quieter now. “But because I want to.”

She swallowed, her heart skipping a beat at the certainty in his tone.

“One day,” she echoed, her lips curving slightly.

Max’s grin widened. “Good, and it will be a much fancier ring than that, okay?.”

She laughed, shaking her head as he pulled her into him again. “Okay.”

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✯ authors note: English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 3

I'm on a roll- don't expect it to last :)) but as of right now, Chapter 4 is done, Chapter 5 will be started, and I feel like each one will be longer and longer than the last- hope ch4 was just a one in a trillion thing

First || previous<< Chapter 3 >>next

Sleeping that night seemed to be a struggle on its own, nightmares plaguing your mind left and right. You’d fall asleep for 30 minutes and wake up, fall asleep for another 30 minutes and wake up again, and again, and again, giving up once you woke up at 03:33 am. No use in trying to sleep if you’re just going to wake up crying and gasping for air, heart pumping so hard you could hear the blood running through your veins.

You needed air, wanted something less stuffing than the four walls that seemed to close in around your shaking form. With bare feet, you made your way across the manor towards the garden. May as well try and do something productive.

The garden was loved and taken care of, once upon a time. The plants were dead, the trees dried beyond help, and the dirt may need to be changed as well if the roots have gone putrid and rotten, just to be sure. It’ll take years to bring the space to its glory, to how it looked in the painting, but you could feel it in your bones that it will be worth it.

Diverting your attention from the nightmares to the garden helped ease the shaking, the fear. The more you thought about the nightmares, the more you didn’t know which one scared you the most. Between relieving your mom’s death, accepting she was dead, that you’ll never see her again, that you didn’t even know where they buried her- and seeing Bruce as the one holding the gun, firing it at your mom, at you, and then laughing with glee, saying something you didn’t quite remember…  You couldn’t decide which one you hated the most.

Your eyes trailed the walls of the manor, up to the roof, and back down. You wanted to call him dad, hug him, have him come to your recitals and activities, and have him love you like Officer Gordon said he would. And yet, no matter how close he seemed to you, he was farther away than the moon. You hoped it was just your awkward self, that maybe your anxieties were putting ideas where there shouldn’t be any. Today’s breakfast only seemed to fortify said anxieties.

“When will I go back to school?” The question fell from your lips so quietly, and the silence it created made you sink into yourself. Bruce’s eyes had been glancing at you non-stop, but now they were fixated on you, non-blinking. He hummed, low and thoughtful. “You’ll be moved to online schooling. After what happened to your mom, I feel it will be safer for you to stay inside the manor for a while”

“For forever.” The shadows hissed in his ear, but Bruce simply cleared his throat, checked his watch, and left, Richard following soon after at the man’s nudging. Bruce will drive Dick to school. Your eyes remained on your plate as they left, remaining quiet for a while.

“Mama said I should make friends.” Your teary eyes met Alfred’s again as your lip trembled. “How will I make friends if I can’t go outside?” The older man’s hands were rubbing together behind his back. He felt as inexperienced as when Bruce was a toddler, as unsure of what to do as when he was with his father. That was a rare feeling for the man.

With a soft sigh and a shaky hand placed on the young kid’s shoulder, Alfred did what he did best. “I am sure you will have many opportunities to make friends, young miss.” He lied. You knew he was, and yet you held onto the hope. Bruce said it’ll only be for a while- so maybe, just maybe, in high school, you’ll have tons of friends.

You finished your plate, eyes still wet, but at least you didn’t cry. Your insistence to help Alfred was only met with a soft smile and a shake of his head, the man insisting on you enjoying the free time you have, telling you that perhaps you should go and buy some clothes, some decorations for your room.

Again, you mentioned the insanity of leaving a kid to buy whatever they wanted, but Alfred only laughed. “Can- is there a laptop I can use? Mama always let me on hers when we ordered something online. It’ll be easier for me…” You asked so softly, almost going into rambling as anxiety of sounding like a brat, like you were ungrateful for the phone, settled in.

Alfred didn’t even blink, no muscle on his face twitched as he only nodded, saying he’ll bring one to your room straight away. That was easier than expected. You were so used to your mom saying no, or bargaining with her for new shoes, and you understood- you didn’t have that much money, could barely scrap by… But the way the Waynes threw money around felt irresponsible. Does Bruce truly make that much money that he doesn’t have to worry about losing his home? What if he loses it all one day? Does he have a savings account? Your tummy didn’t feel good worrying about all that, mama always said that only adults should worry about money.

You don’t think your mom would like Bruce very much. That thought filtered through your brain for quite a while as you looked up how to take care of a garden and specific plants you wanted to see bloom. He was so cold, distant, creepy, and secretive. Your mother always dreamed of a loving man, strong but gentle. You never understood why she put up with the men she hung out with considering they were exactly like Bruce.

Alfred interrupted your musing as he knocked, opening the door only when he heard your voice. He left the laptop and its charger on the desk, and his only words were to inform you of the timetable for eating.  “But, of course, if you get hungry before then, you’re more than welcome to the kitchen, young miss.” And he left just as fast as he came, barely having the time to ask where your mother would be buried. You doubted Bruce would hold a funeral for her. Alfred just said he’ll look into it.

With a small huff, you went and plugged the charger into the wall and laptop before opening it. Bruce gave you the card to use, and if he can’t be bothered to go with you to stores, you can surely get whatever you want. He’s so rich, you can bleed him dry a bit.

In the end, you didn’t. You felt too guilty about buying clothes and things for the garden, so your desires for those shiny metallic watercolors and 360 markers were exchanged for a few sketchbooks and graphite pens. Your mother is rolling in her grave at how much you spent, you were sure, so you rationalized the guilt to simply wanting to perfect your skills before buying those fancy things.

You got the clothes a size or two bigger, just like mami did, so they’ll fit you for longer. Simple things, pajamas, socks, underwear, and a few pairs of jeans and T-shirts, things she’d buy for you since you were unsure of what you were supposed to get.

You hoped Bruce wouldn’t be too angry, he was a scary man now, and you dreaded to see him angry. On the garden side of things, you may have overindulged. From all the tools you got, to the kind of soil, to the types of flowers, to making sure you got beds for the plants. The soil outside truly looked beyond saving. But if he was okay with Richard’s desire for more gymnastics equipment, surely he'd be fine with this.

At lunch, you were informed by Alfred that Bruce and Dick won’t attend dinner. It didn’t surprise you, however, it still felt like they were avoiding you, and it still hurt. Perhaps this will be the new normal, the everyday occurrence. Maybe this was normal for them, you were sure high school and work kept them both busy… Will they ever have time for you?

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae Forgot the tags D: my bad

[meadowfics]

meet me down on polk street

cho hyun-ju x f!woc!reader

in which you find your girlfriend during a harsh period within society

this will be a series that is based in america during the 1960s. after coming out as a trans woman back in south korea, hyun ju moves far away to california and meets who will be the love of her life.. y/n l/n.

warnings: harsh mentions of transphobia, harsh mentions of homophobia, harsh mentions of racism. there is NO squid game in this au, well at least in the 1960s!! y/n is intended to be a woman of color to fit within the storyline of how her and hyun-ju connect, but anyone can read this!!

next chapter will be linked here

its march 1967.. the air in seoul felt heavy, thick even. 

hyun ju had spent years carrying the burden of silence, pressing herself into a mold that never fit. the special forces had demanded discipline, obedience, and above all, unwavering masculinity. 

she had learned to march, to fire a rifle, to bark commands with a voice deeper than what felt natural. none of it changed the fact that, beneath the uniform, beneath the rigid posture and sharp salutes, she had always been a woman.  

resignation had been the easy part. 

telling her parents had been the war, not even close battles with the north side of the peninsula caused her to be this tense.  

“why did you leave?” her mother’s voice had been tight, worried. hyun ju had never given them reason to doubt her before. she had always done what was expected. good grades. respectable career. 

she had honored the family name. 

and now, she had thrown it away.  

hyun ju had prepared herself for this conversation for years, whispering the words in the quiet of her barracks, in the mirror of public restrooms where she dared to see her reflection as she truly was. 

nothing could have prepared her for the way her father’s face twisted, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the table.  

“i left,” she had begun, keeping her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest, “because i am not who you think i am.”  

her mother’s brows furrowed. 

“what do you mean?”  

“i have never been your son,” hyun ju said, carefully, precisely. 

“i– i am your daughter.”  

silence. the kind that suffocates, that presses against your ribs until it hurts to breathe.  

hyun ju’s mother’s lips parted, but no words came out. her father, however, did not hesitate.  

“are you sick?” his voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a knife.  

hyun ju clenched her fists under the table.

“no.”  

“this is nonsense,” her mother finally spoke, her voice a whisper, as if even acknowledging hyun ju’s words would bring shame upon their household.  

hyun ju had expected confusion. perhaps even denial. 

nothing could have prepared her for the disgust in her father’s eyes.  

“you are not my daughter,” he spat, rising to his feet so abruptly that the chair scraped against the floor. 

“you are delusional. sick in the head.”  

hyun ju felt something inside her fracture, a deep, aching wound that she knew would never heal.  

“you need help,” her mother said softly, eyes pleading.  

help. as if this was something to fix. as if she hadn’t spent her entire life trying to be something she wasn’t.  

hyun ju stood. she didn’t argue. didn’t beg them to understand. there was no point.  

“i will be leaving,” she said instead, voice hollow.  

hyun ju’s mother reached out, as if to stop her, but her father’s glare made her hesitate.  

“where will you go?” her mother asked.  

hyun ju swallowed. 

“somewhere i can be myself.”  

she left that night with only a small suitcase and the cash she had saved.  

for a week, she stayed in a hotel, staring out the window at a city that had never truly been hers. seoul was home, but it was also a cage. she wandered through familiar streets with unfamiliar freedom, but the loneliness settled into her bones, heavy and unshakable.  

the loneliness was suffocating.

hyun ju had spent her entire life feeling like a stranger in her own skin, but now, sitting alone in the dimly lit hotel room, staring at the ceiling, she felt like a stranger in the world itself.

the walls around her were bare, just like the space inside her chest. the bed, stiff and unwelcoming, felt foreign beneath her. no warmth, no familiarity. just a place to rest her body while her mind spiraled into a place she was afraid of.

not even the beds in those cold military barracks felt this hard. 

hyun ju needed to leave. she knew this in her bones, just as she had always known who she was. even as she clung to that certainty, another part of her whispered doubts, wrapping around her thoughts like ivy.

was she ready for this?

was she truly prepared to step into the unknown, to carve out a life for herself in a place she had never seen, surrounded by people she had never met?

hyun ju’s parents' rejection had cut deep, deeper than she would ever admit. it wasn’t just their words, but the finality of it. the way her father’s face twisted in disgust, as if the years she had spent as their child had been erased in an instant. the way her mother looked through her instead of at her.

they would not come looking for her.

she had no one left.

how was anyone supposed to love her if her parents did not?

the thought made her stomach twist, nausea creeping up her throat.

she pressed her fingers against her temples, breathing in sharply. she couldn’t let herself break down. not yet.

outside the window, the streets of seoul were alive with movement. people bustled past each other, heading home from work, gathering at food stalls, laughing, talking, living.

she had spent years moving through these streets, blending in, becoming just another face in the crowd.

she had never belonged.

the weight of expectation had pressed down on her shoulders for as long as she could remember. the uniform she had worn in the military had been a costume, a lie draped over her body, suffocating her every time she was called by a name that wasn’t hers.

hyun ju has grown her hair out for the last year. some thought it was just due to not having many barbers in the special forces. no. 

the woman took in the fact that her silky hair has finally reached her shoulders. she still wore slacks and a button up that made her feel uncomfortable, but it will due for now.

five days after leaving home.. it was the morning time when she stopped at a newspaper stand.

little did she know, that newspaper stand will guide her in the next direction  

the headline caught her eye.  

"san francisco: a city of outcasts? the rise of the homosexual community in america.” 

she picked up the paper, scanning the article. it was written with thinly veiled disgust, detailing how “deviants” had begun gathering in san francisco, forming their own communities, living openly, unashamed.  

hyun ju exhaled sharply. she wasn’t sure if it was relief or fear pounding in her chest.  

a place where people like her could exist.  

she had heard whispers before, stories of american cities where people defied the rules, where they didn’t have to hide.  

san francisco.  

it was far. farther than she had ever imagined going. however, it was on the other side of the pacific. 

she had enough money to get there, maybe take the ferry to japan and then a plane from there.  

hyun ju folded the paper under her arm and walked back to her hotel, her steps lighter than they had been in years.  

for the first time in her life, she had a destination.

—

to you, virginia had never felt like home. not really. it had been familiar, yes..predictable, routine. the kind of place where everyone knew everyone’s name, where sunday mornings were spent in church, where girls were raised to become wives, not dreamers.  

you had always known you were different.  

you grew up knowing the rules, watching your mother press your father’s shirts, hearing your grandmother’s hushed whispers about the girl down the street who had never married, the pity in their voices like a warning. but you never wanted that life. 

you never wanted to settle into a house with a husband you barely loved, to push a stroller while you stared longingly at women in ways you weren’t supposed to.  

so you had left. gone to college. the first woman in your family to do so.  

it was there, in the winding brick paths and ivy-covered buildings of virginia tech, that you met jane.  

jane had been everything you had secretly longed for. confident, smart, sharp-tongued in a way that made your stomach flutter. she is the only other woman of color on this side of campus.. besides you.

jane was the kind of girl who smoked cigarettes on dorm balconies, who read poetry with a knowing smirk, who pulled you into late-night conversations about philosophy and literature and the way women in books seemed to glow like something untouchable.  

you thought that your relatability with the woman would bring you closer to her.

however, jane had never been for you.  

you realized it too late.  

the confession had been a mistake.  

“i love you, jane,” you had said, your voice small, shaking.  

jane had laughed at first. like it was a joke.  

then you met her eyes, desperate, pleading. and everything shifted.  

jane’s face twisted, disgust flashing across her features so fast that you barely had time to process it.  

“you’re a freak.”  

the words hit like a slap.  

jane took a step back, as if you were something dirty, something unnatural.  

“i was not aware that you were a mentally ill lesbian,” she spat, voice dripping with venom.  

you couldn’t breathe.  

the words echoed. over and over and over.  

then everyone knew.  

the rumors spread like wildfire. whispers in the halls, lingering stares in the dining hall, notes left on your dorm room door with slurs you couldn’t bring yourself to read.  

your parents found out within the week.  

the disappointment in their voices was worse than the hatred.  

“what did we do wrong?” your mother sobbed into the phone.  

your father said nothing at all.  

it was over.  

there was nothing left for you here.  

so you left in the middle of the night, stuffing clothes into a bag, emptying the $1,000 you had saved into your pockets.  

you didn’t know where you were going. only that you had to go.  

after weeks of hitchhiking.. you ended up in san francisco.  

the city felt like something out of a dream. something that you have only heard about through newspapers. loud, sprawling, alive in a way virginia never had been.  

you settled into a tiny apartment on the north side of polk street, barely big enough to fit the life you were trying to rebuild.  

it wasn’t much. though it was yours.  

you found a job…secretary work, nothing glamorous, but enough to keep you afloat.  

the days blurred together. work, home, sleep.  

but the nights—  

the nights were different.  

—

tonight, the air is warm, thick with the scent of cigarettes and city life.  

you walk down polk street, the heels of your shoes clicking softly against the pavement. you’re tired from the day, your blouse slightly wrinkled, but something in your chest feels lighter than usual.  

you’re just two blocks from home when you see them.  

a group of men…laughing, smiling, holding hands.  

they’re beautiful. some of them are wearing pink, their faces painted with eyeliner and rouge. others are in silk blouses, skirts, heels taller than yours.  

they belong to each other.  

for the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel so alone.  

you catch the eye of one of them, a boy with soft curls and glitter dusted over his cheekbones. you offer him a small smile, lifting your chin just slightly…subtle, but enough.  

a signal.  

me too.  

he grins, his gaze lingering with a smile just long enough before he turns back to his friends.  

you follow their laughter to the front of a bar.  

black cat bar.

you stare at the purple neon glowing sign, your fingers twitching at your sides.  

you’ve never been inside a place like this.  

maybe this is where you were supposed to go next.  

maybe this is where you will finally start to feel like yourself.  

you take a deep breath, stepping forward toward the line.  

little do you know—  

there is a woman just a few steps ahead of you, a woman in a dress, her dark hair falling just past her shoulders.  

a woman with nervous hands and hopeful eyes.  

a woman who has run just as far as you have.  

hyun ju.

next part coming very soon

[vxlentinescookies]

ohmygosh is it possible you could write something for past!shadow milk cookie x (fem) reader?

perhaps there's a moment where the reader returns to his spire/kingdom after visiting her family that lives afar, but she comes back to him all wounded after being robbed from some bandits?

i just want to see this guy being absolutely distraught over not knowing this happened to us, but we reassure him with gentle touches, kisses, and comforting words 😭💖

→ ❛The Old Days: A robbery❜

→ Pairing ; Shadow Milk Cookie x Fem!Reader → Quote ; ❛❛You’re my all and everything, you know that, right?❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons → A/N ; Here you go!

It was a normal day like always, it just seemed to be one of those days where things had come right and would pass right as they do, but…

“(y/n)! Beloved!” A voice would call out to you as you arrived at the Spire of Knowledge, your steps becoming hurried more and more as you approach it before kneeling by the side of your beloved, Shadow Milk Cookie.

“Milkie, what happened?” You ask him with worry as you rush to his side, before he’d speak again, between heavy breaths. “You look hurt…”

“I was robbed—Some bandits came and tried to rob us!” He’d say, clearly distraught as you sighed and helped him up “My sweetheart…”

“Come, lets get you all patched up, ok?” You say, softly, looking at him with a sweet gaze before lifting him up towards the stairs of the spire.

Being robbed was something Shadow Milk couldnt have thought of… happening in his life!

Yet here we are, moments after the events with you bringing him up with a warm smile and a cozy air.

Rising into your shared bedroom, you make sure everything is secure before allowing him to rest into the bed before you’d climb to his side, smiling.

And you’d whisper sweet nothings, gentle smiles and words and sweet whispers, things to keep him calm…

“Breathe, angel, breathe with me…” You’d say at one point, once in bed as you held his hands in yours with a warm smile “Feel free to lean on me…”

And he’d do so, leaning into your chest, feeling the soft heartbeat of your heart, it was everything he needed to feel calm already, despite being so distraught before, your scent and self calmed him instantly always.

“Oh sweetheart, what I would do without you…” He’d say, setting his face on your breast with a soft smile as his hair tickled your skin “You’re my all and everything, you know that, right?”

“Of course… Of course I know…”

But you know dreams are dreams, still, you cling to it like your life depended on it.

Your hands would caress his hair, softly, and your eyes would gaze over him as he cuddled to you, holding you close.

He was still distraught, that much wasnt a lie, he was still aching over what was stolen and lost.

But with you by his side… How could he ever feel lost…?

… Right, how could a jester like him ever feel lost…

[sturns-mermaid]

Jealousy

ღ wc: 991

reader & matt povs | warnings: player chris, making out + touching, drinking, clubbing - let me know if I missed any | proofread by Sofia!

more of them here

shoutout to @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan for letting me yap to her about this au!!

The loud music from the club speakers echoed through your ears as your hips swayed to the music. It was a casual Friday night. You and a friend had decided to have your weekly night out. It was a tradition of sorts to go out on Friday night, pre-game for the weekend. You were dressed in your favorite clubbing outfit, with great shoes and hair perfectly styled. The Weeknd plays through the speakers as your friend dances with you, her hands resting on your hips as you dance. 

Yet you could feel someone’s eyes on you from across the room. Usually, you would shrug it off, being used to guys constantly hitting on you. Glancing over to the club's far side, you meet eyes with a brunette who was man spreading over the club’s couch, a drink in hand as his smirk widened. You scoff slightly as your friend whispers teasing words in your ear from behind you. “He’s so into you,” she whispers, giggling. You roll your eyes as you spin around to face her, letting out a small giggle. “Don’t care, we’re here to get wasted. Screw men,” you say as you see her groan, her hands resting on you, caressing your shoulders softly. “When’s the last time had fun?” she questions winking. You sigh as you realize you haven’t had a casual hookup in a while, but these days no one is worth your time. It’s not like you wanted something real, more like someone with common decency and brain cells.

Yet somehow, you still found yourself being dragged towards his presence. The reason might be that your friend hauled you over to where he was sitting. Or maybe it was his warming smile and soft stare, a big contrast from the smirk he had on earlier. Was this all an act? Surely he didn't want to hit that badly. You watched as he ran his hair through his messy brunette locks.

“Want a drink?” he asked as he smiled and handed you a glass of mystery liquid, to which you glared at him. Did he think you were that dumb to drink something that you didn’t know what it was? He noticed your look and chuckled slightly. “Pepsi,” he said as he took the straw between his plump lips and drank some. Oddly, you found yourself relaxing slightly as you two talked and laughed. He was nice? Which was somewhat surprising to you, since most guys only wanted one thing. That's how you found yourself giving him your number at the end of the night, handing him back his phone as your fingers brushed against his. Perhaps it was the few shots you had prior or his intense gaze on your full lips that made you both lean against the brick wall outside the club. 

His hands rested on your hips as your back was against the wall, his tongue swirling against yours, both of your movements slow and sensual. His hands traveled to your down further grabbing your ass and kneading the flesh slowly. Causing you to whimper into the kiss, you pulled back slightly watching him pant as he caught his breath. Your eyes scanned over his features taking in the goofy smile that was plastered on his face and his soft blue eyes. You bit your lip leaning your head to continue your make-out session, but before you could you were interrupted by the sound of heels clicking against the concrete. “Oh god you two get a room,” she teases as she pulls her purse over her shoulder groaning. “Let’s go I called an Uber” she slurs as she stumbles slightly gripping the wall for support. You gently pat Chris’s chest as you slip away and to your friend’s side helping her stand up. “See you around,” you mutter as he flashes you a grin and walks back into the club.

-

Matt’s pov

Oh god, he was annoying, now he was flirting with some other girl. How many girls could he possibly hit on in one night, this was getting old. I love my brother dearly, but he’s such a player, always putting on this fake facade as Mr. Nice Guy. He just uses girls and then disposes of them like they're nothing. I sat on the nearby chair beside Nick, watching how he talked with the last girl before they went outside and did god knows what. I hope she doesn’t text him, she looked way too good for him anyway. Sometimes I wish I was better at talking to people, mostly girls but also people in general, that’s why it’s a surprise I’m even at this club. But Chris and Nick begged me to drive them here because Chris didn’t want to drive. 

I sat sulking slightly in my seat as I watched the girl from earlier stumble back inside with her drunk friend clinging to her side. I wonder if she left something. I scan over her figure and the way she’s caring for her friend helping her lean onto her. She walks over to a club employee and starts asking something, I can’t quite hear as the loud music blares through the speakers. I didn’t even realize Chris was nudging me in the arm as he talked about something, a different girl perched on his lap. “Sorry, what?” I question, snapping out of my thoughts and looking at him. 

He shifts as he nudges the girl off of his lap scooting closer to me. “I got her number,” he says as he leans back into the couch grinning his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. I sit up and advert my gaze away from the girl and to my hands, as they fidgeted in my lap. I drowned out Chris’s voice as he bragged about how many girl numbers he had gotten that night, focusing on the way she smiled and laughed with him earlier wishing it was me.

-

note: I know this is a slow start dw I'm cooking fr!!

divider by: @anitalenia

tags: @itsmaddielouis @oliviasthatgirl @scorpio1205 @submattenthusiast @mattsplaything @courta13 @anyaa2s @sturnshood @stxrsniolo @heartsonlyforchris @immaqulate @t0riiiis @conspiracy-ash @brianna-grace12 @pasteldreams @sweetshuga

[hakkkuu]

im feeling a bit angsty today after i saw ur toxic bf riize texts 😔 if its okayy can i request for a continuation w anton? where the reader followed what he wanted (space) and slowly moved on from him (ghosting him). anton only realized it a few days after when he saw reader is posting on her socials again. the ending is up to youuu hehehe thank you so much! 🫶🫶🫶🫶

After your last conversation with Anton, where he had expressed feeling trapped and drained, you decided it was time to give him the space he so desperately seemed to need. You began to withdraw, not out of spite, but from a place of self-respect and the realization that perhaps this relationship was more harmful than healing. The act of ghosting him was gradual; you stopped initiating contact, your responses became briefer, and eventually, they ceased altogether. This wasn't just about giving him space; it was about reclaiming your own.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into 1 months, you felt a newfound freedom. The weight of trying to maintain a relationship that seemed one-sided lifted, allowing you to focus on yourself. You picked up hobbies you had neglected, spent more time with friends and your social media became a canvas of your personal growth, filled with pictures of you smiling, trying new foods, and exploring new places.

Meanwhile, Anton, who had initially felt relieved by the space, began to notice the silence. He scrolled through your social media, seeing your posts, each one a testament to your life moving forward without him. A pang of realization hit him; he had wanted space, but he hadn't anticipated the emptiness that followed. He missed your conversations, your laughter, the way you'd text him good morning and goodnight. The freedom he thought he craved now felt like a void.

The conversation ended there, leaving a silence that was both painful and necessary. Anton was left in a state of shock, his messages left on read, his heart heavy with regret. He hadn't realized how much he'd pushed you away until the door had closed.

Over the next few months, your life blossomed in ways you hadn't anticipated. Your friend has introduced you to Yushi. He was kind, funny, handsome, understanding, and most importantly, he appreciated you for who you were. After few dates, you started dating and you couldn't be more happy. Your relationship with Yushi grew slowly, built on mutual respect and shared interests. You instagram page turned into lovestagram, your smiles genuine and happiness palpable.

Anton, in his loneliness, couldn't help but check your social media from time to time, hoping for a sign that maybe you missed him too. But today, as he scrolled through, he saw it: a picture of you and a guy he never saw before, holding hands, laughter in your eyes, a joy that seemed to radiate from the screen. The caption read, "Found my peace with you"

A huge wave of sadness hit Anton as he realized it was forever over. The sight of you with someone else was a stark reminder of what he had lost. He remembered the times he had dismissed your needs, the moments he had taken your love for granted. He thought back to how he felt free when you gave him space, but now that freedom felt like a prison of his own making.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he sat alone in his room, the reality of his actions sinking in. He had lost you, not because you didn't love him, but because he hadn't loved you the right way. The regret was overwhelming, a lesson learned too late. Anton knew he had to move on, but the image of you with Yushi, happy and in love, would forever be etched in his mind as the moment he truly understood what he had given up.

[jackedjacket]

I just finished catching up with Spy x Family and I have to say how incredibly impressed I am with how amazing of a psychotherapist Loid is despite not technically being one himself. Endo's portrayal of how he reacts to Melinda's delusion that her husband is an alien is the way therapists should be treating/reacting to their clients who have delusions. He does not laugh at her. He does not dismiss her. Instead, he validates that it would be unrealistic to think we live in this universe alone. He asks her what has brought her to this conclusion. He suggests that perhaps her husband is a friendly alien, or that something similar could have happened to cause their rift (such as him getting superpowers). And more than that, he offers tangible solutions. He gives her a journal to write about the times when she thinks he may be reading her mind, why she thinks this, and how these times make her feel. More than that, he suggests that she actually addresses the concern of her husband being distant (which is what triggered this delusion) with him in order to get to a solution (yes, Loid's long term goal is to get Desmond in the office and develop a deeper contact with him, but that's besides the point).

And more than anything, I love this section here;

He knows the stigma of being mentally ill might make her not want to come back, and he knows that being mentally ill doesn't matter. What matters is that something is causing her an incredible amount of distress and pain, to the point that she came to see him, and that's what needs to be addressed.

When Loid first started pretending to be a therapist, I didn't really think we'd see much of it, and certainly not him actually treating patients. But the kindness, compassion, and understanding that he actually puts towards his patients is incredible and is something that we need more in real world therapy. This is the type of treatment that would help people. This is the understanding people need.

[solavellan--hell]

Something about Veilguard Solavellan that has been occupying my brain recently is the Inquisitor telling Rook that Solas may have purposefully left breadcrumbs for her to follow and stop him.

In case you have not seen it (it requires picking the emotional dialogue option), here is the full dialogue:

(Obviously spoilers for that interaction)

Inquisitor: He let me fall in love with him and then told me we couldn’t. Then, he told me not to follow while leaving me just enough clues to find him.

Rook: Hold on. You think he wanted you to stop him?

Inquisitor: His name is Solas. It means “Pride”. Perhaps he couldn’t change his mind himself, and hoped that someone else could help him. Or maybe I’m the prideful one, imagining his broken heart so that I never have to face my folly.

I actually really like this as a concept. But I feel like it was not actually implemented and it is a missed opportunity.

Yes, the main evidence for this would be Solas appearing as a wolf in Lavellan’s dreams. But that is not really a clue. I think it would have been so much more impactful to see mentions of Solas leaving actual clues for Lavellan to follow during the years she was after him, referencing their relationship or knowledge of each other, so that only she would pick them up. Telling her, once again, that his feelings would never change. Asking her, “if you really think there is another way, if you think I am worth your redemption, please come find me.”

Solas might seem so single-minded in trying to tear down the veil in Veilguard, that his internal conflict can be extremely easy to miss until the ending. That is because he fully operates within the persona of the Dread Wolf. He knows he cannot afford to show weakness this time around. But we know that his duty fueled by regret and responsibility conflicts his own wants by the end of Inquisition.

We know this from the non-romanced high approval redemption ending in Trespasser. In response to “You do not need to destroy this world. I will prove it to you” he says, “I would treasure the chance to be wrong again, my friend”. And he genuinely means it.

So, do I think it is possible he wanted Lavellan to find him and at least try to change his mind? Perhaps. Maybe his letter to her was a replacement of what he planned to say to her before the first ritual attempt. Maybe he wrote it just before the ritual, because he realized she would not be coming for him.

It’s a fun idea to explore, but they could have expanded on it better if they wanted it to be solid. Maybe they left it purposefully vague for players to decide whether they wanted it to be a thing or not, but still. A few more debatable points of potential evidence would have been nice, so that if you wanted it to be a thing you would have something to base it on.

[kakuvibez]

Ooooo, I love ur eah x twst posts!! I was wondering if u could make a Faybelle or a Bunny Blanc reader with whatever room u like, I would deeply appreciate it

Thx 💗💗

Twst | YANDERE DIASOMNIA DORM x FAYBELLE! Reader| M. List

Youuuu my lucky anon are going to get two parts! Each one of the requested characters!!! 🌷

╺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╸

Where Faybelle! reader find themselves in a boy school as a transfer student,,

❛❛You can't blame a girl for following her destiny.❜❜

Signature Spell: PROBLEMS,, her signature spell allows her to fly without using her wings. [N] Faybelle's signature cast curses, especially when it can cause mischief.

❛❛Yeah yeah whatever...❜❜

❛❛he what's wrong dear?❜❜

❛❛Hahaha! "Dear" like I'm some princess saying that.!❜❜

❛❛Creepy dudes...❜❜

❛❛Oh please, you love the chaos I bring.❜❜

❛❛You think curses are scary? You should see what I can do with a little effort. ❜❜

❛❛I don’t need a happily ever after. I make my own ending.❜❜

Part 1.

FAYBELLE READER.

You were chaos wrapped in glittering wings, a walking, talking contradiction of charm and mischief. A troublemaker with a cause—your destiny, after all, was to be the villain, and you embraced it with a cheerleader’s flair.

“Ready? OKAY! Onesie, twosie, counting sheep! Drowsy teacher, go to sleep!”

Professor Trein barely managed a glare before his eyes rolled back, snoring mid-lecture. The class erupted in whispers, a mix of admiration and terror. You twirled your wand, smirking as you lay back on seat.

And that's when you felt it—an unnatural stillness. A weighty gaze, suffocating, intoxicating, whatever words you like to describe but it felt uncomfortable. You search for the source and then you found it, no more like them.

Diasomnia.

Oh okay totally not creepy.... You look at...

Lilia chuckled, fangs peeking past his lips. “Oh, my dear, what a delightful trick.” His crimson eyes gleamed with mischief, but there was something unreadable beneath. Thank you thank you. You thought.

Sebek, of course, was red in the face. “HUMAN! How dare you use such trivial magic so carelessly? That is unfit for someone under His Highness’s watchful gaze—” His Highness, what? Dude, I'm not human, but whatever.

Silver, rubbing his temples, sighed. “I… would prefer if you didn’t put people to sleep so recklessly.”, yeah yeah pretty boy.

And Malleus… oh, Malleus. He studied you like a rare treasure, amusement flickering in his eerie green eyes. “Curses, you say?” His voice was smooth, deliberate. “How fascinating. I wonder… could you curse me?”

Your heart skipped. The way he said it, with that deep, velvety intrigue, sent a shiver down your spine.

Your wings fluttered, lips curving into a sly grin. “You can't blame a girl for following her destiny.”

Lilia clapped his hands together. “Indeed! Perhaps we should help you embrace it fully. We wouldn’t want you to feel… unappreciated.” what!? okay...

Something in his tone made your stomach twist—excitement, fear, anticipation. It was unsettling to say the least.

Ehh this isn't too bad...

"Until you get it right!" Sebek's voice echoed through the training grounds, his frustration evident. [N], perched precariously on a branch high above, wondering where they heard before, stifled a giggle. "Oh my Seevveennn, my spirit squad has no spirit!" she muttered her signature spell, PROBLEMS, allowing her to soar effortlessly through the air without the use of her wings.

Below, Sebek continued to berate the hapless first-years, his attempts at instructing them in swordsmanship turning into a comical display of exasperated shouting. Silver, ever patient, tried to calm his junior, while Lilia, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, simply watched the chaos unfold.

[N] Faybelle, a witch from a faraway land, had arrived at Night Raven College with a reputation for mischief. Her signature spells, often cast with a mischievous grin and a muttered "Don't ask me why. Being bad is, like, the BEST!", were notorious for causing minor (and sometimes major) inconveniences.

Malleus, the Dorm Head of Diasomnia, had been intrigued from the moment he witnessed her effortlessly causing mischievousness. Her wild, untamed spirit, a stark contrast to the rigid order he was accustomed to, had captivated him.

At first, his interest was merely curiosity. He found himself drawn to her, observing her from afar, fascinated by her unconventional magic and her rebellious streak. But his fascination quickly morphed into something darker, a possessive obsession that consumed him.

He began to subtly interfere in her life, "accidentally" encountering her at every turn, "coincidentally" appearing whenever she was in trouble. He showered her with extravagant gifts, his intentions veiled beneath a facade of benevolent generosity.

[N], initially very much flattered by the attention of the powerful fae prince, soon began to feel a creeping unease. Malleus's presence was suffocating, his gaze heavy with a possessiveness that made her skin crawl. She felt that it was too much but yet this was her chance to get a shiny prince!

One evening, as she was preparing to retire to her room, she felt a sudden chill. "PROBLEMS, go to sleep." she muttered under her breath, casting a minor sleep spell on her unseen spy.

But instead of the expected drowsiness, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and the world tilted precariously. When she regained consciousness, she found herself in a room of unimaginable luxury, yet devoid of any windows.

Panic swelled within her. Where was she? What had happened? Did her spell backfire? It wasn't supposed to!? She felt a stare. She quickly turned around meeting...

Malleus, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity, stood before her. "You cannot escape me, my gem," he purred, his voice a silken trap. "You are mine."

Your heart pounded against your ribs. You struggled against the invisible force that held you captive, but it was futile. Malleus had woven an intricate web of magic around her, a gilded cage.

"Of course I would love a shiny prince buutt I like to be my destiny!," she had once declared, her voice filled with youthful bravado. Now, trapped within Malleus's suffocating embrace, she realized the true meaning of her words. Her destiny, it seemed, was to be their yes, not to him but to them, to be their prisoner, forever bound to them by an invisible chain of their magic.

Malleus Draconia:

"You are… different from the others. And I find that rather fascinating."

"A fellow wielder of curses… How curious. What other wonders are you hiding, little fae?"

"Fate has brought us together. Why resist it?"

"You say you walk alone, but I wonder… how long will it take before you realize you belong to us?

Lilia Vanrouge:

"Ah, such a mischievous little thing! You remind me of an old friend~"

"Trouble follows you like a shadow, my dear. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy watching you so much."

"Until you get it right… we’ll just have to keep you close, won’t we?"

Silver:

"You act like you don’t care, but I see the way your eyes light up when you cause mischief."

"I should stay away from you… but for some reason, I can’t."

"You're reckless. Someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself into too much trouble."

Sebek Zigvolt:

"Waka-sama finds you interesting, and that is the only reason I tolerate you!"

"You’re too unpredictable! It’s infuriating!"

"…Stop playing around. If you’re going to stay, then stay by our side."

They wanted to keep you.

No matter how much you try to maintain your independence, the members of Diasomnia are determined to keep you close. You are their dark jewel, a kindred spirit who understands fate and power in a way no one else does.

Diasomnia didn’t simply like you. NO THEY LOVE YOU!

And they will make sure you never forget it.

[cloudedwonder]

yandere stalker! oc (fern) x reader ──★ ˙🧷

“can i brush your hair?” you had asked him, a small heat spreading across your cheeks at the careless question. he tilted his head at you, a look of consideration placing itself upon his features before it was replaced by confusion.

“brush my hair? b-but why? why would you ever need to do that?” he asked.

he paused from where he had been before, his hands coming to a still from the shoulder massage he’d been treating you to. you’d once asked him why he bothered to, and he had told you it made him smile seeing you at ease and in comfort.

he was happy. happy that you were starting to accept your *home* with him.

you gave him a sheepish-half smile, your handcuffs clinking against the frame of the bed as you did so.

“you don’t take care of it. it’s a shame to see such lovely hair being neglected.”

it seemed your sweet talking was beginning to work, red flushing across his face. he gave you a nervous laugh.

“you want to take care of me? my hair’s so messy though… i don’t want it to frustrate you if you can’t brush it out.” he said, but as he did he took out the key for the handcuffs and removed them you gave him a grateful nod, and he lightly helped you caress your wrists.

“i’d like to try anyhow.” you responded.

moments later, he was seated in front of a vanity. many times it had been you sat there, staring into the mirror as he ran his fingers through your hair. he would rub circles into your scalp, as though trying to absorb your every thought, before letting his fingers escape downwards to comb through your hair, before repeating it once more.

it was a change to see the roles reversed.

he suggested you comb out his hair, first and foremost before beginning to brush it. you nodded and told him you’d been planning to do so, and he told you he didn’t mind if you played with his hair as you did so.

his hair felt dry. he had seen you eyeing a hair oil on the desk and as such handed it to you, a small pout on his face.

“this one was supposed to be for you! what a waste to use it on me.” he sighed. the bottle stated it was a blend of rosemary and coconut oil, and the scent was calming.

you swiped the liquid against your hands, before placing them on his head. you patted his head, and as you helped him fix the nest that he had formed there was a comfortable silence held between the two of you.

eventually, he began to hum as you did so. you stared towards the mirror and realised that his eyes were shut. you couldn’t help the thought that he looked truly contented, a small smile present on his face.

he leaned his head backwards into your embrace. it had you feeling at ease, paired with the sound of his pleasant lulls and the texture of his slowly softening hair against your fingers.

over time, the frustrating tangles began to even out. he had paused his humming at a time once he’d noticed you hesitating upon brushing the mess. he had held your hands towards them, telling you to ‘go as harshly as you desired’ before restoring his hums.

“where is that song from?” you had asked.

he paused, and stared at you through the mirror, a calm look on his face.

“my mother. she used to sing it to me at nighttime when i couldn’t fall asleep.”

you let out a sound of acknowledgement, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. there was a calm atmosphere once more, before your curiosity got the better of you.

“you don’t mention going out to see her. does she live far?”

his eyes seemed to glaze over before he responded.

“my father killed her.”

you contemplated what he had just told you, your head slightly tilting at the thought that perhaps it’s explained some of his behaviours. he stared up at you through the mirror, before shaking his head lightly and breaking you out of your small trance.

“but what does it matter? i despise myself for being unable to have saved her, but it taught me everything i know now in order to take care of you.”

the thought made you uncomfortable, though you gave him a small nod. he gave you a small giggle, as though trying to lighten the mood, but he failed to resume with his humming, a silence stretching between the two of you.

eventually you had gotten bored, your motions become slower and slower. he had noticed, directing the both of you into bed. he held you again as though nothing had happened, and you hugged him accordingly as he had told you he liked it.

you heard him humming the same song again as you drifted off, but it lacked the tranquility it had held before, now sounding more as though it were a comfort for the both of you, to take your minds away from the truth the past held. ──★ ˙🧷

[adainesjacket]

Hiiii Happy DADWC!

From the DA Dialogue list for your favorite DA2 pair (platonic or romanticc): “I’m too young to die.” “You have a low-grade fever and a mild infection.” “I can see a spark of light in the dark… this is the end, is it not?”

- asexualtabris 💜

thank you! @inatrice @dadrunkwriting anders/justice/m!hawke (all pre-relationship, fluff and yearning), 899 words

"Did I die?" Anders wondered aloud. His mouth tasted like damp, warm cotton, and his entire body was feverish, yet cooled by the soft dewy grass he was lying on. Lush grass that could never be found in Kirkwall.

"You are asleep," Justice told him, unimpressed. The spirit was sat next to him, cross-legged and equally cross in expression. "You have a low-grade fever and a mild infection, and were too exhausted to heal yourself. I brought you to the Amell Manor where you are now lying in a guest bed."

Anders shot upright and regretted it immediately. Even in the Fade - where he now realised he was - his head spun. "You walked us all the way to Hightown? What if someone had seen?"

"I wore a hood. No one saw."

"That was reckless. You're not usually reckless."

Justice, unimpressed, laid a cool blue hand on Anders's warm brow. "You left me with little choice."

"And you took us to Hawke's? Maker…" A shiver of embarassment made its way through his entire body. "How bad do I look? Am I sweaty?"

"What sort of a question is that? You look like yourself." Justice inclined his head. "Perhaps a little sweaty. As I said, you have a fever."

Anders dropped his head into his hands and mumbled something vicious.

"If it helps," Justice said after a pause, "he does not seem to mind how damp your skin is. His hand is currently on your head."

Peeking through his fingers, Anders asked: "It is? Like he's monitoring the fever?"

"Not exactly." Justice faded a little from view as he made contact with the mortal world, then returned. "Like this." He pushed Anders gently back down on the grass and trailed cool fingers over his scalp.

Anders's breath hitched in his throat. "Are you sure?"

"I am replicating the movements exactly."

"Hawke's stroking my hair." The words sounded ridiculous even as they left his mouth, but Justice would not - could not - lie. "Hawke - Garrett Hawke - 'swing a greatsword and ask questions later' Hawke - is stroking my hair?"

"I would be more surprised if it were Bethany, given her circumstances."

"Hilarious. No, don't stop." Anders nudged Justice's hand with his cheek. "Feels nice."

Justice huffed a sigh, but resumed his clumsy affections without further protest. "It seems your interest in Hawke is returned. Perhaps now you will be less anxious in his presence."

"I'm not - and this proves nothing, except he's… kind to the sick."

"He is also singing."

"He is not."

Anders felt, rather than saw, Justice raise a single eyebrow, and then a voice floated in on the non-existent breeze. A scratchy, gruff voice, belonging to warrior who spoke more eloquently with his fists than with his words, but who was crooning, so softly to be almost inaudible, a Ferelden folk song.

"Die here, huntsman, alone and forgotten…"

The song, which Anders belatedly recognised as Dane and the Werewolf, was not the most comforting of stories. But as it came from Hawke - brusque, shy, stoic Hawke - it felt like the sweetest of lullabies. Anders couldn't recall the last time he'd been sung to sleep. It must have been his mother, a lifetime ago. Had Hawke's mother sung this to him? Had he in turn sung it to the twins he had to help raise, and lose?

Justice resumed petting his hair as the song faded. "When I arrived," he began, " he had no compunctions about taking me in. He ushered us inside with no explanation necessary."

"He wanted you out of sight," Anders offered, cynical. "If someone had seen you-"

"That was not the cause of the urgency," Justice countered, chastising. "He was concerned about your well-being, and immediately offered shelter, as well as dry clothing. I changed our clothes in private," he added quickly, as Anders's mouth immediately opened to protest.

"You almost sound like you approve," Anders remarked, after his racing heart had calmed down. "I thought you weren't keen on my… interest, in him."

"That is not true," Justice corrected. "I disapprove of obsession. Of this anxiety, which takes your focus away from our work. I do not disapprove, in general, of Hawke. He is formidable, and righteous, and a worthy soldier of the cause." Justice's fingers stilled in his hair as he paused, searching for his next words. "He has been good to you. You are my home, Anders. I could not disapprove of anyone who treats you kindly."

Later, Anders would deny there was any kind of lump in his throat as he clambered back up to a sitting position and laid his head on Justice's shoulder. "I assume you're being so nice to me because I am actually dying," he joked.

"As I told you, you have a mild fever-"

"I see a spark of light in the dark…" Anders said, squinting dramatically at the Fade-horizon. "This is the end, is it not?" He stretched out a hand as if to grasp it, and Justice tutted, and dragged him back down.

"I didn't know spirits could tut until I met you," Anders said, once more nestled against his side.

"Your fever has made you ridiculous. Sleep."

"I am sleeping." But Anders closed his eyes, despite arguing, and let his breath even out both in the Fade and in - unbelievably - the Amell Manor, and felt two sets of fingers card through his hair as he slept.

[pumpkinprincess22]

Garroth, Laurance, and Love

So I think for most people Garroth and Laurance are considered the primary love interests in MCD. Along with Zoey I suppose. But the two of them have very different approaches to love/feelings and they are, in my rewrite, the complete opposite to what they seem.

Laurance is the notorious ‘Casanova of Meteli’ all the girls want him he’s a famous flirt. So many things said in a wink and a smile. But he’s very guarded when it comes to his heart. He says to Aphmau in canon that despite his reputation he’s never actually kissed anyone. Laurance is very careful about who he opens his heart to, especially post Nether and Sasha’s betrayal, one of his closest friends and one of the few people outside his family that he truly loved and trusted, Kenmur being the other because I will die on the Meteli gang friendship hill. He flirts with Aphmau at first because that’s just who he is, but he falls for her because she really truly sees him. She trusts him even though she doesn’t appreciate the way he treats her at first and she doesn’t hesitate to help him when he returns from the Nether. He warms to Garroth and Dante too but it takes him a while as with the other PD residents.

Garroth on the other hand loves deeply and easily, perhaps a little too much. He loves his family, and struggles to reconcile his love and hatred for Garte. He falls head over heels for his guard mentor (my OC Kit, Katelyn’s older brother). He cares deeply for the villagers of Phoenix Drop, but he struggles to verbalise his affections especially after his exile. He finds it much easier to show his love through deeds, taking off his helm for Donna’s wedding so that Zane will perform the ceremony, travelling to the Neapolitan villages to help Aphmau, going with Laurance to find Aph during the Malachi’s castle arc, staying behind in the Irene dimension to save everyone.

MCD is fundamentally at its core (to me) a love story in so much as it is a story about different kinds of love. Platonic, familial, romantic, and sexual love (less obviously because of the target audience but i think it’s there) are all explored. Of course it is also a political adventure story but there is still love underpinning that. The lord of scaleswind partnered with O’Khasis because he wanted his daughter back for example.

[thisisafork]

SQUID GAME SPOILERS

im so excited for season 3 i could piss

longest tumblr I’ve ever tumblred before idk what I’m doing

I thought it was the front man at first but they have the player jacket on but whoever it is, gi-hun looks upset so maybe dae-ho went over to tell him he panicked and couldn’t bring back the amo CUZ I DO SEE WHAT APEARS TO BE LONG HAIR SO….

im assuming this is sometime after hyun-ju went back to go get amo, but stayed after realizing it was to late to go back and help the others. I wonder if the coffin has Jung-bae or if it’s just empty I DONT KNOW BUT THEY SEEMED CONCERNED perhaps it’s the guard that first died …..

i think no-eul is going to help Jun-ho stop the games.. we can see her outside LOOKING LIKE A ISLAND HMMM she obviously feels off about the whole thing, especially after she saw gyeong-seok playing the games so she probably feels bad for the people, considering she was one of the only guards to make sure the players actually died and weren’t suffering, so I think no-eul and jun-ho’s story line will be a lot in season 3

the front man is PONDERING. I don’t have a lot to say about him. I think him participating in the games for a little has made him a little emotional thinking about his dead wife, mother and his brother, who is still trying to find him. will he stop the games? NO he’s probably gonna give some speech about the games and how all people want is money and shiii while bleeding out or something like right before his death “life is a squid game”

and brooo MIN-SU IS FUCKEDDDDDD BECAUSE NOW ITS JUST GONNA BE NAM-GYU AFTER HIM, HE WILL EITHER FORCE MIN-SU TO HELP HIM OR TRY TO KILL HIM FIRST. bro literally if he didn’t betray se-mi during mingle his chance of survival would be much higher he only made friends with bad people, i know he was scared and anxious (like most people would be) but now he has no one to help or defend him, yea thanos is also terrible but nam-gyu was always listening and on his side even if he didn’t agree with everything PLUS he knows min-su tried to throw that bottle at him to stop him from killing se-mi so he must be furious at him, i feel like it might be possible nam-gyu will od by accident during season 3 now that he has thanos’s necklace

ok now i’m gonna nap

hoping this makes sense

[writingwhimsey]

Becoming Comtesse Ch. 6

A/N: Just wanted to say that in this chapter Colette's mother has "the talk" with her. Nothing is explicit. Just more or less mentions things. And it is more just about how embarrassed both women feel.

Chapter 6

It was the day before the wedding was to take place. We were having a little dinner party…and it included all of the residents of the mansion. All of the ones that I had yet to meet.

I entered the dining room, wearing one of the other dresses Abel had ordered for me. It was a beautiful deep purple silk one shoulder dress. Mother had helped me put up my hair once again.

Abel immediately came over to me, smiling as he took my hand. “You look absolutely stunning, ma cherie. I knew that shade of purple would suit you.”

I smiled and felt my cheek flushing. “You’re sure the dress isn’t too much?”

“Of course it’s not.” He replied. “Come, I want you to meet everyone else.”

Abel introduced me to the rest of the residents…and I must say none of them were what I was expecting. They appeared to be a rather eccentric group…but that was exactly why I already liked them all.

The last one Abel introduced me to was Leonardo. He was quite tall, but what truly struck me were how he had golden eyes similar to Abel. Leonardo took my hand and gave a kiss to the back.

“It is good to finally meet our cara.” He greeted me with a warm smile, his Italian accent clear.

Abel gave him a look. “Our cara?”

Leonardo chuckled. “What? If she is dear to you then she is dear to the rest of us.” He said. He then looked at me, giving me a wink. “We are like one big disfunctional family around here.”

“Yes and all of us being spoiled by our rich papa.” Arthur chimed in.

I couldn’t help but to laugh. “Does that mean he buys dresses for all of you, too?”

Leonardo and Arthur both laughed out loud at that. “Haha, she has you figured out, Comte.” Leonardo teased.

“That’s not all that I do.” Abel said. “I also buy books.”

“That’s true and we do have an excellent library here.” Leonardo said.

I looked over at Abel. “You didn’t think to tell me about the library?”

“Forgive me, but I didn’t want to lose you to a book, ma cherie.” He teased.

“Depending on the size of the library, that may have been all you needed to show me to get me to stay.” I replied.

Abel chuckled. “Perhaps then, I wanted you to stay because of me.” Though his tone was joking, his words were not. His eyes were warm and told me…that that is what he really wanted.

I felt my face heating up and I returned his smile. “Well…I can’t blame you for that I suppose.”

The little dinner party went on for some time. My mother seemed to take a liking to Isaac. She had been around him all evening and fussing over him.

“That’s quite interesting.” Abel observed from beside me.

“I think it’s because he likley reminds her of my younger brother, Benjamin.” I replied. “He’s also a little shy and prefers studying to socializing.”

“I see.” Abel replied.

As we all talked and ate and drank, I couldn’t stop myself from occasionally rubbing my palm. My scar had been aching off and on since I’d had that dream.

“Cara mia, something wrong with your hand, huh?” Leonardo asked me as he came to join Abel and I, sitting across from us in the parlor. “You’ve been rubbing your palm all evening. Comte can get you a good doctor if there’s something wrong.”

“Oh, it’s not really that there’s anything wrong.” I replied. “It’s just an old scar I have. It aches from time to time.”

“An old scar?” Abel asked.

I held out my left hand. “Yes…when I was younger I had this dream one time and I guess I was sleep walking…I ended up in the kitchen and cut my palm. I had the dream again last night or at least part of it and…now it’s just acting up is all.”

Abel took my hand in his and looked at my palm, his fingers tracing over the scar. His eyes…he seemed almost…I don’t know if I would say sad…but I couldn’t quite think of another word to describe it. Before I could say anything, he was lifting my hand and kissing the scar on my palm…almost reverently.

Where his lips touched my palm, I felt a pleasant tingling sensation running over my skin. He then looked up at me, his eyes warm. “My apologies, ma cherie.”

The look in his eyes told me though it wasn’t necessarily the kiss he was apologizing for. It was almost as if he were apologizing for the scar. I ignored the part of me that thought that however and just focused on what made sense.

“It’s alright…it wasn’t unpleasant.” I said, my cheeks reddening.

Abel smiled at me. “When you say things like that, I may start to think you might be developing a fondness for me, cherie.”

“Well, I can’t say that I dislike you.” I replied, giving him a wry smile. Perhaps…I was growing fond of my husband-to-be.

The party went on for a while longer. I spoke with some of the other residents, getting to know them a little bit. Though I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Jean. He seemed to be even more shy than Isaac.

Abel walked me from the parlor to the bottom of the stairs. Mother was waiting for me in my room. “I shall see you at the alter tomorrow.” Abel said to me as he took my hand and brought it to his lips, placing a featherlight kiss on the back. “Goodnight, ma cherie.”

I nodded. “Yes, I will see you at the alter.” I don’t even know what came over me, perhaps it was the wine or maybe the especially warm look on his face, but I leaned in, stretching just a bit as he was so much taller than me, and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight, Abel.”

When I pulled back, he had a rather surprised look on his face…and if I wasn’t mistaken a slight flush to his cheeks. His surprise melted into a happy smile. “Goodnight, Colette.”

I headed up to my room and I could feel his eyes following me until I was out of sight. It honestly made me feel a little giddy, knowing that I’d had such an effect on him.

“Well, you look happy.” Mother greeted me as I walked into my room.

I smiled. “I think…I am a little at least.”

“You’re growing to like le Comte.”

My mother’s words weren’t a question but I found myself answering anyway. “Yes, I think so.”

“Good. You should at the very least like your husband.” Mother said. “Now come, let’s get you ready for bed and then…we’ll have a little chat.”

“A little chat?” I asked as I moved to start changing.

“Yes, it’s an important talk that all mothers and daughters should have before the wedding.” Mother replied, getting up to help me change.

Once I was in my night dress, Mother and I were sitting on the window seat together. She was holding what appeared to be a large leather-bound folder, tied with a cord, one to hold loose papers together.

“Mother, what is going on and why do you hvae such a serious look on your face?” I asked.

“You see…when I married your father…I had no idea what a weddding night meant or what things were to come.” Mother began. “My mother told me nothing. And I was so naive. I swore to myself that no matter how awkward the conversation…I wouldn’t let my daughters go in so blindly.”

“Why…would this be an awkward conversation?” I asked.

Mother took a deep breath. “Do you recall…the conversation I had with you when you were younger…about self pleasure?”

My cheeks instantly heated up. “Yes…that was such an awkward conversation.”

“Yes, well this one will be more awkward.” Mother said. “Because now… that pleasure will involve your husband…”

“So…he’ll be touching me…” I asked. That…didn’t sound wholly unpleasant. I mean…I knew what I could do myself.

“Well, possibly yes, if he is trying to work you up for the…actual marital act of consumation…”

“What…what does that mean?”

Mother took a deep breath. “Sometimes, things are hard to talk about and easier if I just…show you which is what these drawings are for.” She was then unbinding the cord and pulling out these drawings to show me.

I looked at them as Mother explained them to me. “Wait…he’s gonna put what where? That…that’s really…what it is?”

Mother nodded. “Yes…and the first time for a woman is usually…uncomfortable, but with time and patience it can grow to be something you enjoy doing and it is the only way to make a baby.”

“I…I see.” I replied.

“I know it’s a lot to think about and a lot to take in the night before your wedding…and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It just… it took me a lot to work up the courage to tell you about this. I’ve been carrying those pictures with me for years now in anticipation of you or your sister wedding.”

I looked over at my mother, seeing what strength it took her to tell me about this. It reminded me of the night she explained self pleasure to me. She was red-faced and clearly embarrassed, but she’d wanted to do better for me than her mother had for her.

“Thank you for explaining to me, Mother. I know…this can’t be easy for you.”

“The good news is le Comte seems to be a kind man. I am certain he will be good to you tomorrow night.”

I nodded. Mother stayed with me a bit longer before bidding me goodnight. She left the pictures with me in case I wanted to look them over again.

I picked them up and flipped through them, unable to stop my curiosity from getting the better of me. Looking at these pictures and imagining what my wedding night was going to be…imagining being in such positions with Abel…I felt a mixture of nerves and…excitement.

Comte…

After bidding Colette goodnight, Comte headed to his own room. He removed his jacket, tie, waist coat, and undid the first few buttons of his shirt. Sebastian had a glass of rouge already set out for him.

He sighed as he went over to sit in a chair, picking up the glass. Leonardo was soon walking in. “Getting nervous about tomorrow, Comte?” Leonardo teased. “Your bachelor days are coming to an end.”

“Not nervous.” Comte answered, sipping at the glass of rouge.

Leonardo made his way over to the other chair in the room. “Seems you were right that she thought it all a dream.”

“I had a feeling she would.” Comte replied. “It was such a long time ago…well to her it was anyways.”

“When do you plan to tell her?”

“I…don’t know.” Comte admitted. “I should tell her now, but if she knew the truth would she still marry me? Would she look at me the same? I…I need more time to figure out what is in her heart.”

“You mean to find out if you’re there.”

Comte heaved a sigh as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m quite the selfish bastard.”

“Yeah, you are.” Leonardo agreed. “But you’ve been unable to stop thinking of her all this time. You did wait even when you were certain it was her.”

“I…I fought with myself over it for so long. She deserved a normal life.” Comte replied as he leaned back in his chair.

“Seems like she might not want that though.” Leonardo replied. “Just make sure you tell her before it’s too late, huh?”

Comte let out a wry chuckle. “For all I know, it already is too late.”

Taglist: @zulablaise @violettduchess @kisara-16 @tele86

@otomewonderland @lovely-bubb1es @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady

@obeymetalesandikemen @leiaglamela @fang-and-feather

[lunarruled]

"Miss you? Yeah maybe when Hell freezes over." This time the cutting words are said with a much lighter tone, Kyleigh's small way of apologizing for being rude to him when they first met at the door. Funny they would be at this point now, working together for a few hours then walking out to that same space. She liked it though, the job of course, seeing as she hadn't really gotten to know Leon just yet. Wait until one of them became mad or pissed off about something, then the true colors would come out. Though she had to admit as she walked out of the club with him that she seriously doubted anyone would test the man. A dumbass perhaps, but one look at him and a smart person would apologize and run away. She was proud of herself for getting a chuckle out of him with that joke, happy to see that he didn't get all weird like a lot of other men might. Times were changing and things were a bit more open now but some people would never be okay with the idea (or the joke of) someone of the same sex having feelings for them. "You're right, it is kind of hard to find good help these days and I definitely should have expected that kind of answer from you." One of the half lycan's best senses was her sight and she had hot blood pumping through her veins. So yes she could see he was a handsome man. But that word would never come out of her mouth as long as Leon was within earshot. While the the nudge would have barely moved a fly Kyleigh had to be dramatic about it and act as if it threw her off balance. "Hey! You break you buy Stretch!" She joked with him, reaching into her pocket to grab the keys to her motorcycle. "What exactly is your type then? Wait, let me guess! Tall, blonde, boob size higher than her IQ and a wallet full of some sugar daddy's plastic. Am I close?"

He thought it had been nothing too spectacular, just doing what he felt was right. It was just who he was, maybe as much good deeds as he could possibly do to make up for his past. A feeling he felt would never fade no matter how long he stood on this Earth. There were no hard feelings towards her from their meeting, in a way he could understand it, besides now they were here on much friendlier terms. In fact he swore he saw a smile for a moment before heading back completely to get his things, but he knew better to say anything. Either way, he had no intention of keeping her waiting too long and he was glad to see she didn't just take off without him when he came back. "Pft, you're allowed to say you missed me." Strap on his shoulder from his backpack adjusted as he stood there to let her know he was back, waiting for her to step forward to follow her out. It wasn't hard to leave, they always had their own entrance and exit being employees. And soon they were out into the cool air where ears would ring for a few moments after adjusting to the quiet compared to the thumping noise of the club. Brow furrowed a moment as she assumed his hours, though it wasn't entirely surprising either but they had enough man power for the remaining hours. Hearing that his boss might have a man crush on him, however, made the blond chuckle as his head shook. "You think he has a man crush on me?" He questions with another chuckle. "I just think he likes that I show up to work and do it right. But hey, can't blame him either if he likes what he sees." His grin grows, giving her a little nudge as a tease. "Too bad he's not my type, I won't like breaking his heart."

[deceptivemorals]

She kissed him back, lingering a little longer than she usually would. Then she pulls back, breaking the kiss. He mentions her favourite.... and she has to actively battle her own thoughts about whether or not she deserves a man like him.

"Did I change your mind about love...?"

      it's evident to him that she needs him for emotional support tonight although he doesn't comment on it. instead, he let his thumbs brush lightly against her waist in an attempt to soothe her and fight her inner turmoils.

      "i don’t think you ever had to do that." he suddenly knew what she was referring to. he once told her that he doesn't believe in love. he had not been entirely sincere although it also hadn't been a lie.

      "i know there is love, but there have been times when i forgot that this option exists for me. for me, love is incredibly rare. and perhaps i was convinced, perhaps i still am sometimes, that it's better for me to refrain from love. i..." he paused and gulped slightly, focusing on the brush of his thumbs. he is a man who has concealed such deeper vulnerable emotions successfully. and he knows that there's a dark truth regarding him and love.

      "i tend to doom people. i bring destruction. when you love someone and that person loves you in return you're uniquely vulnerable. they have a power to hurt you that's like nothing else." he knows that they are in a phase where katerina had the power to hurt him if she wants to because he loves her so much. but it's not the thing he worries about.

      "sometimes i'm terrified that i hurt you, that you'll get hurt because of me just because i have feelings for you. i could never forgive myself if something happens to you." if he fails again. he hasn't been in love with her when they first met. he was smitten, yes, but it wasn't yet love. nonetheless he wanted to protect her and he failed. it's one of his biggest worries.

      "and yes, i do have feelings for you. very intense ones. feelings i didn't think i would be capable of feeling again." || @malka-lisitsa