#but the relationship is never the same. reality is... its impossible to have things stay the same indefinitely.

[seirosu]

it's a FANTASY , better than being alone keep me company , don't you ever let go lose my sanity and get lost in the smoke 'cause reality is INEVITABLE

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 30: Realisation

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Many hours later, when the sedation wore off enough for you to open your eyes, Cillian was still there, his eyes fixed on you, a soft smile playing on his lips, his thumb gently stroking your hand.

"Hey. Welcome back," he murmured, his voice soothing as his eyes searched your face for any signs of pain or discomfort.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice, the familiarity, the tenderness, the warmth seeping into you, a comforting balm.

"Hi," you whispered back, your voice raspy but thankfully audible.

Cillian smiled in relief, his fingers tightening around yours, before gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "I thought I lost you," he admitted, the words heavy with emotion.

You blinked slowly, taking in the weight of his confession, before managing a small laugh. "You can't get rid of me that easily," you whispered, and Cillian chuckled lowly at your response, the sound tugging at your heartstrings in ways you couldn't quite describe.

The two of you stayed there, holding hands and exchanging gentle smiles, basking in the comfortable silence that seemed to wrap around you both like a warm blanket. Speaking was still difficult for you and Cillian just wanted to give you some time which was something that you appreciated. 

When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. "How long have I been out?"

Cillian shrugged, his eyes not leaving your face. "All night," he told you and you nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. It wasn't just physical exhaustion, either. There was a heavy weight settling on your shoulders, a weight made up of worry and fear.

"Why can't I feel my leg ?" you asked quietly, your voice barely audible.

Cillian's gaze immediately snapped to your face, his brows furrowed in concern, his grip on your hand tightening.

"The doctors said it's just temporary," he replied, his voice gentle, reassuring. "They had to fix a lot of damage. You lost a kidney and your leg was shattered in the accident, but with therapy, you should be able to walk again," Cillian told you, but his words didn't fully register. You were too caught up in the fear that had taken root in your chest, fear of never being the same again, fear of not being able to live the life you had always envisioned for yourself, fear of losing the things and the people that you cared about.

"Cillian," your voice was small, barely above a whisper, as you looked up to meet his gaze. You could see the worry etched into every line of his face, and it only served to fuel your own fear, threatening to drown you in its depths.

"Hey, it's okay," he reassured you, his voice soft and soothing as he leaned in closer. "You're going to be okay."

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but the doubts and fears that had taken root in your heart made it difficult.

"Were the nerves affected as well?" you asked,tightening your grip on Cillian's hand.

"Yes," Cillian admitted, his voice filled with regret and a heavy weight seemed to settle in the room, suffocating in its intensity. "You might be in a wheelchair for a while, but with therapy , you should be able to walk again," he continued, trying to sound positive but the uncertainty weighing down his voice was impossible to miss. He knew the chances were only sixty to forty and he knew that you knew as well. 

Your breathing grew shaky and you couldn't fight back the tears that threatened to fall. "What if I can't?" you asked, your voice trembling as the fear took hold of you, paralyzing your mind.

Cillian took a deep breath, reaching for you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight embrace.

You buried your face into his chest, letting out a shaky sigh, surrendering the tears you had tried so desperately to hold back. But you weren't ready to accept this new reality.

"Shh, it's alright. Everything is going to be alright," Cillian whispered, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held you, gently rocking you back and forth, soothing your trembling body just as your parents came walking in after having had a rest for a few hours in a hotel nearby. 

"Oh sweetie, you are awake ," your mom exclaimed, hastily crossing the room, as she noticed you crying. Your father stood rooted at the door, a storm of emotion brewing in his eyes, conflicting, torn between his anger towards Cillian and the overwhelming feeling of relief and gratitude that his daughter had woken up.

"I will give you some time with your parents, alright?" Cillian murmured reassuringly, gently messaging circles on your back, offering silent comfort and support before reluctantly releasing you, allowing you to nestle back into the safety of your parent's familiar embrace, wiping away your tears as best he could, before turning around, his eyes meeting your father's confused and angry gaze, his body tense with coiled anger.

"I don't want this man around our daughter," your father mumbled shortly after Cillian had left the room, causing you to sigh heavily.

"Now is not the time!" your mother hissed, glaring at your father with a sharpness that could kill. 

Your father scoffed, his eyes flickering towards the closed door through which Cillian had left, before turning back to you and your mother.

"He is older than me. I looked it up, on my phone. He is still married too," your father continued with a shake of his head, scowling at the thought. "He shouldn't be fooling around with our daughter," he murmured, a hint of hurt in his voice.

Your mother sighed, her eyes closing as she pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly overwhelmed by your father's persistent negativity.

"Stop dad, please ," you pleaded, your voice still weak, but gaining in strength as you spoke. "Cillian did nothing wrong. We love each other, it just happened. We couldn't control it and I don't want to control it," you murmured, your voice stronger now, confident and sincere.

"He defiled your body by agreeing to a risky procedure, with blood from another person now pumping through your veins, putting you in harm's way and at odds with God," your father argued, his voice rising in volume, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Dad, I am sure he made the decision that I would have made for myself, had I the chance," you interjected, lifting your hand in an attempt to shut down his outburst before it spirals out of control.

Your father scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes burning with unsaid words. "He doesn't know you like we do and I don't approve of you being with this man,"  he stated firmly, his voice unyielding.

Your mother sighed and placed a gentle hand on your father's arm. "This isn't the time or place to discuss this," she chided, her voice gentle yet firm. "Our daughter has just woken up after having been a major accident and we're lucky she's alive," she said and your father grumbled under his breath but nodded, conceding to your mother's wise words. They both turned to you, their faces filled with love and concern.

You could see the relief in their eyes, the sheer joy that you were awake, alive, but there was something else too, a wariness, a tension that hadn't been there before.

After a while, this wariness  slithered its way into your mind, plaguing you with question after question, clouding your judgment, and tainting your perspective.

You knew they didn't approve of Cillian, and a part of you couldn't blame them, but the other part, the part that held the majority of your heart, was defiant against their unspoken disapproval, refusing to give in to their demands.

So, you pushed your questions to the back of your mind, focusing instead on your recovery, determined to prove your doubts wrong.

Eventually, Cillian returned to the room, closely followed by a police officer who needed to ask you a few question about the car accident. The investigation was ongoing and the officers wanted to get a clear picture of the events leading up to the accident.

You gave your statement, your mind focused solely on the facts, refusing to let your imagination take over and turn this tragic event into a senseless tragedy fueled by irrational emotions but still you couldn't ignore the fact that, for a while, you had been followed by a black Mercedes.

Each time, you brushed it off as a coincidence but after the accident, this theory seemed highly unlikely.

"There is something else," you told the police officer, your voice hesitant. This was the first time you were speaking about this, admitting this to someone else and the words seemed to stick in your throat, refusing to come. "I think I was being followed," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

The police officer nodded, making a note in his little notebook, before asking you a series of follow-up questions, carefully fishing for details and clues.

You answered each one as truthfully and as accurately as possible, unable to shake the feeling of unease that had taken root in your heart.

After the police officer left, Cillian turned to you, wondering why you had not told him about this before.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, the concern evident in his voice but you simply shrugged, looking down at your hands, unable to meet his gaze.

"I didn't think it was important. In fact, I thought that, maybe, I was being paranoid," you replied softly.

Cillian reached out, gently lifting your chin so that you had to look at him. "It is important," he said firmly while his mind plagued him, wondering whether Danielle had anything to do with this after the verbal threats she had made towards him after he had filed for divorce. And then, suddenly, it hit him like a freight train.  An idea that came out of nowhere but that felt so incredibly right.

Danielle had recently purchased a new car for Max from their joint bank account in the UK. She wanted to gift him the car for his next birthday and once his license was being reinstated. Following a DUI, Max was suspended from driving for three months. Cillian even had an argument with Danielle about her purchasing a new vehicle for him after he had crashed the other, telling her that he needed to learn to take care of himself and the things he owned.  He had no idea of the make or model as Danielle would have used an agent to make the purchase but if his suspicions were correct, then Danielle had crossed a line, a line that could never be uncrossed. He couldn't help but wonder if she would go as far as to kill to get what she wanted.

"I need to go," Cillian muttered, his thoughts consumed by Danielle and the danger she posed.

"What? No, you can't leave," you protested, gripping his hand tightly, unwilling to let him go.

"Please, Cillian. Don't leave me," you begged, your voice trembling with fear and desperation, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and gratitude for the man who had captured your heart so completely.

Cillian hesitated, torn between his desire to stay by your side and his obligation to ensure your safety.

"I promise I'll come back as soon as I can," he said finally, his eyes filled with regret as he bent down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[emswritingsstuff]

Ok now hear me out…

Jealous carol 🤗

Only Me (Carol Peletier x Fem!Reader)

oh i'm hearing you out

note: okay so the savior i mention is actually completely made up for the story. he's named after my best friend (sorry robbie) also i think this is more protective than jealous but uhhhhh, don't worry about it i tried

WC: 0.9k

--

Rick’s plan to bring together all the communities to build the bridge was less than ideal for almost everyone involved. The so-called “Saviors War” had just ended and having to work with them seemed almost impossible. 

It was almost impossible to just forget what the Saviors have done, just let go. But you all at least had to try if you wanted to get this work done. 

Thankfully most of the Saviors have proven to be no trouble, wanting the same thing every other community wanted. But there's always those few outliers, the ones that only cooperated because they would get in trouble otherwise. 

One Savior in particular, you weren’t sure what part of the cause he was on. But you knew he had a thing for you. Oh man was that way too obvious. You found out through one of the Savior leaders his name was Rob. A nice guy you guessed, but all way too charismatic and he didn’t know how to take the hint. 

You had thought you and Carol’s on-going relationship had been obvious. Hell the both of you could barely keep your hands off each other when the day was done. But some people were just too oblivious when they chose to be. 

As the work days kept going, Rob’s flirtatious antics got more and more common. Usually it would just be a comment here and there. But it soon progressed into full blown conversations that you desperately didn’t want to have. 

Attempting to ignore him didn’t work, if you did he would pester you more and more. He was even blatantly ignoring the “I’m in a relationship” facts you told him probably a hundred times by now. He would not let up, no matter how hard you had tried. 

A possible solution to this could be having Rick or Daryl talk to the guy, but you feared that would end in him getting punched into next year. Another solution is having Carol help you out. But she was so defensive, especially when it came to you. And you feared for what she would do upon hearing about that fool. 

So you stayed quiet, opting to resolve the issue by yourself. Which you guessed was futile considering the situation you found yourself in now. 

Sitting outside of you and Carol’s shared tent, you worked on sharpening some dull tools you wanted to still use. You considered this your “break” before having to deal with hauling the wood and actually working on assembling the bridge. 

As you worked on the tools, the all too familiar figure of Rob casted its shadow over you. Dreading the interaction you were about to have. You tried to mentally prepare, which absolutely did not work. 

“Hey pretty lady-” he started, trying to act all sly before you quickly cut him off. “Don’t call me that.” You were snippy, just trying to make him go away. Of course, it never worked with guys like him though. If anything it attracted them more.

He stepped back, hands in the air acting offended. An attempt to be funny. It was almost sad how desperate this man was acting. He was silent for a few seconds before opening his mouth again. All you did in return was desperately focus on your own task. You were successful in tuning him out, ultimately though Rob had managed to bring you back into reality. 

He placed his hand on your shoulder, causing you to jolt up a bit. After he had your full attention, his flirtatious comments started up. He kept complimenting your looks, how pretty you look when you’re focused, et cetera. All the sugar coated comments creeped you out, it was all too much from a guy that barely knew you. 

As you were about to act out on the man, your saving grace. Actually, your guardian angel as you preferred to see it. 

The sudden feeling of Carol's hands on your side made you feel safe. She softly turned you around to look at her, facing you away from Rob. Her expression was soft with you, but got stern every time she took a glance at Rob. 

“Honey, I’m happy to see you. Feels like it’s been ages,” Carol spoke softly. It was loud enough for both you and Rob to hear. Her comment made you smile like a goofball, which Carol loved. She then pulled you in for a soft kiss, something she rarely ever did in front of people. Doing it to prove a point, and also because she missed you so much.

Rob had decided to take his leave while you and Carol were occupied, not even saying a word. A little bit after he left, Carol pulled away from you and placed her hand on the side of your face. Smiling sweetly she began to speak, “that got him away from you hm?” Her comment made you get all red and embarrassed, which only made Carol giggle. “I tried to get him to back off, but it never worked,” you said quietly, a little ashamed of yourself that you didn’t mention this sooner. 

Carol could only giggle again, taking this whole situation more light-hearted than you thought. “It’s not your fault honey. He’s a weirdo.” You nodded in agreement, “tell me about it.”  

“I can’t lie though, I’m jealous he got to be around you more than I could be. And only I can admire you and sweep you off your feet.” Her tone was part humorous and part serious. You almost weren’t sure if she was joking or not, but she was right. She was the only one who could do that. 

“Well, if you get jealous again. I should get more kisses, make it known I’m yours.” Carol’s eyebrow raised at the suggestive comment, she liked it. 

“I can make that happen.”

[redroomreflections]

An Unbreakable Bond

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

The Loud House Universe - Masterlist

Summary: R grieves the loss of her best friend and the gaining of another child all at the same time. A look into how baby number 4 aka Paige came to be apart of the family.

You wake up to the sun streaming through the curtains, casting a muted glow across your room. Your fingers grip the fabric of your bed sheets, the cotton along your fingertips grounding you and helping you stay awake. Your eyes scan the room, the silence is deafening, and this only leaves you with your thoughts. The once-familiar surroundings feel foreign and distant as if the world has shifted while you were lost in a dream. A dream you’ve found yourself wishing never happened. But the heaviness in your chest reminds you that this is no dream—it's your new reality, one without your childhood best friend.

As you lie there, unmoving, you can still hear the echoes of laughter from your shared adventures. Memories cascade through your mind like an old film reel, projecting glimpses of a time when the world was simpler when Karen was alive. But now, those memories sting like salt in a fresh wound, each recollection a bittersweet reminder of what is lost.

Slowly, you force yourself to sit up, peeling back the covers that have become a shield against the outside world. Your feet touch the cold floor, sending a shiver up your spine. It's been a few weeks since Karen's passing, and you haven't mustered the strength to leave your room. The world outside feels irrelevant, colorless, and devoid of meaning.

The once-vibrant walls of your bedroom now seem to enclose you, suffocating and trapping you in a cocoon of grief. The world beyond these four walls holds no appeal, no comfort. Life without Karen feels dull, like an unfinished painting stripped of its colors.

There are so many promises you made to each other. So many things you still had yet to explore. Life was not supposed to end like this. Things weren’t supposed to be this way and yet they are. You glance at the desk in a corner of your room, cluttered with remnants of your shared adventures—the photographs, the handwritten notes, the trinkets collected over the years. Each item holds a story, a fragment of your bond with Karen. But the weight of those memories presses down on your heart, making it harder to move.

You slide back under the covers, burying yourself in a cocoon of despair, as you close your eyes. It hurts to think. It hurts to breathe. It simply hurts. You refuse to cry. You don’t think there is anything left within you. Partly because you’re dehydrated. Natasha has attempted to get you to eat or drink something this week. It hasn’t happened. You can’t force yourself to do the impossible.

As you continued to navigate through your feelings, you found yourself tangled in a web of emotions, one of which was an overwhelming sense of guilt. Despite your best intentions, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had failed as a friend. The weight of Karen’s pain rested heavily on your shoulders, and you began questioning every action and decision you had made throughout your relationship.

You replayed memories in your mind, desperately searching for signs that you had missed or opportunities you had overlooked. You scrutinized every word, every gesture, and every moment of your friendship, looking for any indication that you could have done more. The what-ifs and should-haves began to consume your thoughts, amplifying your sense of inadequacy.

With each passing day, your guilt grew, intertwining itself with your grief. You couldn't escape the nagging belief that you had let your friend down, that you had been blind to her pain, or that you hadn't offered enough support. The weight of these emotions made you feel like a terrible friend, unworthy of the bond you had once shared. If only you’d waited another hour. If only you’d stayed with her through it all. She was your best friend and you were supposed to know her better than that. You were supposed to see the signs. Karen’s health deteriorated in only an hour. Only a small amount of time. You would live with those feelings forever.

Natasha entered the room, her heart was heavy with grief for Karen. She knew that you were lost in your thoughts, consumed by sorrow. Natasha understood the pain you were going through, but she also knew that life had to move forward, especially for the sake of the children.

With a deep breath, Natasha approached you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "Hi, baby,” She says softly to catch your attention.

You have the decency to respond. “Hi,” You say just as quietly.

“How are you feeling?” She asks but immediately feels stupid at the sight of your wobbling lip.

“Like shit,” You turn your gaze back to the pile of Karen’s stuff on your desk.

“I’m so sorry,” Natasha frowns. She rubs soothing circles into your back. You melt into her touch. Through all of this Natasha has been your rock. She’s been there for you through all of it. Sometimes you think you don’t deserve her either.

“I know you're hurting right now,” Natasha treads lightly. “and I can't even begin to imagine how difficult this is for you," she began, her voice filled with empathy. "But we have to take care of ourselves and the kids. They need us."

Your eyes were filled with tears as you glanced up at Natasha. "I... I can't," you whispered, your voice choked with sadness. "I can't even think about eating right now. It feels wrong."

Natasha's heart ached for you, but she knew she had to find a way to break through your grief. She crouched down beside you and spoke softly, "I understand, y/n I really do. But remember, the kids need their mom. They need you to be there for them, even in this difficult time."

Your gaze shifted toward the bedroom door, where the children were quietly playing. Your eyes welled up with fresh tears, torn between your own pain and your responsibilities as a mother. Natasha continued gently, "Cara, Charlie, and James—they're just kids, y/n. They don't fully understand what's happened, but they know something's wrong. They need their mom's love and care more than ever. I bet it would make them happy if you came out. Only for a little while.”

As if on cue, the sound of laughter and playful giggles drifted into the room from the kids' corner. Your face softened, a flicker of warmth breaking through your sorrow. You wiped your tears and nodded slowly, acknowledging Natasha's words.

“I’m not ready,” You whisper brokenly.

“It’s okay,” Natasha nods. “She’s sleeping.” She reveals. She knows what you meant.

“What’s she like?” You find yourself asking. The guilt hits you tenfold. You’d fought for custody of Karen’s baby. You’d wanted the child. That sweet little baby and you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her at the moment. You wonder if you did the right thing. It’s what Karen wanted. You’re already failing her.

"I cannot begin to describe the sheer beauty," Natasha says, her words infused with a sense of reverence. "She is a tiny spitfire. Just like her mom."

You lean in closer, your heart swelling with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. You close your eyes, trying to imagine her. Natasha's words paint a picture in your mind, and you yearn to know more about the little life that now graces your world.

"She has perfect little features," Natasha continues, her voice a soft caress. "Her eyes they’re so wide and curious already. And her nose, oh y/n, it's the cutest nose I’ve ever seen."

You find yourself holding your breath, captivated by Natasha's description. The image of Paige begins to take shape in your mind, a vision of grace and innocence.

"Her skin, y/n it's as soft as a well a baby’s bottom," Natasha murmurs, her fingertips gently brushing against your cheek.

A surge of tenderness washes over you, your fingertips tingling with the urge to touch and hold the infant.

"And her hair," Natasha whispers, her voice barely audible. "She has a full head of hair. We’re going to have fun with that. Think she’ll let us brush it?" It’s a play to get you involved.

“Not a chance,” You shake your head. “If she’s anything like Karen she’ll scream her lungs away.”

You finally allow your fingers to brush against Natasha’s hand before grasping it.

Natasha looks at you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears of joy. "She may be small, but she is perfect," she says, her voice filled with unwavering certainty. "She needs you too.”

“I haven’t felt like this since,” Your voice trails off. She knows what you’re talking about. “I know it’s different. Losing…” You shake your head. It still hurts to say. “Versus losing an already alive and fully grown human.”

“I know,” Natasha nods.

“Can I have a bit more time?” You ask, afraid of her answer, as tears well in your eyes again. This time you can see Natasha’s own grief shine through as she bites her lip.

“Of course,” Natasha nods again.

“Thank you for taking care of everything,” You sigh. “I just need more time. A little more time.” You avoid her gaze. Natasha watches you for a second longer before she leans forward. She presses several soothing kisses to your forehead before she pulls away. She would leave you alone for now.

*******************

The room is shrouded in darkness. You lie in bed, lost in a world of dreams when a faint sound interrupts the stillness of the night. It's a whimper, a tiny cry that tugs at the depths of your consciousness.

As you slowly emerge from the realm of slumber, you realize the sound is coming from the baby monitor placed on the nightstand beside you. Reluctantly, you open your eyes, the weight of sleep still heavy upon you.

The whimper grows louder, more insistent, tugging at your heartstrings and dissolving the remnants of your drowsiness. You look over to Natasha who’s sound asleep. You won’t wake her. Despite your weariness, a surge of parental instinct courses through your veins, propelling you to action.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool touch of the floor beneath your feet. In the dim light, you make your way toward the kitchen, navigating the familiar path with practiced ease.

With each step, you fight against the urge to retreat back to the warmth of your bed, to surrender to the comfort of sleep. But the cries of your little one echo through the silence, reminding you of the responsibility and love that now intertwine your life.

Reaching the kitchen, you flick on the light, banishing the shadows that cling to the corners. The soft glow illuminates the countertops and the shelves stocked with baby essentials. Your gaze falls upon the array of bottles, waiting patiently to be filled with nourishment.

You sigh a mixture of weariness and determination escaping your lips. With practiced efficiency, you gather the necessary items, ensuring everything is clean and sterilized. The soft clink of glass against glass fills the room as you assemble the components, preparing the nourishment that your little one craves. You don’t think about anything else at the moment. Only about feeding Paige.

As you work, the fatigue threatens to pull you under, to claim you once again. But then, as if sensing your presence, the cries begin to soften, transforming into an intermittent whimper. It's as if the sound itself gives you strength, a reminder that you are needed, that you are the source of comfort and care.

Finally, the bottle is ready, its contents warm and inviting. With renewed purpose, you make your way back upstairs to the nursery, guided by the faint sounds of your baby's distress.

Entering the room, you find the crib bathed in soft moonlight. Your eyes meet the wide, angry fists and screwed-up features of Paige. You approach the crib with measured steps, your touch gentle yet confident.

The cries pierce through the silence, reverberating through the room, and each wail echoes within your heart. Paige's pitiful cries tug at your weary soul, stirring a mix of emotions that swirl and clash within you. The weight of guilt settles upon your shoulders, a constant reminder of the loss that still lingers.

As you stand before her, your eyes locked on her tiny body, a wave of hesitation washes over you. A gnawing guilt gnashes at your insides, threatening to consume your resolve. How can you, in good conscience, step into the role of a parent when Karen's presence remains so vivid in your memories?

How can you be half the mother to this little girl that Karen would have been? She’d probably curse you out right now. Give you an incredibly childish wet Willie and yell at you to pick up her baby. She’s probably shaking her head in disgust at you right now. Maybe she finds this a bit funny. After all this time you think you wouldn’t be good enough for her. For her baby? You walk back towards the door with plans to wake up Natasha.

Amidst the turmoil, a flicker of determination sparks within your being. You remember Natasha's unwavering faith, her belief in the power of love, and the possibility of healing. Her words from earlier reminded you how much your family needs you.

You approach the crib where Paige lies, her tiny form wriggling and crying, her rosy cheeks flushed with need. Her cries strike a chord of vulnerability within you, unraveling the walls of guilt that you have meticulously built. Tentatively, you reach out, your hand hovering above her.

As if sensing your presence, Paige's cries grow more urgent, more desperate. The weight of responsibility bears down on you, a heavy burden that you are unsure you can carry. But then, amidst the clamor of doubt, a flicker of tenderness blossoms within your heart.

You gather Paige into your trembling arms, her cries softening as she nestles against your chest. She turns her open mouth towards your breasts, rooting for any source of food, and you swear her cries become angrier when she realizes there is none. The warmth of her tiny body against yours becomes a balm, soothing the jagged edges of your guilt-ridden soul. You find solace in the embrace, a connection that transcends the boundaries of grief and guilt.

“Shh, it’s okay,” You kiss her little forehead, your lips lingering against her cool skin. “It’s okay. Auntie’s here.” You whisper soothingly.

Paige's eyes, filled with innocence and trust, meet your gaze. In those depths, you see a reflection of the love that once united you with Karen, a love that still resides within your heart. You might sound crazy. It all makes sense in your head. With tears streaming down your cheeks, you cradle Paige close, offering her a tender smile born from a place of both brokenness and resilience.

As you settle into the rocking chair, holding Paige close to your chest, you place her bottle into her mouth and her cries subside, replaced by the gentle sound of contented suckling. The rhythmic rise and fall of her tiny breaths become a soothing lullaby, a reminder of the precious life entrusted to your care.

With a tender smile, you begin to share a story—a story of love, adventure, and the remarkable person that Karen was. You want Paige to know her mother.

"Hey little one," you speak softly, your voice carrying a blend of nostalgia and affection. "Let me tell you about your mommy, about the incredible person she was."

Paige gazes at you, her dark eyes bright with curiosity, as if she's trying to decipher the meaning behind your words. A glimmer of hope dances within your heart, believing that somehow, in her own innocent way, she understands the weight of the tale you're about to weave.

"Your Mama, she was a force of nature," You continue, your voice laced with a mixture of fondness and longing. "We did the most absurd things together, Paige. We would embark on spontaneous road trips, dye each other’s hair, and sneak out. Something you’re definitely not doing."

You paint vivid pictures with your words, describing the exhilarating moments of freedom you shared. The wind rushing through open windows, the laughter that echoed through the mountains, and the sense of invincibility that only a true adventure can bring.

"We got into our fair share of trouble too," You chuckle, the memories alive in your mind. "Karen had a mischievous streak that was infectious. We would explore abandoned buildings, climb trees just to see the world from a different perspective, and make memories that would last a lifetime."

Paige's tiny hand twitches, as if in response to the excitement in your voice. You pause for a moment, caught between the bittersweet longing for the past and the immense love that now fills your heart.

"But you know, Paige," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "As daring and adventurous as your mommy was, she had the biggest heart. She had this incredible ability to make everyone around her feel seen and loved. She had this way of finding beauty in the simplest of moments, and she taught me to do the same."

You watch as a smile tugs at the corners of Paige's lips, her expression mirroring a happiness that transcends words. You know she’s still too young but you’d like to believe she’d save this moment just for you. In that fleeting moment, you believe that Karen's spirit lingers, that her love somehow reaches out to touch her precious daughter.

"I wish you could have known her, Paige," You say, your voice tinged with a mixture of joy and sorrow. "But I promise you, my love, I will share every memory, every story, and every fragment of her spirit with you."

Paige blinks, her eyes fluttering with the innocence of infancy. You cradle her close, feeling the weight of the past mingling with the promise of the future. In the depths of her gaze, you find solace, knowing that the love you have for Karen will forever be intertwined with the love you have for Paige.

In the quiet sanctuary of that moment, as the world outside fades into the background, you carry what you have left of your friend. You would cherish her always.

(I always wonder how life would be for them if Paige or any of the children actually didn't end up with them).

[projectjasper]

there is something very specific about certain "no homohobia in this world" series that just inherently does not work for me. like, typically, i love a little homophobialess situation. i love a romcom that just lets my queer characters be happy and in love or a main plot which has nothing to do with romance but which has a gay couple at its centre just being in love and doing their thing. in the right circumstances, in the right bubble, those kinds of series aren't even unrealistic. or they at the very least remove the possibility of homophobia rearing its ugly head in a way that feels like it is freeing me from its disgusting presence rather than invalidating my experiences with it.

but whenever it comes to something that is impossible to divorce from how it affects us in the real world because of how deeply homophobic society is, it just stops working for me. a gay relationship that's forced to be kept a secret will never not make me think of being forced to stay closeted and how not only historically, but in many places and circumstances still queer people simply do not even have the option to be in an open relationship because of homophobia. a gay relationship being revealed by someone else before one or both parties are ready will never not make me think of getting outed and the horrific implications of it in our homophobic world.

i don't know if this is sad or what, but to me these kinds of plots feel deeply disingenuous and make the kind of relationship that i actively seek out in media because it is relatable to me completely unrelatable, but with an additional sense of betrayal. when i watch a straight couple go through a secret relationship, for instance, the lack of relatability is not surprising at all - in fact, it is relatable in its lack of relatability in a way, because it clearly demonstrates experiences that are inaccessible to me because of the deep roots homophobia has in our history, culture, and society. but a secret gay relationship being treated exactly the same as a secret straight relationship evokes this sense of betrayal in me because of how heavily divorced from our reality it is. because certain situations and circumstances, if you attempt to divorce them from the struggle against homophobia, become so deeply fantastical, they no longer feel like they represent me at all. and that's kind of the whole thing about my yearning for media about people like me. it's the yearning to feel understood and represented.

[sakuraxxharu]

A little fanfic i have about God Apollo.

Apollo × Reader

Summary: You fell in love with the God of Sun and now you don't know what you should do.

Themes/Warnings: Relationship with a god, you fell first he fell harder, cheating, slightly angst

Word Count: 666

Notes

Part 1

(I hope you like it. It's kinda short since it is just a beginning.)

What were you expecting when you fell in love with a god? You weren't sure, but one thing was certain: your expectations had nothing to do with your current reality.

You had made a mistake—a big one. Falling in love with Apollo, the Sun God, was a terrible idea, especially as a mere mortal. But how could you resist him as a simple human? He was the most beautiful of the gods, and every word he spoke brought a warmth to your heart. Watching him was like witnessing the most stunning view in the world—no, the universe. Yet you had overstepped your bounds. Unlike the countless beings secretly in love with him, you genuinely wanted him. Just sleeping with him or catching his attention wasn’t enough; you hoped he would feel the same way about you as you did about him. And that's where you failed miserably.

No matter what, Apollo was the son of Zeus, renowned throughout history for his lovers and tragic love stories. What made you think you were special?

You were certain this would be a secret and a one-sided love story. The gods hadn’t descended from Olympus for centuries; seeing Apollo in person was practically impossible.

It would take time for you to realize that the word 'impossible' didn’t exist in a god’s vocabulary.

On a hot summer day, you walked down a forest path to the river. Your plan was to wash the clothes in your basket and then take a bath.

You knew nymphs lived in this area, but they avoided being seen by humans and would hide whenever they sensed one nearby.

So, you were surprised when your ears caught the most beautiful melody you had ever heard. Was it the nymphs? You had never witnessed anything like it before, so you hid behind a tree and began to watch.

Yes, the nymphs were there, but you didn’t even bother looking at them. There was someone who made it impossible for you to take your eyes off him. A young man with curly, somewhat long, golden hair cascading over his sun-kissed broad shoulders... His long, elegant fingers danced across the strings of a golden lyre he held in his hands. You thought he must be the most beautiful sight a mortal could ever behold. His tall, muscular body was stretched out under a willow tree.

After only a few seconds of observation, the young man lifted his head, and his peridot-green eyes locked onto yours.

You froze. You’d been caught. What were you supposed to do?

Thankfully, the young man turned his head toward the nymph speaking beside him. Taking advantage of this, you picked up your basket and ran as quietly as possible back up the path and out of the forest.

Who was he? He didn’t look human. Perhaps he was a male creature similar to the nymphs. Or was he a god? You weren’t sure; you had never seen a god outside the statues in temples.

After running for about ten minutes, you sat on a large rock to catch your breath. Running a distance that usually took 30 minutes to walk, all while carrying a heavy basket, had taken its toll on your body.

You set the wicker basket down next to the rock and began taking deep breaths. While your hands rubbed your scalp, you couldn’t stop thinking about the mysterious man. His eyes, the way his fingers danced across the lyre strings—it was impossible to forget. You knew you couldn’t stay after being noticed, but that knowledge didn’t ease the guilt you felt for not sitting down and continuing to watch him. When would you ever see something so beautiful again?

The sudden warmth you felt on your skin made you lift your head. Sunlight filtered through the tree leaves, falling on you as if trying to mark you. The intense rays made you squint.

Suddenly, a voice from behind made your heart race.

'Don’t you know it’s rude to spy on others?'

[velvetvexations]

Stalking, non-con, gore, drugging, raceplay, and cartoonish body horror anons under the cut!

if we're still doing kink asks: I have kind of a yandere kink but I'm the aggressor. I'm bipolar and probably bpd so really its just sexualizing my own mental illness, but I think about stalking someone's social media, slowly gathering everything about them from what they post online and then 'casually' bumping into them in person to force a meet-cute where I make myself seem like the perfect partner. I'm charming and polite and like all the same things they do and gosh your hair is so nice today. I just love your outfit. it looks... really good. I start slow so it doesn't come on too strong but we just keep running into eachother, so really it must be fate, huh? In reality I've ramped up the stalking. I keep taking photos of them on the street, ripping selfies off social media to jack off to because I can't help myself. really I'm trying so fucking hard to be *patient* and they should appreciate it, but I know they won't and god that just pisses me off. I'm putting in all this work for our relationship and theyre so fucking ungrateful. I've seen all the dumb video with that friend of theirs that clearly wants to fuck them and it just burns in my gut. They shouldn't be smiling at other people like that. they should only be happy with me or what fucking good are they? You know, so many people are way too trusting. You really shouldn't trust locks as much as you do. You shouldn't trust your neighbors to do anything if they hear you scream. And you really shouldn't trust some person you just met on the street a couple months ago. And then I keep them chained in my basement 24/7 stewing in their own filth until they apologize for upsetting me and admit they always loved me and wanted to be my stay at home spouse. it's tough love, but if they didn't push me to all of this then I wouldn't have to completely psychologically destroy them first. really its their fault I did all of this. then from there it spins out into a version of stepfordization kink where I make them into the perfect 50s style house spouse and bend them over my knee if dinner isn't ready on time because God is like they don't care about our relationship at all. aren't you even thinking about how this makes *me* feel? and all the while they're chained by a collar or the ankle to our marital home and aren't allowed outside at all until they get everything right to my impossible and capricarious standards. It's okay, honey. I know youre trying your best. Here, you can come make it up to me by doing XYZ, where XYZ is engaging in some fetish that specifically grosses them out and makes them uncomfortable, not because it gets me off but because they should be as upset as they upset me to properly apologize. and if they don't they can alway go back into the basement to relearn their manners. 💜

jeezy weezy anon yeah ditto to all that word-for-word

"not because it makes them uncomfortable but because they should be as upset as they upset me to properly apologize" you get it

I dont really like impact play but god damn by blood play kink is Bad. sometimes I just wanna cut someone open and feel the exact place that my dick is in them ya know?

I don't but God bless you, you're valid.

I really want a ----. Someone entirely in latex and leather that isn't really a person anymore, just a giant sex toy that I can drug and disorient and torture however I like. we don't *really* need a safe word, do we? Toys don't get to say no. God just imagining being too rough with someone in a ---- suit and ignoring when they safe word again and again because why the hell would a toy get to choose when we're done? Woof.

(that's considered a slur these days so I'm censoring it but I am not personally judging you for having used it anon)

I've never been into latex or leather but I appreciate the place it has in BDSM history and culture.

Kink confession: I’m super into raceplay. I’m a white woman and on the submissive side, so I’m right there with your other anons with kinks they struggle to find content for (stuff like BNWO is *so* targeted towards white *men*)

Porn in general is so rarely made for women. It's really weird sometimes.

I'm into vore, but only as the feedy. what I wouldnt give to have something wiggling in my stomach while I jack off. Or, you know how some people do cock vore/unbirthing? that but for my boobs. prying my nipples open and crawling inside to wiggle around until they become more boob or maybe milk when I come. I would also accept softer forms where they go in to help me have milky boobs by stimulating the nerves or w/e but they get sprayed out by the deluge

I have no idea what to say except "fascinating"

[denimbex1986]

'An oft-quoted piece of advice for writers is to write what you know. What does a lonely person know except loneliness? All of Us Strangers opens on Adam (Andrew Scott), amber flesh reflected against an empty London. He lives in a polite new build, with sharp edges, rich coloured furniture and a humourless reception. Adam’s friends have largely moved out of London to raise kids and be close to their families, while he has neither. Orphaned at twelve, he finds himself alone, eating biscuits and attempting to write a script.

Andrew Haigh adapts Taichi Yamada’s 1997 novel Strangers dispensing with the viciousness of the book’s ghosts to distil a much more primal idea: how impossible it feels to solve loneliness. In her book The Lonely City, Olivia Laing writes that there is a “particular flavour to the loneliness that comes from living in a city, surrounded by millions of other people”. She is writing about New York, a city she moved to for a man who quickly abandoned their relationship. Adam’s lonely city is London, cold and abstract. His building is empty, or at least it feels empty. David Foster Wallace’s short story The Depressed Person opens asserting that “the impossibility of sharing or articulating this pain was itself a component of the pain”. The shapelessness of loneliness is addressed by Laing too. She writes about it as a “state of lack”, a state of being defined by a sharp absence, something “difficult to confess; difficult too to categorise.” What to do then, except to stay quiet.

I bring up Wallace’s story because it gets to its vicious point very quickly: the cyclical, self-cannibalising experience of being depressed. It’s easier, it seems, to write about feeling something. Much harder to write about, let alone visualise, the experience of a void, which All of Us Strangers does elegantly, holding loneliness in its colours, heartless cityscapes and the faces of its protagonists. And reflections, everywhere, as reminders of its protagonist’s aloneness.

When visiting his parents’ old house on a whim, or perhaps to seek writerly inspiration, Adam finds them alive. Memory and reality collapse into one another when he meets his mother (Claire Foy) and father (Jamie Bell), aged and dressed and sounding the same as they did the year they died, preserved, as they were when Adam was a kid, and made flesh once more. Back in their house, in his childhood home, the illusion of fullness is so seductive for a lonely person. All of Us Strangers doesn’t care much for supernatural explanations, and is all the better for it. Memories are their own ghosts.

No amount of therapy will be able to solve the insurmountable divide between parent and child, neither able to accept the other as a creature independent of oneself. All of Strangers’ most fanciful conceit is the possibility of a conversation of equals between parent and child: painful and true, sometimes full of mutual disappointment. The film, at its most poignant, imagines this conversation as a conduit for the closing of a wound that’s long scarred over. When Adam speaks to his parents, there is a tepid resentment that vibrates just under the surface of Andrew Scott’s performance. How sad and how lovely things can be in the same instant.

Until this encounter, Adam kept his memories in a small box, a litter of photos of the parents never saw him grow up. The structures we are told are antithetical to a lonely life – family, romance, friendship – seemed out of reach. When Harry (Paul Mescal) knocks at his door, boozy and lusty-eyed, it’s no surprise Adam is terrified. In this first meeting in the doorway, they both seem mildly feral, their words scratchy like they haven’t spoken to anyone in months. How to describe an absence? What is its texture? From a lonely perspective, everyone else’s life is full and vibrant and pain-free. Loneliness always feels exclusive to the lonely. While Adam is not depressed, he is resigned. “How do you cope?” Harry asks him, and he doesn’t give an answer because there is none. Adam and Harry, each in their own apartment, which might as well be different planets, incapable of articulating the shape of their lack. Not at first. The only choice available, it seems, is to remain alone, lacking.

When you find yourself lacking, you try to fill that obsessive emptiness inside. Maybe booze, drugs, sex, or work. People, too. When Harry shows up clutching a bottle of Japanese whisky, the stink of desolation is felt through the screen. He is made up of rough edges, a sketch of a character who would be inaccessible and cold if played by someone other than Mescal, who is able to map terrible pathos onto Harry’s jittery, needy movements. Harry, though younger than Adam, is weighed by a similar shame, that of not mattering. Neither of them blame anyone in particular for their feelings of un-belonging. Crushingly, they just accept it. In a Q&A, Paul Mescal described his character as having “a great capacity for love with a great tolerance for his own pain.” Harry is a deeply lonely creature who has become used to dismissing his own importance. One single detail in the film sends me over the edge: Harry’s hand, placed on his own side, hugging himself.

Loneliness sticks to your skin. But one person’s loneliness does not, necessarily, solve another’s. After Adam eventually does let Harry in, literally, into his house, and figuratively, into his life. When they kiss, Adam forgets how to breathe. He needs coaching back into touch, which Harry provides with careful tenderness. Harry’s presence becomes a gateway out of the lack for Adam: his insistence on being present, on talking to and touching him, on asking questions. There are less reflections. Less abstracted, lonely cities. He slowly guides Adam back into feeling things - touch, desire, fun - even when he could not do that for himself.

Laing writes that loneliness creates a “self-protective amnesia”. That, once no longer lonely, the lonely person won’t be able to remember (or empathise with) loneliness. At the end of All of Us Strangers, Adam is still alone, just like at the start, but he will remember Harry - and he will remember the shape of loneliness.'

[snailsgoingdowntown]

i loved your latest bsd work! also its v realistic (at least for me) bc i keep seeing these works of like, staying with them through thick and thin and while it is cute! kinda unrealistic 😭 i hope u have a good day 🫶

Gdhd thank you!!!

It really is unrealistic. A lot of people, myself included, would make the argument that everything would turn out alright if you would just stay. But that's neither healthy nor possible (majority of the time). Obviously yes, in some cases that works, but in many more it just won't.

I would know, because once upon a time I tried to stay with someone who was just... Toxic. It was not good for my mental health and I stayed up all night barely getting three hours of sleep in talking them out of well... Yeah.

The amount of times I cried and had mental breakdowns on the daily was not. Ideal. But it was exactly the memories of that, that made me think: "a relationship with these characters is impossible."

They have may issues that many people are just not equipped to handle, either because they were never told how or because they simply can't, regardless if they're in the same situation/have the same thoughts/feelings as these characters.

Like, realistically, ik many people would not be able to deal with Dazai. I wouldn't be able to, that man would make me fall down into a pit of despair where I return to my old habits and thoughts I don't want to go through again.

Kunikida would be horrible to deal with, at least Dazai would make a person laugh. He's way too strict and I have a fear of people like that, not only that, he tends to speak with his chest out in a loud voice. That's not a bad thing, but for him specifically, it makes him feel unapproachable, to me at least. If you're caught up with the manga, then you know how Aya's dad is, and I am afraid of him becoming like that if he were to ever find a lover or have a kid. Sure, it wouldn't be on purpose, but realistically, there is a decent sized chance that MIGHT happen.

I wouldn't be able to deal with Ranpo, we'd get into fights 24/7. He would make me cry and I would punch his face.

Chuuya... Haha, I honestly can't see him with anyone. Dazai and the sheep probably ruined that for him, along with that one guy in stormbringer who's name I forgot. They're lucky he still has trust in him for them.

Aku and higuchi are a very toxic dual, and keep in mind she likes him the way he is. So imagine if her affections were to shift to someone new, and based on how obsessive she is with him, it would probably be the same story, and remember, in one side story, she literally used her off day to stalk him. Not only that but she wanted to kill Gin simply because she THOUGHT she was romantically involved with Aku. And she did a total 180 when she found out she was his sister.

Tbh I think Gin would make a better choice for Higuchi cuz at least she doesn't slap her around.

But yeah, a relationship with any of these characters would probably be impossible for most, not all, but most. It's always good to be there for people, but please set boundaries, know your limits.

But yea, that's the joy of fan fiction, you can make anything work in fiction. But in reality it probably wouldn't. But fiction is nice. Idek what I'm saying anymore, it's 3am, but thank you for the ask and remember to take care of yourself too!!

[liaromancewriter]

How different would book 1 be if your MC were in a relationship when she started her intern year? Would she had still fallen for Ethan? Would it be during the same timeline or would it have taken more time? Would she end her relationship before crossing any lines? Or do you think it might take a line being crossed for her to end the relationship? How different would Miami, late nights working with Ethan, the Opera and the ethics trial would be?

I've been thinking about my response ever since I got the question. I also visualized an opening scene for a fic that would suit this scenario. I don't have the rest, so I'll answer what I can. (It's long, so you're warned -- 😬)

This is specifically for Cassie Valentine as I've developed her, rather than MC in general.

How different would book 1 be if your MC were in a relationship when she started her intern year?

The professional/hospital sections of book 1 would have been similar with slight variations in terms of background. The personal parts of book 1 would be very different.

Would she had still fallen for Ethan?

I often say that Ethan and Cassie are inevitable in every universe but one. But, the reality is that circumstances play a role in bringing two people together or keeping them apart.

In this scenario, it could go either way. However, it would also depend on the type of relationship Cassie was in: casual vs commitment.

If Cassie was in a serious and committed relationship, she wouldn't necessarily have seen Ethan as a potential love interest. He would have been Dr. Ramsey, attending and medical hero. She'd want to impress him and have him mentor her.

It would never occur to her to see him as anything else. She would be secure in her relationship and have no reason to think Ethan saw her as anything but an intern.

In this scenario, she and her boyfriend would have lived together. The person I have in mind would have been from her social circle and he would've split his time between Boston and DC because he could.

The two of them would also be a unit, and she'd have him as part of her support system in addition to her friends/fellow residents. Residency is tough. So, while she would not have lived with the Roomies, but they would still be her friends.

In my original hc, Cassie was often lonely in year one because of being away from home, falling for Ethan and knowing it wasn't possible. She tried to date, but nothing stuck because her schedule was intense. And a part of her pined for Ethan so that she didn't register interest from other men.

Conversely, if she was casually dating with no expectations of exclusivity, book 1 events would have transpired as we saw them. Cassie might try to balance dating with residency, but she'd make it clear that her work came first.

Here, she would have definitely noticed Ethan as an attractive man and not simply as Dr. Ramsey. One reason is that she would give herself permission to be attracted to him. So if it was a casual thing, she wouldn't necessarily see her attraction to Ethan as cheating. And she wouldn't be afraid to tell him how she felt.

Would it be during the same timeline or would it have taken more time?

Maybe their timing would sync up according to canon. Or maybe they realize much later that they're perfect for each other, if at all.

If she was in a committed relationship, it would have taken more time for them to come together. Ethan would probably be the one pining and telling himself it's impossible.

After her residency ends, she decides to stay in Boston and on the Diagnostics team. I can see their friendship eventually turning into something deeper because of how much they have in common. It's not that her other relationship is bad; it's just run its course and residency combined with fellowship changed her.

If Cassie was casually dating but not interested or serious about someone, I see them following canon, either mine or the original. But they would definitely be official after the poison attack. Moments like that remind them that life can be too short to not go after what you want.

Would she end her relationship before crossing any lines? Or do you think it might take a line being crossed for her to end the relationship?

Cassie takes commitment very seriously. She would definitely end a serious relationship before crossing any lines, and let time lapse before pursuing Ethan. It would be the respectful thing to do, and also gives her time to figure herself out.

In the casual dating scenario, it might take a line being crossed for her to end things with someone she'd been seeing on and off.

I can't remember if I saw this in a book or a TV show/movie: The main character breaks up with a guy she'd been seeing. It's not dramatic but he asks her if there's someone else.

She says there isn't anyone specific but rather the idea of someone, and she owed it to herself to reach for it even if it went nowhere. Cassie would be like that.

How different would Miami, late nights working with Ethan, the Opera and the ethics trial would be?

I'm going to answer this from the perspective of her being in a serious relationship. That's where things are more different than the casual dating scenario.

Miami: No sharing of rooms, no nightcap on a moonlit balcony. A nightcap in the hotel bar with others around is acceptable. Even if nothing happens, Cassie's mature enough to know it could be seen as improper.

She's also seen/heard enough stories to be wary of mixing alcohol and intimate settings. Besides, she'd rather use the downtime to facetime her boyfriend.

Opera: She might have gone with Ethan and thanked him after for helping take her mind off things. But that's it. However, the chances are higher she would have asked for his advice at the hospital and then just gone home to reflect on it.

Late nights, ethics trial and the rest: Cassie has no issues working with Ethan on Naveen's cure, whether it's late nights or early mornings. Ethan kept his feelings close and she would have never guessed from his words or actions that he saw her as anything other than another resident.

She came to Edenbrook to learn from Ethan Ramsey, and she would take advantage of the opportunities before her. She doesn't see him as a love interest, but by the time of the ethics trial she does see him as a mentor and a friend. And she values any help he can offer, even if he's being stubborn about it. But that's it: no Dirty 30s in Ch15 or Ch17.

I hc that she often talks about Ethan to her boyfriend because no one in Edenbrook can know about Naveen. Her boyfriend is a neutral party. He is privvy to everything, including her hero worship of Ethan. But at this stage, there's nothing for him to worry about because she's devoted to him, and he knows it.

Okay... I'm done with this essay. Thank you for reading, and I'm sorry for how long this is lol

Character Asks: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @cariantha @crazy-loca-blog @coffeeheartaddict2 @doriopenheart @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mrs-ramsey @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

[yssjj]

Fifty Shades of Grey: actually very good

The common criticism leveled at romance novels is that it’s the easy fantasy of women. I want to break down this critique by looking at Fifty Shades of Grey, which I had the pleasure of watching last week during our Big Straw movie night. In popular critique, Fifty Shades of Grey was a notable movie for women. It was especially considered so because men didn’t understand what women liked about it, but seemingly were also able to say that women would like a movie like Fifty Shades of Grey. When I described what I found about the plot so fascinating, my friend noted that it sounded like the kind of thing women would want, which is interesting because both of us are women. Does that mean we both implicitly understand the pull of the story, even though both of us are able to create distance from parts of the fantasy at the same time? Or does it mean that we’re both different from other women, the women that this is supposed to be a fantasy for?

I almost like to think of romance like a hermit crab essay, where we’re co-opting the conventions of the genre to tell a story within its “rules.” This creates a sort of fantastical nature to the story at hand because we expect things to be a little unrealistic – we are, after all, acknowledging to some extent that this is just a simulacrum of reality. We make our story with these tropes and rules because we want to focus on the intricacies of romance between people. While I’ve never been a fan of genre writing in general, I’ve been trying to challenge myself to see if any of my critiques of the genre are actually true. Is it true that tropes are lazy? Or can they be used as a tool for something more?

Fifty Shades of Grey is interesting because it has widespread appeal despite dealing with a topic that is seemingly impossible to talk about frankly - sex. It also talks about romance and the way romance is intertwined with sex. How many other rom-coms do you see good, enjoyable sex as an important part of a relationship? Sex is one of the most vulnerable things you can do with another person.

And in Fifty Shades of Grey, while sex is an important part of the fantasy, the narrative challenges us by making the fantasy also stand for many different ideas: consent, kindness, revenge, spite, repression.

Anastasia is supposed to be this clueless, infantile girl who knows nothing and is brought to sexual fruition into womanhood by Christian Grey. She’s an English Literature major with no ideas for what jobs she wants to go into, fresh out of undergraduate, entering the real world for the first time in her life. Christian rushes to go save her at a party where he tells her that she’s drinking too much, and she takes the moment to faint into his arms like a blushing bride. She is, also, literally a virgin. 

However, their romance starts on equal ground. There’s not much difference between their two power positions because their flirting relies on implicit consent via attraction. The chemistry is crazy in the first thirty minutes of the movie. It had me blushing and shit. It’s an absolute masterclass in rizz. And rizz only works if both people are willing to play the flirting game!

But when Christian and Anastasia first have sex, their romance is tilted from equality, opposing figures, to the traditionalist idea of the nurturing male figure in a relationship and the naive female figure who needs guidance into learning about this adult world. Think submission to your husband in the evangelical Christian worldview, the post-WWII housewife who gives up her job to learn how to guide her own children under the husband who replaces the father figure. Christian is already trying to dominate their relationship, before he asks Anastasia to sign a sex contract (an actual thing that happens in the movie, please stay with me, I know it sounds ridiculous and it is).

Christian then begins to attempt to take control of the rest of Anastasia’s life. When she tells him that she’s not interested in what the sex contract outlines after researching what BDSM actually is, he finds her in her new house, somehow gets in, and then seduces her to convince her to continue looking at the contract. Is this crazy? Yes, obviously. But his actions are allowed within the realms of the romance movie because his actions stand for not literally being crazy, but as someone who is trying to transgress boundaries. He is trying to embody his expected role as a teacher by forcing her to learn what he thinks she needs to learn in sexual maturity. And at the beginning, Anastasia goes with it. 

Christian shows Anastasia his Play Room (where he does not have an Xbox) and attempts to force his contract onto her. She asks him to sleep in the same bed with her after sex and he refuses, instead choosing to indulge himself in some after-sex piano playing (not joking). He offers to GO ON DATES WITH HER (generally considered important in relationships) so that she’s more willing to sign his contract. Anastasia has a business meeting with him and creates some boundaries on the contract, but is unwilling to actually sign it. She meets his parents. She goes to visit her mom to talk about the relationship but Christian shows up uninvited to the restaurant she and her mom are having brunch in (to her mom’s DELIGHT, that psychopath). To try to get on her good side again Christian takes her flying in a glider, which seems successful. Anastasia comes back home and when Christian refuses to discuss any of their issues, she tries to physically touch him (against the rules of their conduct) and he lashes her as punishment. 

While this scene seems to be caused by her refusal to use safe words and play along the rules that she’s agreed to (as one could argue is supposed to happen in BDSM), we can understand as viewers that her lashing out (haha) is because she understands that the lashings he’s giving her are not from play punishment.

It is from a need to invoke the power he wants to have in the relationship onto her, a way to pretend that his real anger and hatred are not real.

These are the intuitive things that we understand during sex, that even if in words we are play-fighting, playing at anything at all, the underlying emotions are what sets the true tone of the actions we are taking. But Anastasia understands the implicit hatred for her in his actions. And in that moment she realizes that despite her being submissive, she is the one with the power and control in the relationship. Christian doesn’t have power or understanding over her. He doesn’t even have those things over himself. 

Anastasia is failed by almost every single person in this movie. Her friend is instantly charmed by Christian and his dogged chasing after her. Her father is the same, having heard Christian give a talk for Anastasia’s graduation, what a successful young man he is! What a suitable replacement for her current male retainer, her dad. Her shit mother who refuses to even come to her graduation because her boyfriend broke his knee (who cares) is DELIGHTED when Christian finds where they are having brunch across the US and comes up to them as a surprise. Anastasia’s understandably upset reaction isn’t even seen by her mother, who is more fixated on what a handsome young man he is, I’m so lucky to meet him in person, the next parent I’ll be passing you onto. 

But Anastasia wasn’t drawn to major in English literature because of Jane Austen and her fatherly husbands. She was drawn to it by Thomas Hardy and Tess of d’Urbervilles, a story about a girl who struggles through bearing a child out of rape, getting rejected out of the fact that she isn’t pure. Tess takes her story into her own hands, even if it means that she has to face execution for killing her rapist. 

Because Christian refuses to realize Anastasia’s power in the relationship, because he is so fixated on this idea of projecting power, of dominating her when the relationship relies on her consent, on her acceptance of his power, Anastasia leaves. That’s the ending of the movie, Anastasia looking at everything Christian is pretending to be, looking straight past him and through him, final eye contact through the elevator doors that close on him and she leaves. 

In this way this movie does embody BDSM as a kink but also a culture – after all, the submissive is supposed to have the real power. They are the one who decides what the dominant can or cannot do. They are the one receiving pleasure and who really controls the game of sex. So they are also the ones that can terminate sex entirely. The dominant does not exist without having a submissive. Their role in sex doesn’t make sense without the submissive, while the submissive can enjoy pleasure on their own. The entire time they’re having sex, Christian is focused on Anastasia’s pleasure. The sex is about her. She never gives him head, and they only have sex for maybe five minutes of the entire movie. The rest of it is foreplay, and she holds the power to say whether she enjoys it or not.

If holding power in a relationship is a female fantasy, then shouldn’t we question why that’s such a fantastical idea in the first place?

-----

Is Fifty Shades of Grey sex positive? 

The first half of the movie is almost an instructional guide for someone who has never heard of BDSM before. But if we then assume that the narrative is supposed to be didactic we would lose the criticisms we can hold against Christian Grey. Could you read Christian Grey’s interest in BDSM as a reaction to abuse and trauma that he went through as a neglected and then adopted child? I suppose you could. But isn’t it also true that the level at which Christian Grey has leaned into his role is a little atypical? Generally (and while this is based on my limited personal experience), people don’t own a full room of BDSM toys with a key that you keep on you at all times. People in the BDSM community aren’t big on creating legal contracts that you have to sign before you get into a relationship with them.

Instead of asking whether Fifty Shades of Grey is sex positive, I think we have to focus on sex as a characterization of people in the narrative. Sex is a tool to create the movie’s narrative; the movie isn’t a tool to define what sex is.

Christian Grey himself as a character encapsulates a male archetype that I’ve seen so often in movies recently. He’s what characters like Patrick Bateman, the guy from Fight Club, Ken in Barbie aspire to be in their respective movies. The idea of the alpha male.

But the alpha male isn’t a person. It’s a loosely combined aesthetic of ideas that these people try to simulate.

We can tell this because when you examine the ideas closely, there seems to be no actual meaning or depth in thought for the images these men play at. And I don’t mean like, deep philosophical meaning. I mean like Christian Grey’s job seems to be “business.” Same with Patrick Bateman. He also works in “business.” So does the guy in Fight Club, until he moves onto cult leader, which arguably he’s not even doing, that’s his alter ego. Ken tries to move up from “beach” to “man” in general, which is also not really very specific. Not that they need to have specificity, but how can you personally like being in something like just “business?” You can’t even ask if these men get any joy out of their jobs because they don’t have any real definable job in the first place. They’ve rejected their personal selves in favor of some sort of “successful” exterior. How painful that must be! What do they do for fun? One of my co-watchers noted that Christian Grey seemed to have decorated his apartment based on what would come up in Google for “rich person apartment.” I mean, of course! His persona as an alpha male doesn’t come with instructions on how to do interior design. If he tried to be an actual person, his apartment might be ugly, but at least it could be unapologetically him.

This male pain is also based on the simultaneous rejection and need to attract the “feminine.” As the masculine character has no emotional needs or wants, a feminine character must be his dual to provide these inferior (but ultimately required) feelings. Christian Grey understands that he has this lack of actual personhood, and he is simultaneously repelled and attracted to Anastasia because of her femininity. The only interests he has beyond his alpha male persona is his Play Room, which is why it’s absolutely crucial that Anastasia accepts that part of him. But Christian doesn’t realize that that too is just an extension for the need of control and the character he plays as a dominant. That’s why Anastasia rejects him in the end. She can see through all of his bullshit romance of himself as this awesome, powerful businessman. 

But Anastasia wants to believe that she can change him. Don’t we all want to change men in our lives when we see them falling into this lack of humanity that will ultimately make them unhappy?

But we can’t! In the end Christian has to choose to go beyond what he has decided to be in conformity with society. But it’s a fantasy because in this universe we can touch someone’s heart and ask them to look at us as people, as people who understand their pain and can be talked to, not parented and taken care of.

[fandom-chic]

The Time We Lost: Chapter 1

Summary: 40 years have passed since you saw Soldier Boy. Yet here he was at your door. With so many things having changed, will you two be able to withstand the modern world?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Y/N

A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome back! Here is the first part of the sequel to Happy Little Family. Let me know what you think of the direction and if this interests you. Reviews are welcome.

He was a ghost. Maybe even a demon. Yet all you knew was that he wasn’t standing before you. That was impossible. He had been dead for 40 years. That was a fact. 

But then he spoke, “Y/N,” That’s when he pulled you into his arms. “I’m home.” The ghostly apparition was solid. Its arms wrapped around you, locking into the familiar places you had before been accustomed to. Even the scent matched perfectly. 

“No.” You whispered. There was no way. This was some kind of mind fuck. A cruel prank by the Gods. But when your eyes met his, your hand instinctively reached out to touch his cheek. You knew. He saw the recognition in your eyes. 

“It’s me, baby,” His rough voice broke you, and you fell into a heap in his arms. It was him. He was home. Your Soldier Boy had finally come home. His hand rubs up and down your back as you cry into his shoulder. 

“I-I-I… I thought you were d-dead.” You stutter between sobs. One of his hands comes up, and his fingers get tangled in your gray hair. 

“I know.” You take your head off of his shoulder and pull his face into your hands.

“Never leave again.” This time you see the semblance of a tear in his eye. It is immediately wiped away as he gives a sad smile.

“I never will.” That’s when you pull his lips to yours. He tasted the same. His lips were the same softness that you dreamt of every night. You waited forty years to kiss your husband again. If you knew that night in 1985 would be the last for more than half of your lifetime, you would have held him tight and never let him go. 

That was when you hear a grunt from behind Ben. You pull away from him, and you finally notice two men standing behind him. One reminded you of the only human in a Muppet movie. He had a kind smile. The other was something entirely different. This man exuded a kind of danger and darkness that you had stayed away from for years.

“Oy, you gonna introduce us?” The second man asked. There was a moment of annoyance on Ben’s face before he turned around.

“Butcher, Hughie, meet my wife, Y/N.” You give a curt smile.

“Wife?” The one you presume to be Hughie questions. “I thought that was all a PR stunt from the 80s?” You wanted to cackle at the boy’s naivety, but how could he know?

“That’s a long story, but yes, she’s my wife.” His wife. You missed being called that.

“So you really are an old lady fucker aren’t you?” Butcher smirked at his own joke. Before you could retort, the sound of skin hitting skin reverberated through your yard. Butcher was holding his face as Ben’s fist unfurled.

“Say that shit again, and you’re fucking dead.” You knew you didn’t have to say anything at this point, but you might as well. 

“Tea, anyone?” 

Once everyone had a mug of tea in their hands, you let the questioning officially begin. You first answered Hughie’s questions about the realities of your relationship with Ben. You smiled to yourself, recounting the few weeks of bliss you had shared while trying to gloss over the traumas as quickly as possible. The story eventually got to the part where Ben was no longer a part of it, and he perked up, wanting to know what happened next. 

“And Jamie was born four months after Ben left.” You finished, taking a sip of your green tea.

“So where is he now?” Hughie asked, curious about the lore around your months with Ben. You smile, knowing he was expecting something Supe-like of him, especially since he was Soldier Boy’s son.

“He’s a firefighter in Brooklyn.” You place your mug down, “The whole Supe thing wasn’t quite for him.” You look at Ben to see how he took that reality, but his face said nothing as he gazed into the abyss of your living room. 

“Firefighter, eh? What a way to have supe abilities without being an absolute cunt.” You couldn't help but snicker at Butcher’s comment. 

“You can say that I raised him right.” 

“So, he’s ok?” It came out as a meek sputter from his mouth, but you knew it was Ben. Not the Ben you remembered from years ago, but it was still him. You place a hand on top of his.

“He’s ok.” You squeeze his hand at this. You knew that’s what he needed to hear at that moment. 

“When can we see him?” Ben asks, almost sounding like a child asking to see Santa for the first time.

“Let’s talk about this later.” You say, knowing this was a more intimate conversation. “Now, I must ask, why are you both with Ben?” Butcher and Hughie give each other a knowing look before going into detail about their goal to take down Vought (which you knew had to be in vain), unearthing Ben from Russia, his revenge on Payback, and his request to come to see you. 

“I knew that once they were all gone, I had to come to see my girl.” You stared in shock at your cup. You knew what Ben was capable of and the violence he could commit, but this was something you weren’t prepared for.

“But Ben, people died-”

“Those weren’t people; those were fucking monsters.” He cuts you off, gripping his mug harder in his hand. You notice a crack appear and know that this conversation would also continue in private as well. Although Butcher is a dark man, you could sense a sort of kindness under that exterior, one that led him to say:

“Alright now, why don’t we let these two get some alone time? Hughie?” At that, the two of them make their way to the front porch. You two were alone at last. The door is barely shut before you hear Ben ask:

“When can I see my son?” You sigh, letting your fingers run up the side of your cup.

“Ben, it’s tough to get him over here. Especially when-”

“He doesn’t have to come here. We can go to him.” You couldn’t tell if his voice was excited or just truly curious about his boy. Your hand moves to grasp his and squeeze. Ben looks down at your hand on top of his. 

“We’ll see what we can do.” 

“I don’t know what that shit means, but I want to see him as soon as fucking possible.” He moves his hand out from under yours. “Why don’t you want to see him?” The question you didn’t want to get, but here it was. You try to reach for him again, soothe him, but he rises from his spot at the table. You stay seated.

“I’m not saying that at all.” You retort.

“Then why are you avoiding my questions? You do realize I have never met my fucking son, right?” His face is turning red as his voice starts to rise in volume.

“You don’t think I know that?” It was your turn to get out of your chair. “You do realize I had to parent a supe baby all by myself. Every day I not only had to try not to get accidentally torn apart by my kid, but I also had my emotions drained right out of me. Do you want to know why? Because he wanted a Dad.” 

“You don’t think I wanted to be there?” This time he was pointing his finger in your face, “You think I wanted to spend my time trapped by a bunch of fucking Russians getting the shit beat out of me?” You felt a tear well into your eye. You knew it wasn’t fair of you to blame him for being gone, but how could you not? All the years of loneliness seemed to be making themselves known. 

You are about to apologize and give some sort of explanation to Ben, but the aches returned. They do that at the worst times. They start at your feet and go up your body, enrapturing you to a cocoon of pain. When it reaches your eyes, you feel your vision blacken, and your feet go out beneath you. Before you are taken into blackness, you feel two strong arms catch you. Then you’re gone.

Hours must have passed when you woke up in your bed. You looked outside to see the sun had set. You sit up and yawn before hearing the TV on in your living room. You get up and wrap a cardigan around yourself to see who is still awake. You’re happy to see Ben watching reruns of MASH. You smile to yourself as you watch him. He turns to you and returns the smile.

“Did you know there’s a whole channel to the good stuff?” He motions toward the MeTV logo. You laugh and take a seat next to him.

“Just wait until 2 AM. That’s when they play Star Trek.” He raises his eyebrows at that, liking the sound of that. A beat passes before you say what’s on your mind. “We’ll head into the city tomorrow.” He turns toward you.

“Are you sure? That was-”

“It’s fine. We’ll head out in the morning.” You get up and make your way back to your bedroom, leaving Ben in the light of the TV screen.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sideline Love ~ Chapter 14 ~ Fathers and Daughters

Pairings - NFL! Chris Evans and OFC Rebecca Rooney

Series Summary: All football player Chris wants is to play football with his best friends in the NFL. But the night before he meets someone who could change his life... if she wasn't the bosses daughter. Can Chris change her mind with a little sideline love?

Word Count: 3.4K

General Warnings: smut! angst, cheating, parental interference, fluff, football Chris has beard ( 😏 ), injuries during the game, special appearance (don't @ me lol)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Becca Rooney and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

I am trying out a taglist. Please let me know if you would like to be included.

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Families never seem to be easy.  It’s a fairy tale that parents and childrens, especially fathers and daughters get along perfectly.  Daddy’s Princess and all of that.  Its not reality.

At least, its not Becca’s reality.

Becca started to pack up her office.  The same office she had only been in for eight months. Even with Chris playing, his future was still uncertain come the off season and Becca would be going with him wherever he landed. The only person she hadn’t discussed her move with was Tom.  Since she didn’t know where she was going, she didn’t want to bring on the headache of his complaints until she knew where.

Her mother had tried to convince her to stay, for the sake of being close to family while Chris was working.  But the conversation had been hard.

*~**~*

“Rebecca, I know your father crossed a line banning you from seeing someone but be realistic.  You need family.”

“I do need family.  But why is it it that Chris’s family has been way more supportive of our relationship than you and dad have and they haven’t met Charlie?  I only met Lisa when he was hurt.  And yet, they are cheering us on.”

“That’s not fair Becca.  I wasn’t given the chance to meet Chris properly and get to know him.”

“Because Dad made it impossible.” Becca pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Ok, wait.  You’re right.  Why don’t we do this.  You come to our house and have dinner.  Get to know Chris.  See how much he loves your granddaughter and me and understand why I would follow him anywhere.”

That dinner was right before Thanksgiving and Avery Rooney was impressed.  The young man was obviously in love with not only her daughter but made sure Charlie was the center of their world.  Something she had wished for her for so long.  To have a father.  After that dinner, she talked every night to her husband.

“Rick, you should see them together.  They are just like how you and I were when we were dating.”

“I asked Rebecca to do one thing and she didn’t listen.”

“So what? She fell in love Rick.”

“Avery, how can she run the team if she can’t listen?”

“Is that what this is about?  God Rick, you are just a dumbass man after all.”  Avery walked out of the room.

Rick sat, shocked as his wife was always kind with her words.  He knew Avery’s world was all about her family.  It had to be, since she was the daughter of another famous football family.  The Mara’s owned the New York Giants so Avery was brought up in this world.  He valued her opinion on everything.

And right now her opinion of him was low.

*~**~*

Becca pulled her phone out when it buzzed.

C: Ma said she couldn’t wait to have us for Christmas

B: Can’t believe the first time I really meet her will be at Christmas

C: I know babe but it’s the only time I can do it this

B: I know love.  At least it will be easier since Charlie needs to be in Boston for Christmas morning

C: If we must

B: Chris…

C: I know love, doesn’t mean I like it

C: Want my girls with me for the holiday

B; I know. Me too

Becca put her phone down as she continue to organize her paperwork. She looked over the files from the draft and smiled.  She looked over Chris’s file, reading his stats, his grades.  She couldn’t believe she hadn’t put the man at the bar and this man together.  But she was glad she hadn’t.  Things would have turned out so differently.

“I saw his potential you know.  Its why I wanted to trade for the picks.” Becca looked up to see her father in the door way.

“I see it.  I see your notes too.” Becca stood up straight. “Is there something you need?”

“I wanted to invite you and Chris and Charlie to dinner.  At the house.”

“I don’t know…”

“I just want to talk ok?  But I would like to do so in private.”

Becca sighed.  “I’ll ask Chris.  Its up to him.”

Rick nodded.  “Ok.”  He started to walk away.   “I miss you my princess,” he mumbled.

Becca’s heart clenched, seeing her father sad.  They had always had the best relationship. Until Tom.  She knew her father had been disappointed in her for her decisions but he never once made Charlie feel like she was a mistake.

B: babe, my father just invited us to dinner

C: really?

B: yeah.

B: up to you

C: I think we should

C: don’t want you to lose your family

C: especially if we move

Becca could cry at his thoughtfulness. He never put himself first. She stood up and looked out the window.  Her view was amazing.  Overlooking Heinz Field, Becca hugged herself as she lost herself in thought.

“You think any harder, the hamster will fall off the wheel.”

Becca turned and smiled at Ben.  “You always know when I’m thinking too hard.”

“This time I was tipped off.  Chris was getting ready for practice.”

“God that man.  What did I do to deserve him?”

“Well I was thinking of what was it he did to earn your attention.” Ben sat on the couch in her office and patted the seat next to him.  Becca sat and looked at her friend.  “You know I remember the first time I met you. Tenacious little five year old princess. Not unlike another princess I know.” Ben smirked while Becca laughed.  “You were so headstrong, so independent.  You came right up to me and said…”

“You better win my daddy a championship,” Becca finished the sentence. “I remember.”

“When you first told me you were pregnant and you weren’t sure how to tell your father, I was honored that you confided in me.  You’re like my little sister.”

“You’ve always been a big brother to me. When the players would pick on me growing up, you always had my back.”

“And I always will.”  Ben scooted closer. “What’s on your mind?”

“Dad invited us to dinner.  To talk. Chris wants us to go.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I miss him.  We sit in the meetings and I see how much he’s changed.  How defeated he looks.  And I want to fogive him but…”

“But he tried to take the first man you really loved away from you.”

“And then he punished Chris.  And it hurts to see Chris so sad not to play.  And when you guys told him to suit up, it’s the happiest he’s been in a long time.  Charlie loves him.  I love him.”

“Becca, I think you should hear your father out. Maybe he can see how happy you are and realized his mistakes.  And maybe you will see yours in holding on to this.  Charlie can’t lose family right now.  Not when you are in the middle of the mess with Brady. You need family.”

Becca leaned into Ben.  “What am I going to do without you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving. IF Chris leaves, we’re going with him.”

“Becca…”

“Ben, I have to.  He… he almost sacrificed his career for me.  He went to court for me.  Went through stupid questioning for me.  This is the least I can do for him.”

Ben nodded.  “Then I’ll miss you.  You’re always welcome with us ok? He pulled her into a hug.  Love you sis.”

“Love you too bro.”

That night, Chris and Becca got ready for bed.  “Do you honestly think dinner is a good idea?” she asked.

“Angel, we have to clear the air sometime.  Charlie misses her grandparents.  She just asked when she was going to see Nana again.” Chris climbed into bed with her.  She rested her body against his. “I know its hard sweetheart but I just don’t want you to regret time with your parents.”

“What if he’s rude? What if he is insulting?”

“Then I will take my family out right away.” Chris kissed her head. “You know I would do anything to protect you.”

“I know you would Chris.  I’m just worried.”

“What can I do to reassure you Angel?” He pulled her into his lap. “You need me to distract you?”

“Distract me how?”

Chris grinned and leaned his head into her neck, pressing his lips right in her sweet spot.  She moan lightly at the sensation.  “Need more Angel?” She nodded quickly.  “Use your words.”

“Need more Chris. Need you please.”

“My good Angel, being so polite.” Chris manouvered her onto the bed and hovered over her. “What do you want Angel, hmm? Tell me.”

“Need you to touch me.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

Chris smiled as he started to kiss her neck more and moved down, gently sucking on her skin.  She withered and squirmed with each kiss. He pulled off her shirt to reach her sweet nipples.  He wanted to try something to see her reaction.  “One day,” he said, “these will be nice and big when you are carrying my baby. They will be so sensitive, so delicious.”

Becca had no idea why that turned her on. “Fuck Chris, keep talking.”

He smirked.  “I’m gonna marry you one day and get you nice and big with my child. Give Charlie a sibling.”

That did it. Becca pulled Chris to her and kissed him hard.  She used all her strength to flip them over. “I need you now Evans.”  She lowered herself to pull him out of his sleep pants.  His rock hard member stood erect and she places a soft, long lick on the tip.

“Oh fuck.  Shit, no, you are not taking control of this.” Chris pulled her up and moved her pantiess to the side as he thrusted into her.  She moaned loudly. “Always so tight Angel. Fuck, just like heaven.” He grasped her hips to move her faster.

“Fuck Chris, yes, right there,” she moaned.

“I love you Angel so much.  You feel so good.” Chris let his fingers dip in to massage her clit.

“Oh god, that feels so good. Don’t stop Chris, please.”

“Won’t ever stop Angel. Cum for me my Angel. Let go.”  He applied a little more pressure on her clit and she wailed.

“Fuck!” She chanted his name. “ChrisChrisChris.”

“Let go Becca, please let go.” She cummed with a silent scream as he continued to move.  As she was still coming down, he flipped them and continued to pound into her, chasing his own high.  “Fuck yes!” He yelled finding his own release.  He slowed to a stop, still inside her.  “Was that enough of a distraction Angel?”

“You can do that to distract me anytime love.”

He pulled out and cleaned her up. “Love you so much Becca.”

“Love you too Chris.” She yawned as she settled on his chest.  “Trust you.”

“Protect you.  Always,” he whispered as he listened to her settle and fall asleep.  

*~**~*

A few nights later found Chris, Becca and Charlie pulling into the Rooney family home.  The mansion (for lack of a better term) looked the same to Becca as ever.  The place she grew up, where Charlie brought when she came home. She sighed.

“We can drive home if you want.”  She looked at Chris as he gave her a soft smile. “Pick up some Pete’s, put on a movie.  Whatever you want.”

Becca cupped his cheek.  “I love you so much.  And tonight won’t change that.”

“Angel, I love you too. Everything is going to be fine.  Your mom is in your corner as well.”  He kissed your knuckles. “We’re a team and nothing will change that.”

Becca took a deep breath.  “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Ready!” Charlie’s answer punctuated with a giggle. “Daddy out!”

“Okie dokie munchkin.  Imma carry you in ok, its icy.” Chris exited the car and went to open Becca’s door.  He helped her out before going to Charlie’s door.  He lifted the girl in his arms and carefully made his way to the door with Becca holding onto him as well.  December in Pittsburgh is no joke.  They made it to the door when it opened wide revealing Avery.

“Come in! Get warm.  Hi darling,” hugging and kissing Becca.

“Hi Mama. You remember Chris and what her name again?” Pointing to Charlie.

“Mama I’m Charlie,” she squealed as she reached for her grandmother.  “Hi Nana!”

“Hi baby! Are you getting bigger?”

“No!”  She wiggled to run into the house.

“Chris, its nice to see you again.”

“Thank you for inviting me Mrs. Rooney.” Chris offered his hand.

“None of that Christopher.”  Avery laughed as she pulled in Chris for a hug.  “And its Avery. Now, dinner is almost ready so how about a drink first.”  The couple nodded as they joined hands and followed Avery.  “Rick, did you find…”

“Papa!!!” Charlie jumped from the couch into Rick’s arms.

“Charlie Bear! I’ve missed you. Are you getting bigger?”  He hugged his granddaughter tight.

“Papa, too tight.”

“Oh sorry.”  He adjusted her to his hip. “Becca, Chris, thanks for coming.”  He leaned to give his daughter a kiss on the cheek and then shook Chris’s hand.

“Thank you for inviting us Dad.”  Becca guided Chris to the couch as Charlie took her seat on Rick’s lap.

“Red wine ok for everyone?” Avery offered.

“That’s great Mrs.. Avery,” Chris cleared his throat from nerves.  Avery had been kind when he met her last but Rick made him nervous. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you Chris.”  Avery passed drinks around including a sippy cup for Charlie. “Your home is nice as well.  I don’t think I mentioned it when I was there.”

“Well thank you.  Its getting better with Becca’s touches.”  He gave Becca a loving look and squeezed her hand.

“And how is the sale going Becca?  On the house?”

“You’re selling your house?” Rick looked at her.

“Yeah, we are moving in with Chris as soon as the sale goes through.  We got an offer a couple of days ago.”  Becca looked at the intertwined fingers, unsure of what else to say.

“Oh, well congratulations.  Big step.”

The silence was awkward to say the least until a ding announced that whatever in the over was done.  “Sorry Chris I didn’t ask. Are you ok with meatloaf?”

“Sounds good Avery.”

“Great.  Give me five minutes.  Becca, can you help me?”

“Sure mom.”  She rose with a kiss to Chris’s cheek. “Can you get her into her chair?”

“’Course Angel.”  Chris watched Becca leave the room and then turned back to Rick and Charlie.  

“They will be a minute,” Rick said. “You have a house.”

“Yes, my mother and I scouted houses when I got drafted.  Had some money from the settlement of the accident.  Took care of the down.  Charlie, she picked her room and we are working on finishing it for her.”

“That great. Really.” Rick swallowed.

“Dinner’s ready,” Avery called out.  “Rick stood up and Charlie reached for Chris.”

“Daddy will you sit with me?”

“Of course munchkin.  But you gotta each whatever Nana puts on your plate ok?”

“Ok daddy.”

Rick watched in amazement as Chris got Charlie in her booster seat and made sure a napkin covered her.  Avery and Becca set all the plates down and they all sat to eat.

Rick chewed and swallowed.  “I didn’t know Charlie was calling Chris dad now.”

Becca’s eyes went wide.  “Oh, yeah. Umm, she just decided to one day.  Chris didn’t mind, right honey?”

“No Angel, I don’t mind.  Always wanted a family and Charlie is perfect.”

Rick watched the look Chris would give Becca.  Looks of admiration, adoration, of love. And it hit him.  This wasn’t like before.  This wasn’t a man trying to take advantage of his daughter.  Of her position in the world, of her vunerability.  This was a man in love.  In love with his baby girl.  In love with his grandbaby.

Avery kept the conversation light during dinner, asking how Charlie was doing in school and decisions on the decorating of Chris’s home. “Well Becca, you always want to consider flooring especially with children.”

“I know mom but carpet…”

“I need to say something.”  All the adults turned to Rick.  “Sorry, I just… I need to say this.”  He took a swallow of his wine before continuing. “I know that I have been unfair to you Becca about the dating things and your relationship with Chris.  It kills me that all of this happened because I wanted to teach you some things before you were ready.”

“Dad…”

“No let me finish. I know you decided to do what you did and I hate that he… he didn’t take responsibility.  You deserved way more than that. But I’ve watched Chris with you and Charlie and I see now that he is nothing like him.  He looks at you like I look at your mother. And that is something I shouldn’t have taken so lightly.”

“Mr. Rooney, I do love your daughter so much.”  Chris grasped Becca’s hand. “She and Charlie are my whole world.”

“Its all I ever wanted for them.  Someone to love them both.”  Rick sighed.  “I owe you this Chris.  I am sorry.  Sorry for benching you, sorry for trying to take Becca away from you.  From trying to take Charlie from you.”

“I understood where you were coming from Mr. Rooney.  If someone hurt my daughter the way Brady did, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have reacted the same way.”

“Its Rick, Chris. But I should have realized that you were special to Becca. I am so sorry princess. I’m sorry that I tried to break your heart.”

“Oh daddy,” Becca let the tears flow as she got up and went to her fathers seat, throwing her arms around him.  He clutched his daughter.

“I’m so sorry Becca.  Please forgive me,” he whispered.

“I forgive you daddy.  I love you.”

“Love you princess. So much.”  He wiped his eyes as Becca pulled back.

“Knew you were a sap Ricky,” Avery said wiping her eyes.  “Let’s finish up dinner so I can get little miss here her favorite dessert.”

“Oreos!” Charlie squealed. “Nana, that’s Daddy’s favorite too!” 

“Is it?  Well, he has good taste.” She threw a wink at Chris.

The rest of the dinner was light. Rick invited Chris for a scotch while Avery and Becca cleaned up. 

“I know this probably goes without say Chris but if you hurt my girl…”

“Don’t worry Rick. I have no intention of ever hurting them. If we could get through this, we can get through anything.” Chris took a sip, “but I have to say something.”

“Alright.”

“I could see the look on your face when Becca said she was selling.  I know it’s a house you helped her buy.  I didn’t ask her to do that.”

“Chris, son, you have to know that I know my daughter very well.  She would have only done it if she was completely in love with you.  And I know she is.” Rick took his own sip. “What are your intentions Chris?”

“Intentions?”

“Are you planning your future with my daughter?”

Chris took a breath and smiled.  “I know we are moving fast but I have never felt anything like this with anyone else.  She’s my everything.  They both are.”

“You gonna ask her?”

“Not until I talk to you and Avery.  I’m a traditionalist, Rick.  I want your blessing when I am ready to ask.”

“And you’re ok with being a dad? A premade family?”

“I don’t see it as premade.  I see as it as my destiny to have that little girl be mine.  She’s mine Rick, biology or not.”

Rick smiled.  “She’ll say yes.  But worry about that later.  We have playoff games to win.”

Chris smiled.  “Yes sir.”

In the kitchen, Avery and Becca were sipping coffee as Charlie finished her milk and cookies. “That boy is going to marry you one day.”

“You think?”

“I can see it Becca.  He is completely in love with you.”

Becca sighed happily.  “I love him too.”

After Oreos, the little family carefully made their way home.  “So that dinner was a success,” Chris commented as he held Becca’s hand.

“It was.” Becca studied her boyfriend.  “Chris?”

“Yes Angel?”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure about what love?”

“About us?”

Chris turned slightly to look at her before turning back. “Becca, where is this coming from?”

“Its just feels like a dream.”

“Angel, you are my forever.  Its my dream come true.” 

Becca smiled.

“Mine too.”

Taglist:

@patzammit @texmexdarling

[heliads]

All By Design Chapter One: sharp enough to kill a man

Y/N L/N is Icarus incarnate, a falling star of a singer who only feels bliss when she's burning down. Nikolai Lantsov is what becomes of golden youth when finally forced into harsh reality. Both of them need something to save their reputations. The solution? A relationship to turn the tide of the tabloids. The only problem is that they really, really can't stand each other, and that makes faking endless love impossible to bear.

this chapter's song: vigilante shit

series masterlist / chapter two

This is going to end badly. Of course it will. How could it go any other way?

Looking back, you probably should have seen the signs as they flashed before you. People were worried. Your reputation was splintering with every passing second. You used to be good. No one sees it now. No one had for a while. It makes perfect sense that they would try to do something to stop your image from fracturing any further. You just didn’t think they’d resort to something like this.

Besides, it wasn’t as if you were totally out of control. The world loves to watch its stars burn to ash and dust, to gawk and point as you lose the last of your principles and let it all go in one last hurrah. You weren’t quite so close to your own dying days to to think you were anything but untouchable, but you weren’t blind either. Everyone has their end date. Yours was coming up.

It wasn’t like you were going to die. You didn’t think you were there yet. No one thinks they are until it happens, but still. The only wars you had were internal. You don’t make mistakes when it comes to business, you keep your books clean. You play by the rules, and they hate you anyway.

That’s alright, though. A bit of good-natured sniping never hurt a soul. You’ll sell your songs by the dozens, and a thousand people will read into every word in the hopes of grasping your true meaning. Maybe they’ll find it, maybe it never existed at all. Regardless, you’ll stay up there on that stage until it burns you out, and then at last you will be able to rest.

Until then, you stay with it. The game of the famous is a tempting one, you have never been able to keep away for long. You make yourself a promise that you’ll stay out of the melee, maybe treat your wounds for a month or two, but soon enough you’re creeping back towards the clubs and the nights out and all is lost once more. You’ve got people you know who are out every night, certainly more than you. They’ll write your name in scarlet letters until you join them once more.

That’s how you can excuse this to yourself. Blame it on others, never on yourself. In truth, maybe you were falling off the deep end. The journalists were certainly scrambling to chase down every sordid truth about your life, and you gave them enough to fill a thousand books and news broadcasts. It all came to a head with a meeting in your label’s office. PR wants to talk, the email said. Say no more. You know what this means.

Or, you thought you knew what it would be. A slap on the wrist means the same thing as a warning shot in the dark, you’ll ignore both until they’re aiming for the whites of your eyes. There will always be people gunning for you. Saints know the amount of times they’ve tried to stage your death only for you to come out smiling. Not even Kaz Brekker, that godforsaken up-and-comer from the Barrel’s scraping skies and burning bridges, could devise a plan to drag you down forever.

That’s how you stay alive in the business, you know. You choose your enemies better than you choose your friend, and throughout all of it you develop a skin thick enough to carry you through every rumor, every lie. That’s why you didn’t stress that PR meeting all that much. They’d tell the same story about starting to get worried, and then they’d cut you loose for another month or two. It had happened before. You were sure that it would happen again.

Instead, you walked blindly into their game plan. You’re not sure how long they’d been thinking about this, but it must have been long enough to get all their pieces in order. You were locked in checkmate before you even opened your mouth, you just didn’t know it yet.

They did, though, and that was enough. Your lead PR specialist is a terror of a woman named Zoya Nazyalensky. She’s well known in the industry for taking the most hopeless of cases and turning out martyrs and heroes by the dozens. Even if they don’t last all that long, you’ll be damned if you haven’t heard of her clients by the time she’s done with them. Zoya is ruthless and utterly without sentiment, but sometimes that’s what you need. You know a few others who were made anew by her. One was a young woman who’d left a previous agency in Keramzin, but her stories come later. Yours is now.

Zoya waited for you to take a seat and delivered your fate at last. She spread out a variety of damning evidence across her desk:  magazines, newspapers, all to do with you. You’re a demon, one claims, twisted and hell-bent on ruining every good thing you ever touch. Another article claims you’re an angel. A third says you’re neither, just a temptress everyone has been entertaining for far too long.

“This needs to be fixed.”

That’s how you know you’ve crossed a line. Usually, Zoya doesn’t present solutions, that’s up to you. If you can execute brilliancy in coming up with song lyrics, surely you can brainstorm a way to pull yourself out of the quagmire of bad press.

Now, though? You must have gone too far. Maybe you have for a while. It’s enough for her to make up her mind about you.

Zoya clears her throat and continues on. “We have analyzed what people are saying and decided that it all stems from the fact that you’re too wild. The public needs to know that you can be serious. At some point, the games were going to have to end. You know that, don’t you?”

You incline your head once. “We’ve had this conversation before.”

Zoya’s gaze remains cold. “After this, we shouldn’t have to have it. Do you know how you convince the world that you can settle down? You actually do it.”

You arch a brow. “So what, you’re retiring me? I bring in too much money to the label for you to do that.”

Zoya scoffs. “Stop being so self pitying, it does neither of us any good. I was hired to turn you into a tool for selling records, that’s what you wanted. Don’t get cold feet on me now.”

The corners of your lips prick up into a smile. Even if the world was falling to pieces, you can always count on Zoya’s prickly personality. It’s nice to have a constant in all of this.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you assure her. “Alright, I’m curious. What’s your strategy this time?”

For some reason, she hesitates as if knowing that you’re not going to like this. “Keep your complaints until the end.”

“What are you going to have me do?” You ask, slightly alarmed. Zoya has never given you a shred of kindness. You started young in this business, she was the one who got you through it. The fact that she seems to dislike what is about to happen to you is a bad sign for sure.

Zoya folds her hands on the front of her desk. “You’re settling down, but not from music. Just your free time. We’re arranging a relationship. You’re going to be seen in public with a young man and convince the world that you’re in love. They’ll believe that he’s keeping you in line and stop talking about how you’re a loose cannon.”

You want to laugh. “That’s your strategy? Convince some guy to date me and hope that my soul is cleansed from not running around doing what I want?”

An idea occurs to you. “This was Aleksander’s idea, wasn’t it?”

Zoya doesn’t answer, but a flash of irritation in her eyes lets you know. Of course it was. Aleksander runs the agency where both you and Zoya work. He chose you as a client when you were just getting started as a singer. Some would say that his methods are wrong, that he hurts his stars more than he saves them, but Aleksander has never cared about what people feel, only the results he gets. As long as his sales stay through the roof, he will do what he wants.

Right now, that includes marketing you as someone who is kept in check by some stranger. It wouldn’t be the first time Aleksander has done something like this, either. Rumor has it that he encouraged a young model, Genya Safin, to spend time with one of the wealthier and older actors in the world. Alexander Lantsov is a king around here, and Aleksander needed something from him. Genya was a pawn. You all are.

No wonder Zoya is furious. She keeps it to herself well, though. Saints know what happens to those who cross Aleksander. It would not do to lose her so quickly.

You have no choice in the matter, but that doesn’t stop you from making your frustrations known. “Alright, sure. Someone up top is going to play matchmaker. Who’s the poor fool who has to put up with me for the purposes of this plan?”

Zoya’s lips just purse. A voice answers for her, one coming from the back of the room. You hadn’t checked to see if anyone else was there when you walked in, assuming that you’d be in and out in a matter of minutes. As it turns out, there is someone here, and you can tell from his gilded tone alone that he’s going to be trouble.

“That would be me, I suppose.”

You don’t bother to turn around. The young man who has the pleasure of being forced to court you walks forward until he’s standing somewhere to the side of Zoya’s desk. Arms folded across his chest, he dares you to say what you really want to him.

Instead, you direct your stare at Zoya with ill concealed vexation. “Him? Really?”

Zoya seems unconcerned with the choice of men now that her grievances with Aleksander have been made clear. “He needs this just as much as you do. What, is there anything about Nikolai Lantsov that upsets you personally, or just the idea of him?”

Nikolai. Of course it would be him, now that you think about it. You don’t think anyone expected Ravka’s golden boy to fall from grace, but his popularity is starting to slip anyway. Call it connection to such a family as the rest of the Lantsovs, call it envy that someone can seem so perfect when the rest of you are clearly not. Regardless, Nikolai needs a little something to redeem him in the eyes of the public once more. Turns out you’re just the right card for him to play.

You had seen him once before this outside of movies or tabloids. Your friend had hosted a party a year or so ago, and that had been where the ill-fated meeting had taken place. Not a real friend, of course– to say that anyone in the Ravkan side of Hollywood truly has your back is the most pathetic sort of self deceit that could ever be imagined. No, you were only there so it didn’t look terrible if you weren’t. The world’s most dazzling stars would hand you all sorts of drinks with a smattering of white lies as a garnish. If half of the sips you took were only of water, no one would believe you. 

They know what they expect of you, and around here, human error is non-existent. People believe wholeheartedly what they want to believe. To suggest that their wildest imagination might not be proven fact is something akin to betrayal. It would certainly be the sort of stuff to start a war, but the rich and famous do that all the time over something as microcosmic as a broken nail.

Anyway, that was the sort of place where you met Nikolai Lantsov for the first time. In an attempt to cross a crowded room, he had trod upon your heel with such precision and grace that you almost thought he might have done it on purpose. When you had turned around to scold him for it, his face had spread with a smile so sincere it had to be false and he had apologized. So charming, so insensitively legitimate compared to the rest of you. That was Nikolai and no one else.

He had moved on after that, floating between groups of partygoers with all the natural grace of an eagle soaring through the air. You had watched him for some time after that, and at last concluded that he had to have been stone cold sober throughout the entirety of the evening. Perhaps that was the excuse you gave yourself for hating him then. If Nikolai could remove himself from the humiliating task of getting drunk in public when you couldn’t, who were you to idly praise him? Nikolai did not make mistakes. Everyone else did. It was all the proof you needed to despise him.

You have a better reason now for animosity, of course, but at least it gave you a head start. You don’t know if Nikolai has thought about you twice since that night, if he even realized it was you at all. And here he is now, still leaning idly against the wall, soon to be your lover. How delightful.

Zoya taps her hands against the table once, abruptly dragging you back to reality. “Well?” She asks. “Are you going to do it?”

You fight back the urge to laugh. “Do I have a choice?”

“No,” she says crisply.

Across the room, Nikolai grins. His teeth flash in the fluorescent lighting, and it looks as if he’s baring his fangs at the world, daring it to try and take him down. “You know, I think most people would be perfectly happy to date me. I’m almost hurt to hear that you think otherwise.”

You shoot him a look. “Don’t do that. I want no part of this and you know that.”

Nikolai spreads his hands. “Hey, in the spirit of honesty I don’t want to do this either. We’re both suitably desperate for a jolt to our public image, though. I can affectionately say that you are my best bet right now.”

You sigh and look back at Zoya. “Alright, then. I’ll do it.”

She nods, and then, as if sensing how much this is going to bother you, Zoya does the impossible and smiles. “Excellent. This is going to be absolutely fascinating to watch.”

Do you know the worst part of this? You think she might be right. 

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy

[attemptinghaikyuu]

Joking About Dating A Friend But They Take You Seriously

A/n: woohoo, we’re doing another one babbyyy! I’ll never get tired of these sorts of situations honestly <3

G/n reader

Team Captains (most of them~)

Kuroo Tetsurou

He was walking behind you, about to tap your shoulder, witty conversation starter at the tip of his tongue one he totally hadn’t prepared a day beforehand, only to be hit with you saying “Wow, look at you! A fantastic boyfriend i have indeed.”

Reals back, all thoughts flying out of his head

All internal excitement dissipates as panic and dread take its place

You had introduced Kuroo to the guy you were calling your boyfriend, saying you were only friends and yet…

How come he didn’t know? Him and you were close to each other, right? Had he been so deep into your smiles and pretty eyes that he had misread everything? Maybe he had made up the little signs that meant you felt the same

It was probably his feelings making him a lovesick fool

That thought stuck with him the most because that made him pretty delusional if he got everything this mixed up

He has so many questions rattling in his brain, pinning him down, that he doesn’t realize you’ve turned around and are staring at him

It takes your hand waving back and forth in front of him to startle him out of his trance

His panic doubles, voice strained

“Ahh, hey there kitten. What’s new?”

It’s missing his usual excitement and he sounds strangled, you notice right away that he’s also turned away from you

“Tets are you all good? Are you sick, I could get you some medicine if you aren’t feeling well?”

“What no, I’m not- you don’t have to do any of that, I’m better than I could ever be.” He chuckles and he knows he’s not being convincing in the slightest

“Huh, I’ll get the truth out of you in a sec, I’m gonna say bye to my friend and then we can go, okay?”

“Don’t you mean boyfriend.” It comes out before he can stop himself

The bitter tone is so obvious he’s tempted to bolt, maybe start over as a circus clown

He’s positive he could pull that wig off

Your voice is laced with laughter when you ask if he really does need to go see a doctor

“And what boyfriend?” You pause, smile growing. “Are you talking about yourself or what?”

Now he’s flustered and confused. It’s not like you didn’t talk like that with him but you had a boyfriend now didn’t you or was that..?

“WAIT EARLIER YOU-

He takes a deep breath, he could be wrong, he needs to stay calm

“We’re, we’re you just kidding around when you said your friend was, well ya know?”

You laugh again and explain, slightly embarrassed by the mishap, that yes you were kidding around

He feels all of his confidence come back and asks the question that leads to you two finally dating

“If that’s the case and the spot really isn’t taken, how about I become your boyfriend?”

Bokuto Koutaro

He. Is. Crushed.

Everyone around him can feel the tense atmosphere and looking at his face is like a punch to the gut with his heartbroken eyes, he’s staring at you like you’ve died instead of said you loved your girlfriend

All bokuto had wanted was to give you a quick hug before he headed off to practice

Instead he has to deal with the weight of knowing you’re with someone else, that and the realization that he needs to put away his own feelings so he doesn’t ruin your relationship with the person you love

He had known he liked you for quite awhile, it was hard figuring out a time he should confess or whether that would make you uncomfortable

He’s glad he never tried anything since it saved him from the possibility of making things hard for you, seeing as how you would’ve had to let your friend down

Bokuto looks at you closely, there’s a grin on your face as you stare at her and if you’re happy then he can live with this

That’s what he firmly thinks

And so pulling himself up with a smile, he walks over to you with a solidly convincing amount of energy

He talks excitedly and almost exactly like he would normally

What he’s saying doesn’t sit right with you though

His words are depressing and he looks like he’s forcing himself to talk like this

You stop him in the middle of a joke, that wasn’t all that funny with the sad way it was being told, and ask if he’s okay

His smile gets even bigger, and now you can see it’s clearly fake as he gives you some excuse about training being harder on him lately

You decide to wait and give him a little space, you assume he’ll walk off to volleyball practice, and later you’ll be able to talk with him about whatever’s going on

When he keeps talking and it becomes clear he’s not moving, stalling for time, you ask if you can talk alone with him

“Bo, is um, did something happen? You’re upset aren’t you?” You question him cautiously

“Nope! I’m just glad I get to talk with you, it’s not something I’ll be able to do as often since you have to spend time with your girlfriend and all!”

His smile finally slips as what he said hits you both

You’re quick in explaining the mistake now that you know what’s eating away at him

He can’t believe his luck when he hears you say it was just a joke, it’s too good to be true

But he doesn’t care, he’s just happy

Doesn’t even let himself process it all before he’s asking you to please, think about dating him

You’re both glad his smile is back to normal when you say you’d love to

Kita Shinsuke

Keeps it together like the seemingly impassive and parent friend that he is

Hurts so much more then he wants to admit

Doesn’t want to believe what he just heard but if you say that you have a partner, than those are the facts and he can’t change anything

But shit, does he wish he could

He’s standing right next to you, a step away and if he took it you would be pressed against his side

That’s an impossible reality, a fantasy he needs to put to rest now that he knows your feelings for someone else

That step however, is ungraciously closed when you trip backward from what appears to be your partner moving their foot as you had moved forward, resulting in you falling onto Kita

Instantly flustered by it and is feeling so betrayed by his body when he automatically puts an arm around you to keep you upright

He tries to be respectful as he removes himself from your side, it isn’t right for him to be that close to you, he’ll just have to push down the disappointment he feels from the lack of contact

“Kita-kun! I’m really sorry about that, my friend” you give a pointed glare towards the person of your affection. “accidentally knocked me into you.”

He gives a small smile at you, slightly unsure as to why you would address your partner as just your friend

If he’s being truthful, he doesn’t want to think about it anymore and that’s why he allows himself to shrug off the strange event

He acts like he always does in the next couple days, though the aggressive lilt in his voice that appears at any mistake he spots, gives away his frustration

His feelings are boiling over the surface and he realizes he needs to find a way to get over this

The best way to do that, he concludes, is to tell you his feelings so he can take the rejection and move on

A resolution that he puts into motion the next time he’s with you

He does it simply and tries to make it as small and meaningless as possible

“Thanks for listening to this, I know it must be difficult to deal with.”

You’re speechless and Kita wishes this could be easier but he steels himself for what’s about to come next

“I- Kita, I know you’re not and I apologize in advance, but are you a dumbass?” You’re expression is both mortified and happy and he really doesn’t know what’s happening

“I like you. I was messing around with my friend and I promise you, I will never be doing that again.”

Oh, Kita is so relieved and the first thing he does when you become official is pull you in for a hug

And he’s gonna keep pulling you in for hugs :3

Ushijima Wakatoshi

His surprise is on full display and he ends up staring at you so intensely you automatically come up to ask him what was wrong

Isn’t sure how to put into words how he feels at the moment

You are your own person, so he shouldn’t feel any right to being the one to call you his partner

Yet he can’t stop the disappointment from filling every part of him

Ushijima wants to be mature about this though, If you think that girl is good enough for you then he will live with the heartache

So he shakes his head and comes up with a small excuse for his behavior

He seems normal to most in the following week, quite and stoic, more silent around you than he’s probably ever been but nothing really out of place per say

However his annoyance with your girlfriend only grows when he sees that you are not being treated how most would in a romantic relationship

He’s had enough when he hears her tell you about this pretty girl she saw the other day

She’s all casual and smiles when she says it too

Walks over, taps your shoulder, and asks if you can talk in private

It wasn’t right and he was 100% calm when he explained why he thought you weren’t being treated right

And he definitely wasn’t a little jealous and using the way your girlfriend was acting as a way to see if he could prove he could treat you better

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t being completely rational when he was making his points as to why you should maybe, just possibly reconsider the whole dating your girlfriend thing

But the fact that she hadn’t held your hand was very important and he needed you to know that

He needed you to know that you shouldn’t have to listen to the one you cared for like that, speak of another person they found good looking, especially when the most attractive one was you

Ushijima doesn’t know how to take your silence when he finishes, and you seem… embarrassed?

Had he gone too far? Over stepped a boundary in his jealousy?

He was considering an apology for his rash behavior when you spoke up, though it was more appropriate to call it spoke down with the way you had your head lowered and voice quiet

“Toshi, did you mean all that?”

He’s not sure where this is going, he responds honestly regardless

“Yes, I meant it and I’m sorry if I insulted you.” He doesn’t apologize for insulting your girlfriend tho~

“Then you should probably know that I was only playing around when I said I was dating my friend. We’re not together.” You finally look into his eyes. “I’m pretty single and uh, if you really wanna help me in my dating problems you could date me, that’d fix them all.”

The slightest blush appears on his cheeks and when he reply’s with his yes, it’s almost like a happy sigh

He makes sure to show you how much he loves you everyday, he’s also still slightly bitter around your friend <3

Terushima Yuuji

Freaking out

He is having a hardcore internal screaming sesh

Walks away from you so he can pretend he didn’t just hear that

Also wants to make sure you don’t see him panicking

He finds a place where he’s alone, a field outside the gym he had been in, that is till he’d heard you talk to your boyfriend

Who was apparently, very entertaining if the way you had been laughing was any indication

Stands there, blank for a few seconds

Is so set on not crying over something like this because he knows that you’re amazing and shouldn’t be so surprised over you dating some other dude

He should go back inside and act like he always does, or maybe not since you are with your boyfriend

He’s being stupid, acting this overworked

It’s what he tells himself but he can feel a couple tears slip down his cheeks and there’s a sob bubbling up in his chest against his will

This didn’t feel fair

He wants to do something, he just doesn’t know what

Pretending he’s fine would be a good option if he could stop crying

It’s not looking feasible at the moment however

Takes a shaky breath and is coming to the decision he should leave you alone for now when he hears his name

Someone’s calling him, someone who absolutely cannot see him right now

He starts sprinting, but the thing about crying is that it’s pretty exhausting and before he knows it he’s gasping for breath, too slow to move out of your reach

“Terushima! Why would you-

You stare at his tear stained face, concern pulling your features into a deep frown and he desperately wishes he wasn’t the cause of it

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask the question softly, making it all hurt a little more

His eyes are closed when he replies. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty head with.”

“Whatever it is I won’t judge and if you want advice or someone to just listen I’m listening.”

“You, it’s really not..” he breaks. “Are you really with that guy?”

It’s none of his business, why’d he have to ask that?

Understanding lights up your face, and with the new information having connected the dots you move closer to him

“I’m not. He and I were joking, so please don’t cry.” He feels a hand wipe a stray tear from his face

“Would you maybe wanna go out sometime,” you laugh a little. “I hope I didn’t completely misread this, if I did I suppose we’d be matching.. and I wouldn’t mind so much if that was the case.”

He answers by grabbing your hand.

“That answer shouldn’t have been so cute, I’ll forgive you by taking you up on that date though.”

[merakiui]

I was reading through your tags and you mentioned at some point the kazuscara roommates finding your onlyfans and I think I completely combusted—thus i present to you my brain rot of late: you attend the same school as them but you’re not actually friends, all you know about kazuha is that he’s the friendly regular at the cafe you work at, who makes polite conversation every now and then but otherwise is nothing of note. In reality he’s been stalking you for weeks ever since your first encounter, and is dead set on the idea that you’re this innocent, weak thing that needs to be protected (maybe he stepped in when you had a bad customer and your meek reply helped fester his delusions?). Scara, on the other hand, is only aware of your presence since you’re his favourite cam model that he recently found. (Since he’s a harbinger he’s probs loaded) Weeks of funnelling money towards you cause him to feel this unwarranted possessiveness, believing that since he’s been providing so much in your “relationship” that it’s time you reward him in turn. However, despite the unbridled interest they have toward you neither are aware of each other’s feelings for you— that is, until you happen to run into the both of them heading to your class. While both are known for maintaining their stoic masks, they’re friends for a reason— and instantly can tell the attraction their roommates have towards their own “lover”. After kazuha finds your onlyfans he’s certain that you’ve been coerced and wants to save you, while scara thinks it’s time that he’s stopped letting other plebeians look at his possession—so, despite their initial reservations, come together to form the ideal plan. When you find yourself waking up groggy in a room you don’t recognize, all they can do is look on with glee whilst planning their next course of action with their new belonging. They’re friends after all, and good friends share though, don’t they?

This is v long srry lol you can ignore this ofc!!

AAAH, ANON!! YES!!! <3 I couldn’t resist writing more on this concept. orz They make for such a terrifying pair when they work together!

(cw: yandere, stalking, nsfw, implied kidnapping/drugging, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, delusional thoughts, savior complex, implied violence)

What if Kazuha and Scara were just acquainted with one another and actually became closer through their mutual obsession with you? Yes, they’re roommates and ought to get along because they’re living together but they haven’t exactly clicked yet. They talk every now and then and know little things about each other. Nothing too special. They don’t really hang out outside of their dorm either, what with their class schedules being vastly different. And Kazuha’s always out of the dorm doing who-knows-what. Most of his time is spent at a café, where he’ll write and read and stare at you while you work. On the other hand, Scara prefers to stay inside if he doesn’t have a good reason to go out. He likes his alone time. Although he has enjoyed going to the library every now and then to study.

So maybe they need to find some common ground. Maybe they need a push in the right direction before they get closer.

Kazuha likes to stare. Talking to you is great, but he worries he’ll say too much and then he’ll be a nuisance, or you might not want to talk to him at all since you’re working. But you always regard him with a warm smile, happy to scribble his name on the plastic cup because you remember him. Because you recognize his familiar face and soft, gentle eyes. He’s the one who saved you from that rude customer, after all, and he’s a polite regular. Why wouldn’t you know him? You might look like you can handle those types of situations, but what Kazuha saw that day was something entirely different. You were nervous—so soft-spoken and scared. He absolutely has to protect you from those kinds of people now, doesn’t he?

And he does exactly that. He’s your second pair of eyes—your valiant knight in shining armor—who sees and hears all. Sometimes he goes to the café with the intention to simply watch over you and make sure no one’s bothering you. He can recall one time when a customer was speaking rudely about you because her drink hadn’t been prepared in a ‘timely manner.’ In reality it’s impossible to make a drink within a few seconds, especially when you’re already preoccupied with making another customer’s drink. She must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe she’s just a hateful person in general. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such fiery insults, though.

Her eyes just can’t see your perfection and therefore she does not deserve to see out of them.

Kazuha’s willing to wrestle with all of this darkness if it means you’ll stay safe, oblivious, and pure. You’re like a defenseless kitten, unable to protect yourself from the scary world. He writes about you a lot in his journal; you’re his muse—someone who constantly shows up in poems and short paragraphs where he tries to describe what your dream date might be or what type of wedding you’d prefer. Things get darker the deeper you delve into his writings, where you’ll find entries in great detail. Kazuha writes a lot and he doesn’t even mean to. He just has to get all of his thoughts on paper before they abandon him and he’s left with emptiness.

Everything you do is pure; you’re almost an equivalent to a holy being. Your smell is pure. Your body is pure. Your actions are pure. Your smile is pure. Even when you’re on the verge of crying from harsh customers or when you’re turning down a confession, you’re still pure. And Kazuha likes that about you because it’s special. There aren’t many people in his life who are completely pure. He’s been through a lot of rough things and has seen firsthand how impure people can be. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to protect purity itself.

He might have some impurities, but that doesn’t deter him from watching over you. As gentle and unassuming as he is, there are times when even he loses his composure. Not many are privy to these dark emotions of his. His smiles are sharp and venomous and his eyes fill with a gloom so dark it can swallow you whole. You’ll never see this side of him; he won’t allow it. Instead you’re treated to his sweet, calm side, where he feigns perfection in hopes of catching your interest.

As for Scara… He doesn’t really care about Kazuha in the beginning. He’s just someone he has to live with. It’s not a big deal and as long as he doesn’t try to make lots of pointless conversation everything will be okay. He prefers the peace and quiet, considering he’s acquainted with people who are far from peaceful and quiet. Scara’s relieved that Kazuha leaves the dorm so often because it gives him an opportunity to watch his favorite cam star’s most recent video. He’s your most loyal follower—someone who’s paid lots of money just to have access to the highest tier of rewards and such. He even got a private video where you addressed him and moaned out his name with lustful thoughts of him. Having lots of money comes in handy.

When he finds out that you go to the same school as him, he’s a little shocked. He didn’t expect you to be so close. You’re practically within touching distance. If only he knew your schedule. If only you were in one of his classes. It’s really annoying that he only knows your online presence and not who you might be in your personal life. The last thing he’s going to do is consult Childe, that popular athlete who knows literally everyone in the school for whatever reason. Surely he knows you. But he’ll die before he ever asks Childe for a favor.

Scara loves you out of every other cam model because you’re different. You’re not just trying to get fast cash. You’re genuine. You listen to your subscribers and their feedback. You do your best to improve and do even better streams than the previous ones. All of your hard work is overlooked by the other fools who watch your streams, but it isn’t overlooked by him. Scara appreciates your attention to detail and the way you’re able to hook him with your breathless voice alone. You’re very skilled at what you do, so it’s only fair you get paid for it.

But buying your services isn’t enough. It’s not a real relationship, but it certainly feels like it when he buys preferential treatment. Private shows, special requests, odd favors—you do it all because he pays for it. But this relationship isn’t going to be one-sided forever. You’ll have to pay him back in full eventually. Scara likes to think he has patience and that waiting is fine. It gives him more time to plan his next move—to figure out what he should do to finally have you all to himself. So that those private shows he watches through a screen can finally be real.

Scara finds the journal sitting innocently on Kazuha’s bed, its maroon cover and maple leaves pulling at his curiosity. He might not know everything about Kazuha, but he’d recognize this journal anywhere. His roommate almost always has it on his person. Scara wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with it. To say he’s curious would be absolutely correct. He can only wonder what Kazuha writes in that thing. Perhaps it’s just notes for a class. That’s what anyone would think, right?

Scara opens it and flips through the first few pages. They’re normal for the most part. Just a bunch of haikus and other useless scribbles. When he skips over some pages, he starts to find things that are far more interesting than poetry and doodles of cats. He finds the majority of the journal is comprised of information. More specifically, there are facts and other knowledge about you—the cam model he’s been obsessed with ever since he stumbled upon your onlyfans. He reads through as much of the journal as he can and instantly learns so much: your address, your roommate, your workplace, your friends’ names, names of any potential exes. The list goes on and on.

Scara doesn’t have anything against Kazuha. His first impression of him wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He thought he was a pushover at first. But now that he knows what this journal holds… Well, it sheds an entirely new light on his roommate.

Just days before Scara took a peek inside his journal, Kazuha discovers your secret online life. He snoops through Scara’s laptop when he steps out, having left it open and unlocked. He’s just trying to find what could have caught Scara’s interest, as he’s almost always glued to his laptop on specific days at specific times, with his headphones on and his gaze unyielding. He doesn’t intend to find the file of one of your private videos—something that was meant only for Scara’s eyes.

He clicks on the video out of interest. He’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t this. Kazuha sits there and stares at the sight before him. You’re dressed in skimpy lingerie and you’re muttering the dirtiest things while coating your fingers in lube. And your hands are stroking a thick toy and you’re addressing Scara and you’re lining it up to your hole and— He shuts the laptop before it can get even more explicit than it already is. He’s so conflicted, fraught with a betrayal so strong it weighs his heart down.

Why would he have this sort of video on his laptop? Did you give it to him? Did he make you do this? Are you in danger? Are you still pure?

Kazuha can’t kill on campus. It’s way too risky and he’d be one of the first suspects if Scara’s body is found. Besides, it’s not like he has the full story. He doesn’t know whether or not Scara’s done something that’s worthy of death. You could just be in a tight spot. He knows how easily you give in when you’re under pressure. Maybe you’re just doing this because you feel like it’s the only thing you can do. Not to worry; Kazuha will save you before Scara can ruin your purity with his twisted fantasies.

They confront each other when the time feels right. Kazuha struggles to keep a smile plastered to his face for the sake of politeness, while Scara holds in his raging temper so that he can bear some semblance of cooperation. Neither of them is happy to hear that the other went through their stuff, but they force themselves to make up because a more pressing issue is at hand: their connection to you.

Kazuha says he’s your secret admirer. Scara says he’s in a relationship with you. There’s no way you’d ever date someone like Scara—Kazuha knows this for a fact. Yet he falters at the confidence in Scara’s tone. That can’t be the truth, right? Despite this, Kazuha still strikes up an offer: If they work together to get what they both want, they’ll be unstoppable. With Scara’s riches and his influence and Kazuha’s charisma and clever thinking, they can easily get their hands on you. Of course this means they’ll have to share, but it’s not a big deal when they’re already in so deep. They both know the other’s secret; now they’re swearing to keep it in the pursuit of having you all to themselves. And luckily Scara agrees to the deal, but that doesn’t give Kazuha a reason to lower his guard.

However despite how well they work together when it comes to planning the kidnapping and actually executing it, they both have their own reasons for wanting you. Scara wishes to make his relationship with you a reality—to toss aside the screen that once held him back and finally do all of the things he could only do in his dreams. Kazuha seeks to protect your fragile heart, lest you crumble under Scara’s intense way of doing things and cling to him for salvation. You can’t do those sorts of things with Scara; he won’t allow it. Your purity is meant for him and no one else.

But sharing is caring and some have to learn that the hard way. It definitely brings Kazuha and Scara closer together, even if neither of them will admit it. If they look past their desires, they can be friends. And soon enough they’ll have to accept this new friendship if they want to avoid any unnecessary complications.

However there are times when they’ll cooperate in order to do things with you. They’re a packaged deal you can’t get rid of.