#don't feel pressured to!!!! only do an event if YOU want to!! your comfort and enjoyment are of utmost important!! <33< /div>
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tetsumie · 5 months ago
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heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea
𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇
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pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader
genre: hurt/comfort
content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation
cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3
a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!
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"it's like i never see you anymore!"
suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.
suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.
as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"
it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.
you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.
you really miss your boyfriend.
but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.
"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.
"i didn't say that, rin."
"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.
you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."
"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.
the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?
as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.
"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."
the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.
"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."
the door opens and slams shut.
the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.
subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.
meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.
"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."
"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."
as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.
he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.
"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"
what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.
he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."
"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."
"yeah you're right."
he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.
as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.
here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.
he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.
no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.
and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.
at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.
"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."
"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."
he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.
so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"
he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.
you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?
and then it hits him.
not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.
he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.
"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.
you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."
"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.
"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."
he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.
he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.
so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.
you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.
you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.
right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.
i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.
"i’m sorry," he begins.
you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."
"and you’re right."
you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"
"you’re absolutely right, y/n."
he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.
"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."
you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.
"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."
you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.
"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."
"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."
"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.
"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."
"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.
he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.
even after everything, you still love him.
he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.
you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.
"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."
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astrosamara · 8 months ago
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Astrology Observations #2
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🩵Mutable risings are constantly changing up their looks because they love experimenting with different aesthetics, whereas fixed risings tend to stick with the same look or a couple of looks throughout their life. They're not as comfortable with outward change.
🩵Mars in the 1st house makes someone a natural athlete and can excel in sports. Also a great placement for dancers.
🩵Saturn in the 1st house and/or Capricorn/Aquarius Rising age like fine wine. They often tend to be late bloomers as well who can feel awkward and uncomfortable with themselves in their early years, but start to grow more into their confidence later in life, specifically after their first Saturn return.
🩵Gemini Venus are so playful and flirty in their relationships. Humor and lightheartedness have to be prominent for them in their relationships to feel loved.
🩵Sun (the father) or Moon (the mother) in the 12th house can indicate that parent dying early in your life or it can represent them being emotionally or physically absent as well. It's spooky how many charts I've seen where this is the case. (I know death is a sensitive topic, so I don't want to freak anyone out by saying this placement is a 100% indicator of a physical death, because it isn't).
🩵I know Taurus' loving food is a huge stereotype, but it's so true! Every Taurus sun in my life loves to go out to eat, cook, or be cooked for and it's their love language. They can also be super big on physical touch such as massages and hugs. They're all about the senses.
🩵Leo moons tend to be the comedians of their family or friend group. They're the ones everyone relies on to bring the fun and playful energy. They really shine a light in people's lives.
🩵Jupiter transiting the 5th house the same time as a Venus return is a super powerful transit for love and romance. I've seen charts where this indicated marriage, meeting a long-term partner, or starting a new relationship.
🩵When it comes to transits, Saturn is the most important planet to look at imo because it's the planet of timing. Looking back on every time Saturn made a conjunction with one of my personal planets or angles, it highlighted a significant event/theme in my life.
🩵Someone having their moon in your 1st house you may notice that these are the people you find yourself easily letting your guard down around. It's easy and comfortable to be with them. This is a great placement for friendship.
🩵You may find yourself feeling soul-bonded to a pet who has their sun as your moon. My cat is a Pisces sun and I'm a Pisces moon and I've never felt such a strong connection to a pet before. He's my actual baby.
🩵Saturn in the 5th house typically aren't interested in having kids. They may feel incredibly overwhelmed by the pressures and responsibilities that come with raising children. If they decide to have kids, their kids can bring out a very karmic energy in them and can exasperate wounds from their own childhood. This can manifest as a positive or negative experience depending on the sign it's in and other aspects.
🩵Check where your 4th house ruler is in your chart. It can further indicate what your childhood was like. For example, I have an empty Gemini 4th house, but my 4th house ruler is in Mercury in my Scorpio 8th house making a conjunction with my Chiron and I had a very dark and traumatic upbringing.
🩵Nobody knows overthinking like a Virgo sun and/or mercury knows overthinking. Their brain is constantly thinking about what can go wrong in any given situation, scanning everything they need to check off from their mental to-do list before they can allow themselves to relax, and will bring up a specific worry you haven't even thought about. I only have a Virgo mars and that's enough Virgo energy in my chart for me. They are the living embodiment of anxiety.
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goldfades · 6 months ago
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PARDON MY EMOTIONS / I SHOULD PROBABLY KEEP IT ALL TO MYSELF ── 𝐉𝐁⁵
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❪ requested -> "jude angst to fluff WITH PLOT!" ❫
─ pairing | jude bellingham x fem!reader
─ word count | 1.7k
─ warnings | lots of angst to fluff, miscommunication (kind of), jude being an ASSHOLE but making up for it.
─ ev's notes ! | i'm now in my football kick due to the euros and copa america so please send in requests!!! 🤗🎀
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!
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BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP with England's star football player had its ups and downs.
You got to be a WAG, enjoying the glamorous lifestyle that came with dating Jude. From attending high-profile matches and exclusive events to traveling the world and mingling with other footballers and celebrities, life was never boring. The media attention was overwhelming at times, but you learned to navigate the spotlight and maintain a sense of normalcy.
However, that was the problem. You longed for a sense of normalcy, that was all you wanted was for your relationship. The glitz and glamour of being a WAG was only fun for a bit, not it seemed like you never got a moment to yourself. This was the root of all your relationships, somehow ─ Jude never understood why you wouldn't like all the media attention.
"It's overwhelming," you muttered as you played with the bottom of your of your coffee cup, the warm ceramic providing little comfort. Jude sat across from you, his expression both of concern and confusion.
"What do you mean, overwhelming?" He replied, his gaze locked on you. "This is part of the life we have. The attention, the media... it's just something we have to deal with."
You sighed, looking out the window at the city outside. "But that's just it, Jude. I never wanted this. I love you, and I support your career, but I miss having a private life. I miss being able to go out without cameras following us or people recognizing us everywhere we go."
"Overwhelming for you?" He sighed, his expression hardening. "How do you think I feel? Look, I'm not asking for much ─ I've given you the best life I can,"
You scoffed, he wasn't listening to what you were saying. "This isn't about you or-or what you've given me. I'm grateful, I really am-"
"Doesn't sound like it," Jude cut you off, his voice rising in frustration. "It sounds like you're not happy with anything I've done."
You felt a surge of anger, the words bubbling up before you could stop them. "That's not fair, Jude," you sighed. "I've been by your side through everything, and all I'm asking for is a little understanding. I need space, I need to feel like my own person, not just an accessory to your life."
Jude stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "So, what? You want me to quit football? Give up everything I've worked for?"
"No!" You stood up as well, your heart pounding. "I don't want you to give up anything. I just want you to see things from my perspective for once. I'm losing myself in all of this, and I feel like an accessory you just get to show off."
"Well, you know that's not true," his eyes softened for a moment, but then the frustration returned. "I thought we were a team. I thought we were in this together. But it feels like you're just... giving up."
"I'm not giving up," you said, your voice breaking. "It's hard for me too, like I'm just a pretty face with no dreams or aspirations. That's what they think-"
"Who cares what they think? I know you're more than that, everyone you care about knows that." Jude let out a huff as he glared at you.
"Well it's always just been about you, Jude," you didn't mean it to come out so harsh ─ your tone hard and cold. "Moving to Spain and-and all this, it's hard on me too."
That seemed to hit a nerve because Jude's eyes went wide before he scoffed. "You think this has been easy for me? You think moving to a different country, dealing with the pressure of a new team, and trying to keep us together is all about me?"
You flinched at his words, but your frustration was too strong to back down now. "That's not what I'm saying, Jude. I just want you to see that I'm struggling too. I left everything behind to be with you. My friends, my family, my life — everything."
Jude's face softened slightly, but his jaw was still tight with anger. "I need you to understand that this life comes with sacrifices. We both have to make them, this is what you signed up for."
"I know that, Jude," you said, tears welling up in your eyes as you sniffled. "But sometimes it feels like I'm the only one sacrificing. I feel like I'm losing myself, and I don't know how to fix it."
You wiped away a tear before continuing, averting your gaze from Jude. "I just need to feel like I'm more than just your girlfriend. I need to feel like I have my own purpose."
"You are!" Jude snapped, before sighing.
You sent him a glare as you sighed loudly, getting tired of not being heard. "Don't raise your voice!"
"You're being ungrateful, I've given you everything! A nice house, a nice car, you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?"
That was the last straw. Your mouth was slightly agape as you took in his words. Ungrateful? How could he say that after everything you've sacrificed to be with him?
"Fuck," you sighed as you looked up, meeting his gaze. "Is that how low you think of me? Fine, then. Let them have my position, since apparently, you think I'm just here for the perks," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger.
Jude's face fell, a mixture of regret and panic crossing his features. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just frustrated. I love you, and I want us to be happy."
You shook your head, taking a step back. "That's not enough, Jude. Love isn't just about the nice things or the glamorous life. It's about understanding each other. And right now, I don't feel understood."
"That's not what I meant," Jude sighed as he began rubbing his temple. "Jesus, I need some space from you."
You glared as he grabbed his keys from the counter and you watched him walk out of the room, feeling your stomach twist in anxiety and hurt. The sound of the door closing echoed in the silence, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen. Tears streamed down your face as you sank into a chair, feeling the weight of the argument pressing down on you.
You sat there for a while, trying to process everything that had just happened. The love you had for Jude was undeniable, but the constant feeling of being misunderstood was taking its toll. You needed to find a way to reclaim your sense of self, to feel heard in your relationship.
After a few moments, you wiped your tears and took a deep breath. You needed to do something, anything, to clear your mind. You decided to go for a walk, hoping the fresh air would help you think more clearly. Grabbing your jacket, you stepped outside and started walking aimlessly through the streets of the city.
As you walked, you reflected on your relationship with Jude. There had been so many beautiful moments, but lately, it seemed like the challenges were overshadowing the good times. You loved him deeply, but you needed to find a way to communicate better, to make him understand how you felt without it turning into a fight.
After a while, you headed back home, feeling a bit more centered. When you entered the apartment, you heard the TV and sighed. You took off your jacket and made your way to the living room, your gaze landing on Jude was too immersed in the show he was watch to realize you'd come home.
He finally met your gaze and instantly muted the TV, the tension palpable as you walked toward him.
"Hey," you whispered as he gave you a small smile.
He tapped to the spot next to him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitated for a moment before joining him on the couch, the silence between you heavy with tension.
"Hey," he said softly, his eyes filled with regret. "I've been thinking about what you said."
You nodded, your heart aching at the sight of his earnest expression. "Me too. I just... I need you to understand how hard this is for me."
Jude took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. "I know I've been incredibly fucking selfish, and I haven't been listening to you. I didn't realize how much you were sacrificing and how it was affecting you until now and... and I'm sorry."
Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief. "I appreciate that, Jude. I love you, but I need to find my own way, to have something that's mine."
He nodded, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, I get that. And I want to help you find that. We can work on this together, maybe you can look into things that interest you here, find something that makes you happy."
A small smile tugged at your lips. "I’d like that. And maybe we can set some boundaries with the media, try to keep our private life a bit more private."
"Yeah, absolutely," Jude agreed, his eyes shining with determination. "I'll talk to my manager and see what we can do about that. Your happiness is important to me... you are important to me."
You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling a sense of reassurance. "Thank you, Jude. I just want us to be happy together, without all the pressure and stress."
He kissed the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you protectively. "We will, I promise."
"I love you, a lot," Jude continued, his voice soft. "I didn't mean anything I said earlier, I was just angry. I don't know..." He trailed off, before pausing. "I don't know what I'd do with you, baby."
You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his brown ones, and you could see the depth of his feelings for you. "I love you too, Jude," you whispered, your heart swelling with emotion.
As you cuddled together on the couch, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you, you felt a sense of peace.
"How about we start fresh tomorrow?" Jude suggested, his voice gentle. "We can spend the day together, just us. No media, no distractions. Just enjoying each other's company."
You nodded, feeling a wave of relief. "I'd love that. It sounds perfect."
He smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Good. It's a date then."
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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zombvic · 6 months ago
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would you write one of hector fort and reader being in an argument and reader crying because of the accumulated stress and hector comforting reader afterwards pls
PLUS ONE (hector garcía fort x reader)
summary : in which hector gets invited to a team event, which comes with a certain challenge
face claim : no-one
notes : first time writing angst lol sorry if its soft but im a noobie
pairings : hector fort x reader , angst
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HECTOR and I have been dating for about a year. Our relationship has been very low-key, with only our families knowing about it. We both agreed it was better this way—he has his fangirls, and I would assume they would go ballistic if they found out Hector had a girlfriend. Not even the Barca players knew; some, slowly caught on, but apart from a few REALLY soft, soft launches, it was basically non-existent to the public eye.
It was a typical Saturday evening when Hector came over to my apartment after a training, a bit more excited than usual. “Guess what?”
“What’s up, babe?” I asked, looking up from my phone.
“I got invited to the FIFA Football Awards event next month. It’s a big deal; all the top players will be there,” he said, sitting down beside me.
“Wow, that’s amazing, Hector! I’m so proud of you,” I replied, genuinely happy for him.
“And they said I could bring a plus one,” he added, his voice trailing off as he looked at me expectantly.
I paused, my excitement fading slightly. “Oh, that’s.. nice.”
Hector noticed the change in my tone and his brows furrowed. “I want you to come with me,” he said firmly.
“Hector, you know we agreed to keep this low-key. An event like that, with all the media and attention… it’s not exactly low-key,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, but it’s just one event. We don’t have to hide forever. Besides, I want to share this moment with you.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that simple. Once we go public, things will change. People will start prying into the life of my family and I. I don’t want that kind of stress.”
“But I want to be able to be with you openly. It’s been over year. I’m tired of hiding” he argued, his frustration evident.
He got up and walked around the room. 
"So, why can't we do just one thing together? "I just want one, public, night together." 
"It never lasts a night. Today it's the awards; tomorrow it'll be something different."
"Where does it end?" I exclaimed, my voice rising as my anger increased. 
"I don't see why you're so against this. It's not like I'm asking you to do something really crazy." 
"I just want my girlfriend to be there for me, to support me." he said, his voice filled with distress.
"And I support you, Hector. Every. Single. Day, I offer you my whole support. However, this is not like usually. It isn't just about us. It's all about the media, fans, and attention.
"It's genuienly too much."
Hector paused while walking, his eyes softening. "I had no idea that was giving you so much anxiety. I just thought... Maybe it was time to announce our relationship, I don't know."
With a shaky voice, I took a deep breath. "Hector, it's not that I don't want to be with you honestly. It’s just that I’m scared. Scared of what will happen when everyone knows. Scared of the pressure, the judgment."
"I apologize for pressuring you. Im sorry. I just... I want you to know that no award or event is equivalent to how much you mean to me. I just wanted everyone to see the girl i adore and love so very much."
"You don’t get it, Hector. You're used to the constant focus on you and your loved ones. I'm not famous in any way, nor do I desire to be."
Hector's face fell, guilt and regret obvious and clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry; I should've taken your feelings into consideration. I just assumed that-"
“You assumed what? That I would suddenly be fine with our private life being exposed to the world?” I interrupted, slowly feeling the anger rise in me.
“I thought we could handle it together,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“But I’m not as strong as you think I am, Hector,” I said, my voice breaking. “I never cry, I never let things get to me. But this… it’s just too much. I can’t do it. What if they try to break us apart? It's so overwhelming. What if the media digs into our personal lives and spreads lies? What if your fans start hating me, or I say something wrong, and it affects you? The anxiety is eating me alive."
Feeling the weight of everything squeezing me, I shook my head. "Hector, I'm not as strong as you expect me to be. I can’t handle the thought of people judging us, criticizing us. With all this pressure, the idea of losing you is too much for me to handle."
"Hector, you just don't get it. You're used to being the focus of attention. However, I'm not. I'm more than scared, I'm basically petrified."
I looked aside, trying to cover my face as the tears I had been keeping back suddenly burst out. Hector stood there for a brief momentwatching me with a distressed expression. Then, slowly, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
“I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. We don’t have to go public if you’re not ready. We can take our time,” he said, his voice gentle and soothing.
I leaned into his embrace, my sobs shaking my body. “Thank you. I just need time.”
He squeezed me even tighter and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "Take as much time as you need. I'm always here to support you. I love you."
The tension began to ease as we stood there, holding another closely. I knew that between us, we would get through this. That was the only thing that mattered for now.
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first time ever writing angst hope its what you imagined while requesting 𖹭
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chrissv4mp · 4 months ago
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౨ৎ WHAT IF?
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PART 1 ; YOU DON'T REMEMBER CALLING OUT FOR ME?
SUM: matt can't seem to stop worrying about you. he can't seem to stop replaying the events of that night.
PAIR: matt sturniolo × f!reader
CWS: cursing, crying, yelling, brief mention of car crashes, slight blood, road rage(?), mentions of amnesia (the loss of memories, facts, information, and experiences).
WC: 2.9k
NOTES: highly requested part 2 is FINALLYYYY here! (might be a part 3 cus... why not?)
TAGS: @livialifesblog @jetaimevous @watercolorskyy @blahbel668 @her-favorite @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @fallingforfalll2 @muchloveforhacker @slutforsturnioloss @sturniluvr @httqvi @stasiesturn @phoenix062
NAVIGATION
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— MATT. MATT WAS YOUR BOYFRIEND. That's why he saved you. That's why he was the first person to run towards the crash, and that's why he was so touchy with you in the ambulance. That's why you can't stop the faint images that flash through your mind of his blurry flace. But, is that also why you hear yelling in the back of your mind? Is that why your heart hurts and beats rapidly every time you see him?
Is he the reason you're lying in this hospital bed?
Monitors beep beside you every other second, tracking your heart rate and blood pressure and whatever else they need to. The IV in your wrist moves with every subtle squirming motion you make, and your head still aches with the sting of the gash and... something you still can't grasp.
Your heart aches as well. Not only for yourself, but also for Matt. He had to witness the whole thing happen, or else you wouldn't remember the terrified look on his face as he dragged you out of the drivers seat. He watched the love of his life experience a near death situation, and you couldn't imagine how it would feel.
But somehow, you can. You can imagine it.
How? Why can you feel exactly what he must've felt right in that moment? Did you experience that feeling, too, or was it just empathy? It didn't feel like it. It felt too real to be just empathy, but you didn't know how or when you felt like that, so how could you prove it to yourself?
"Hey," a soft voice caught you off guard, and your body jolted in shock before realizing who it was. Matt. There he was, standing just behind the privacy curtain in the room, "Sorry to startle you. Do you mind if I come in?"
You only gave him a weak nod of your head, your lips curving into a small, hopeful smile. Matt's smile seemed to widen as he stepped toward your bed, closing the curtain behind him before he moved to take his place in the chair beside your the bed.
The only sounds were the beeping of monitors and the muffled chatter of other patients and doctors, neither you nor Matt having the right words to say. What were either of you supposed to say right now?
Matt knew what he could say. He was just scared to say it.
He didn't want those horrible memories of the fight to come back to you. He never wanted you to remember the heart-shattering words he spoke to you.
So, instead, he decided on a more normal conversation starter, "How'd you sleep last night? Sorry I couldn't be here, they wouldn't let me stay unless I was immediate family." He was lying. Why was he lying right to your face?
Because he couldn't stand the sight of your hurt, beat up face. He felt guilty every time he even heard your voice. His eyes weren't even on you right now, focused on the floor as he fiddled with his fingers in his lap.
You shrug, hands toying with the thin sheets of the hospital bed, "I couldn't really sleep with all the monitors beeping, but I got some hours in, so it was fine."
Matt just nods gently, almost as if he doesn't know you and doesn't want to know you, only giving the small gesture so you would think he's entertained. It was almost as if he was speaking to a stranger, but he wasn't. He was speaking to his girlfriend.
He should've been comfortable with you by now. You assumed the relationship had been long, or else you wouldn't have had his initial as the pendant dangling from your necklace.
"I'm scared." You say quietly, lower lip trembling subtly as you glance over at the monitors that tracked your heart rate among other things. You were scared dying. You were scared of being stuck in the hospital for longer than a month. You were scared that you would lose Matt, the only person who visited you.
He could cry. He could do so many things, but all he did was sit there and clench his fists. He was scared, too. He was terrified, but he had to be strong. For you. "Don't be. I promise you'll be okay."
Your own tears surfaced, and Matt choked on his spit as he heard your quiet whimpers. He didn't know what to do. No. He did know what to do he was just scared of doing it. How would you react? What if you still thought he was some stranger?
As you wipe your tears, you finally speak, "You said we needed to talk about something," you mutter, tilting your head to the side in an attempt to catch his gaze, but you still get nothing. His eyes dart all over the place, not once sparing you a glance even as you continue to speak, "Is it—What did we need to talk about, Matt?"
His name sounds foreign coming from your mouth, the way it rolled off your tongue so strangely (well, to him, at least) made him suck in a shaky breath. You almost don't notice him shudder, his whole body changing his sitting position, almost as if he was uncomfortable being in the same room as you.
"We don't have to talk right now if you're not ready. I'll be back every day, so we can talk whenever we're both ready." Matt speaks softly, giving you a weak smile as he taps his foot on the tiles of the floor, "Plus, I wouldn't wanna overwhelm you with all of it after your... incident. And you said you didn't sleep well last night, so that's another thing—"
"No, it's okay. I'm ready." You cut him off, nodding your head with an eager look on your face. Maybe if he spoke, you'd remember. Maybe if he had told the whole story, you would remember, and everything would go back to normal. You'd remember.
Right?
Matt shakes his head as a soft chuckle falls from between his lips, "No, no, it's okay, Y/N. We'll talk some other time." He was pushing it back. He didn't want to talk. Did the doctors not tell him the same things they told you, or did he just not want you to remember?
"Matt, I'm saying we can talk now. I'm ready." You say, voice shaking slightly as you watch the way his fists clench and unclench every other second, "Let's just—"
Beep, beep, bee—
"Y/N, I don't want to fucking talk!" His loud voice booms in the much quieter room as he shoots up from his seat beside you. The soft blue eyes that were once full of hope were much darker now, much colder, "Can't you get that through your fucking head?" He breathes out, throwing his hands up in an exasperated motion.
He tilts his head to the side, scoffing as he wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. When he finally looks over at you, it feels like his heart breaks.
For the millionth time since last night.
Your eyes are teary, lips parted as short breaths fall out. Your hands grip the hospital gown you're wearing, and you almost look like you've seen a monster. Because you have. Matt just sighs, fists clenching once again. Why was he being like this?
"Just leave it alone, kid," He mutters, shaking his head as he begins to walk away towards the privacy curtain. He doesn't spare you another glance even as he shuts the curtains behind him, leaving you alone to process what had just happened. What had happened?
Kid. You weren't a kid. Sudden anger washed over you as you finally processed his sentence, and something came back to you. Memories of the moments before the crash.
"Don't be so fucking sensitive, Y/N! I was just messing around. You're getting all riled up over nothin', kid."
"Don't call me 'kid', I'm not a fuckin' kid, Matthew. And you could've died from the height of your apartment! You're still drunk."
The room around you seems to spin, and you feel sick to your stomach as your eyes move around the small room you were set in. If he was your boyfriend, why were you fighting that night? And if you were fighting, why did he come to save you?
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Beep, beep, bee—
Matt groaned in frustration as yet another car honked at him, his grip on the steering wheel tightening in both anger and anxiety. He was worried he wouldn't make it to the hospital in time. He had left the apartment earlier than usual in an effort to be on time, but it had just resulted in him getting stuck on traffic.
On The Five, too, an unusually busy street at an even more unusual hour of the day, "If these dumb motherfuckers don't stop honking at us, I'm gonna go insane." Nick sighed from the back, running a hand through his freshly-washed hair as he looked out of his window.
Right. He had invited both Nick and Chris to tag along with him to the hospital, and despite Nick's complaining about the early hour, he still came. He hadn't seen you since that night, and he never even asked if you were alright, too scared of what you would say.
"Nick!" Chris yells, turning in his seat to look back at his brother. Nick just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over one another as he huffs.
"No, he's right, Chris. I'm gonna punch someone if they honk at me again." Matt huffs, eyes moving to his phone to check how long it would take to get there.
30 minutes.
His heartbeat picked up as his grip got impossibly tighter on the wheel, accidently turning to the right before he finally focused and got back on track. Nick and Chris gave each other a knowing look before their eyes were on Matt again.
"Dude, fucking move!" Matt yelled, his voice strained as he tried his hardest not to panic. His anxiety was never this high in traffic, why was it this high right now?
Nick's eyes widen at the booming voice of his brother, his hand moving to his heart in surprise as he stares at the back of his brothers head rest, "We're gonna be late, fuck." Matt sighed, his breathing short.
"Kid, it'll be fine. Calm down, we'll get there when we get there. Y/N won't be mad." Chris coos in an attempt to reassure his brother, his hand moving to awkwardly pat his shoulder. Seeing his brother so stressed made him hurt, his face contorting into a look of worry as he stared at the side profile of Matt.
His last words almost make Matt break, his breath hitching as he replays the moments of his last visit. He yelled at you. He snapped at you because he didn't want to talk. Why was he such an asshole? "She's gonna be mad, Chris."
"Fuck," Matt anxiously runs a hand through his messy hair, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before they open to look back at the road, "I yelled at her. Chris, I fucking yelled at her!" He breathes, worry clear in his tone as he finally spills.
"She's gonna resent me fore—" Matt starts, taking both of his hands of the wheel as he drags them down his face. He sucks in a deep breath, tears threatening to prick in his eyes as he feels that familiar suffocating feeling. He couldn't do this right now. He was in traffic and he was late and he had to get to you and...
"Matt, shut the fuck up," Nick says, his voice rising in an attempt to get his brothers attention. When he saw Matt's eyes in the rear view mirror, he began to speak, "Nothing could make her hate you after what you did. You saved her life, for Christ's sake."
"Right. Just apologize, kid. She's probably confused with everything going on. Just tell her what you feel." Chris chimes in, nudging Matt with his hand as he smiles at him. Matt nods subtly, hands moving back to the wheel but still maintaining that tight grip.
It was still killing him inside.
Ambulance sirens come closer and closer to Matt's car, and now he's a couple blocks away from his apartment. Now you're lying on the grass, and you're gone. He doesn't pull over even when he sees the ambulances on the shoulder, his eyes looking off into the distance.
"Matt, pull over!" Nick says, tapping the headrest as he notices the ambulances. His brother doesn't even turn the wheel, too lost in the fake scenario in his head. There was a universe where he didn't come and get you.
"No," Matt whispers, finally coming back to it as he looks out of Chris' window, noticing the ambulances. He still doesn't even think to pull over, "No."
His head was spinning, and when the ambulances finally passed, the traffic started to clear. Matt didn't hesitate to stomp on the gas, jolting all three triplets' bodies back as he sped down the highway.
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"Matt," you whisper, watching as your boyfriend and... 2 more of him walk through the curtain and into your room?
Chris notices the confused look on your face as he walks in last, his lips tugging into a small smile as he moves to sit in the seat on the left side of the hospital bed. He waves to you, "Hey, Y/N. I'm Chris, Matt's brother, and also one of your friends."
"We're triplets. I forgot to tell you I was gonna bring 'em today, sorry." Matt chuckles lightly, rubbing your shoulder softly as he takes the other seat on the opposite side of the bed. Nick takes the seat on the far end of the room, right by the curtain as he smiles at you.
"I'm Nick, glad to see you're okay, Y/N." Nick says, his voice quiet so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the room. He waves his hand at you in a greeting, placing it back on his thigh as he sees you smile.
They all came to see you.
"Thank—" You suck in a breath as their presence finally sinks in, eyes fluttering shut for a moment to compose yourself before you finish, "Thank you guys for coming to see me. 'Ts means a lot, thank you."
Chris' heart flutters at your words as he relaxes in his chair, comfortable silence filling the room as he takes in the whole thing. He was glad you felt at least somewhat comfortable around them, "Don't thank us, we're just so, so happy that you're alright.
Matt still feels the light tension between you two as his eyes meet yours for only a second. Yours move away, but his... they stay. Finally. He breathes deeply before scooting closer to the edge of his chair, practically leaning over you now, "I'm sorry for snapping at you yesterday. It wasn't right of me, and I should've just told you that I wasn't ready to talk."
Your eyes move to his again, breath stuttering as you notice that look in his eyes. The same look he gave you in the ambulance ride here, the same look you... somehow, remember from previous events. Dates. More intimate moments and even some sad ones. You remember them.
"It's okay." You match the volume of his voice, eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips. You want to kiss him. Is he even comfortable with that right now? Matt answers your question for you, leaning closer to your face and pressing his lips to yours softly.
Nick cringes lightly, but he doesn't make a peep, instead moving his eyes to the floor. He didn't want to ruin the moment. He wanted both you and Matt to be happy. Chris smiles, moving his hands up to clap them together slowly.
The sudden noise makes Matt pull away, and Nick's eyes move, all of your heads turned to Chris, who just sits there, continuing his celebration, "Let's fuckin' go, Matt!" He calls, his voice straining as it always does whenever he's excited.
Matt blushes furiously, rolling his eyes as he gives his brother the finger. You and Nick laugh as Chris continues his motions, only further urging Matt. Before Chris can even say anything else, Matt is rounding the hospital bed and punching his brother in the shoulder repeatedly, eliciting a string of 'ows' from Chris.
"Actually, shut your fucking mouth," Matt murmurs, ruffling Chris' hair before he moves over to his seat again. Nick smiles in amusement, raising his eyebrows at Matt, "Yeah, that'll for sure show him."
"I'll give it to you 10 times wor—" Matt catches himself, his words sounding dirty to himself in his mind as he claps a hand over his mouth, his scream muffled.
Nick, Chris, and you all erupt into laughter. You and Chris grab onto each other as you laugh, unable to contain it anymore.
Even if you didn't get all of your memories and experiences back, you were glad you'd have this memory. Permanently.
You hoped.
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago
Note
Hey love, could you pretty please do an Aaron x reader where it’s there wedding day and she starts getting real bad anxiety about marrying him. Not because she doesn’t want to but because she feels like he is surrounded by so many amazing people who uplift him that she could never compare. Just in the mood for fluffy comfort Aaron 🥹
enough
cw; fem!reader, a LOT of angst but it's comforting??, heavy 5x9 references (i'm sobbing actually), anxiety descriptions, aaron cries 😭, comfort and a happy ending don't worry!!!! wc; 2.4k
"nervous jitters?"
"you could say that." you replied - while staring off into space, while bouncing your crossed leg, while kicking your slipper on and off your heel. your head moved downward as your fingers clutched onto the seat of the chair you were sat in, harshly enough for your knuckles to turn white.
jj pulled the curling wand away from your face an inch, "careful, try not to move."
"sorry."
yet another wave of guilt rippled through you, as this wasn't how you should feel on your wedding day.
last night, you were surrounded by the people you now consider family, celebrating a new chapter. or rather, a beginning. aaron's permanent grin was engraved in your mind; you've never seen him so carefree, happily conversing with his colleagues, gazing at you as if he'd won the lottery (to him, he had). you were positive there wasn't a second where his arms hadn't been wrapped around you.
before parting ways for the night, he had pulled you to the side, to a more secluded area. he gave you long, sweet, deep kisses, holding your body close to his, as you weren't going to see each other until the two of you officially, and finally, became one.
just as him, you had been on a similar high, more than ready for this next adventure, in pure disbelief that in less than twenty-four hours, you'd be a hotchner. so now, whatever this was, had quite literally come out of absolutely nowhere.
when you awoke this morning, rather than the excitement you had expected, you were greeted with an empty, terrifying pit in your stomach.
as the day carried on, pre-wedding activities in full motion, it followed, and the void within only grew and grew. it was gravely unsettling; you were more fidgety, on edge, you hadn't been your usual talkative self. and despite being surrounded by your newfound family - jj, penelope, and emily more specifically - you couldn't help but choose to remain alone in your thoughts.
jj studied your face through the mirror, before securing your hairpiece in place. "there." her hands found your shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze. "sit tight, i'll be right back."
you nodded, blinking your eyes to prevent the budding tears from slipping - and to not ruin penelope's handiwork, mascara sure to stain your cheeks. she left, leaving you alone.
but as promised jj returned no more than five minutes later, only she remained at the doorway, her head peeking in. "someone's here to see you."
after giving you a consoling smile, as if she knew - profilers - she vanished, leaving door slightly ajar.
your hand had only just touched the knob when the door moved a centimeter back, slight pressure holding it still to refrain from opening fully.
"don't open it all the way."
"aaron?" at the sound of his voice, you fought the instant urge to sob. but the utmost amount of comfort filled you too. it took a second, but you found your voice, "you're not supposed to be here."
"well technically, i just can't see you."
"still." you insisted. your tone was flat, rather than being full of giddiness due to your future husband sneakily paying you a forbidden visit - like it should've. "they're going to be looking for you."
"then let them." aaron answered simply, not concerned about that in the slightest. "are you alright?"
you immediately fell silent, and aaron patiently waited a minute, but still - nothing. the extended period of quietness, scared him, given the day's event.
please, not cold feet.
and given the current circumstances, there was only so much he could do. aaron dropped his hand to his side, weaving through the small gap. "here, give me your hand."
your hand quickly found his, the promptness allowing aaron to breathe. the familiar weight felt like home; your hand always fitting perfectly within his. your hands always cold, his warm. yours soft, his rough.
his thumb drew circles on the back of your hand, an invitation to open up. "what's on your mind?"
you bit your lip in thought, taking a heavy enough breath aaron could hear it without straining his ears.
"honey?"
"first, i want to preface this that i do want to marry you. i don't want you thinking otherwise." your voice was firm, meaning every word.
"okay..." here was a brief hesitancy in his voice despite your promise; a tinge of worry, some question. however, he managed to keep his voice steady, for the most part. you, however, still recognized the waver of uncertainty.
"just," you released a breath, your voice small. "i envy you."
aaron was quiet for a moment, and when he did speak, the confusion was obvious in his voice. "you envy me?"
"you have," you took a breath, gripping onto his hand. "so many wonderful amazing people around you... i don't even know where to start. they've been with you, stuck with you, for far longer than i have. how do i compare to that? god, dave's practically paying for this whole thing. because of you, for you. no matter who you would've married, he would've done exactly the same. i'm not special."
"sweethear-"
"i want to be enough for you." tears pinched at your eyes, your hold on his hand lessening - which frighteningly felt like you were letting go completely. "you deserve," you took another breath, and this one rattled through you. "everything. and i'm afraid i never will be."
aaron only clutched onto your hand tighter, refusing to part. his eyes squeezed shut for a moment, taking a silent, deep breath. "are you wearing your dress yet?"
after all that, you weren't too sure of how he would respond, but you certainly hadn't expected that. "no? once-"
aaron released your hand. and after looking in both directions of the hall to be certain he was in the clear, he swiftly entered, the door clicking shut behind him.
"aaron." you stared at him, your eyes wide in alarm. you barely had the time to process him in his tuxedo, or have the thought to push him out. "you can't be-"
"enough?" aaron looked at you, baffled. exasperation, pain, and love all present in his eyes. "how can you say that?"
"i-"
"you... are everything. my everything." he moved to your left, pacing away for a moment, quickly internalizing a way to get it across solidly, so you wouldn't dare question otherwise again. he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "did i ever tell you, what haley told me before she died?"
you blinked in surprise, but shook your head. while you knew the story, offered reassurances after nightmares and the topic of haley had never been off limits, aaron had never gone into detail over... the final moments. you never pushed, never asked - if it was something he chose to keep to himself, to have that part of haley close to him and only him - of course you respected that. they were vulnerable, painful memories, not easy to relive.
he sobered, his posture and expression changing before you, alight with a ghost of the past. a tender, solemn fondness was in his tone as he recalled the line. "'love is the most important thing.'"
your eyes studied his face, silently urging him to continue.
"and while our relationship had it's hardships, she wanted jack to believe in it - love - and had me promise her that i'd show him."
"aaron..."
"he believes, because of you."
"i-"
"i believe," his eyes found yours, full of a sincereness you've never seen from him. "because of you."
you opened your mouth to speak again, but no words came out.
"haley was right." he chuckled softly, with a small shake of his head, "honestly, and while i understand why now, for a long time i was furious she made me promise that. because i wouldn't be able to keep my word. before that... day, i'd already given up. lost hope that i could find it again, that it was even possible, or whether i deserved it. haley and i were together for a long time, you know that. being with her was all i knew, what i was used to, and part of me thought maybe someday, we'd manage to work things out. and suddenly, she was gone. it was too late - i was too late. i failed her, and i'd continue to fail her."
"and then you came into my life, and turned my world around completely. never did i think i would love again, let alone get on one knee and ask someone to marry me. but here we are. here you are."
aaron took your face into his hands, as delicately as he possibly could - as if he feared he would break you.
"because of you, i kept my promise to haley. jack knows, he sees the love i have for you every day. and although he 'ew's' at the sight of us kissing here and there, he'll grow up understanding. he'll know the importance, as promised."
"and you saved me. you saved from a looming downward spiral. i saw it happen to gideon, it's happened to countless others within the bureau, and i could've been the next. i told someone once; it's consuming, this job will eat you up if you let it. but instead of letting it, instead of ruining my relationship with jack, you managed to pull me from that impending darkness i was headed toward."
tears were continuously trickling down your cheeks, utterly speechless.
"you're enough. god you're more than enough. and if that doesn't... i'll prove it to you everyday if i have to. if you'll let me." a broken exhale left his lips, choked up. "i promise."
still unable to find the words, and actions speaking louder, your fingers grabbed onto his tux, pulling his body to yours and wrapping your arms around his middle, burying your face into his chest. in the back of your mind, you made a mental apology to penelope, and hoped you weren't soiling aaron's dress shirt too badly.
aaron's shoulders dropped at the contact, in relief. he pressed his lips to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and holding you close. next, he's the one who took a shaky breath.
"so, i'm the one who should be afraid."
"what?" your voice cracked, peering up at him, your chin on his torso.
"baggage." aaron sighed, tearing his eyes away from yours, his hands running along your back soothingly - or rather, to soothe himself. "i'm the widowed father. i'm the one who's never around. i'm the one who's scarred, in more ways than one. i don't want to limit you, to keep you from a life you've always imagined for yourself. like i did with haley."
"don't say that."
"every day, i wonder why i'm the one you chose to be with. wonder why you love me. i think that it's too good to be true, that i'll wake up. or someday, you will."
"aaron."
he sighed, tears sliding down his cheek.
"you are not scarred, aaron hotchner." you cupped his face and angled him so he was looking at you, wiping the droplets away with the pads of your thumb. "far from it. the life i imagine, is with you. this is it." you found it in you to let out a small laugh, refreshing after the morning you've had. "that's why i was so worried."
he also couldn't help but laugh gently through his tears. "you shouldn't be."
your hand slid to the back of his neck, winding your fingers through the nape of his hair. "you've, very unfairly, dealt with the unfathomable. the unimaginable. but that doesn't make you broken. i find it admirable actually, and it's one of the things i love about you. you're strong aaron. to go through something like that, and come out on the other side of it, both the tragedy and the recovery part of it. a lot of people wouldn't be able to do the same."
aaron looked at you, listening, his head tilting as he leaned into your touch.
"despite what you think, you're a good father. i adore you with jack. and with the horrors you see, every day, you still come home with a calm face. you never fail to give us your all - your sweet loving self. you're always present, even if you're physically aren't here. because you're out there making this world a safer place for so many others. for jack, for me. you really don't give yourself enough credit."
aaron remained silent, his gaze beginning to tear away from yours. but you stopped him, with a finger under his chin to direct his focus back to you.
"you may have scars, but they aren't you. they may contribute, but they aren't you."
"are you sure?" his voice fell to a whisper, eyes desperately searching yours, his own dampened.
you nodded earnestly, your bottom lip quivering a small amount. "i've never been more sure of anything. i promise."
and with that, aaron's lips found yours, kissing you even more deeply than he had the previous night. from the urgency that soon developed, it was clear just how needed this conversation was, on both ends. providing closure, clarity. the kiss sent a buzz right through you, instantaneously making up for the all the lost time you had spent brooding.
you forced yourself to pull away - only when air was needed, and to simply stop. you would've gladly kissed him longer, and aaron likewise, but the two of you were on a schedule.
his forehead fell against yours, a rather boyish, adorable smile on his face. "so, are we good?"
you nodded, your lips pulling into a smile as well, the giddiness you've been missing finally present. you reached up, gently blotting away any lingering tears of his. "we've always been."
"wedding still on?"
you rolled your eyes, gently smacking his chest and making him laugh. "duh."
"okay." he grinned, pecking your lips gently. "i better go. if someone catches me in here-"
"-you'll be in trouble."
"big trouble." he grinned, pulling your hands forward to bring you in for yet another kiss. "i love you. you never saw me."
you chased his lips - just one more. "never did."
aaron laughed, his brown eyes just sparkling. "i'll see you soon. you know where to find me, i'll be waiting."
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beomiracles · 2 months ago
Note
Unless I’m blind but I do not see daddy kink listed in your kinktober which is surprising…
if I’m not too late Yeonjun + being called Daddy
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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DAY 26 : YEONJUN + DADDY KINK — “But what?” Yeonjun’s hand slides down your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “Come on, you can tell daddy.”
Daddy kink : Generally, it means you get off on the idea of calling your partner “daddy” and building sexual experiences and fantasies around that dynamic.
pairings yeonjun x fem!reader warnings daddy kink, softdom!yeonjun, sub!reader, overstimulation (f.rec), marking, light kissing, blowjob, cum swallowing, yeonjun refers to himself as daddy and so does reader, reader gets called princess (because I can and will)
#serene adds ✎ don't think I'd ever call someone daddy but I do need to be held tight (yesterday preferably)
EVENT POST
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“Aw, come on princess. Can’t you give daddy just one more?” The almost taunting edge to his voice lingers by the shell of your ear as Yeonjun presses his warm lips against your neck; mouth trailing over the fresh bruises he’d just left there. His body remains pressed against yours, caging you from behind as his arm drapes over your waist. And he makes sure you notice the way his hand deliberately slides down your stomach, fingers dipping between your legs to run across your spent cunt. 
The shake of your head is barely noticeable as you screw your eyes shut, thighs clamping around his hand to prevent his movements. “T-Too much daddy..” You murmur as you shy away from his invasive touch. — Yeonjun tsks, his hand withdrawing as it returns to your hip. His fingers are light when tracing circles on your soft skin, and his next exhale is joined by a low hum. 
“Too much?” He then asks, but the question is rhetorical. “You haven’t even taken my cock yet”, there’s a twinge of disappointment in his voice, “Isn’t that what you wanted, princess?” You swallow, stubbornly keeping your eyes shut, even when you feel his warm breath fan the side of your face as he pulls your back flush against his chest. — “Of course I do…But it’s..” Your words diminish into a quiet whisper, hesitant. 
“But what?” Yeonjun’s hand slides down your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “Come on, you can tell daddy.” — Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, and the thought of applying even the slightest pressure to your already overstimulated cunt makes you tense. You crane your neck to look at him, eyes fluttering open, “I can’t..” The short sentence comes more like a whine. But Yeonjun only smiles before leaning in to press his lips against yours. 
The kiss is sweet, tender, a stark contrast from the way he’d been biting and sucking at your neck not long ago. You can still taste yourself on his tongue, it makes you shiver. “Alright”, he hums into your mouth, the hand on your thigh loosening its grip when he pulls away. — Disappointed by the short-lived moment, you chase after him, a small pout crossing your features. 
“I still.. I still want to make you feel good, daddy.” Your determined eyes meet his slightly surprised ones. Fingers grabbing at the fabric of his shirt, desperately clinging on to whatever part of him you could access. — Yeonjun raises a brow of disbelief, however you catch the corner of his lip twitching as he considers your proposal. “Always so eager to please”, he coos, the palm of his hand coming to rest atop your head. 
And after flashing him your most convincing smile, it’s not long until you find yourself  on the floor between his legs. 
He’s got a pillow propped beneath you, making sure his princess was as comfortable as she could get. He takes his time, running his fingers through your hair as he gets it out of the way. All the while your impatient gaze flickers from his face to the bulge in his jeans, hands itching to reach out and touch him. — “Patience princess”, he sighs as he tilts your head upward, “being greedy won’t get you anywhere, hm?” 
You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as you await his next move. Yeonjun lets your face go as he leans back on his hands, giving you a faint, utmost unnoticeable smirk. “Go ahead”, he says and you don’t need to be told twice. — It’s with practiced habit that your fingers pop the first button open before undoing the zipper, quickly pulling his hard cock from his briefs. You hear him sigh somewhere above you, but you can barely pay him any mind, your attention far too fixated on how thick and heavy he felt in your hand, you don’t think you’d ever get used to it. 
You want to start slow, drag it out, make him feel everything. But you’re far too greedy, too selfish, wanting to taste him on your tongue as soon as possible. It startles him when you immediately wrap your lips around his flushed tip. The strangled moan he emits makes your already ruined cunt flutter uncontrollably. — Without hesitating you take him deeper, forcing yourself to relax as he slides down your throat, inhaling sharply through your nose. 
His hips twitch, and through the corner of your eye you catch his fingers digging into the bedsheets. Peering up at him through your lashes reveals a disheveled Yeonjun, his face a bright red and his jaw slacked as he pants softly. His dark hair, always sitting so perfectly on his head, now lays a mess. Then his eyes flicker down to meet yours, and he swallows back a strained groan. 
It’s only moments later when you feel his hand on the back of your head, not pushing, just, resting there. His cock twitches on your tongue, and Yeonjun curses under his breath as he tries to keep from jerking forward and fucking into his princess’s mouth. — You pull back to where only his tip remains by your lips, licking him slowly as you listen to the hitch of his breath. 
“You’ll cum down my throat, won’t you daddy?” The question, asked so sweetly, lingers in the air as Yeonjun’s previously light grip on your hair morphs into a vice-like one. “I spoil you -fuck- too much, princess”, he huffs, but there’s no anger in his voice. You smile around his cock, merely humming in response as you feel him twitch one final time. 
His cum is warm as it empties down your throat, and the sensation is oddly comforting. Yeonjun groans, his fingers still twisted in the sheets practically tearing them apart. — You keep your lips on him for as long as he’ll let you, gently cleaning the mess of his orgasm as you pepper light kisses to his inner thighs. 
It’s only when he grasps your chin, forcing you to look up at him, that you stop. He looks as though he’s about to say something, but you beat him to it, offering a small smile as you say:
“Thank you, daddy.” 
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drvscarlett · 9 months ago
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Let Him Cook Pt 3
Charles Leclerc x MasterChef contestant!reader
Series Part: 1, 2, 3
Taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life @ririyulife @minkyungseokie @mehrmonga @sltwins @charlesgirl16 @six-call @spideybv28 @casperlikej
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"I honestly can't believe that this is actually happening"you told Charles as you sit down on your couch with your laptop.
The past few days have been a lot of preparation for the three most important dish of your life. You have been replicating and timing yourself to make sure that you are a perfectly well-oiled machine during the competition proper.
Charles is currently in Abu Dhabi for the final race which is a complete bummer. He wanted to be there but work is work. So that's why he spends most of his available time doing a facetime with you. It was pretty helpful since his conversations with you helps soothe your nerve and helps avoid overthinking the whole process.
"You got this mon amour. You know I always believed in you since day 1" Charles grinned.
"I really hope that everything goes well tomorrow"
"It will and I will be watching all the way from Yas Marina to hear that my girlfriend is a MasterChef winner"Charles proudly states "I'm really getting so excited, is this how you feel when you watch me race?"
You laughed "Oh mon ami, you are much more stressful to watch with your high speed corners and those wet race misshaps"
"But doesn't this technically make me your WAG if you win? Don't they have WAG gossip accounts that I could be part in?"
It was moments like this that Charles made everything lighter by focusing on trivial things. It helps a lot with the building pressure that everyone has been placing on your shoulder.
Y/NCooks posted a photo.
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Y/NCooks the boyfriend is so supportive. I'm pretty excited for today!
Gordongram goodluck Y/N! Boyfriend reveal when you win?
User1 Gordon is so real for that Y/NCooks thanks Chef! Lets see???
User2 win or lose, you already made it Y/N!
User3 its just so wholesome to see how Y/N keeps the relationship private but never secret. I ship them so much
User4 i don't know if i want to be Y/N or I want to be her boyfriend
User5 goodluck Y/N! Get that trophy!
Final episode.
Former contestants lined up at the balcony with some of your friends and close relatives. It was a very surreal moment because you used to watch this sitting in the comforts of your own home and now you are actually the one being watched.
The moment that the clock starts ticking, you started to work. There was no room for any delays today as you were creating dishes after dishes. You have to use your time wisely so that you can finish the dishes you have in mind.
"Charles, were going out to drink, are you coming?"
"You guys go ahead, I'm going to watch something" The minute that the cars were back in the garage and the ceremony was over, Charles couldn't wait to go back to his hotel room. He was to turn on his TV to watch the live broadcast of the MasterChef Australia.
He was just on time with the last five minutes of the appetizer round, technically he haven't miss much. You were focused in tasting everything and ensuring that all the flavors are there. You plated really well and it shows how much you have grown. Charles is extremely proud of you.
"Aren't you a little worried to be working on the octopus so early on?" the judges wondered. The judges were currently tasting the soup that you have given them.
"I know that its a lot of risk but I have to push for it to show my talent"
The judges find the soup beautifully seasoned but their only slight flaw with the dish is that the octopus is a little bit tough due to the water not boiling hot enough. Its that flaw that sets a 2 point difference with your fellow contestant.
Charles could feel his eyes getting heavier from all the events earlier that day but he really wants to stay awake. He believes that Y/N could do it. The main course was a stronger dish for Y/N which is how she tied the score with her fellow contestant.
The dessert is the make and break for Y/N. Charles knew that its also her greatest opponent as you prefer savory over sweet. However, seeing the way that you are cooking right now that you have massively improved your skills in the sweets department.
It was tense as you run back and forth to the freezer to make sure that the pana cotta is chilled enough while you went back to your work station to mix the pot. Charles almost had a headache after seeing you trip over in the last 20 minutes of the session.
But all in all you pulled it off. The dessert was stunning and exquisite as the judges noticed. It was an elevated traditional pana cotta
"I believe we have made a decision and the scores are very very close with each other" one of the judges concluded.
The guests from the balcony went down to join the homecooks and Charles wishes that he could have been there for you. Instead, he records the moment through his phone. The announcement will be here in any seconds now.
"And the MasterChef Australia winner is....."
MasterChefAU just posted a photo.
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Liked by Gordongram, Charles_Leclerc, and 670,000 others
MasterChefAU congratulations to Y/NCooks you are the MasterChef Australia winner!
User1 That was worth the wait, Y/NCooks is now a masterchef winner!
User2 she was so brilliant! what a performance!!!
User3 tell me why is Charles Leclerc is in the likes, isn't it like 4am there in Abu Dhabi?? Didn't you just race sir???
User4 Seems like Charles is a fan of MC Australia User5 Answer the crowd Charles_Leclerc User6 Didn't Arthur and Lorenzo guest in MC Australia, they say they are good friends of Y/N User7 That is some interesting information User6
Y/NCooks posted a photo.
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liked by MasterChefAU, Charles_Leclerc, and 308,000 others
Y/NCooks I have a new plate!!!!
It was such a wonderful experience to be a part of this kitchen and to win this prestigious award. Thank you so much for all your support and love. This is such a dream come true!!
User1 im so proud of her
User2 Can't wait what's next for you!
Gordongram Well-deserve! You did amazing!
Y/NCooks this means a lot Chef! Thank you for watching
MasterChefAU Our winner!!!!
Charles_Leclerc 🏆❤️
User3 what even is that? you are putting sebastian vettel to shame with your rizz User4 Charles, she has a boyfriend!!!!!!! User5 Bro really thinks he can bag Y/N when he can't even cook Y/NCooks Thank you :')) Charles_Leclerc liked this comment. User6 SHUT UP, CHARLES IS COOKING SOMETHING User7 Silence for Y/N's bf, Charles is coming after your seat!
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norrisjpg · 4 months ago
Text
scott street - ᴍᴠ¹
in which, the pressure of the 2024 formula 1 season becomes too much for the dutch driver, so instead of leaning on his best friend for support, he pushes her away.
contains: angst, swearing, crying, unresolved conflict, unhappy ending, shouting, mentions of childhood trauma, depression, jos verstappen mentioned (ew), a gilmore girls reference, not proof-read.
max verstappen x unnamed female character
...
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...
she thought something was off, something wasn't right - and she was correct.
it was right after the belgian grand prix, after max had lost another win through no fault of his own, after mclaren had gained a few more points on his beloved oracle red bull racing.
she was there, she always had been, waiting for him after the race like she always did. although she had prepared herself, nothing could have prepared her for this.
he knew he needed her, but he was just so wound up, so tired of the shitty car, so done with the team that he couldn't even bring himself to look at her when he walked into his driver's room.
"hey, are you okay?" she asked softly, standing up with the dutchman entered the room, his usual sadness replaced with something else - he was fuming. "max?"
"i'm fine." he mumbled, discarding his helmet carelessly to the floor.
"do you want to talk about it?" her voice was somewhat comforting, but nowhere near enough to calm the pure rage bubbling in his chest.
"no." max sighed, refusing to turn around and look at his best friend.
she nodded, not that he could see her, but it was more of a nod to herself. okay, he doesn't want to talk, that's okay. but she also wondered if he knew it wasn't his fault, because he couldn't help a ten-place grid penalty brought on by his team, and he certainly couldn't help that the mercedes were exceptionally quick today and being held up by cars he was lapping wasn't helping him either - it just wasn't his fault.
of course, she knew he'd be annoyed about his race - but that wasn't the route of his emotions, his father was. max had obviously told her about the traumatic events of his childhood, long after they'd happened, although she was around when most of them took place.
however, she didn't bring it up.
"max?" she spoke quietly, her voice a little airy. "it's not your fault, you know that, yeah?"
"i know it's not my fucking fault." he spat back quickly.
"come on, max, please talk to me." she pried a little more. "it hurts to see you like this."
"oh, it hurts you?" he scoffed, finally turning around to look at her, anger ever-so-present in his pretty eyes. "how the fuck do you think it makes me feel? you always manage to make everything about you, don't you? just can't stand the attention being away from you for just one fucking second, can you?"
it took everything in her to not physically recoil at his words - he'd never ever been like this, and she wasn't going to lie, her heart shattered at his cold attitude toward her. she was only trying to help him and he was acting like this.
"nothing to say, huh?" he almost laughed, but there was nothing resembling a smile on his face. "you know what? just get out."
"sorry?" was all she could muster, an expression of hurt confusion on her face.
"you heard me, leave." he repeated it, squashing her hopes that he was just angry and didn't mean it, that he'd apologise and lay in her arms and just tell her how he really felt.
she got up, putting her phone back in her pocket, glancing over at him to see that he'd turned back to desk, fiddling with something on there.
hearing the door shut behind her was confirmation of what he'd just done - why the fuck did he do that?
head in his hands, he slumped down on the couch, already missing her presence. clearly, max hadn't meant any of that, but it was like word vomit. he felt as if he was floating outside of his body, watching him shove his best friend away, and he couldn't do anything about it.
outside, she stood there, motionless. what the fuck had just happened? gritting her teeth, delicate tears fell down her cheeks as she started to walk out of the red bull garage in aimless despair.
maybe if she hadn't said anything he wouldn't have lashed out of her? did she pry too much? why wouldn't he just talk to her?
"ah, good afternoon." a familiar voice came from behind her as she stood in the paddock, unsure of what to do with herself.
daniel ricciardo.
"oh, hi daniel." she thumbed away the salty tears and sniffled before she turned around - but it was no use, daniel caught on straight away.
"what's wrong?" he furrowed his eyebrows, putting a hand on her shoulder.
she knew there was no point in lying, daniel would get it out of her eventually. "max kinda... blew up at me? told me that i make everything about me and then told me to leave- don't say anything to him though."
"you know i can't promise that, but are you okay?" he shook his head, mentally noting to bring that up with max in the near future.
"i'm not sure."
...
a pretty afternoon in monaco had brought about a lunch between max verstappen and daniel ricciardo. a whole week had passed since the incident, and neither had spoken to each other - both absolutely terrified of what the other would say.
max was scared that she'd push him away, the same way he did. she was scared that max didn't want her back.
the reality was, max needed help - he needed her back. since his outburst, things had gone downhill. the car wasn't looking as good as he'd hoped in the factory, one of his cats was ill, and someone had rear-ended his car somehow - it was as if the universe was screaming at him to just apologise to her, get in his car and go to her apartment, tell her he didn't mean any of it and then finally tell her how he really felt - but max verstappen had fallen deaf, clearly.
luckily, daniel ricciardo hadn't.
"max, what is going on with you?" he asked as the two sat on the bench, slightly hot from the round of padel they'd just played.
"what?" he scrunched his nose at the australian, glancing at him briefly.
"you." daniel repeated. "you're drinking way more than usual, i'm the only person you've seen other than for work purposes, and then you pushed your best friend away - god, why did you push her away?"
"how the fuck do you know about that?" max snapped, quickly apologising with a look afterward. "sorry, how do you know about that, though?"
"she was crying in the paddock after the race." he nodded, pursing his lips. "told me what you said."
"i didn't mean to, okay? i miss her. i know i shouldn't have said what i said, but i can't undo it. i just... i'm scared- what if this is it? what if she won't take me back this time?"
"max." daniel said firmly. "i promise you, that girl will always take you back - you could kill someone and she'd still stand by your side."
"what have i done, daniel?"
...
she was more okay than she thought she was going to be. monday evenings were always reserved for max - dinners, movie nights, whatever they decided to do, it was together.
this monday night was different though.
there wasn't the familiar dutch laughter bouncing around her apartment. there wasn't the delicious smell of home-cooked food lingering in the corridor. there wasn't the colour of freshly bought tulips adding to her plain white kitchen (max always gave her pretty flowers when he came over.) and there certainly wasn't the comforting smell of max's aftershave stuck on her cushions anymore.
it had been three weeks and no word from him.
maybe it was time to move on. maybe he wasn't coming back this time.
she decided early on that it was his decision to return - he was the one who pushed her away so why should she make an effort? in no way was she saying it was for the better, but she was... relatively okay. yes, of course there were things she missed about him - no one wanted to do anything on a monday evening apparently.
so, she spent her monday evenings alone, drowning herself in blankets and fast food, watching some movie that she would never even the end of of - because she fell asleep every time, without fail.
so she did move on.
max on the other hand? he was moving backwards - rapidly.
he thought he was borderline depressed. rotting in his apartment with his cats, occasionally venturing out of the house to buy food or see daniel and lando - but that was it. it was as if all the life had been sucked out of his existence - all the colour, all the light.
so, when he turned up to her apartment on a rainy monday evening, it was a knife to the heart, to the head, to the gut.
he walked into the lobby, planning on going straight up to her and confessing every single feeling he'd had since that dreadful day in belgium.
but, he was met with an unexpected sight. there she was, smiling, with a man.
she was laughing, with him. they were walking towards her apartment, about to head into the elevator. if they were on normal terms, max would have waltzed right up to her and asked who he was - but he didn't have that privilege anymore, remember?
so, he turned around, shocked and almost reduced to tears, and he left.
if only he knew, she would have run to him in a heartbeat.
but, maybe it was for the better.
...
coming next... novacane, ʟɴ⁴ motion sickness, ᴍᴠ¹ (part two)
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touyasdoll · 1 year ago
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Humanity
pairing: Touya Todoroki/Dabi x fem!reader
word count: 1.1k
warnings: reverse comfort, implied unproteted sex but no smut, touya has feelings™, he's a little mean for a second but its resolved
notes: he just needs a hug okay?? I would coddle this man until the ends of days 🖤
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“I fucking hate you,” Touya grinds our through his bared teeth.
“Keep telling yourself that, but I know the truth, handsome,” you reply easily.
He bristles at the word ‘handsome’. No one has ever called him that until you came along. Not since his mother spoke that word to him as a little boy and he still doesn’t understand why you use such a word to describe him.
“You love me, Touya. I know you don’t love yourself. You don’t even know the meaning of the word, but I could change that, if you’d let me,” you say more softly.
His shoulders sag at that. He lets down the tall, imposing walls that he’d spend so many years constructing for just a moment, but he props them right back up again.
“Fuck you,” he spits. “I don’t need this. You were an easy lay and that all.”
He turns on his heel, intending to leave your apartment, but it’s hard. Harder than he thought, especially when you’re baring your soul to him.
Why tonight? Of all nights, why now? He can’t take this.
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” you say as you slip out of bed, heading towards the bathroom to clean yourself of the evidence of what you both just did together. To rid the proof of his seed between your thighs.
“It’s the truth,” he insists as he makes for the bedroom door, but he finds it difficult to actually turn the handle.
He watches you slip into the bathroom, appalled when he discovers that he can’t seem to drag himself out and finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed instead.
You return a few moments later, not much surprised to find him still sitting there. He does crave the love that you have to offer him and he knows it deep down, as much as he loves to vehemently deny himself of that pleasure.
"You're still here," you point out, your voice soft, a gentle whisper carrying through the chill in the room.
"I can't fucking leave," he whispers and even in the dim light of your bedroom, only the midnight moon offering light to the space, you still spot the bead of crimson rolling over his cheeks as he keeps his gaze fixed on the floor.
He never lets you keep the lights on when you do what you do. He says he just prefers it that way, but you know it's because he's too embarassed to let you see him properly with all his scars and marred skin on full display, even though you've told him countless times that you still think he's beautiful that way.
"You don't have to," you insist gently as you pad closer to him, approaching him as one would a cornered animals, because that's what he is in this moment. "I'd rather you stay anyway, Touya."
"Stop calling me that," he hisses, his voice growing more quiet. "I never should've shared that name with you."
His name. The one he'd uttered to you after mere weeks of coming to meet you in your bedroom late at night, when the city was quiet, but his mind was busy, too full of the events of the day and the wight of his goals weighing on his crumbling shoulders. He hadn't regretted it then and if he's being honest with himself, he didn't now. Not really, anyway.
"You don't mean that," you whisper, taking a seat beside him to rest your hand on his knee.
It's the truth and you both know it. He looks down at your hand and it only makes it that much harder to reject you. Why can't he shake you? Why can't he walk away and stay away?
"I don't," he admits, clenching his teeth as he feels an unfamiliar pressure just beneath the seams of the staples lining his under eyes. "And I—," he cuts himself off.
He wants to insist that he hates it, but that isn't the truth either. He doesn't hate anything about you or this or the things that you make him feel, except the fact that he knows he's going to fuck it up. he knows it won't work. You will disappear like everything else he has ever actually wanted in life and he is powerless to stop it.
"You what, baby?" You ask as you work a hand into his hair, your fingers gently massaging his scalp beneath his mussed midnight tresses.
"I'm no good at this, doll," he says almost inaudibly, his tone laced with pain and tight as the scars beneath his eyes. "I've never done this, but I know that I can't. Not with you. Not to you."
They begin to leak, seeping crimson tears over his cheeks that threaten to snap your heart in two when you spot them.
"You can't know that if you've never tried, Touya," you insist gently as you rest your head on his shoulder. "And this doesn't have to be anything if you don't want it to be."
"But you want it to be," he points out, his arm slipping around you to hold you close to him as his hand glides up and down your arm. "I.. I do too, but I'm.."
"Afraid," you finish, tilting your head back to look up at him. "I am too. That's okay. It's scary and that's not a bad thing. It doesn't make you weak or inferior. It makes you human."
Human. Something he hasn't felt for a long time. That's what it is about you. You make him feel human. You make him feel iike someone worth loving, worthy of being able to try to love another.
"That's terrifying. I hate it," he says, staring blankly at the floor of your bedroom.
"Makes sense coming from someone who doesn't seem to fear anyone else. Wecome to your humanity," you say softly as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck.
You wrap both arms around him, holding him dearly as he does the same to you. He turns his head towards you, nuzzling against your scalp before he presses a kiss to it and closes his eyes.
"I think I do love you, doll."
The words are timid, but they're honest. The most honesty he's offered you or himself since you two had met, but they feel right. A small smile turns up the corners of your lips as you hold him a little tighter.
"I love you too, Touya."
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akirathedramaqueen · 2 months ago
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Stolas: A Gradual Descent to the Bottom of the Bottle
This post analyzes Stolas's situation with alcohol and discusses whether the show effectively represents this systemic issue, and what it implies about real life.
The take is certainly not unique, but I decided to post it anyway to spread awareness about how subtle, seemingly harmless, occasional drinking can seamlessly turn into a full-blown addiction over time.
TW: substance abuse, addiction, alcoholism
Is Stolas an alcoholic?
The answer seems obvious at first. You look at him—all posh, intelligent, and articulate—and you might think, "He doesn’t look like one." You won’t find him, Satan forbid, somewhere under a porch, or truly dependent on the bottle, like drinking during the day—or not absinthe, anyway.
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Sure, he drinks sometimes, but it’s fine . . . right? Everyone drinks sometimes. Everyone deserves to feel a bit happier after something bad happens once.
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Or twice.
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Or thrice . . .
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. . . Oh.
Not so obvious anymore, eh?
The real issue here is that the answer is kind of between 'yes' and 'no.' My TL;DR is that the show makes it pretty clear his drinking is becoming problematic, but it’s not quite there yet. And it will become alcoholism soon enough if nothing changes.
I think what we see happening to Stolas right now is an excellent, textbook example of how people end up there. So let’s get into his head, explore where he stands, and what it means for us and for him.
It starts easy
It doesn’t happen in one day. It's not like you get up early one especially glum morning and decide, "Hey, that's a good day to ruin my life!"
It's a vulnerability that makes you susceptible to drinking. Constant pressure. Anxiety. Depression. Trauma.
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And you might find yourself wanting to do everything, anything, to get it out of your brain. Not think about it for one evening. Forget.
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What a pathetic fucking man!
Her attacking you, whether physically, verbally, in public or private. You, having no one to turn to, having no way to mend it, having to keep up appearances for your kid.
We all have bad days. Bad situations. It’s not to say that one wild night is inevitably going to turn you into an alcoholic. But when you allow the bottle to be your crutch for life, when it becomes a habit to avoid uncomfortable, traumatic events, then . . .
Then it turns into a coping mechanism
You know, it’s . . . it’s simpler. It’s comfortable. Soothing.
You can’t kick her out of the house. You can’t make the man you love love you back. You can’t get a support network because she ostracized you from royal social circles and made a laughing stock out of you.
But you can forget. Forget that one excruciatingly humiliating night. Where not only was all your dirty laundry thrown out on the dance floor for everyone to see, but also, that said romantic interest made it clear it’s only about sex.
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You used to have a smoking wife, a kid, you had it all! I hope you didn't give it up so you and him could get it up
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Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time.
Forget well enough to fall asleep drunk on the floor among the only living beings who didn't run from you yet. Maybe only just because they are in pots and don't have legs.
And it spirals out of control
Things get gradually worse. Your only lifeline—your . . . uh, romantic interest and daughter—fall out of reach. He finds every reason to avoid you. She hasn't visited you since that LA incident.
Your only power move with a divorce request turns into a lengthy, exhausting proceeding and leads to an assassination attempt. Your—what are you even anymore?—romantic interest pretty much ignores your distress call, or so you think.
You go with a showdown. You can't stand the ambiguity anymore. You want to know whether there's something behind your transactional thing. It's either 'yes' or 'no,' and . . .
It doesn't end too well.
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Lastly, you go to a party to try to unwind (or at least be polite, because it's rude to ignore invitations). But your ex's (???) ex acts cruelly, and you don't feel comfortable there. And the wound is still fresh, bleeding . . .
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Fuck it, the absinthe won't cut it. Beelzejuice it is then.
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And here we are, back to our starting question
Stolas wears a functional alcoholism guise. Or dangerously close to it. Because that's what I believe is going on.
He is still a functional member of society, but he is shown not being capable of processing his trauma without the bottle in hand. And, as things get worse for him, we see the bottle or the glass or any other alcohol container more often on the screen.
For now, he's hanging on, but it's just a matter of a flip switch—the moment when every second of his life will start to feel unbearable without alcohol, simply because there are no other ways to cope.
It's worth noting, though, that Stolas isn't the only character depicted struggling with the urge to drink away his problems.
The most obvious example is Verosika, who is a severe case of alcoholism. We won't delve deep into her character since I want to focus on gradual decline rather than the end result, but we rarely see her without a bottle. There are a couple of scenes where she doesn't hold one, but these moments are situational. She's also been to rehab at least once and only got out because of her reputation.
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But there is another character I'd like to dissect, because this will answer the lingering question, "Is there a way out?"
Blitzø, and why he didn't fall victim to this
We saw Blitzø drinking too, at the Bee’s party. To a rather disturbing degree, actually.
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But why does no one say he has an alcohol problem, even though he did use alcohol as a coping mechanism? 
Because Blitzø is an example of how the addiction might be prevented and what ultimately makes a difference, a turning point.
To start off, we first see him not in the bar. We see him at home with a pint of melting ice-cream. Dude sugar-bombed himself to sleep . . . after the already mentioned disastrous date with Stolas at Ozzie's, that is.
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And then he gets a call from Loona, who asks to pick her up from the party. He has no plans to stay there whatsoever.
But what changed his mind? Pressure did. 
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He was pressured by both Loona and an old acquaintance to stop by. (I stress that no one is wrong for this, by the way—he still had the agency to turn the invitation down.) He reluctantly agreed to one drink . . . which we know how ended.
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It's much harder to keep it to just one drink when you're sad and alcohol makes you feel better. Nobody wants to be sad.
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But with all that said, Blitzø is extremely resilient. In contrast to Stolas—who is strong in his own way but slipping despite all the privilege, magic, and immortality that Blitzø thinks make him invincible—Blitzø never let that one drinking occasion become a habit.
Because he has a support network. However closed off he is, he has his business to take care of, Loona, and M&M. He has things he likes to do and he has people he cares about.
Stolas has all the money in the world, but no friends or activities he could look forward to. He doesn't seem happy with his royal life at all, referring to himself as an owl in a gilded cage.
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So the difference is, essentially, this: Blitzø has alternatives and doesn't see alcohol as an outlet. There is a wonderful post from @warblogs17282 which has similar points I make, but also, it shows another angle of Blitzø's relationship with alcohol—his, unfortunately, long history with addiction in family. So that contributes, too.
Is Stolas a lost cause?
Gods, no. But it’s definitely a problem by this point. 
Is he an active alcoholic? Maybe not yet. He isn't Verosika yet. But he is getting there, which I think is the point the show makes.
Alcohol might be a one-time patch on especially rough days, and you might wake up the next day strong and aware enough not to make a habit of it. But the problem is, Stolas already has a habit, and he doesn't have anything to replace it. 
To solve it, he needs just that—a replacement for the bottle. Someone who cares. My hope is that one particular red lizard will share his pint of ice cream and his love. And maybe then, grim days won't be as grim anymore, even when the absinthe stays in the store, or wherever these royals get their alcohol.
Closing note. Why it’s important to talk about this in real life context
Warning: Extreme TMI
I had an alcoholic in the family, and this topic triggers me because, for him, it also started as "no biggie."
He was still functional for years, coming to work regularly. But he was slipping. He drank more, skipped work, and eventually became unbearable for his family—my family, even if not immediate. His wife requested a divorce. He got isolated. He drank even more. Eventually, he got fired because it's not appropriate for a director to skip work and reek of ethanol. The smell was so strong that people couldn't be in the same room with him. He tried other jobs. He aced interviews thanks to 30 years of experience and a solid background. But he got fired again because he couldn't live up to his legacy anymore. At the end, he descended into what you would call full-blown alcoholism.
So, you followed his story, and my question is: Did it start here, when he couldn't help it anymore? Or did it start a couple of years before that, when alcohol became too comfortable as an outlet for struggles?
I've had rough months too—with the war in Ukraine and everything happening with my family—when I realized it became comfortable for me to drink my problems away. Because it works. Because it’s pleasant not to deal with anything, to force your brain to shut up and be happy for one evening.
And it's terrifying to realize I had (thankfully, I don't have anymore for a long time by now) those patterns of thinking: "Jeez, I just want to drink and forget this happened."
Because I saw where it leads. And the farther you go, the harder it becomes to say 'no.'
So please, pay attention to the ones you care about. Pay attention to yourself.
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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 7 months ago
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request ! with either Peter parker or steve harrington (steve feels more fitting but whatever feels right) basically a reader who is very afraid of confrontation like they will just agree with things just to avoid any arguments or confrontation. like for example let's say he wants to take her out to a fair and they agree to it despite being afraid of the rides or the fireworks. and the boy starts to realise that they just agree even if they don't want to sometimes
hope that made sense ly<333
i too have this problem. gn!reader
it started when you were young. heart racing at the thought of disagreeing or trying to speak your mind, parents never listening to you so you assumed that strangers wouldn’t either.
you’ve eaten food you were knowingly allergic to, worn outfits for family events that made you uncomfortable, and you even said yes to a date with a kid that ate his boogers since second grade.
but somehow one unlucky action turned into you being close with steve harrington, one of the most popular and handsome guys in town. he was actually really sweet when you’ve mostly heard through the grapevine that he was a jerk to people lower on the food chain.
so when he suggested going to the fourth of july fair, you should’ve took the opportunity to say no cause your brain thinks too much about the structure of the rides and the fireworks blasting rattle your ear drums. but instead you dumbly agreed saying, “i love the fair!”
so here’s where you ended up. standing with steve in line for the ferris wheel, stomach twisting into knots and legs starting to shake. you kept your eyes faced ahead, trying to trick yourself into being okay with this. it’s not going well.
“you doing okay?” a soft pressure on your back with a voice over your shoulder. you didn’t bother looking at steve, eyes stayed forward with a closed mouth as you hummed and nodded. you felt like you were about to throw up.
“hey,” steve moved to stand in front of you. his hands holding onto your shoulders as he bent to be in you eye line. “why don’t we get something to drink? we can come back later if you want.” he didn’t wait for any response, just moved the both of you out the line then took your hand to head into the direction of the food tents.
sitting at a picnic bench with a water and shared fries, you slumped into yourself. “i’m sorry about earlier.” picking at the red paint chips.
“it’s fine. it’s just the ferris wheel, nothing crazy about that.” his words muffled as he chewed his food. you sighed then looked at him, “but for me it’s scary.”
you could see the slight change in his demeanor. his back straightened, wiping his face clean and looking only at you. “okay… do you want to explain it?”
you licked your lips, “i- i think about how they build these.” a hand waving about, “like they set them up within a week and then tear them down after and move on. that’s concerning! and- and fireworks, the noise!” shutting your eyes at just the mention.
“wait, if you don’t like the fair, why’d you agree? we could’ve done something else. i’ve been here plenty of times.”
“cause i don’t like being a burden or just confrontation. im use to just doing what other people want.”
steve went quiet and then he moved to sit beside you. your cheeks were puffed as your fist squished into them. “well you don’t have to do that with me,” rubbing a palm over your spine. “i want you to be comfortable so you can enjoy yourself. so if i suggest something that you don’t like, just tell me.”
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quinloki · 7 months ago
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Birthday Request Event v2024
Alright let's start off with the primary points:
1 - You do NOT have to give to get.
2 - You do not have to get to give.
3 - Read everything, there's quite a few moving parts =D
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Things You Can Do During This Event:
1 - Request a story from me (see the end of the post for the format!)
2 - You can give me a gift! (see "Gifting Quin" below!)
3 - Reblog this post to be entered into a raffle!
Details below the cut!
Raffle Prizes!
-:- 1,000 words of anything you want (within reason) - can be a one-shot, can be a demand for a specific title (make me work on that title you've been dying to read more of). Just has to be One Piece related.
-:- OC Cameo - I'll plunk your OC/self-insert into a story (that is not the Host Club AU ^^; )
-:- I'll draw something for you \o/ I'm not great, but hey, free art xD
Gifting Quin!
❤️ - Pin 5$ to my shirt - it's a local-ish birthday tradition.
❤️ - Share one of my stories and leave a comment \o/ You can do this whenever, but it really makes my day, so have at!
❤️ - Gift me a story, or some art 😳🥰
Ideas (please do NOT send me saucy stuff on anon or if you're under 18):
1 - Draw a scene from any of the stories you've liked! 2 - Draw Quill - by themself, or with you and/or your OC, or a One Piece character \o/ Quill can be a boy, girl, or whatever mix tickles your fancy. Have fun =D 3 - Draw what you see when you think of "Reader" for any given story. 4 - Re-write a scene for a story =O How would you tell me that scene? 5 - Write me a one-shot using the prompts below 😇 6 - Free form a ficlet, drabble, head canon, series of bullet points with ANY anime character and either a "Reader" or Quill =3 Spread your wings beyond One Piece (Wind Breaker, YYH, FMA, MHA, Habin hotel, etc - go wild 🥰)
Feel free to ask me ANYTHING if you're unsure of something
Birthday Bash Requests \o/
Finally, the part you've all been waiting for XD
*** Anon Requests Will be SFW only ***
-:- Give me some reader vibes as applicable (gender/height vibes) -:- Give me a blorbo (or blorbos) - One Piece only please ❤️ -:- Pick something from each of the lists below and then submit your ask! (any items not specified in the ask will be my choice 😇 cause it's my birthday celebration XD )
Pick 1 Vibe: SFW SFW dark SFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW Consensual NSFW dubcon/dark NSFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW noncon Writer's Choice (please include squicks if you pick dark or dub/non con options)
Pick 1 AU: Canon Universe Mafia AU Fantasy AU Cowboy AU Government Mandated Marriage AU Soul Mates AU Modern AU Hallmark AU Mythical Creatures AU Vampire AU Coffee Shop AU A/B/O AU Monster AU (you can say what kind of monster you prefer) BDSM AU Host Club AU Grandline Metro AU (Quicksand, A Light Touch, Heart of Gold, Thrice Prophesized are set in this AU) Writer's Choice (spin that wheel!)
Pick 1 Prompt: Angst / Bad End Aphrodisiac - sex pollen, drugged food, struck by needle, devil fruit Bath/Shower/hotspring Body writing (icing, ink, blood, etc.) Caught in the Act Contractually Obligated Creature x Human Date / First date Dungeon Erotically charged fight Experienced w/virgin Forced Proximity - box, flight, cell, bondage, get-a-long shirt Friend’s hot older sibling Fuck or die Lazy morning sex Long-Term Established Relationship Only One Bed Outside Pliant When Horny Role-play Roughed Up Size Difference (I write this a lot, but I do love it.) Soft/Comfort Sugar daddy/mama The hat rule They were… coworkers/neighbors/etc. Trapped in a Room Trying Again (exes getting back together) Unresolved sexual tension Wounded Writer's Choice
***Requests will be accepted from 6/1 - 7/10 - and posted from 6/1 - 7/31***
Gifts are accepted from 6/1 until whenever \o/ Don't feel pressured to get them in by 7/20 🥰
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ivy-loves-chocolate · 9 months ago
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Texting them “I need you right now”
Note: hi everyone! So sorry for not posting in months, life wasn't easy on me. I managed to sort things out (hopefully they will stay organised this time, or else I'm starting a new life in Spain), and I plan to write more. I'm also taking commissions again (the financial situation it's not good, so every commission would help me a lot!). Anyway, I haven't written anything since January, so please be kind with me.
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He won't see your text right away because he's a busy man. After he has some free time, he checks his phone and immediately opens the chat with you, ignoring everyone else.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"
The text is demanding, and he knows something is wrong with you, so he tries to finish faster whatever he had planned for that day, which he fails because he is constantly thinking about you. So, he dropped everything and came to you. 
Wesker is a man of his word, so he arrives on time.
"Have you been crying, my love?" he asked as he saw that your eyes were all red and your face was swollen.
"Yeah...petty reason." 
"If it was petty, you wouldn't have called me."
You wasted no time and threw yourself in his arms, sinking into his embrace and burring your face into his chest.
Being busy all the time, you barely see him. Maybe once a month nowadays, and this long wait only contributed to your sadness. You yearned to talk with someone like him because he made you feel safe. You knew he was listening, and you knew he didn't judge. Also, he would comfort you with small kisses and gentle touches and would praise you for being strong.
He moved you to your sofa, made your favourite tea, and listened carefully as you talked about your worries and recent unfortunate events.
During that time, he received a lot of calls and texts, but he turned his phone on silent because his main priority was you.
He hugged you tight, telling you that he'd always be there for you, no matter what. One hand would gently massage your hair, and the other would massage your back. It hurt him so damn much to see you like this and hear you sob in his arms. He wanted to hurt everyone who caused you to end up like this, and he was very vocal about his intentions.
"You can't protect me from the world, Albert. All you can do is be here for me when I need it."
He didn't like your response or agree with your opinion, but for now, he kept you tight to his chest.
He usually stays until you feel better, and then he leaves to do his work. He will be worried all day because you're still on his mind, so he checks on you frequently, promising to take you on a small trip to calm your mind.
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The government agent is always busy. He's either stuck in his office completing paperwork, training new recruits, or on a mission on the other side of the globe.
He wasn't away on the field, so when he saw your text, he immediately responded. Even if he was busy doing desk duty or fighting, he would try to respond asap (he will hide in a corner if he had to, if that means he'll get five minutes of peace to text you back because he knows how worried you can get). 
"What's wrong, doll?"
"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"
A pretty demanding text means an urgent need, so he left early, abandoning everything he had scheduled for today. That annoyed some of his superiors, but he got away without much trouble.
Leon tried his best to arrive on time. He was being pressured by time and worry; he drove like a maniac to your place on his motorcycle, but he stopped to buy your favorite sweets.
"I bought you something good," he said, smiling in the doorframe and opening the bag to show the inside. However, his smile dropped. 
"Have you been crying?" he asked, quickly cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. Your face was flushed and very warm to the touch, and your eyes were swollen and teary.
"Yeah...petty reason."
"You don't cry like that for a petty reason," he said as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You quickly hugged him and burried your nose at the crook of his neck. He hugged you back tight, a trail of kisses caressing your skin, starting from your neck to your face.
He guided you to the bed, where he listened to you and held you tight. His fingers kept brushing over your face, and his lips would occasionally press tiny, affectionate kisses over your skin. His body was glued to yours, and the warmth from such an intimate embrace made you feel safe. You felt safe not only to express your emotions, but you also felt sheltered from the rest of the world.
"You are not alone," he whispered as his hand caressed your back in a gentle manner. "I told you, no matter how hard it gets, we'll find a way to get through it together." 
He usually stays until he makes sure you feel better. After that, he texts you the whole day, asking how you feel because he can't ease his own anxiety. He promised to take you on a vacation.
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He noticed your text right away, but he's stuck with his research and can't reply instantly. He will text you back as soon as he can.
"What's wrong, mi bella princesa?"
"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"
With much difficulty and a lot of excuses, he manages to leave his laboratory and come to your place.
Upon seeing your red and watery eyes, he quickly came inside and cupped your face.
"Have you been crying?" he asked, worried, his fingers brushing over your warm, red cheeks.
"yeah...petty reasons." You tried your best to smile.
"Querida, you don't cry like that because of petty reasons." He gently kissed your forehead.
He pulled closer to him, and you quickly hugged him, buring your face into his chest. Luis kept kissing you and whispering kind words to help you feel better.
"Just talk to me, ok? There isn't anything in this world that we can't get through."
Despite the firm grip around your body, he managed to caress you with tenderness. His strokes were as delicate as a feather, and every soft kiss felt warm and loving. 
He was so kind and gentle, and his attitude only made you more vulnerable, so you started crying again.
"Please, my love, don't cry. It breaks my heart to see you like this." He whispered.
He guided you to the bed and cuddled with you. His arms were wrapped around your body, and his nose was buried in your hair.
"Is there anything I can do to make it all go away?" He said, hand stroking your back. 
"No, just hold me like this."
It breaks his heart to see you like that, so he kept thinking about making you feel better.
"How about you and I go for a walk?" He said this as his fingers ran through your smooth hair. "Or we can stay here and cuddle; watch that movie you like. I can make something to eat, and we can relax."
"It sounds good," you said, your smile making a shy return. "I'm sorry if I freaked you out."
"it's fine." He pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek. "You know I'm always here for you."
"I know, and I appreciate that." You caressed his face, your fingers exploring every inch, going through his fluffly hair over his beard and over his lips. You two were looking at each other with the same enamoured gaze as in the beginning.
"We can spend some time tomorrow if you want," he added, being enchanted by the shared intimate moment, feeling drawn in by your presence, and wanting to spend more time with you.
"What about work?" you asked.
"Don't worry, as much as I hate it, I will find the lab in the same place I left it today."
Your light chuckle made him feel a little better. Whenever you are sad, he feels his heart shatter into tiny pieces. You mean the world to him, and he'd do anything to protect you.
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He was training the new recruits when his phone buzzed in his pocket. After a quick glance, he gave the men a five-minute break so he could respond to you. Jack blames himself for not giving you proper attention since he is always on the field, so when he can, he drops everything and focuses on you entirely.
"What's wrong, beautiful?"
"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"
His subordinates were thrilled to find out that they had the rest of the day off.
He is a punctual man, so he arrives on time and not a minute late, holding a bag with your favourite snacks.
He tried to hide his worry behind a comforting smile. He quickly noticed your puffy face and teary eyes.
"Have you been crying?" he asked in a low tone, coming closer to you. He cups your face and brings you closer to him, pressing small, gentle kisses all over your face. His tenderness was endearing, so much so that warm tears began to drip down your cheeks again.
"It's just...petty reasons." You said it with a trembling voice.
"Bullshit."
He pulled you closer to his chest and held you tight. His hands were stroking your back, his head pressed to yours. His much larger frame swallowed you whole, seeming as if you had disappeared completely.
You felt safe in his arms. It was so warm and comforting, and not only his embrace made you feel this way, but also his reassuring words that he'd whisper constantly.
He carried you to the bed, and as he was sitting close to you, he brushed his fingers over your check and listened closely to what you had to say. It broke his heart to see you like this, and he couldn’t stop asking himself if, if he were there more often for you, you would still end up like this. This type of question tormented him, and you could feel that.
“I’m sorry, maybe it’s a lot too dump on you.” You said this as you caressed his face, your fingers trailing over his scars.
“No, not at all, love.” He took your hand and placed a lingering kiss in your palm. “I just wish I was there for you more often.”
“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. The important thing is that you’re here now, and that means a lot to me."
You felt his lips kissing you softly once your head was pressed against his chest. 
He still feels guilty, but it doesn't press over his shoulder as hard anymore. He promised to spend more time with you.
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twilightkitkat · 1 month ago
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Ok two things
1) I genuinely can't remember if I've asked this before but I would LOVE your take of the lingering after effects of the rant in the Honda Odyssey. Mainly because I'm going to talk about it again because it means a lot to me (Hugh Jackman my beloved you beautiful beautiful actor)
2) If you can make a tag specifically for the asks It would make navigation 10 times easier because I don't have an easy way of checking what I have and haven't asked (also sometimes I just want to read through everything you've said in response to stuff)
I've said a few things about the Odyssey before but I don't think I've ever answered an ask specifically about it. I have a short fanfic about this topic, actually. (Also good idea, I hadn't thought of adding a tag. I decided to tag my posts with #asks if you want to filter through them.)
The thing about Wade is that he tries to sweep his feelings under the rug. All the time. No matter how hurt he is. He tries to bottle up his feelings because he thinks they're stupid and that they make him vulnerable but they get to be too much and eventually, he bursts. So he holds all of his resentment and pain and fear inside of him, acting composed and unaffected, until he finally reaches a breaking point. And when he breaks, he breaks hard.
The issue with this is that because he's so good at acting fine, other people think he's fine. Or, well, as "fine" as Wade normally was. Everyone knew Wade had a few screws loose and that he was prone to impulsive behavior, but that was just common knowledge by now. He's insane but that's just how he is. But Wade is exceptionally good at masking genuine hurt as insanity and recklessness, so when his true emotions spill over it shocks those around him. He doesn't give any visible indication he feels upset until he suddenly snaps.
The Honda Odyssey is the same. Things are going shockingly smooth between Logan and Wade at first. They focus on doing missions for the TVA and through mercenary organizations together and manage to scrap together something resembling a routine. Wade distracts himself with the thrill of his new life so he doesn't have enough time to ponder or dissect his own emotions. Nothing good ever comes of that, anyway.
But Logan's words stick with Wade. Of course they do, how could they not? He took apart everything he shared with him and used it against him. He dug into every fucking pressure point, rubbing all his insecurities raw. And so naturally, they boil over.
It doesn't have to be a big event. They can just be washing the dishes and Logan makes a joke, or watching a show together. But suddenly it's all rushing back to Wade and the emotions are overwhelming in their intensity and he's breaking down and snapping at Logan, who's confused about what's wrong.
And Wade... doesn't know what to say. Because how can he explain that he's still hung up on a stupid speech Logan gave ages ago? It's embarrassing and childish, especially when he knows it's all true.
And he knows it is. Wade's turned it over in his head when he couldn't sleep, rolled the syllables over his own tongue, and replayed Logan's expressions as he spat the words out. Logan meant it. And he was right, Wade is pathetic. He's fucked up and isn't cut out to be anyone's hero and he's so unlovable that he couldn't keep the only girl who loved him despite his disfigured avocado face.
He knows and yet it still hurt for Logan to say it. For his hero, someone he looked up to and admired, to look and see him in all his glory only to spit in his face. To hear it confirmed by someone whose opinion mattered to him.
It sticks with him. It festers and grows and gnaws at him. He watches Logan for any signs of disappointment or contempt, is especially careful to bring up his past relationships, and remains on edge. He doesn't let himself fully relax or get comfortable. He keeps an eye on the door, waiting for Logan to walk out.
But he's fine. He's managing. Until suddenly it boils over and he isn't and he has to look Logan in the face and explain why he flinched when Logan yelled at him over something stupid.
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bosbas · 1 year ago
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Chapter 5: I don't want you like a best friend
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.8k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, sexual tension, miscommunication (ish), benedict bridgerton being an idiot, anthony being a slayer in response
Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.
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May 26, 1814 - Word has it that Benedict Bridgerton has returned from his mysterious disappearance to the countryside and was seen at White's with the Beaumont twins last night.
But more interestingly, the second Bridgerton brother was spotted with a certain Miss Y/N Beaumont about the town getting flavored ice in the growing summer heat, with Miss Beaumont appearing notably more joyous with him than during her interactions with other gentlemen she met at the Cowper Ball. While not privy to the intricacies of this friendship, this author does wonder whether Mr Bridgerton's newfound reappearance in the ton will affect Miss Beaumont's standing in the social season. Will suitors be too intimidated to pursue her? Though this matter might prove irrelevant, as Mr Bridgerton might decide to pursue Miss Beaumont himself...
Once again, you found yourself amidst the flurry of commotion that marked the afternoon before a ball. Only this time, you felt considerably less nervous knowing you had Benedict's company to look forward to. This would be your first time seeing him at a ball, dancing together outside the confines of either of your homes. You were quite accustomed to dancing with him. Both sets of your parents had been eager to teach their children the art of dancing, resulting in frequent informal post-dinner dancing lessons where you, more often than not, were paired off with Benedict. And you weren't complaining. He was a magnificent dancer, and you found you could just let go and allow him to take the lead while the two of you waltzed. Instead, you could focus on the feel of his steady hands on your waist, the handsome smile he cast down at you, or the shivers that ran up your spine when he would lean down to whisper something in your ear. Perhaps you were used to dancing with him, but that did not make it any less enjoyable.
Which is why you found yourself unable to keep still, excitedly humming and squirming around in the carriage bound for the Featherington residence. It was like your debut all over again, you thought, but with Ben being the only person who would be seeing you come out for the first time.
"Y/N, that's quite enough!" exclaimed Theo, clearly fed up with your antsy behavior. "Whatever is the matter? We are almost there; are you truly incapable of sitting still for a few more minutes?"
You glared at your older brother, choosing to ignore his comment but stilling your movements nonetheless. You were more than aware that Theo and Bastian were all but dragged to tonight's event by your mother, the pair being less than enthusiastic about attending a ball the very day they returned from their hunting trip, but you were not bothered one bit. If you had to go out and look for a husband ball after ball, they should, at the very least, be forced to be there as well. You envied their position in society, under no pressure to marry so soon and with complete freedom to do whatever they wanted, really. Your own literary pursuits were under somewhat of a time constraint unless you managed to find a suitable husband who would allow you the freedom to continue them, which was becoming increasingly unlikely as the season continued. Despite your mother's comforting words, assuring you that you did not have to marry this season, you honestly wondered how helpful another season would be if it was as fruitless as this one. You reasoned that you might just have to settle for someone you weren't particularly taken with, which was a dreadful thought, but at the very least, you were hoping to find someone who wasn't terribly dull.
After half an hour at the Featherington ball, you feared that "not terribly dull" might have been too high of an expectation to have for potential suitors. You were in the middle of a dance with some titled gentleman, his name you were not entirely sure of, who had been stunned into silence after you made a quip about a book you knew he should have read, as it was included in the Oxford curriculum you had been privy to courtesy of Benedict. Now, the two of you were dancing in complete silence, your eyes scanning the ballroom for any sign of your best friend. Just as you felt your foot being stepped on by your mute dance partner, you turned to see that Ben had entered the ballroom. The sharp pain in your foot was forgotten, and you relaxed, knowing you had an actually good dance to look forward to now.
Benedict eagerly entered the ballroom alongside his mother and older brother, immediately searching the crowd of people for you. Although he would never admit it, he was, for the first time in his life, properly excited for a ball. He knew he would be able to dance with you, granting a socially appropriate opportunity for him to hold on to your waist for a few minutes and feel the curve of your hips, occasionally getting close enough so he could smell your sweet perfume and whisper a silly comment in your ear. A comment that would no doubt make you laugh or at least giggle softly in a way that always seemed to elicit a warm feeling from his chest.
Unable to find you in the crowd, Benedict turned to Violet, who surely would know where you were by now, with a questioning look. She softened her features and gestured toward the dance floor, where Benedict could see you dancing with another man.
He barely heard his mother say over the roar in his ears, "She's out this year darling, with barely a spare moment away from a suitor or another," too focused on the man's hands on yours as he spun you around. Tearing his eyes away from the scene, he looked at Violet, who was already looking at him with a hint of concern. He swallowed thickly and put on a broad smile, not wanting to outwardly show what he was feeling.
"I suppose I'll be competing for her affections tonight, then. Hopefully she has space on her dance card," Benedict uttered, internally cringing.
Turning to Ben, Anthony leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder. "I don't think that'll be too much of a problem, brother. If you'd read Whistledown in your time away, you'd know your dear best friend has scarcely been giving any gentlemen the time of day. At the Cowper ball, Colin and I were practically the only ones she danced with," he said with a meaningful look.
Ben looked puzzled, not entirely trusting his brother's account of your season so far. He probed further, "A couple of men asked the twins about her at White's last night, so I just assumed she was having a lot of success." At the mention of the gentleman's club, Violet excused herself and went to go chat with some other mamas milling about the ballroom.
"She is having a lot of success, to be sure. Lots of gentlemen callers and the like. I just don't believe she actually likes anyone just yet," Anthony explained, seeing Benedict's shoulders relax just a fraction.
Trying to appear nonchalant, Ben responded, "Oh. That's a shame then that she hasn't found anyone she connects with."
"Are you sure you think it's a shame?" came Anthony's teasing reply, earning him a small shove from Benedict.
Just before Anthony could return the shove, you came up to the Bridgertons, walking as fast as was appropriate at an event like this. "Oh, thank heavens!" you exclaimed. "I thought the dance would never end. What good is an Oxford degree if you haven't even read The Odyssey?"
Anthony couldn't help but laugh at your exasperated demeanor, making a dig at your previous dance partner. But Ben was too eager to get you to himself. He softly grasped your wrist and took hold of your dance card, wordlessly asking for your permission. You raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.
"I can't say yes if you don't ask, Ben," came your response. Yes, he was your best friend, but he needed to show some decorum. Besides, you really wanted to hear the words coming out of his mouth, needing the sweet sound engrained in your mind so you could revisit the scene later when you were in bed playing over the best parts of the night.
Stifling a smile and giving you a slight bow, Benedict looked deep into your eyes and flashed you the most charming, rakish grin he could muster. "Miss Y/N Beaumont, would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?" he spoke lowly, sending you a cheeky wink.
A simple "yes" from you would have sufficed, but you were finding it difficult to form any words at all. Your throat had gone dry, and you were astounded by the intense effect his words had on you. Having such a close relationship, the two of you were as informal as could be. But here, in this ballroom, barely even touching you, Ben had managed to leave you feeling warm and out of breath with a more formal tone than you had ever heard him speak to you. You maintained eye contact with him, licking your lips in a failed attempt to get something out to indicate that, yes, you desperately wanted to dance with him. You settled for a quick nod, pushing your dance card-clad wrist further in his direction.
He clasped your hand in both of his, reaching his fingers to touch your own. A teasing smile pulled at his lips. "I can't take you to the dance floor if you don't say anything, Y/N," he retorted, throwing back your earlier words. You finally broke eye contact, shaking your head and looking down, laughing at yourself.
"Yes, Mr Bridgerton. I would be delighted," came your airy response. Your breath hitched in your throat as he interlocked his fingers with yours and put a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd during the short walk back to the dance floor.
"Very well, Miss Beaumont. But I insist you must call me Benedict," he said from behind you, lips dangerously close to your ear. You waited until you reached the dance floor, fighting goosebumps, and spun around to face him.
"Am I not allowed to call you Ben anymore, then?" you teased.
Ben could only smile down at you, a twinkle in his eye, "You can call me anything you like, darling."
Before you had time to process his words, which had undoubtedly left you breathless, the music started, and the two of you began dancing. It was a wonderfully familiar feeling, and you were gliding through the ballroom with ease, working perfectly in sync during every step, turn, and twirl. You were delighted. After far too long dancing with uninteresting or uncoordinated suitors, you could finally relax and just enjoy the dance, as well as the feeling of Ben's hand touching yours.
"So how is it, really? Looking for a husband?" Benedict asked after you had found a good rhythm.
Immediately, the topic clouded your features. You were unable to meet his gaze for fear of tears springing in your eyes. You bit your lip and composed yourself, blinking away any tears that had formed. With Ben, you could just be yourself; there was no need to pretend to want something you most certainly did not.
"Ummm... it's proven to be a challenge," you started, sniffling slightly. "Rather, I knew it would be challenging, but I didn't know how impossible it would feel. Every man wants a perfect, mindless housewife, and I fear I will be unable to fulfill that role. I want something different, Ben," you said, finally looking into his eyes. You were met with his sympathetic gaze, searching your face to take in all of your minuscule expressions. His hand softly squeezed your waist as you continued, "And I don't know if I will ever find someone who will allow me to do that. I can tell because barely anyone shows interest after they truly start to get to know me and can't keep up with the conversation," you added with a small laugh.
After twirling you around, he spoke, "I know, I can't say I envy your position. Truthfully, I would rather do anything other than get married at the moment, so I cannot imagine how you're feeling."
His words were thrown out almost casually, but you felt a stabbing pain in your gut as he said them. You already knew he didn't want to marry you. It would never work. He was your best friend. But it still hurt to hear him say it out loud. You were saved from having to respond by being twirled around again, so you simply nodded at him to continue, not trusting yourself to speak.
He sensed a change in your demeanor and thought that perhaps the prospect of marriage so soon was still a sensitive topic, so he tried to offer words of comfort. "At least you don't seem to have a lot of serious suitors right now. That way, you have time before you actually have to settle down."
But as soon as his words left his mouth and your face fell, he knew they were the wrong ones. You were staring off into the distance, refusing to make eye contact with him. The dance was almost over, and the pair of you were nearing Anthony once again, so Benedict knew he had to fix this in the next few moments while the two of you still had any semblance of privacy. Scrambling, he desperately searched for the correct words to say, blurting out the first thing he thought of to make you feel better.
"No, I didn't mean it like that, Y/N. I promise. You are so beautiful, and smart, and funny, and caring, and kind, and any man would be crazy to not want to marry you. With time, I am certain you will find a suitor who feels this way," came his rushed response.
Stunned into silence, seconds away from breaking down into sobs, you cut the dance short, disentangled your hands from Benedict's, and rushed to the ballroom exit, hoping not to cause a scene. The stabbing pain in your stomach was migrating to your chest. You were struggling to breathe and had tears blurring your vision, but luckily, you saw your mother near the exit and grabbed her hand, pulling her with you. She threw a startled apology over her shoulder at whoever she had been talking to and stopped you once you had left the ballroom.
Turning you around and firmly putting your hands on your shoulders, she scolded, "Whatever is the matter, Y/N? Why on earth would you–"
Stopped short by the sight of tears streaming down your cheeks, she softened and opted instead to hold you tightly to her, shushing you and stroking your hair.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked carefully.
You let out a choked sob, shaking your head. Primrose kissed the top of your head, not letting you go.
"That's alright, sweeting; we'll just leave the ball early then. Would you like that?"
You could only nod, holding onto her as she led you outside to the carriage. Desperate to go home and emotionally exhausted, you let yourself be directed into your seat and all but collapsed on top of your mother as soon as she was inside as well.
Back in the ballroom, Benedict stood frozen, looking in the direction you had run off in. Despite his utter confusion at your quick change in mood, he felt a crushing weight in his chest at being the cause of your distress. He thought things had been going quite well, actually. He had no idea why he had not been able to soothe you, usually an expert at reading your emotions, and had instead worsened the situation considerably. Wide-eyed, he turned to look at Anthony, who stood a few feet away. Ben was still stunned but shrugged at his brother, muttering, "Women" as an explanation for your sudden distress.
Benedict certainly had not been expecting Anthony to coddle him, but he could not help but be shocked when his brother's face transformed into a furious scowl, fists forming at his sides. He had barely reached his brother's side when Benedict felt Anthony's finger poking his chest aggressively.
"You are a complete and utter buffoon," whispered Anthony harshly, hoping to avoid a scene despite his overflowing anger. Benedict only sputtered in confusion, unsure of what to say.
"Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I heard the last bit of your conversation, and obviously, this is a sensitive topic for Y/N. A large part of the reason no man has bothered to keep pursuing her is that they know the two of you have an incredibly strong 'friendship,'" continued Anthony in the same tone of voice, emphasizing the word 'friendship.' "You would know this if you bothered to talk to anyone at White's last night or kept up with your supposed best friend at all. But you were off in the countryside doing god knows what for whatever reason, and she had to face this alone."
Ire bubbled up in Benedict, feeling that his brother's response was uncalled for. "I cannot possibly have elicited this level of aggression from you. What the hell does Y/N's search for a husband have to do with me? Who she marries is entirely her choice," shot back Ben in the same angry whisper Anthony had been speaking in.
Anthony stepped back, looking at Benedict with disbelief. "You are either completely blind or the biggest fool I have ever had the displeasure of knowing."
With that, he turned on his heel, leaving Benedict reeling, still stunned, not to mention confused. He was replaying every interaction he had with you tonight, trying to find what he said or did that might have set you off, and, hopefully, trying to find a way to fix this.
---
Cass sat perched on your bed, where you lay in your night robe with a puffy face from the extensive crying you had done the previous night. Your mother had been discreet upon returning to your home, but your younger sister had inevitably heard you both come in and went to greet you in hopes of knowing what transpired at the Featherington Ball. Not wanting to explain your heartbreak to either of them in the moment, you had gone straight to your room and locked the door, not even allowing your lady's maid to help you out of your gown. But you knew you could not avoid your sister forever. So when morning came, Cass had slipped in before the rest of the Beaumonts rose. She found you already awake, staring out the window.
"Cass, I fear I have gotten myself into a most precarious situation," you started. She said nothing, opting instead to pat your leg in support. Her eyes grew wide as you briefly recounted your dance with Ben the previous night. You were near tears again, the pain of rejection still fresh.
"Well, I think Benedict Brigerton is an idiot. And a massive one, at that," your sister huffed out once you were finished speaking.
You let out a wet laugh in surprise, chastising her, "Cassandra! You must not use such foul language!"
"It's rather warranted in this situation, actually," responded Cass. Ever the fiery personality, you appreciated her fierce protectiveness in this moment.
"Honestly, I've gone over our conversation about a million times since it happened, and I don't think he actually said anything wrong. He doesn't want to marry. I don't have to worry about getting married right at this very moment, and I will eventually find someone who wants to marry me. Someone who is not him," you said carefully.
Tears welled up in your eyes again, but you pushed through, needing to say this out loud. "All of this is true. If Colin or Anthony or anyone else had said this, I would be inclined to agree with them. I think-" you paused, composing yourself.
"I think I have genuine feelings for him, which I had not entirely realized were there, or at least I had not categorized them as... whatever they actually are," you finished, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face now. Cass reached over to hug you and moved to sit next to you on top of your covers.
You were still sniffling when she spoke up, "I was wondering how long it would take you to realize." Seeing your dirty look, she let out a laugh, "Sorry! I'm sorry! It was just quite obvious to me. Or to anyone with eyes, probably."
You put your head against the headboard behind you, closing your eyes in frustration and responding, "It's just very inconvenient that I feel this way. Obviously, he does not feel the same, which is obviously alright," you shot Cass a pointed look, warning her not to interject. "So, I believe that to actually find a husband, I must change my friendship with Benedict. Slightly."
"How do you mean?" asked Cass.
Rubbing your temples, you answered her, "Perhaps, seeing him less. So I'm not distracted. And so I stop comparing every suitor to him. And maybe not dancing at balls anymore. To have more time to dance with actual potential husbands. And because I do believe I will fall in love with him if we keep dancing like we did last night, which would not be helpful in the least." You had stopped crying now, your plan of action filling you with resolve.
"Are you implying that you aren't already in love with him? Because we both know that's not tr-" Cass attempted to say, before getting hit by one of your pillows square in the face. But this time, you were laughing with her. It was all going to be alright. You would find someone, and your feelings for Ben would soon become a thing of the past.
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