#i don’t feel like the person I made myself out to be
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crazyvik97rpg · 1 day ago
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William was the best, as always - it made Sebastian feel a lot better that he promised to stay longer today, and that they could even facetime later, so Sebastian could see their kitties. He would even come visit him again tomorrow! Sebastian was very happy about that- he honestly dreaded the hospital already, he just wanted to go home. Well, sadly he wouldn’t be able to until the end of the week…
„That sounds great…yea, let’s facetime“, he hummed and smiled softly at him, squeezed his hand right back, „And I know you say I can text you anytime but…you need your sleep too, love. I can’t just keep pestering you. Even if I want to“, he smirked a little, admiring him.
William then asked him how much he should tell - the soft lips on his cheek felt so wonderful, it made Sebastian forget the difficult aftermath of surgery immediately, heh. Even better would be snuggling in his arms - impossible right now, sadly.
„Well, as for our friends…ah…“, Sebastian sighed, really not too fond thinking about it, „…No. I can’t just keep lying to them any longer. They’re our friends. We trusted them with our secret, so…we can’t just keep this from them, what if they find out through someone else? Personally, if that was me I would feel betrayed…“, Sebastian pondered out loud a little, „Tell them all they want to know. That I had surgery for skin cancer, that I got the diagnosis like a month ago. …All that. And…that I didn’t want to say anything because…I still had to deal with it all myself, mentally. I just wanted to…have normalcy just a little bit longer is all…“
He was sure that was the smarter thing to do either way.
„Anyway…so then…you come visit me again tomorrow? But don’t stress yourself, okay? I won’t run away either way…“, he grinned a little, „…But…I already know I will be bored to death. I brought some books and stuff with me but…feels weird. Will feel even weirder once I‘m back home“, he sighed and pouted a little. He honestly hoped Doctor Cole would check on him soon, so he could be moved back to his hospital room. There they had at least a nice view out the window.
For I have sinned...
The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 
William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 
“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 
William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.
“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”
“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…
***
Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?
So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.
After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.
The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 
He was in for a bit surprise.
@crazyvik97
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lucyblue101 · 3 days ago
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I hate feeling beneath you
Satoru x reader
Authors note: The reader and satoru get into a pretty heavy argument but end up making up at the end :) angst to comfort
It began as a small disagreement, something neither of you would remember later on—a harmless difference of opinion about whether a certain mission could have been handled more diplomatically. But it had snowballed, the usual tension between Satoru's easy arrogance and your determination to stand up to him boiling over. You’d called him out on brushing off your input, and he’d responded with that same dismissive attitude that sometimes felt playful but tonight felt cruel.
“What’s with you tonight?” you asked, exasperated, after he made yet another offhand comment about how you “wouldn’t get it.”
Satoru sighed, folding his arms and giving you that cool, detached look. “Maybe because I’m actually thinking about the bigger picture here. You know, something that you can’t really understand.”
You stared at him, the words sinking in, stinging more than you expected. “Are you serious? Just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean you’re always right.”
His gaze sharpened, a hint of irritation glinting in his eyes. “You don’t understand what it’s like for me. Do you know the kind of responsibility I carry? I don’t have the luxury of being wrong.”
“And I don’t have the luxury of being constantly put down by you, Satoru,” you fired back, voice shaking. “You act like you’re untouchable, like you’re above everyone else, including me.”
“Maybe I am,” he muttered, barely meeting your eyes. “Maybe that’s just how it is.”
Your chest tightened, hurt pooling in your stomach as you took in his words. His casual arrogance, the way he looked right past you as though you were just another ordinary person—it felt like a slap to the face. You could barely keep the tremor out of your voice as you replied, “Wow, so that’s what you really think? That I’m just… what? Beneath you?”
He shrugged, dismissing the pain he could clearly see in your eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“But you said it anyway,” you replied, voice wavering. “You just said I don’t understand, that I never could. Like I’m somehow lesser because I’m not the strongest.”
His frustration flared, and he shook his head. “I didn’t ask for this responsibility. But I have it, and it means I can’t just worry about hurting people’s feelings.”
“That’s not an excuse to belittle me,” you shot back, anger lacing your voice. “Maybe if you stopped putting yourself on a pedestal, you’d realize how you’re making me feel.”
He scoffed, clearly getting agitated. “Oh, come on. Are we really doing this? I’m not ‘putting myself on a pedestal,’ I’m stating facts. You just don’t get it, and that’s fine, but don’t try to twist this like it’s something I should apologize for.”
You felt your fists clench, the frustration bubbling into anger. “You think you’re the only one dealing with pressure, Satoru? Do you have any idea what it’s like to always feel like you’re standing in someone else’s shadow, no matter how hard you work? To be constantly told you’re not enough?”
His jaw tightened, his gaze a mix of exasperation and impatience. “That’s not what I’m saying. I never asked you to compare yourself to me.”
“But you do it anyway, don’t you?” you said, feeling the bitterness slip into your voice. “Every time you look down on me like this. You don’t even realize how much it hurts because you’ve convinced yourself that no one else can possibly understand.”
For a moment, he looked taken aback, but the hardened mask returned almost instantly. “Fine. So I’m the bad guy. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it? I’m the arrogant, untouchable Gojo Satoru, and you’re the victim.”
A bitter laugh escaped you, and your voice dropped, icy and hurt. “You act like you’re a god among men, like everyone else is just background noise in your life. It must be nice to think so highly of yourself.”
He looked at you, his offense and indignation flaring. “Maybe if you actually saw what I see, you’d understand why it’s this way. But no—go ahead and make me the villain. If that’s easier for you, fine.”
Your voice came out harsher, more biting than you intended. “If you like yourself so much, maybe you should just fuck yourself in front of a mirror. Since apparently no one can measure up to you.”
His eyes narrowed, stunned for a moment, and you could see the offense sparking in his gaze. He took a slow, deep breath, his voice low and hard. “Fine. I’m going for a walk. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
You threw up your hands, furious. “Good for you. Why don’t you go do that?”
The door slammed shut behind him, the sound reverberating through the room. The sudden silence felt cold and empty. You were left standing there, your anger quickly turning into a sick feeling in your stomach, the emptiness of his absence echoing painfully around you. You sank onto the bed, the frustration giving way to a painful loneliness as his words replayed in your mind, every dismissive, cutting remark hitting harder now that he was gone.
The hours dragged on, and as the anger faded, you found yourself lying in bed, the ache in your chest making it hard to breathe. You drifted in and out of a restless sleep, the sting of his words still lingering, a cold emptiness beside you where he should’ve been.
When Satoru finally returned, the anger that had driven him out had long since faded, leaving only the raw ache of regret in its wake. He’d spent hours pacing the quiet streets, the night stretching endlessly, each step sinking him deeper into the weight of his own words. The image of your hurt expression haunted him—your eyes, so full of pain he hadn’t been willing to see. For all his bravado and confidence, he’d crossed a line, wounded the one person he couldn’t bear to lose.
He slipped into the room silently, the faint silver glow of early morning filtering through the window. His gaze landed on you, curled up on your side, arms wrapped around yourself protectively, as if shielding yourself from some invisible hurt. He could see the faint glisten of dried tears tracing your cheeks, and his heart twisted painfully. That he had been the cause of those tears tore at him, each breath tightening his chest with guilt and regret.
He moved closer, kneeling by the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of your breath, the quiet vulnerability of your sleeping face. His trembling fingers brushed the stray strands of hair from your forehead, tracing the soft curve of your cheek, his heart pounding with the realization of how deeply he’d hurt you. Without thinking, he climbed into bed, sliding his arms around you from behind and pulling you gently into his chest, his grip tight, almost desperate.
You stirred, his warmth waking you slowly from sleep, and your eyes fluttered open, still hazy and confused. “Satoru?” you murmured, voice soft and disoriented, as you registered his face so close, his expression raw and pained, his usually vivid blue eyes now dim and filled with an almost unbearable sadness.
He didn’t answer immediately, his face pressed against the crook of your neck as he held you tighter, as if trying to hold together something fragile. You felt the way his body trembled slightly, and a soft warmth brushed against your neck—tears, spilling silently down his cheeks. His grip around you grew even more insistent, his hands clutching you as though letting go was unthinkable.
“Satoru… you’re squeezing me a little too tight,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady, though a small smile tugged at your lips despite the lingering ache in your heart.
His response was a shaky, breathless laugh, and he loosened his hold just enough for you to breathe, though he didn’t let go entirely. When he finally spoke, his voice was broken, barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his face pressed to your shoulder, his tears soaking through the fabric of your shirt. “I didn’t mean to say any of those things. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were anything less than everything to me.”
The vulnerability in his voice took you aback, and as you looked up at him, you saw the unguarded emotion in his expression, the way his usual confidence had crumbled. His white hair fell messily over his eyes, his beautiful, piercing blue gaze clouded with pain, regret shining in the tears that kept falling unchecked.
“Then why?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, unable to keep the lingering hurt from your tone. “Why do you keep acting like I’m beneath you?”
He closed his eyes, a deep shudder running through him as he tried to find the words, his hands trembling where they held you. “Because I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking on the words. “I’m terrified, okay? I put on this act… this untouchable, invincible thing because I don’t know how else to handle it. I’m scared that if I let you see… all of me, the weak parts, the parts that aren’t enough… I’ll lose you.”
The admission cracked something inside him, and he let out a soft, strangled sob, his hands gripping your shirt desperately. “I need you, but I’m so damn scared that one day you’ll see past this… this ‘strongest’ bullshit and realize I’m not enough for you. That I’m just a mess.”
He pulled you tighter against him, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I love you so much, and I know I don’t say it enough. I’m sorry for every time I made you feel small, or like you didn’t matter. I’d do anything to take it all back. Please… just tell me what you need. Tell me what I can do to make this right.”
You reached up, wiping a tear from his cheek as his shoulders shook with barely controlled sobs, his usually confident face etched with heartbreak. His hands found yours, holding onto you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He squeezed your hands, as if grounding himself through your touch.
“If you want… if it would make things right,” he murmured, his voice trembling with raw desperation, “I’ll give myself to you completely. I’ll submit to whatever you want, let you have every piece of me. Just… please don’t let me lose you. I can’t lose you.”
His tears fell onto your hands, his gaze searching yours, a plea hidden in the depths of his blue eyes. The sheer vulnerability in his expression, the way he was willing to lay himself bare for you, stirred something deep in your chest.
“Satoru…” you whispered, reaching up to cradle his face, your thumb gently brushing away his tears as you pulled him closer. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I don’t want some perfect, invincible version of you. I just want… you.”
His eyes softened, relief and love filling his gaze as he pressed his forehead to yours, his fingers threading through yours as he held onto you with a gentle strength, his breath hitching as he let himself feel the warmth of your forgiveness.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely holding steady, each word laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache. He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, slow and soft, a kiss that spoke of promises and apologies, of the deep love he held for you, a love that transcended his fears and insecurities. His tears mingled with the kiss, a bittersweet reminder of the rawness between you as he held you close, your hearts beating in tandem as you lay together in the quiet light of dawn, with only the two of you in that precious, fragile moment.
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I hope everyone liked :) I’d like to know what everyone thinks 🥹
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girlfromthecrypt · 3 days ago
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I haven't posted to this account very much (or at all, really), so I figured I'd update you guys on the state of Such Happy Campers and Press Play. I don’t want to talk about the incident that led to me putting SHC on ice because it still rather upsets me, but honestly, I think it was a good decision. I was grieving the “loss” of SHC for a while, but I can't help but believe I made the right call. Continuing on under the circumstances would have drained me and likely taken me right down the road to writer's block.
Furthermore, and in hindsight, I find writing Press Play a lot more fulfilling right now. All my life, I've only ever written horror, so Press Play has been a wonderful breath of fresh air. It feels cathartic writing about struggles I myself have experienced, and it’s so easy to write about music. I love music so much, and I didn't realize how fun it could be to combine this with my passion for writing. You might have been able to tell from the sheer difference in word count between Press Play and SHC, but it's been so much easier working on this somehow. Also, I do believe SHC wasn't all it could have been. I only want to put out my best work, and I don't think SHC was quite on par with Press Play.
But what about SHC, you may wonder. Or you may not, but I'll address it anyhow. I have recently had an idea for what I might turn the original SHC into. It's only a vague outline right now and I won't turn it into anything more until I'm done with Press Play (I have learned that I can't really write several IFs at once, I'm not C.C. Hill), but I figured I'd let you know that the SHC characters aren't gone forever. My idea would involve the entire SHC cast, though some names/appearances/personalities may undergo changes. Also, I might exclude Anita because she was, admittedly, my least favorite to write and might not fit in with the new setting. Other than that, the IF would explore an interesting alternative to the SHC narrative— for example, the character equivalent to Basil Laurier would actually be a practicing lawyer in this one. Another prominent change would be the inclusion of Sawyer Wright-Garcia as a full RO. They’re the only one I actually have a clear mental image for as to where their story would go, and it is… nuts.
Without spoiling too much, the plot and setting would be very different. It'd be horror, except it'd start out very unassuming, light-hearted and sitcom-y, only to then spiral. I feel like I'd enjoy causing that kind of whiplash. Anyhow, that's that. I hope that if you liked and perhaps miss SHC, this post helped at least a little bit.
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weirdmageddon · 1 day ago
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the original post i want everyone to see is way out of my hands now, so i’ll repost this again here as new but separate post. it touches on things i want to go into more depth about.
@wasabikitcat gets this idea. this reply—thank you so much for not just understanding what i was going for, but putting my exact thoughts into cleaner words on the bad reading comprehension site.
i can't believe how misunderstood my point was about “spirituality” (i didn’t know it was that much of a loaded phrase!), but thank you for putting what i meant into more nuanced terms.
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it's something that can be hard for me to put into words, and maybe i gave people the wrong impression by using the word "spirituality", since words mean different things to different people. i just haven't seen people discussing it so i wasn't sure how to really put it. but regardless of terminology, this reply is exactly what i'm getting at. and this is coming from someone who has a very scientific mind. i wouldnt even consider myself a traditionally “spiritual” person in the normal connotation of the word.
edit: this one as well!
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i see this as a cultural/political factor that we shouldn’t ignore, because this sense of meaning has driven people's motivations since the beginning of human civilization.
there's a primal aspect that hasn't really left us but there seems to be no room for it in our modern culture because half of these “guides” seem to be driven by “i cant wait for civilization to collapse so MY ideology can rise from the ashes" and the other half of it seems to be driven by greed. and often they are hand in hand.
i would really like to see actual enlightening ideas stemming from buddhist thought, analytical psychology, collective unconscious, and archetypes to take off in the public consciousness. (completely divorced from jordan peterson. just the original jungian stuff)
i am especially supportive towards getting people interested in carl jung's works. his idea was to get people to understand, "what myth am i living?" based on the same archetypes and symbols that recur time and time again throughout human history that we can all collectively recognize regardless of culture. so it's a sense of meaning based in the self. i don't want people being sent down reactionary paths when looking for meaning in their lives.
i think it would benefit people to who feel lost especially in uncertain/unprecedented times like, with those “there's got to be more to this, something deeper,” insinct. i see that people are looking for this but get taken advantage of or manipulated.
but on this deeper sense of meaning in life thing, the Left isn't doing a great job at providing an option for “lost” people looking for meaning that the Right seems to be having no trouble with. i wonder if this is why we've seen so many of these lost young men flock to reactionary commentators?
this reminds me of an excellent point contrapoints made in her video about jordan peterson, saying,
“The last thing I like is that you talk about deep shit. I was watching a video where you and a couple of zany goons were talking about Plato and Aristotle and the meaning of life. And I thought, ‘Huh… on the Left, we don’t really talk about that kind of thing. All we talk about is how society oppresses people.’ And that might not be enough. Because people need to have a positive purpose in life. I mean, personally, I don’t give a shit. I’m pretty happy to sit here watching the same three seasons of Strangers with Candy until I die. But other people, like Dostoevsky, Camus, other white guys who talk about lobsters…they have this need to have purpose in the face of suffering, and like, not just complain about patriarchy. I guess it’s easier to not complain about patriarchy when patriarchy isn’t the thing that’s making you suffer. But I do think that an education that only teaches people about oppression is inadequate. We spend four years teaching undergraduates why capitalism is bad, and then we say, ‘Well, you’re educated now. Good luck getting a job under capitalism, bye!’ …And that really kind of sucks! But you know, I think that’s a point that can probably be made without comparing transgender activism to Stalin.”
speaking of her, this is a related post i wrote earlier on young men being radicalized and how to approach communication
and by the way, if you are interested in learning jungian psychology and want to see what it’s about, here are some resources to get you started:
i think the jung subreddit has a great collection of resources on its about page.
i highly recommend Demystifying Jungian Psychology to start. it’s meant for beginners. it is available in english and spanish. you can currently find the book in the comments section here. since sometimes these links lead to a 404, i don’t want to link directly to the google drive page. i want you to have a link to the original thread in case it gets broken.
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who-is-page · 2 days ago
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Greener Grasses and Fossilized Paw Prints: Where (and Why) the Greymuzzles Go
Author: Page Type: Essay Words: 1,229 Summary: Page's personal experience as an adult canine psychopomp, and how it applies to the dearth of older otherkin in general alterhuman community spaces. Answering the question of: where are all the older otherkin? And why do people always seem to eventually leave? Author's Note: The term "greymuzzle" is used within the scope of this essay's title to reference older otherkin who have been active in alterhuman spaces for extended periods of time (a nod to the word's original definition within furry spaces), and is not referring to greymuzzle's most frequent definition in alterhuman groups as a community-given term denoting an individual with noteworthy activity and contribution.
[Part of the Sol System’s Alterhuman Writing Project for 2024. If you don’t want to see these posts, block the tag #inkedclaws]
When I was a young otherkin, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, I found it difficult to conceptualize why there was such a dearth of older community members, especially those 30 and above. I could understand the theoretics behind the disparity, of course— social media platforms, as we all know, tend to skew towards younger audiences due to generational differences in technological proficiency/preference. Established adults with working lives and families don’t necessarily have the same amount of free-time that young adults or teenagers do, either. But even with all that taken into account, it seemed like the number of otherkin aged 13-21 in comparison to the number of otherkin aged 30+ was less a gradual decline and more an unfathomable chasm of difference. The community had been around for decades at that point, with plenty of ghost town groups and abandoned forums to demonstrate that fact… and unless the Veil was secretly age-restricted, those people hadn’t up and disappeared into thin air. So where were people going? And, more importantly, why?
It was a question I’d never been able to answer in a way that felt satisfactory as a teenager and later as a young adult. But now, feeling the call of the void myself, I finally do have an answer and an understanding that I never could have achieved five or ten years ago: why the fuck would I be online when I could be playing video games or having sex with my hot partners instead?
It’s a crude and simplistic way to put it, but just hear me out. As an established adult, I have access to funds, stability, and freedom that I never had as a teenager or even as a young adult who still felt at the mercy of an uncaring universe’s slightest whims. My support systems in high school and college suffered from the same sort of financial and social precariousness that come with the territory of navigating the world as a young adult, but my support systems now are made up of other established adults; while I’ll never say that everything is always perfect for all of us, it’s much easier to get on your feet and stay on your feet when your arms are linked with people who are more firmly rooted in one way or another. I have access to a type of freedom that I could never have imagined as a teenager, because it was literally outside of the range of what was possible for me and my peers.
And more than just that freedom is the fact that I, as an adult, have a family! “Having a family” has, in my experience, some shitty, heteronormative connotations. As a teen, I always took it at face value as juggling bills, kids, white picket fence, other boring responsibilities that eat up your time, etc. But as an adult, now I know that having a family can be anything you make of it, and I make it extremely, obnoxiously queer. In my case, it’s living with people who understand me on a deep, foundational level, and who love me not in spite of who I am but because of who (and what) I am. It’s not passively being around those people; it’s actively, enthusiastically spending time with them because it’s fun and because I love them too and because they’re my people and I picked them and they picked me. As a kid, I’d never consciously recognized the difference between people you’re passively around because you have to be versus people you intentionally choose to be around and who intentionally choose you right back. In part, this is because as a kid you often don’t get the option to make that choice, while as an adult you have more control over your environment. Too often online environments feel like the former, rather than the latter, even if being within them is, technically, a choice. But here, now, I have people in my household who will go out of their way to intersect their daily lives with mine and ask, “You wanna walk to the park?” ���You wanna grab a coffee?” or “You HAVE to see this YouTube essay I’m watching and no I don’t care that it’s 4 hours long on a topic you know nothing about, just trust me!!!!!” and that’s such a radically different and wonderful experience.
As an adult, I live with a group of people who make being alive more fun than I could have ever imagined. I have the ability to make my own fun in ways I couldn’t as a kid, for a variety of reasons. I don’t have to feel like an anxious purse chihuahua 24/7, agonizing over my existence and every possible thing that is liable to go wrong if I frivolously spend money on so much of the thought of a hot coffee. And I finally, finally understand why older otherkin disappear off the face of the Earth. It’s because being an adult nonhuman-identifying person is amazing in a way almost no one ever talks about: the euphoric experience of being known and loved, and of knowing and loving yourself.
There are so many exciting and wonderful things I could be doing in the meatspace with people I have actively chosen to spend my life with, and who fully accept and understand me as someone who’s queer, plural, and nonhuman. There’s so many enriching ways I could be engaging with my hobbies, the environment around me, and my local community. With this all in mind, why the fuck would I ever be in public online spaces where people try to argue with me about whether or not I exist, or if my experiences are real, or if I’m using the right and latest lingo to describe my experiences? Why would I subject myself to that when I could just roll my eyes, close the laptop, and go be a beloved canine psychopomp in the comfort of my werehouse instead?
That’s the crux of it. As adults with families and support networks, we have the option to not subject ourselves to the morifying ordeal of being known by asshole strangers online if we don’t want to. We can stick to just our families and our friend groups, and we will still have people around us who understand and who acknowledge and interact with our alterhumanity. The alterhuman community isn’t the only or even most important place for being our authentic selves; rather, it takes a backseat in the day-to-day life. It’s still something that’s fulfilling and worthwhile to engage with, but only on our own terms (terms that are quickly becoming incompatible with the ways Internet culture is evolving). But more often than not, there’s just more fun things to do.
In some ways, it’s kind of a relief to have had this epiphany. People haven’t vanished from alterhuman community spaces because they collectively ‘grew out of it’ like some anti-otherkin insist, or because the various generations of otherkin are so extraordinarily different from one another as to be oil-and-water. People vanish from online alterhuman spaces because offline life as an adult alterhuman is awesome. As an archivist it’s frustrating, but as a nonhuman, I find it a specific type of happiness that’s worth celebrating in its existence and prevalence. It’s an assurance that life only gets better as you get older: isn’t that grand?
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beautiful
pairing: boyfriend hyunjin x skinny fem reader
genre: comfort, soft smut
word count: ~2.2k
warnings: reader is insecure about her body, crying, pet names, unprotected sex
an: this is for the person that requested this in my dms (it won’t let me tag you but i’ll send you a message that i posted it!) and it’s also for @jsabimi (she didn’t necessarily ask, but i also wrote it for her lol i hope that’s okay) i really hope i did this one right. i am a chubby girl myself, so i don’t really have the reference for feeling too thin. im really nervous to post this but i tried my best to put myself in that frame of mind and i just hope it turned out okay. i hope it’s comforting because yall deserve that. ♡
masterlist • chubby girl version w chan
‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only • mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼
it was a normal sunday. soft lofi music played in the background as you bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up after lunch. your boyfriend had disappeared to his room, suddenly saying the urge to paint struck him and he must not ignore it. that was a normal thing for him, so you just chuckled and agreed. he hadn’t been gone but ten minutes when you could hear him calling.
“angel?” he called from down the hall. you continued wiping the counter with a cloth as you called back to him. “yeah?”
“could you come in here please?”
you folded the towel up nicely and sat it next to the sink, before padding your bare feet down the hallway. you poked your head in the room. hyunjin was at his desk, papers strewn across, paint tubes precariously perched on the edge. his hair was every which way, having run his fingers through it over and over. he turned when he heard you approaching.
“could you come here, my love?” he stuck his hand out, reaching for you. you smiled and crossed the distance of the room, placing your hand in his. he pulled you into his lap. he looked down at you with soft eyes and brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your neck. he kissed you there, gently, no hidden meaning or lust behind it, just a simple peck. “do you think you could pose for me?” he asked, kissing the material of your t shirt that covered your shoulder.
your stomach turned in knots. pose for him? like how? you looked at him. “i don’t know hyune..”
“please? i want to paint but i need inspiration.” he nuzzled his nose against the skin of your throat. “and you’ve never let me paint you before.”
he was right. and it was for good reason. him painting you meant you had to sit and let him look at you for who knows how long. just sit there and let him study your body. you didn’t think you could do it.
“why don’t you paint me some flowers?” you suggested.
“i’ve painted so many flowers.” he whines. “i want to paint you.”
tears started welling up against your waterline. you wanted to make him happy, but you really didn’t think you could do this. and that made you feel.. ridiculous. a single tear fell over your cheek and landed on his wrist. his head snapped up, analyzing your face.
“angel..” he soothed. “why are you crying?”
the acknowledgment of your tears only made them fall quicker, soft streams flowing down your face. he did his best to catch them with his fingers. “you don’t have to pose for me. i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he guided your head to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing gently. you sobbed quietly into his shirt.
“lovely, where is this coming from?” he whispered.
your hands balled in the material of his shirt, your head shaking back and forth, unable to get the words out.
“did i do something?” he asked. “let me help you.” he rubbed soft strokes across your back.
you took a deep breath, doing your best to calm yourself, before looking up at him. he was blurry through your tear filled eyes but you could still see the concern on his face. “posing for you.. is scary.”
he wiped your cheeks, petted your hair, did anything he could think of to comfort you. “why is it scary, my love?” he took one of your hands in his and squeezed. “it’s just me. there’s nothing to worry about.”
you looked down at your joined hands. “i don’t want you to look at me..”
an expression of pure confusion washed over his features. “don’t want me to look at you?” he thought about it for a second. “angel, i hate to break this to you, but i look at you all the time. it’s one of my favorite things to do.”
a watery chuckle escaped your throat at that. “but looking at me for a moment is different than studying me for a painting.” you tried to explain yourself. “i’m not.. pretty enough for a painting.”
“where in the world did you get the idea that you’re not pretty enough for a painting?” his heart hurt at your words. “if anything, you’re too pretty. i’m not sure my painting skills would do you justice.”
“you’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.” you sniffled.
he thought hard about what he could do to make you see what he sees. how he could make you understand. he thought if you would just let him paint you or draw you, that maybe you could see. “do you trust me?” he asked suddenly.
you nodded without hesitation. you trusted him more than anyone else.
“even if it’s scary, trust me. okay?”
you nodded again, your nervousness growing.
he patted your thigh twice. “go sit on the bed for me.” he kissed your cheek before gently shooing you in the direction of the bed.
on shaky legs you did as he asked, awkwardly perching yourself on the edge of the mattress and facing him. he grabbed his sketch pad and a pencil and held them in his lap. “now take your clothes off.”
you eyes widened in fear. “hyune..” you said in protest.
“do you trust me?” he interrupted. you nodded again. “it’s just me and you, angel.”
your eyes welled with tears again as you grabbed the hem of your oversized shirt. it fit you more like a dress and that’s the way you liked it. it did its job to hide everything. but if you took it off.. everything would be visible. you started to spiral. has he ever seen you naked in the daylight before? maybe he doesn’t really know what you look like. would he think you looked bony? would he be disgusted?
“baby you’re overthinking.” he said. “i’ve seen you bare before, and you’re so beautiful. this is just a different setting. it’s okay.”
you wondered for a fleeting moment if he could read your mind. and with a deep shaky breath, you lifted your shirt over your head and dropped it on the floor. you had your eyes closed, you arms wrapped around your middle. the cold air giving you goosebumps.
“there you go, pretty.” he smiled. “now your pants.”
the pants seemed easy after your top was off. you kicked them to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and panties. you still had your eyes closed, not wanting to see his face, to see the disappointment that must surely be in his eyes.
you heard him exhale, a shaky sound. “now.. uh.. could you lean back? rest on your hands?”
you did as he asked, putting your hands behind you and resting on your palms. you felt fully exposed now. your body shaking with fear. you worried that your ribs were visible. that your hips were poking out. but you refused to open your eyes to check. keeping them closed was the only thing keeping you from panic.
he exhaled a shaky breath again. “my love.. you are breathtaking.” you could hear his pencil scraping against his paper, slowly and then quickly, slowly and then quickly, as he drew lines and shaded shadows.
after what felt like forever, sitting in the same position, you got lost in your own head, with your eyes closed and the rhythmic sound of his pencil, you felt peaceful. you didn’t notice him get up from his chair and cross the room. he knelt on the floor in front of you and reached out to touch your thighs. but he didn’t want to startle you. “angel..” he breathed out, a soft whisper.
you opened your eyes to find him kneeling between your knees, slowly bringing his hands to your skin. your breath hitched in your throat as his lithe fingers came in contact with your soft thighs. he gently spread them apart, his fingers ghosting up to your waist. he slotted himself between your legs, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you closer. he kissed your skin. kissed your hips at the hem of your panties, kissed your tummy just above your belly button, kissed your ribs under the cup of your bra, kissed your sternum. your hands found his hair, you insecurities slowly fading away with each kiss.
“you’re stunning.” he mumbled against your skin.
you shook your head no, unable to believe him, but loosing focus with him being so close.
“you’re perfect.”
he looked up at you through his lashes as he expertly unclasped your bra behind your back. he detached his lips from you to help you remove the clothing item and tossed it over his shoulder and onto the floor. his lips immediately returned to your skin. his tongue found your nipple, swirling and flicking. he watched as your head fell back, your mouth open. he was doing his best to commit it all to memory, doing his best to take in every detail so he could put it to paper later. he crawled up your body, his lips never leaving you, but traveling up. he kissed your collarbones, your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips, as he helped you recline back onto the sheets.
he kissed you deeply as he hovered over you, one hand supporting his weight, the other hand rubbing softly over your panties. you sighed against his lips, your body tingling. his tongue explored your mouth, he tasted of the coffee he had with his lunch.
your hands roamed under his shirt to feel his torso, running up and down the expanse of muscle. the hand he had in between your legs, gently pulled your panties to the side. he slipped his middle finger between your lips. “so wet baby..” he breathed against your mouth. “so beautiful.”
he slipped a finger inside, and then another, slowly pushing in and pulling out, curling them to touch that special spot inside. your nails dug into his bare shoulders, a gasp falling past your lips. he continued his motions, the sounds of your arousal floating in the air around you. and too soon for your liking, he removed his fingers and sat back on his heels. he looked down at you, admiring. and you could see nothing but love in his eyes. maybe a pinch of lust clouded his vision, but mostly love.
“you are so beautiful.” he ran his fingers over the skin of your tummy. “i could never paint this. i could never get it right. but god i want to try.”
he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, along with his boxers, kicking them off. he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it in the same direction of his pants, a growing pile of both your clothes on the floor.
he grasped himself in his hand, rubbing up and down, spreading his arousal along his shaft. “do you see what you do to me?”
“please..” you reached for him, quietly begging.
he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed himself in. his body fell on top of yours. one hand cradling your head, the other hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers together. his head was buried in your neck, kissing and licking your skin as he breathed in your ear. you moaned at the feeling of him inside of you. “my love..” he breathed. “so beautiful, my love.. fuck..”
his thrusts increased in speed and you fluttered around him. “feels so good..” you whined.
“you’re a goddess..” he kissed your neck and bit your earlobe. “i can’t last much longer.. cum with me.”
and with a sigh of his name, you let go around him, squeezing him, causing him to release inside you with a whimper.
he collapsed next to you, breathing heavy and kissing every inch of skin he could reach with his lips. he collected himself for a moment, enjoying this proximity, before pulling away and standing up. you admired his body, his muscled back, as he returned to his chair at his desk.
“where are you going?” you pouted.
“i have to finish the sketch.” he said, grabbing his pad and pencil. “i got too excited earlier while looking at you and couldn’t finish it.” his face flushed with his confession and you smiled, eyes falling closed in a state of bliss.
you were almost asleep when you heard him get up and return to the bed. he sat next to you and presented you with the sketch. you looked at the paper and then looked at him, shocked. you sat up and took the paper from him, tracing the lines with your finger. “hyune.. this is..”
“beautiful?”
you looked at him. it was. that’s what it was. it was beautiful. “this is me..?” you asked in disbelief. but of course it was. you could see it. it was clearly you. the point of your nose, the curve of your shoulder, he even added a little color on your cheeks and lips. it was definitely you and it was beautiful.
“this is how i see you.” he said. “and it doesn’t even come close to capturing how truly stunning you really are.”
and for the first time.. you kind of believed him. you could see it with your own eyes. a work of art in front of you. and you were sure that your insecurities would return. but now you knew, that in those moments, you could return to hyunjin. return to his sketch, and be reminded that you really are beautiful.
ᯓᡣ𐭩
♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡
©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.
am i posting this at 11am on a tuesday? you bet i am. when inspiration strikes, you gotta roll with it. ik ive been posting a lot of ramblings and depressing shit on my blog recently and i really appreciate you guys letting me do that. am i back now? idk. i hope so. fingers crossed. ♡
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eu-nicola · 19 hours ago
Text
the finish line part 3
part 1 part 2
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summary: you are the girlfriend of Lando Norris, Max Verstappen's rival with whom the tension between the two is undeniable.
warnings: nothing
word counter: 6122
author's note: english is not my first language, penultimate part
tags: @ferakillia @bunnies-p1tst0p @maluzets55
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Determined to work things out, you called Lando and asked to speak in person. Even though deep down you already knew it would be a difficult and probably painful conversation, you also knew you couldn’t keep running away from your problems. Lando agreed to meet you at the hotel cafeteria, though his tone on the phone sounded tense and distant.
As you got ready, your stomach was turning. You thought back to the pictures and messages you’d received, the missed calls Lando had made to you after being discovered, and everything that had happened between you and Max. You took a breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, wanting to feel safe, and walked out to Lando’s hotel.
When you got to the cafeteria, you found him already waiting for you at a table in the back. He had a stiff posture, his hands folded in front of him on the table and his gaze fixed on the coffee in front of him. His eyes lifted slightly when he saw you arrive, and you noticed the mix of discomfort and guilt he was trying to hide under a calm facade.
You sat in silence, watching him carefully. After a few seconds, he broke the silence.
“Look, I don’t want… this conversation to get out of hand,” Lando began, his voice wavering. “I know you’re upset, and I’m clear on why. I just want you to know that… it wasn’t what it seemed.”
You looked at him, eyes narrowing. His words sounded forced, as if he was trying to convince himself of what he was saying. It hurt you to see him like this, so changed, so full of insecurity.
“It wasn’t what it seemed, Lando?” you asked, keeping your tone firm. “I saw the photos. Everyone has seen them.”
He frowned, clearly upset.
“You don’t have to make this any harder,” he replied in a defensive tone. “It was a mistake. I was just… I needed to distract myself.” But that doesn't change how I feel about you.
A mixture of anger and disappointment ran through you. You had expected a sincere apology, something more than excuses and empty promises. You tried to remain calm, but your words came out with the coldness of truth.
"How I feel has changed too, Lando," you said quietly. "All of this... I don't know if it makes sense."
Lando lowered his gaze, but you noticed that he still maintained that defensive air. It was clear that he wasn't fully assuming his responsibility; he didn't seem willing to face the consequences of his decisions.
"So this is it?" he asked in a bitter tone. "For a mistake? You weren't even there to support me like you always do. And what was I supposed to do?" His words sounded reproachful, as if he were trying to transfer part of the blame to you.
You bit your lip, holding back your fury. You knew it had been difficult for him not to have you around, but that didn't justify his attitude. Finally, you gathered your courage and faced the issue once and for all.
“This isn’t just about what happened, Lando. There’s something bigger going on here,” you told him firmly. “I need some time to think, to get clear on what I really want. I can’t stay in a relationship where I constantly have to worry about whether or not you’ll do the right thing when I’m gone.”
He gulped, and for a moment, you saw a flash of genuine pain in his eyes. But instead of acknowledging the problem, he chose to back away once again.
“Do what you want then,” he said, letting out a frustrated sigh and looking away. “If you need time, go ahead. I’m not going to stop you.”
Those words were confirmation of everything you had felt during this last stage of your relationship. Without further ado, you stood up, leaving one last glance at the one you had considered your partner for so long. There was a moment of silence between the two of you, and then you turned around and walked out of the coffee shop without looking back.
As you walked away, you felt a strange mix of relief and sadness. You had hoped that this conversation would bring you some sort of peace, a reconciliation, or at least a heartfelt explanation. But instead, it only confirmed what you already feared: perhaps it was time to put an end to it.
Back in your hotel room, you took a seat on the bed and looked around, trying to process everything that had happened. The room was silent, and the weight of your decision began to settle in, bringing with it a wave of conflicting emotions. You pulled out your phone and, almost without thinking, opened the message Max had sent you hours ago, wondering how your conversation with Lando had gone.
Without much hesitation, you wrote him a short reply.
You: “We just talked… and I think I need some time to sort out my feelings.”
After a few minutes, the phone vibrated. Max had replied:
Max: “Do whatever you need. Just remember that if you decide to move on, I’m here for you. You don’t have to face it alone.”
Reading his words, you felt a small spark of calm, as if the weight of everything that had happened had lightened a little. You knew that this time away would be necessary to understand what it was that you really wanted, but there was one thing clear in all of this: you needed to feel authentic again, without the shadows of a relationship that had begun to consume more than it offered.
Even though you wanted to take some time off, the last race of the year was being held in Abu Dhabi, and you had to attend. For you, the trip had a professional purpose: the promotion of Rolex. Despite having distanced yourself from Lando and having spent a few days trying to find clarity about your feelings, you knew that this race would also be the closing of an intense and emotional season.
Dressed elegantly, you wore a shiny Rolex watch that caught the light with every movement. As you walked through the paddock, you felt the gazes of some acquaintances and other members of the industry; everyone knew that you had been a constant figure in Lando's team, and now it seemed strange to see you in an independent context.
While you were fulfilling your promotional tasks, you crossed paths with Max. He wore his usual determined expression, but this time there was something different in his gaze. When he saw you, his eyes lit up slightly, as if something in him had made up his mind. You noticed that, despite the crowd, his steps were heading straight towards you, with a confidence that made your pulse race.
"Hey," he said, smiling slightly. "I didn't think I'd find you here so early. How have you been?" His tone was warm, close, something different from the previous times.
“I'm… fine, I guess” you answered, trying to sound casual, although the closeness made you feel a mix of nervousness and curiosity. “I had to be here for Rolex. You know what this sponsorship thing is like.”
He nodded, and for a moment they remained silent, watching the hustle and bustle of preparations around them.
“I know things have been complicated for you lately” Max said, with a more serious tone than usual. “And I don't want to seem nosy, but… I haven't stopped thinking about what we talked about last time.”
The sincerity in his words threw you off a little. You had tried to stay distant, focus on yourself, and not think about everything you had experienced. But there was Max, with his penetrating gaze and his usual confidence, willing to open up in a way that you hadn't seen in him until now.
“I'm not here to pressure you” he continued, looking into your eyes. “I just wanted you to know that… I’m willing to fight for you, if you just give me a chance.”
His confession resonated with you, breaking the barrier you had built up over the past few weeks. You felt like it wasn’t just a passing statement; there was a depth to his words that made you doubt everything you had tried to rationalize. Deep down, something in you had been waiting to hear this, though you refused to admit it.
“Max…” you began, not knowing exactly how to express what you felt. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. After everything that’s happened, I’m not sure that getting more involved is the best thing for either of us.”
He nodded, listening to each word patiently.
“I know,” he replied. “But there’s something I’ve learned this season, and that is that important opportunities aren’t always the easiest ones. I’ve been avoiding speaking clearly to you because I didn’t want to make things more complicated for you. But if I’m honest, I can’t pretend that I don’t care about you.”
The seriousness in his eyes left you speechless. He wasn’t the usual Max, arrogant and competitive; he was someone vulnerable, showing a part of him that was rarely seen. And although a part of you wanted to keep putting up barriers, another, deeper part of you was starting to give in to his words and his sincerity.
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.
“What happened with Lando was difficult… and I don’t want you to be just a distraction, Max.” It wouldn't be fair to either of you.
He took a step closer, not invading your personal space, but enough for you to feel his presence more intensely.
"I'm not someone who'll settle for being a distraction," he said with a slight smile, but his tone was firm. "What I feel for you is real. And if you give me the chance, I'm willing to show you that I'm someone you can trust."
His words enveloped you, making you feel a warmth and security that you hadn't experienced in a long time. The hardness of the breakup with Lando was still present, but Max's presence offered you an alternative, a chance to rediscover what you really wanted and, perhaps, to be happy in a fuller sense.
After a few seconds of silence, you took a breath, letting your own emotions take control.
"I don't know what will happen after all this..." you murmured, looking at the floor for a moment before looking up and meeting his gaze. "But I think I'm willing to see where this takes us."
The smile on his face was almost imperceptible, but his eyes shone with a mix of determination and tenderness.
“Then I’ll start showing it from now on,” he said, taking your hand gently. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, I just want you to know that I’m here for you. No matter how long it takes.”
After that brief exchange with Max, he said goodbye with a wink and walked away, leaving behind a feeling of anticipation that you couldn’t shake. You watched as he walked towards the Red Bull paddock, surrounded by his team, while you stood still for a moment, trying to clear your thoughts.
You decided it was time to move as well. You walked through the paddock area, the hustle and bustle around you. Drivers, engineers and journalists came and went, all focused on their own roles.
Suddenly, you saw him. Lando was up ahead, briefly chatting with one of the McLaren mechanics. He turned slightly, and for a moment, his eyes met yours. It was an instant, there was no smile, no nod of recognition, just eye contact that spoke of everything beneath the surface. He seemed distant, almost cold, and before you could say anything, he looked away and kept walking.
You stood still, feeling a knot form in your stomach. That small gesture, or lack thereof, hit you harder than you expected. You knew Lando was in his zone of concentration, but you couldn’t ignore the growing emotional distance that seemed to exist between you since you arrived in Qatar.
You took a deep breath and forced yourself to keep walking, telling yourself that you couldn’t read too much into a simple glance. But the awkwardness remained.
As you left the paddock area you went straight to the VIP area to watch the race. The race was certainly a spectacle from the start. Max started from pole, while Lando started from second position.
From the first lap, Max took the lead, controlling the pace with ruthless precision. Behind him, Lando followed closely, pushing at every opportunity. But as the laps progressed, it became clear that Red Bull had fine-tuned their car to perfection. Max seemed untouchable.
Lando, however, was not giving up. He kept fighting, looking for every millimetre of advantage, every opportunity to close the gap. Until lap 38 came around. It all happened in the blink of an eye. In the fast corner before the main straight, Lando's car lost grip. Perhaps a miscalculation or just bad luck, but the McLaren hit the wall with a sharp impact. The yellow flag waved immediately, and your heart skipped a beat.
From your spot, your eyes were fixed on the giant screen, watching anxiously. Lando got out of the car quickly, waving his hands to indicate that he was okay, but you could see the frustration in his every move. He was furious.
As the McLaren team scrambled to pick up the remains of the car, the race continued. Max continued to dominate, and with each lap, his victory became more inevitable. Finally, he crossed the finish line in first place, securing the race win. Fireworks lit up the sky, and the Red Bull team erupted in celebrations.
When it was all over, you headed towards the McLaren paddock, where you saw him surrounded by his team, his face grim and his brow furrowed. There was no trace of the carefree smile he normally wore.
As he spoke to his engineers, you locked eyes with him for a brief second. He looked exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally. But he didn't say anything, and neither did you. Without exchanging words, you turned around and began walking towards the exit.
The day had been intense, and you needed time to process it all. You took a cab back to your hotel, watching the city lights flicker through the window as you sank into your thoughts. Lando was fine physically, and that was the most important thing.
Once in your room, you kicked off your shoes and dropped into bed. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions: worry about Lando, what you had talked about with Max, and a growing confusion within yourself. You picked up your phone and left it on the nightstand. You didn't know whether to expect a text from Lando or Max. Or maybe neither.
You sighed and closed your eyes.
You had barely laid down when the glow of your phone illuminated the darkness of the room. For a moment, you thought it might be Lando, perhaps to talk about what happened at the race, but when you saw Max’s name on the screen, your heart skipped a little.
Max: “I hope you’re okay after all the drama today. Listen, I was thinking… I’m going home to Monaco to rest before the next season. How about you come with me? It’d be great to have you here.”
The message was direct and blunt, typical of Max. You stared at the screen, your fingers trembling slightly on the keyboard. The proposal took you by surprise, but at the same time, there was a part of you that had anticipated it.
You knew that accepting that invitation would involve much more than a simple vacation. It wasn't just the getaway to Monaco, it was everything that it meant: getting away from Lando once and for all from your own doubts, and facing the growing attraction you felt for Max.
You bit your lip, thinking of all the possible consequences. But then, your fingers began to move almost of their own volition.
You: "I don't know if it's a good idea, Max. This is all complicated."
It wasn't long before he responded.
Max: “Complicated? Maybe. But sometimes the complicated is the most exciting. You don't have to decide now. Think about it. I promise it will be an unforgettable trip."
You closed your eyes, trying to calm your heartbeat. The silence of the room surrounded you, but your thoughts were chaos. You could imagine Max in his suite, confident and relaxed, waiting for your answer as if he already knew what it would be.
Several hours passed, with the conversation on hold. Finally, you found yourself typing something you didn't think would come out of you.
You: "Okay. I'll go. But only because I need a break, and Monaco sounds like a good place to clear my mind."
His reply came almost instantly.
Max: "Yeah, sure, just for that, but perfect. You won't regret it. Let me know when you get there and I'll take care of everything.”
You stared at your phone after reading those words, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had made a decision that could change everything, and while a part of you was scared, another couldn't wait to see what that vacation would bring.
The day of your flight to Monaco came faster than you expected. You had been tossing and turning in bed all night, thinking about what this new stage meant. Max had been clear in his invitation, and although you were hesitant at first, you couldn't help but feel excited about the trip. What started as a simple getaway to relax had turned into an opportunity to get to know a different side of Max. A side that until now you had only seen from afar.
You took an early morning flight, without looking back. As the plane flew through the sky, you immersed yourself in thoughts about everything you had left behind.
You arrived in Monaco around afternoon, and the airport was full of tourists, celebrities, and important figures. The warm, salty Mediterranean air mixed with the hustle and bustle of the people, and you could feel the vibrant energy emanating from the city streets.
You picked up your suitcase and quickly headed to the car Max had arranged for you. You knew you couldn't miss a second of this glamorous city, and you felt a little nervous. What did Max expect from you? How would all this change after a few days in his company?
The car drove through the narrow, elegant streets of Monaco, passing by the famous casinos, luxury yachts, and hills overlooking the sea. The scenery was stunning, as always, but even more impressive was what you felt when you thought of Max waiting for you.
When you arrived at Max's residence, a luxurious apartment overlooking the port, a butler greeted you with a smile and led you to the door. The suite was everything you had imagined: modern, spacious, and with a stunning view of the sea and yachts. The decor was elegant but warm, with touches of wood and soft colors. It wasn't just any place; it was a place designed for someone like him, someone accustomed to perfection.
You left your suitcase on the bed and looked at the clock. You knew Max had to be nearby. Not even ten minutes had passed when you heard the door open. You turned around and there he was, Max, with his characteristic air of confidence, but with something different in his gaze. It was as if, for a moment, everything was just for the two of them.
"Do you like the place?" he asked, approaching with a smile on his face.
“It’s… amazing,” I replied, looking around, trying to hide how nervous I felt.
Max took a step towards you, his gaze locked on yours, and although he seemed relaxed, there was something about his posture that gave away his interest. There was a spark in his eyes, something that made your heart beat a little faster. He moved even closer, and before you could react, his hands rested on your waist.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to come, but I’m glad you agreed,” he said quietly, almost as if he was reading your thoughts.
You were in the heart of Monaco, and although the surroundings were luxurious and surrounded by powerful people, all that really mattered at that moment was the silent connection you shared with Max.
“What do we do now?” you asked, the nervousness starting to dissipate a little.
“Whatever you want,” Max replied, with a mischievous smile. “But, if you ask me, I think we could start with dinner.”
Before you could say anything else, he took you by the hand and led you through the apartment, into the open kitchen.
Max’s kitchen was just as modern as the rest of the place, with white marble surfaces that reflected the warm light from the lamps. Max began pulling fresh ingredients out of the fridge, inviting you to join him without thinking twice. At first, you were hesitant, but something in his eyes invited you to stay.
“Do you know how to cook?” you asked as you watched him pull out tomatoes, basil, and olive oil.
Max smiled mischievously, a glint in his blue eyes. “I know a little. But only if you don’t mind getting your hands a little dirty.”
You laughed at the idea. “I’m not a chef, but I can try.”
And so, between laughs and small jokes, they began to prepare dinner together. Max had decided to make fresh pasta with homemade pesto, one of his favorite dishes. While he was busy with the pasta, you took care of the salad, chopping vegetables and arranging the ingredients carefully. It was a simple, but shared moment, and the dynamic between the two of you felt natural, as if you had been doing this for years.
As the preparation progressed, the distance between you disappeared. Max gently guided you, giving you instructions on how to handle the ingredients, his hands sometimes brushing yours as you passed utensils or adjusted something in the pot. The conversation flowed easily, and you realized that, without thinking about it, you felt more comfortable with him than you had ever imagined.
When the pasta was ready, Max served it elegantly on two large plates, and together you sat at the table, enjoying the view offered by the balcony as the sun began to set behind the hills. The golden light illuminated the room and reflected off the glass, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. The table was well set, but the conversation and proximity made everything seem much more intimate than it actually was.
“This is amazing,” you said, taking a bite of the pasta and nodding. “You surprise me.”
Max smiled, with a hint of pride. “I told you, I knew you’d appreciate it.”
The evening continued with laughter and anecdotes, talking about other things, about travel and what you liked to do in your free time. Max seemed genuinely interested in you, in your opinions, in what you thought about the small details of life. There was something so real and accessible about him at that moment, that you completely forgot the fact that, hours before, you had arrived in Monaco with a host of mixed emotions. Now, all that mattered was the present moment.
At the end of dinner, as the plates were empty and the wine glasses were slowly emptying, Max leaned slightly towards you, his gaze locked on yours. The room was quiet, the sound of the distant city, and for a second, it seemed like there were only the two of you left, sharing that space.
“You know?” he said, his voice soft, “I think this has been much better than any dinner I could have planned. I’m happy you came.”
You, without thinking too much about it, smiled and nodded. “I’m happy too. I didn’t imagine it would end like this.”
Max smiled again, and this time, the expression on his face was different. Softer, more approachable. It wasn’t just the confident, competitive Max from racing, but a version of him that seemed more vulnerable, more willing to share something more personal.
The chemistry between you was clear, and for the first time, you realized it wasn't just a superficial attraction. There was something much deeper, something you didn't know if it could be defined with words. But at that moment, there was no need. Being there, with Max, cooking, laughing, and sharing such a simple moment, was all you needed to know.
As the days passed in Monaco, the connection between you and Max became more and more evident.
Mornings were quiet, usually spent touring the city or relaxing on the terrace of his apartment while the sun slowly slipped over the horizon, tinting the sky in golden colors. Max was always around, whether it was to share a coffee in silence or to talk about what he was thinking for the next race. Often, their conversations were light, but there were times when, without warning, Max would drop a phrase or a confession that showed you a side of him you had never seen before.
One day, after lunch together, Max drove you through the mountains surrounding Monaco. As they drove along the winding roads, he began to talk, unprompted, about his life, about what it had taken to become who he was.
“My career isn’t just the podium, you know,” he said, looking out the window as the car moved down the road. “It’s everything I’ve had to leave behind: the parties, the relationships, the sacrifices… There are so many things people don’t see, so many difficult decisions.”
You looked at him with a mix of surprise and admiration. Max had never been a person who opened up easily, always so focused on his goal, so focused on winning and perfection. But now, he was speaking to you with brutal honesty, as if somehow, he had decided to share the deepest part of himself with you.
“I know,” you answered calmly, not knowing what else to say, but you looked at him with genuine understanding. “You’ve been at the center of all this since you were so young.” It’s not easy, and people often don’t understand what it entails.
Max nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the landscape as the car continued on its way.
“That’s why it’s hard to trust people sometimes, you know?” he said, his voice laced with subtle melancholy. “Everyone expects something from you, and sometimes you don’t even know if people like you for who you are, or for what you represent.”
A wave of empathy washed over you. Max had lived a life full of expectations, external pressures, pain, and it wasn’t hard to see how all of that had made him close some emotional doors. But in that moment, it seemed like you had somehow entered his inner circle. You had gotten him to open up, to share something so personal.
What surprised you the most was the way he understood you. It wasn’t just that Max listened to you; he understood you. In every conversation, in every gesture, there was something about him that seemed to sense what you felt, what you needed without you having to explain it with words. He wasn’t like Lando, who, although he had always been affectionate, had never shown that level of deep understanding. Lando had his own way of seeing things, but in his words there was never a place for your dreams or your insecurities. With Max, everything was different.
Max also began to talk about his long-term ambitions, about what he wanted outside of the race track, things that weren’t just achievements, medals or trophies. He told you about his love for family, his desire to form one.
Sometimes, you found yourself watching him as he spoke, unable to help but feel drawn not only to his appearance, but to the vulnerability he had begun to show. This was a different Max, a Max who asked for your opinion and valued what you said, and although he could be competitive and stubborn at times, there was something in his gaze that made you feel important.
And you, of course, couldn't help but share your own thoughts with him. At first, you thought it would be hard for you to open up so much to someone, but with him, everything flowed. You felt free to talk about your goals, about fashion, about your own fears, about your insecurities. Max supported you at all times, without judging or pressuring you, just giving you his unconditional support. The way he looked at you while you talked made you feel like, for the first time, someone really understood you.
That connection was getting stronger, getting more and more impossible to ignore. And you knew, even though you tried to stay rational, that something was changing between the two of you. It wasn't just the chemistry, it wasn't just the shared smiles or the jokes, it was something deeper. Max was becoming someone more than just the Formula 1 driver you admired from afar. And you... you were starting to have feelings for him.
As the days went by and you shared more moments together, from impromptu dinners to walks around the harbor, you realized that Max was showing you a side of him that few knew about, and that side was winning you over in a way you couldn't control. It was such a stark contrast to the relationship you had with Lando, because with him, everything had always been more superficial, more loaded with expectations of what a relationship should be.
With Max, things seemed more real, more natural. And even though you didn't know how he felt exactly, you couldn't help but feel that this moment you shared was something unique.
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The air in Monaco felt heavier that day, as if the sun was shining brighter as you walked through the city with Max by your side, enjoying the scenery, but at the same time with a feeling of unease in your chest. Max, noticing your change in mood, looked at you with slight concern.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice soft, but with the clarity of someone who knew something wasn’t right.
You nodded, trying not to give too much importance to the whirlwind of thoughts forming in your head. You had been dealing with this silently for days, but now, while you were with Max, the doubts and feelings couldn’t be left behind. You decided it was time to face it, even though you didn’t know how he would react.
Just a few minutes later, your phone vibrated in your pocket, interrupting the peaceful walk. Looking at the screen, you saw Lando’s name and felt a pang in your stomach. With your pulse racing, you decided to open the message.
Lando: “I miss you. “I want to go back, I want things to be okay between us.”
A lump formed in your throat as you read the words. You knew he had been trying to reach you, that he still held out hope that things could be like they were before, but something inside you told you it was time to let him go. You knew you couldn’t keep fooling yourself, or Lando, or Max. Everyone’s paths had changed, and even though you had loved Lando at one time, everything seemed different now. The connection with Max was something you couldn’t ignore, a truth that had been growing between you and you could no longer deny it.
With shaking hands, you began typing out your reply. You didn’t want to do it over text, but at the same time, you knew it was the most direct and honest thing to do.
You: “Lando, I appreciate you so much, but we both know our lives are taking different paths. I don’t feel the same way I used to anymore. I’m spending time with Max now… things have changed, and I can’t move on with us. You know what you did and I did it to him.”
The phone stayed in your hands for a second, your heart pounding, and before you could regret it, you hit “send.” The relief was immediate, but it was also accompanied by a soft pain, like a wound that had been slowly closing, but was still bleeding.
It wasn’t even ten minutes before Lando replied to you. The tone of his text was clear: he was hurt, frustrated, and angry.
Lando: “So you’re with Max now, huh? I can’t believe it. I knew something was going on between you two, but this… This doesn’t just hurt me, it’s going to affect our image too. You’re breaking everything we built, everything we had.”
You read those words, and even though they hurt, you knew it was the right thing to do. You knew you couldn’t continue in something that no longer had a foundation, something that had worn away inside. But Lando’s words pierced you like an arrow, and in that moment, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Breaking up with him didn’t just mean letting go of a relationship, but also dealing with the consequences of the decisions you had made.
You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, and with a firm voice, you answered, knowing that there could be no turning back.
You: “Don't blame me, you were the one who slept with another woman and let the paparazzi catch you. This is the best for both of us, we no longer love each other like we once did.”
As soon as you sent the message, the tension in the air increased. Max, who had been by your side all this time, watched your face with an expression that seemed to understand what had just happened, although without saying a word.
Lando quickly responded, this time with more anger and resentment.
Lando: “You're going to see what's going to happen now. You know that this relationship has given us both so much, but it seems that it means nothing to you. You've left me in the lurch, and now I'm forced to deal with the public image of all this, with everything we've built, just because of one bad decision. Don't call me ever again.”
His final message hit you harder than you expected. It was final closure, and even though deep down you knew you had done the right thing, a part of you felt the weight of the words he had just written. You couldn’t deny that things between you and Lando had changed, but the fury in his message made it clear to you that, at that moment, he couldn’t understand your decision.
Max, seeing that you were tense from the answer, put a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “but you had no other choice. You deserve to be happy, and if that means moving on, then that’s what you have to do.”
You turned to him, grateful for his words. His understanding, his calm, was in complete contrast to the intensity of what you had just been through. Deep down in your heart you prayed that Lando wouldn’t do anything but you knew him, you knew how he got when he was angry and you were prepared to read your name and Max’s on the internet the next morning.
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under-loch-n-key · 2 days ago
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Hi everyone. Obviously everyone has seen the news and read the polls and obviously you can tell that we’re likely cooked.
For some reason our country wants to elect the Mango Menace and his gaggle of orange stained goons once again.
I am terrified for myself, my loved ones, my country, our climate, and just everything.
However, I’d like to tell the LGBTQIA+ community these things because I know we are terrified right now.
What happened today, it’s devastating. It angers me too. Some of my closest family voted for that horrible man. I don’t think I can look at them the same way anymore. Especially, when they hold no guilt or remorse about it even after I explained his policies to them. What do I know, I guess.. 🤷🏻‍♂️🙄
However, as a queer, trans man in this little community, I want ALL of the LGBTQIA+ people who will see this post to know that things will be alright. We all have each other. We know we exist here in the states even if none of us have met. We EXIST.
Just because those orange stained dunderheads want to silence us doesn't change the fact that we exist. We do. We always will. Bigotry cannot fight facts and science. We'll always exist. The only time trans people won't exist is when the human race dies out. Even then, we have other animal species that are queer and trans. No matter what, we will always exist in nature. They cannot change that. They cannot take that from us. Do not lose hope. Even though it's really fucking hard not to.
Do not lose it. The fact that you and I exist is a beacon of hope to another trans and queer person. We exist. None of us want to be left here alone. So we must go on. We must continue to exist. Things WILL be okay. I'll always keep fighting and living for you and every one of my trans and queer brothers, sisters, and siblings.
You existing and simply being here is a beacon of hope to me. Someone who has understands how I'm feeling. Someone who is LIKE me but so different at the same time.
In the grand scheme of the universe, we are very small. However, even though it's small, the fact is that it EXISTS. It's so fucking small in this big void of the cosmos but we're here. We're made of similar components as stars, ones that had to die for us to exist.
I like to think of the sky as when humanity was truly equal. When we were just atoms in the big ol' void, ya know? We didn't fight. We didn't give a shit about all of this stuff. We were allll different types of stars and matter. We were all random as hell, but we just WERE. We coexisted peacefully together in the universe.
Now that those stars are dead as a door nail and some dumb fishy bastard decided to get curious and walk on land, we're all human. Humanity fucking sucks ass sometimes but it's also such a beautiful fucking thing. No matter what happens, a part of us will always exist.
Our existence is embedded in the universe. Nothing can change that. So, please keep living. Be safe, but keep living. Always keep fighting. We belong here just like anyone else.
You belong. You are loved. You are cherished. You are noticed by me and other people here. We all understand each other. So keep going. Again, one day we will all have a better tomorrow. I swear to fucking god or whatever the hell is out there, if anything, however it's unlikely, I will ALWAYS keep fighting for you and WITH you.
Every protest l attend. Every petition I sign. Every time I vote. Every time I go to pride. Every time l simply leave my home as I am. I am doing it for you and all of us. Our people WILL have our damn tomorrow. I'm sick of us not having it. I swear to you we will. So, again, please keep going. Keep fighting. Keep living. Exist. Your existence may be a threat to some bigoted fucker but your existence is precious to someone else. Please do not let them take your right to exist away from you. Keep going.
We’ll have a better tomorrow, the one that we deserve eventually, but we just need get through the hard, bumpy, dirty road first.
Again, we will be okay. Everything will be okay. We’ll get through it. Yes, unfortunately, we will likely see suicide rates and hate crime rates go up and that's disgusting and just all types of awful and depressing. It angers me beyond words.
However, we are strong.
We shouldn't have to be strong though.
What we should be and need to be is loved, accepted, warm, fed, have shelter, and are safe.
For now though, we remain strong. You will always have a place here.
You will live. You will not die, hun. I know the thought creeps in and believe me, I understand. Those thoughts creep in for me too, but we must learn to try to control them. If there's anything I know about us trans and queer folk it's that we're strong, feisty, kind, very sexy, and cheeky as hell. So, if we live, we live because it's our damn right and to be spiteful. We do not owe the people who want to harm us our lives. We just don't. We deserve healthcare. We deserve to love and get married.
We deserve to grow old.
You will grow old. You will be able to go on those trips you've always wanted. You will be able to have that cheesy romance you've always wanted, if you are someone who is wanting a relationship.
You'll be able to sit down and watch your favourite movie. Why? Because you stayed. You didn't give up. Ever. We will always exist.
We will ALWAYS live.
Being transgender has existed before humans even walked this earth and it will still exist when all of us book our holy bus tickets and the blessed holy tax collector comes to collect our debted souls. No matter what, we will live on. They can silence us all they want and erase whatever the fuck they want but that doesn't mean that it's the truth. We're HERE.
We've been here since forever ago. Those Cheeto dusted dunderheads cannot change that. Like I told another person here, other animals and even plants are trans and queer! We've always been here. That won't change, hun.
Everything WILL be okay. We'll always survive and live on. Look at how far we've come in these past years. Many of us thought that we'd be gone already but here we are, two trans people typing away in comment sections on an app where middle age men get off to octopus porn and neko ladies in Japanese school girl outfits because men. and welcome to the internet, I guess. Lmao.
Everything will work out on way or another. We'll have our tomorrow, hun. For now, we gotta buckle down because we're in for a bumpy ride but hey, thankfully on bumpy you have those moments where ya hit the bump just right and you're like
"WOAH, HELLO!- mister bump, you better watch yourself, you saucy boy~ You can't be doin' that. You better take me to dinner first." Lmao. Okay, on a more serious note, we just gotta buckle down together and get through this bumpy ass dirt road because after awhile you make it through that rocky dirt road in the woods and come out to feel smooth pavement again. It'll be alright. We just need to band together and make it through. We all are always stronger together. You're not alone, my friends.
You're talkin' to a guy who has the personality of a gay muppet with a big mouth. I'm shocked nothin’ has happened to me yet with my yappy ass screeching and getting over 80+ gay people to start baa-ing like sheep at a bigot at last year's pride event, but that's a wholeeeee different situation.
My point is, we'll be okay. We'll make it through.
You'll survive. You have me. You have everyoneeeee here and on other social forums. Sure, it's not the same as in-person interactions but it's somethin'. It’s better than nothing I guess. If we’ve gotta go stealth mode eventually and make secret groups for us trans and queer folk, then so be it.
Just do whatever you feel you need to do to keep yourselves safe.
We'll have a better tomorrow. We just need to keep pushing through this rough shit. We'll get out of the woods and onto smooth pavement with open skies eventually.
Continue to exist. Fight. Be safe, but live. Live for yourself, fellow trans people, and simply for spite.
Fuck bigots. Not actually though. Like DON'T fuck them. Who knows where they've been. But fuck them. They're not worth your life. Their bigotry is not worth your life. Live because it's your right.
Those guys are all so far up Donald Trump’s ass he fired his doctor and hired his supporters to give him a colonoscopy.
So, live long. Live for love and live for spite, my friends. We'll get through this.
It’s Trump 2: Electric Boogaloo. SPOILER: The first movie sucked too. They even tried to make a third one — Mango Menace Strikes Back! We didn’t want to come to the theatre to see the second one but it was a class field trip that most of America signed for us. So, we’ve allll got no choice but to go on the trip to the cinema.
Anyways, things will be okay. We’ll make it through. We’ll out get it figured out. We always do. We’ll take care of each other. Everything will be alright. 🤙🏼💛⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️✨
(Sorry for typos and repetitive speech- it’s 4:14 a.m. EST. 😭😭)
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swamp-chicken · 2 days ago
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wl ficlet episode 3, 596 words
After a certain amount of time, words stop to have meaning. Bdubs guesses it’s that time, because nothing he says seems to matter and nobody seems to care. He’s in an alliance, but they’re not an alliance. He’s with Etho, but Etho isn’t with him.
Words are all Bdubs has these days. He used to think actions were enough, but that idea died a few worlds ago. What does it mean when he saves one person and kills another? He thought that it made him loyal, a stalwart companion. But then people started saying he was scared instead.
What does it mean when he does everything for the people he loves, but he only gets mistrust in return? What does it mean when he wastes blood, sweat, and tears on them and they turn on him in the end?
All that’s left are words. So when Bdubs wakes up, peering up at a clear blue sky that should be a ceiling, it’s obvious to him what he has to do to make things right. So maybe things had been tense. So maybe Tango and Etho had preferred to work a little separately from him. So what? It wasn’t something he couldn’t fix. A few well-placed words and they’d all be back like buddies again, the crimes of the past forgiven.
There’s a spring in Bdubs’ step when the session starts, when he gathers up with Tango and Etho to start strategizing. He doesn’t dilly-dally before cutting to the chase.
“I am going to start with an apology session.”
Etho and Tango exchange skeptical glances but Bdubs is undeterred. They may be skeptical now, but just wait.
Bdubs knows how to make his voice quiet and sincere. He knows how to make his gaze soft and imploring. “Tango,” he starts. “I’m sorry for stabbing you in the back when we were on BEST team.”
Bdubs waits, brimming with eagerness. Once Tango forgives him, they can start building trust again. They can be an alliance. And then Etho will want to stand with them, of course. Following along, just like the old days.
But—Tango’s blinking at him, no warmth in his gaze. And then Etho speaks. “A couple years late, isn’t it?”
Bdubs doesn’t feel very springy anymore. “This is genuine.” The words barely come out from behind his clenched teeth.
Etho is watching his reaction with a twist of amusement. “Why today out of all days?”
Sitting on Etho’s horse, Bdubs had thought they’d worked this all out. He thought he had uncovered the root of the issue, had talked everything through. Words! Leaping out of Bdubs’ mouth and into Etho’s ears. But something was still festering.
Bdubs can fix it. “And I apologize to you, Etho, for getting the best horse in Minecraft.” Words, tumbling out of his mouth too hasty. There’s no time to imbue them with sincerity, to warm up his imploring gaze.
Two disbelieving stares are turned against him. Bdubs feels backed into a corner, his hackles are up. “And I’ve been doing some self-reflecting and I hate myself!”
Words so strong that they can’t refuse him, that they can’t doubt his sincerity.
Etho turns to Tango. “You think this is a manipulation tactic?”
“I do,” Tango sighs. “I’m already on to his play here.”
Etho laughs. “This guy— this guy doesn’t feel any remorse!”
There's an ache in the back of Bdubs' throat. He swallows it down, indignant. After a certain amount of time, words stop to have meaning. Nothing Bdubs does matters, and nobody seems to care.
“You’re right, I don’t feel any remorse!” Bdubs smirks. "I can't believe you guys saw through that so fast." They’re laughing. He can laugh too.
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metallicames · 2 days ago
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Hi there! here is the second part. Hope you like it.
Translated by @nausicaamusiclover20 ❣️
Wild Things
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Description: you and the guys from Metallica went to an afterparty in a pub in Seattle and James needs you, again...
WARNINGS: smut, explicit content, rough sex, dirty talking.
The energy inside the arena had been electric, but here at the Rocket, it was absolute chaos. Not a single person was sober—people were stumbling, dancing, shouting, and even vomiting. I spot my friend Matt making out with a girl against the bathroom wall, while some of his friends slump around a nearby table, two of them with their heads down, completely out from all the drinking.
In a quieter corner, the guys from the band look worn but happy, celebrating with yet another round of beer. I notice faint lines of white powder scattered on their table, but before I can think too much about it, Kirk is beside me, shouting to be heard over the noise, “Which song pumped you up the most?”
We start talking about the show, laughing over his solos and the way Lars seemed like he’d tear his arms off playing Battery. The memories pour out, reliving every song, every moment. Time blurs in the chaos, and everyone’s laughing, with James goofing around, throwing playful jabs at Lars and the others.
At some point, I slip away to the bathroom, and as I’m stepping back out, a hand grabs my wrist and pulls me into a dim room, lit only by a few soft blue lights. The walls are made of dark plexiglass, and a lone, abandoned pool table sits at the center.
It’s James. His eyes are dark, intense, and he pulls me close, kissing me with a sudden, fierce urgency. I feel a rush of surprise and thrill, a smirk on my lips as I kiss him back, slipping my hands around the collar of his leather jacket, pulling him even closer.
It doesn’t take long before he turns me around, pressing me forcibly forward so that my chest meets the cool, worn felt of the pool table. I feel his body close behind me, his hands guiding me as his breathing quickens. He leans down to murmur close to my ear, “I can’t stop fucking you!” and then slaps my buttock. A thrill runs down my spine, and I find myself whispering, almost pleading, “Please...fuck me, James. I need you to fill me completely...again.”
He exhales a low, almost primal sound, his hands tightening around my waist as he draws me close. His touch is both rough and tender, his fingers brushing along my hips. He lifts my skirt and moves my panties on the side. The sensation immediately makes me shiver. With a smirk on his face he spits on his hand and starts rubbing my clit and my already wet cunt . Then he entered me fully making me moan loudly. The sensations are overwhelming, and every nerve feels alive and the position increases friction which makes me feel even more pleasure. “Please Jamie... faster!” I sayed sighing “As you wish, baby” and he started thrusting even faster, resting his hands on my hips. The thrill of being in this moment, hidden away, the exhilaration of the music and chaos outside, that everyone can enter but I couldn’t care less because even if someone entered, I would never notice. Every breath, every heartbeat, feels like it belongs only to us.
I can’t see his face, but I feel his urgency in the way he holds me, the rhythm of his breaths, and the tension in his grip. It’s a shared, silent connection—an electric, irresistible pull that feels like it could last forever. “Fffuck James, you’re so deep...” I cried while I’m trying to claw my way onto the surface of the pool table. “Am I hurting you?” - “No, just fuck me, don’t stop please!” I encourage him, he takes my free wrist and brings it behind my back, squeezing it with his strong fingers, using it as further leverage to stabilize the movements and make them even deeper.
I feel completely lost in the moment, my eyes rolling back as pleasure overwhelms me. Soft moans escape my lips, intertwining with James's deep, breathy responses. I can feel the makeup I carefully applied earlier begin to run down my cheeks, a reminder of how intense this experience has become. 
A powerful wave of sensation builds inside me, threatening to sweep me away. “You’re so wet... I can feel you’re close" he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, sending shivers down my spine.
My body responds instinctively, tightening around him, as if trying to draw him in even deeper. Every movement sends ripples of electricity through me. “Fuck, you’re making me me cum!” he exclaims, each word punctuated by gasps that only heighten my own desire.
Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure, crashing over me like a tidal wave. I let out a desperate, “Oh my goddd” as I reach my peak, trembling uncontrollably and squeezing my legs instinctively as I ride the waves of ecstasy that leave me breathless.
I turn my head slightly, catching a glimpse of James out of the corner of my eye. He looks dazed and filled with desire, his tousled hair falling across his face. When our eyes meet, he pauses for a heartbeat, breathless and intense. Then, with a deliberate movement, he wraps his hands around my neck, just enough to make me arch my back slightly, and resumes his frantic rhythm.
“I’m going to wreck you!! I want to fill you completely.." he gasps between breaths, his voice low and urgent, makes me lose my mind.
At this point, I feel utterly lost in the moment, my body overwhelmed by pleasure and the intensity of our connection. The way he drives into me, pressing me against the pool table, is exhilarating and surreal. I can hardly believe he still has this kind of energy after the wild night we’ve shared.
“Fill me up, James, I’m all yours” I manage to breathe out, surrendering to the powerful wave of sensation that washes over me.
With a deep, primal groan, he reaches his climax, and I can feel him pulsing inside me. It’s a rush of warmth that envelops me, and I instinctively tighten around him, savoring every last moment of our connection. He empties himself completely, and as he collapses against me, his head resting on my back, I can hear his heavy breaths, a testament to how spent he is.
In that moment, everything else fades away, leaving just the two of us, entwined and breathless, lost in the aftermath of what we’ve shared.
As I try to gather myself, I hear a tapping sound on the plexiglass behind us. I turn my head slightly and catch a glimpse of Lars, who initially pretends to make out with the wall before shifting to simulate being intimate with an imaginary girl. I don’t worry too much; I’m still covered by James's body, and I know that Lars, being James's best friend, has probably seen it all. James bursts into laughter and calls out, “You idiot!” Lars walks away, still chuckling, leaving a light atmosphere in the room.
James slowly pulls away from me, letting out a soft sigh. “Damn, I’m exhausted,” he says as he starts to get dressed.
I glance at the clock on the wall: it’s 5:30 am. I get dressed too, still a bit dazed by everything that has just happened.
“Are you going to sleep with me tonight?!” His question feels more like an affirmation, and there’s sincerity in his eyes.
“yes, sure. but I need to check where Matt went. He was pretty messed up when I last saw him,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light.
“Okay, don’t worry. We’ll call him a taxi later,” he reassures me with a casual wave of his hand.
As we step outside, I start looking for Matt and finally find him slumped on a bench in the pub, mumbling something incoherently. He’s completely drunk. We head out together and call a taxi. Before we let him go, I slip a note into Matt's jacket pocket: “I’m staying at James’s, don’t worry. What a crazy night!!! Kisses.”
We watch him stagger away, then climb into the band’s van. I sit across from Kirk, who looks at us with a mischievous, high grin. I’m sure James and I look like we’ve just had the best night of our lives. I can feel my cheeks flush as I turn to look at James. His hair is tousled, his cheeks are flushed, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his skin. Next to Kirk, Jason is eagerly kissing a girl I’ve never seen before, while in the back, Lars is sprawled between two girls, resting his head on one of their shoulders.
James leans his head back, clearly spent, and at one point, he reaches for my hand. When he finds it, he gently squeezes it, running his thumb lightly across my knuckles. The ride lasts about ten minutes, and I thank the creator of elevators because if I had to climb four flights of stairs, I would probably be dead.
We enter James’s hotel room, which he usually shares with at least one other bandmate, often Lars, but tonight he has it all to himself. The place is a mess: beer bottles and various alcohol containers scattered everywhere, T-shirts strewn about, and the bed is in disarray. “So typical of James,” I think with an amused smile.
He quickly sheds his clothes, leaving only his boxers, and collapses onto the bed, utterly exhausted.
“Can I borrow one of your shirts to sleep in? I don’t have anything with me,” I ask, poking my head out of the bathroom.
“Sure, grab the one on the chair. It should be clean,” he replies, his voice drowsy.
I slip on the shirt I find, soft and smelling like him, then lie down beside him. He turns to face me, his eyes already half-closed. God, he’s so handsome. Unable to resist, I lean in and give him a soft kiss on the lips.
He responds immediately, sliding his hand between my thighs, creating a warm, enveloping sensation. I sink into a heavy sleep, feeling his body close to mine, a perfect refuge as the outside world fades away, leaving just the two of us, wrapped in a comforting haze of sensation and the promise of tomorrow.
To be continued
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mrsriddlenott · 2 days ago
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It’s Okay To Love Them Both
Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader x Enzo Berkshire
Kinda from all their POVs at different times. I absolutely love this and I am putting so much work into it that it is honestly funny and I’m gonna cry when I’m done🥹😂(may have gotten carried away) not entirely proofread yet.
Warnings: Fluff,Angst,Insecurities, Manipulation(kinda ig? I don’t see it as manipulative but I wanted to include the warning for ppl who don’t share that opinion), Nicknames(Princess, Gorgeous, Petal, Little Badger, etc)
*No smut but I can make a pt2 for that if it’s wanted*
{masterlist}
This was requested a LONG time ago and I REALLY hope the person who requested it is still here or in the old Taglist, I am so sorry this took so long. My brain just was not working properly for a long time but I think I am back in my groove. I have been working on this on and off for a literal YEAR so if you are not here I am so disappointed in myself for not getting it out to you.
You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when you started to fall for both the boys, but it started so innocently, and now it felt like it was always bound to grow from the very beginning. You met Enzo first, he had been assigned your tutor at the start of term thanks to your poor Potions grade every year prior. He worked with you tirelessly as though it was more than something asked of him by the head of his house, and when you inevitably out grew the need for a tutor, he invited you to your first Slytherin party as a celebration. A party that was of course thrown by his best friend. Enzo talked about Mattheo non-stop and you just had to meet him, however when he spoke with you that fateful night, you realized the trouble you were in and you just couldn’t stay away from him, you tried at first, but it was pointless.
The more you talked with them the more you felt for them. They were so easy to be around, Mattheo made you feel safe and heard, he always stood up for you even though his reputation could have been hindered by befriending a Hufflepuff. While Enzo made you feel known, he looked at you in a way that no one had before and opened your own mind up to itself. Even though they were so clearly different, as you grew closer with them, you began to notice just how similar the two were. Mattheo tried his hardest to hide it but on the inside he was the sweet boy no one saw, and Enzo had a hidden darkness within him that no one would guess, one that helped you come to terms with your own.
“Hello Princess, I’ve got a question,” Enzo stated from your side as he caught you off guard in the corridors, ripping you out of your thoughts with his smile alone. He watched you intently with his soft, safe eyes as he waited for you to respond. He was used to your adorable shocked expression by now, he knew you somehow weren’t used to this kind of attention yet, and certainly not from Slytherins, but he just couldn’t stop coming back to you. Neither of them could, so they just didn’t.
It’s not like they sat down and planned it….well not exactly. The idea was there of course, from the second Mattheo saw you he knew he wanted you he just didn’t want to hurt Enzo and even when they soon both realized they felt the same way, it wasn’t really a conscious decision….not in the beginning anyway. They’d speak to you one after the other like a pattern of turns, and never without telling each other beforehand. Eventually they started whispering about your little chats in their dorm late at night, almost debriefing the other as they reminisced and waited for their next chance to see you. It took quite awhile for the boys to realize just how far their feelings had grown, and not only for you, their own bond had been strengthened by their shared affections and time spent solely focused on you.
“Oh….what is it?” You spoke, slightly dazed after staring into Enzo’s eyes for a few seconds too many, something he reveled in as your pupils dilated and your lips formed a smile against your will. He chuckled at your nervousness, poking his elbow out for you to take as you resumed your walk to the Library, you took it immediately, settling your palm into the crook of his arm as he took your books into his free hand.
“I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” His voice was soft, calming, and comforting as he gently guided you through the tidal wave of students suddenly parting to let him through. It shocked you how not one, but two boys of such a high popularity status seemed to care so much about your presence. At first you genuinely assumed it was some joke, a prank some classmate had put them up to maybe, but after months of the two always coming back to you and getting absolutely nothing in return, you deemed yourself safe.
“Like a….?” You started, letting your sentence die out in embarrassment of being wrong, Enzo chuckled making your stomach jump as you entered the Library, “Yes Petal, I wanna take you out on a date.” He turned to face you as he set your books on the nearest study desk, taking your hand in his as he reiterated in a soft voice, “Would you like to go on a date with me? We can do whatever you like….or we can go with my plan?”
“You….have a plan?” It wasn’t like you were new to dating or having a partner, but you certainly weren’t used to said partner putting in such effort for you, making you feel as special as Enzo and Mattheo did so easily. You gulped slightly upon remembering Mattheo, would he be mad if you said yes? Or hurt? Would he care at all? Would he plan a date for you like this?
“Is that a yes?” Enzo chuckled as he watched your brows furrow upon you falling into your thoughts again, “It’s okay if you have plans or….or don’t want to join me,” He suddenly seemed very worried, his confidence faltering as you watched his face quietly.
“Of course I want to go with you Lorenzo,” He audibly sighed at your words, a warm feeling washing over him as soon as his arms wrapped around you, his head falling heavily against your shoulder as he laughed, “Had me thinking I ruined the best part of Hogwarts Lovely.” Your giggles pulled him from his hiding spot in your neck as your hands held onto his shoulders.
“No way I am for favorite thing about Hogwarts,” You laughed with a shake of your head, avoiding his eyes as you moved away to settle into your study spot. Enzo watched you from a few feet away now, observing your genuine misbelief and wondering how you could look in the mirror everyday and not see a portrait of royal standard. How you could possibly not see that he was falling madly in love with you, certainly he wasn’t that subtle was he? He’d just have to turn in up a notch then.
“I was thinking we could get a drink at the Three Broomsticks,” his voice was low and soft as he approached you again, slowly “After which I’ll spoil us with a trip to Honeydukes,” he paused, stepping closer still as you avoided direct eye contact, “Then we can eat sweets as we take a walk around the Black Lake and talk,” you gasped as his cold fingers brushed your warm skin, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear and tracing the shape of your jaw before pulling your chin up, forcing an intense eye contact, “How does that sound?” His voice was laced with his usual confidence once again as he placed his free hand on the desk, leaning into you further and towering over you with a smile. That crooked smile that was always so contagious made it impossible to stop yourself from smiling back and agreeing to the perfect date once more.
Enzo left the Library with a triumphant grin, giving you one last glance over his shoulder and throwing you a wink, reveling in your face glowing bright red. You found it difficult to suppress giggles as you tried to work on your studying, beginning to imagine your date with Enzo instead.
~~~~
It felt like you had spent days alone in the Library working on your homework, every little thought of Enzo distracting you from the work that had accumulated in your classes this week. You regretted not asking Enzo to keep you company, even though you were such a nervous wreck around him when you were alone together you just found everything to be so much easier with him there. It was like every bit of anxiety flitted away when either of your boys were there to comfort you.
“Hey Gorgeous,” Mattheo’s smooth voice derailed your train of thought as the chair behind you loudly scraped across the dusty stone floor, making you cringe as Mattheo plopped onto the creaking wood so he was sat only inches from you. “What are you stud-“ The loud shush from Madam Pince interrupted him as he laughed and held his finger to his lips jokingly, pulling his chair impossibly closer only to slowly whisper in your ear, “What are you studying?”
You tried to hide the shiver his voice sent down your spine, tingles covering your entire body before you could gain your control, “Just Transfiguration stuff, I’m almost done though,” Mattheo hums beside you, letting you silently work as he watched your very concentrated face while you wrote. He quickly became impatient however, tapping his fingers and feet to different beats you didn’t recognize as he slouched in his chair before dramatically sighing after only a few minutes and sitting up.
“Are you done yet?” He whispered, desperate for your undivided attention as he leant into you further, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch you like a lost puppy, “I’ve got something for you, ya know,” His excitement was evident in his hushed tone, making you finally turn to look at him again while he excitedly reached into his pocket with a proud smile upon getting you to look at him. He struggled momentarily, cursing under his breath as he pulled out a thin golden chain with a badger charm dangling from it.
You eyed the fine jewelry in his hand for only a split second, it was truly beautiful and your exact style, but it looked expensive and too elegant to be for you. Noticing the guilty glint in your eye, Mattheo didn’t give you the chance to deny the gift, believing it was yours already even if you wanted to throw it in the garbage as soon as he left. You would have to get used to being spoiled, he thought as he got up to delicately drape it across your neck and clip it in the back before you could ask the price or where he got it. He freed your hair from being trapped below the chain, bouncing it and fixing stray strands for you before leaving a kiss on the top of your head, “It’s almost as beautiful as you isn’t it my Little Badger?”
Your face was painted red in a matter of seconds as his hands felt up and down your arms mindlessly, his fingertips leaving tingles everywhere they touched giving you an entirely uncommon burst of confidence. You jumped from your seat with a loud thank you as your arms draped across his shoulders, letting your head rest on his toned body as his arms engulfed you in his warmth and his chest vibrated with a laugh, “You are very welcome Pretty Girl.”
Your eyes met as you pulled away from him, glossy eyes darting between his and his lips before you launched yourself forward to attack them with yours. Mattheo didn’t waste a second in returning your kiss, letting your lips meld together as he sighed against your mouth, the taste of your lips better than he could have ever imagined. Your fingers got lost in his hair, tugging at his curls and deepening the kiss, forcing him to restrain himself by gripping onto your hips tighter to keep from smashing you into the bookshelf behind him and starting a battle between your tongues. You hummed in satisfaction, your senses and thoughts lost in Mattheo as he nipped at your bottom lip making you whimper and fall farther into him. You wanted the kiss to last forever, the feeling of his hands grounding you, letting your brain focus for the first time since…..Enzo.
The image of the sweet boy who cared so much for you catching you making out with his best friend flashed in your mind, snapping you out of your pleasure as you abruptly pulled away from Mattheo with a shocked expression. Your eyes brimmed with tears at the thought of Enzo crying, hurting over you betraying him, hating you forever….you felt horrible. Your teary gaze locked with Mattheo’s before you were pushing away and grabbing your books, rushing from the Library without another word. After only a second of truly believing someone had Stupefied him, the curly headed boy tried to catch up to you, desperately calling your name before losing you in the packed corridors.
Mattheo cursed to himself as he reluctantly turned away from the direction you took and toward the Slytherin Common Room. He couldn’t stop thinking about every possible outcome this could cause, he should have said something, done something, but he was far too focused on your scent, your taste, the way you felt in his hands. He’s such an idiot, he needed to fix this, the thoughts bouncing back and forth in his mind as his legs numbly carried him through the castle.
“You need to make sure this date we planed goes well because I may have just royally screwed us” Mattheo was almost shouting as he slammed the door of his and Enzo’s shared dorm behind him, thanking the Gods that their dorm mates were off doing who knows what.
“What!? What are you talking about?” Enzo rushed forward on his bed, tossing his reading aside as he watched Mattheo’s face contort in worry. He could tell by his fidgeting hands and pacing of the room that he was truly worried there was no going back from whatever he did, and without a second thought, Enzo was standing to pull him into a hug, asking again, softer this time, “What went wrong?”
“She kissed me and I fucking kissed her back,” Mattheo snapped, slipping out of Enzo’s comfortable grasp as he pinched at the bridge of his nose, “and then she looked so sad and my mouth just would not form any words. I stood there like a fucking asshole while she was crying because I was too focused on her lips on mine.” He sighed, chewing at his thumb as he paced back and forth in the middle of the dorm.
“She kissed you though that’s a good thing, not exactly to plan, but that means she probably likes us bo-“ Mattheo was always so calm and collected, except for when it came to you, every worry that flashes through his brain about never seeing you again makes him less and less reasonable.
“I think her rushing out crying tells me otherwise Enzo,” Mattheo began to ramble, his brain was far too worried to be able to keep a single thought inside, “We need to give her space, let her have time to think before your date, she’s probably confused she….she probably doesn’t want to get hurt or or I don’t know hurt anyone else. She doesn’t know we want to be with her together….what if she thinks something bad li-like you’ll be mad.” Mattheo snapped his fingers and pointed to his best friend as though he had it all figured out, just to return to his ranting.
“Mattheo calm down, we don’t know anything yet okay,” Enzo knew that when Mattheo got like this, feeding his worries would not help, but as he continued to list off the many holes this plan had that they were just now realizing, the heavy feeling of anxiety settled into his chest.
~~~~
When the next afternoon finally came, you contemplated skipping the date entirely, telling Enzo you had plans after all, but some part of you just wouldn’t allow it. That same part controlled you as you desperately searched for an appropriate first date outfit, throwing dresses and various tops and bottoms on and off as your dorm room grew messy. “Damn Y/N/N, I knew you liked this boy but jeez….this much worry about an outfit?” Your dorm mate and best friend since First Year jokes as she strutted into the room.
“Hannah you’re a lifesaver, I need to borrow a dress, and it needs to be a good one because I already have something to apologize for.” You rambled, turning to her trunk that was always available for you to search through.
“What could you have possibly done to that boy that needs an apology? I think he very well could be obsessed with you.” She giggled, not realizing your worry as you halted your actions entirely, “Ikissedhisbestfriend” you jumbled, turning but avoiding the eyes of your best friend who only understood you thanks to her knowing you so well.
“You…wait did I hear that correctly? You- you and Riddle did what now?” Her shocked, almost excited expression had you feeling worse as you abandoned your search for a dress, flopping down onto your bed as tears welled in your eyes. “He’s gonna hate me when he finds out.” You sighed, hiding your face in your hands as the bed dipped beside you to make room for Hannah.
“Hey hey….Sweetie no rational person could ever hate you.” She sighed, rubbing the back of your hands as she pulled them from your face, “This is a grey area okay, you haven’t made a commitment to either of them and it’s clear they both want to be the one picked. You need to make a decision somehow and if they don’t want to make it easy on you this is going to get dramatic.” Your eyes met hers in confusion as tears ran down your face and onto your mattress, “I guess what I’m trying to say is….you need to make a decision either way and the only way to make the right choice is to know how they both would treat you, and the only way to find that out is to explore both options for a bit.”
“But….I don’t want to hurt them, and I want them both in my life still….I don’t know what I’d do if I made a decision and the other never spoke to me again.” Hannah gave you an apologetic smile before piping up again, “Well….it would be cruel to keep them both at your feet waiting just to never pick, you’ve got two options here, let them go and hope you meet someone else one day, or come to terms with what may happen after you do choose.”
“I’m gonna choose, I just can’t yet, I don’t wanna lose either of them.”
~~~~
Enzo’s breath catches in his throat as he sees you walking into the crowed dining room of the restaurant, the red fabric of your dress hugging you perfectly. The badger necklace he had helped Mattheo pick out rested on your chest so wonderfully he just had to comment on it. “Well isn’t this cute, where’d ya get it huh?” He asks in a teasing tone you know so well.
“Um well, I” As you start trying to speak all that can come out is sobs at the thought of hurting him, suddenly your dress is too tight and the room too stuffy, you can’t breath. “I um,” you try but once again fail. Before you can think you feel hands on your waste and your being tugged out of the busy restaurant by someone as Enzo follows. Once the door was open you rushed into the cold air and walked away from the two.
“Did i do something?” Enzo’s voice was desperate, strained to a point that you thought he was about to cry right now, “Please just tell me how I messed up so i can fix it, I promise I didn’t mean to hurt you,” His voice raised as you kept walking to catch your breath pacing back and forth before taking notice of Mattheo standing beside him.
“What are you doing here?” You spit out, not meaning for it so sound as mean as it did, you sigh as you correct your voice, tears beginning to fall again. “I’m so sorry, I thought I could pick but I can’t, I love you both and I am so so sorry.”
The boys eyes lock together immediately and as though on cue they start to laugh, they know it’s wrong, they know they shouldn’t but they can’t stop. And somehow you know it is okay and start to laugh too.
“What is wrong with you two?” You ask between tears and laughter, you must look a mess but your two best friends still stare at you as though you hung the moon.
“Petal, we want you too, you think we can chose. Us. Two of the dumbest people you have ever known.” Enzo says with a giggle as he steps up to you to kiss you tear streaked face. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Petal, but I was planning on having Mattheo come to our little date anyway, we wanted to tell you tonight how much we want you. Together. All of us.”
Your eyes dart to Mattheo as he smiles wildly down at you, “so you’re not mad at me”
“Of course not Princess, you’re our perfect girl.” Mattheo says in a soft voice as he moves to wrap his arms around both Enzo and y/n, leaving a kiss on both their cheeks as comfort he has never felt begins to settle in his chest. He can be happy like this.
Your rapid heart beat begins to settle in the arms of your two favorite boys, your tears continue but only from happiness and the feeling of pure luck bringing you to the happiest moment of your life.
“Now, how about we finish the date we had planned for you Petal.” Enzo sates as he grabs your hand, your other quickly being grabbed by Mattheo as they begin to lead you to Honeydukes.
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overnightheartbeats · 1 day ago
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The thought of her already making an impression didn't sound right, but if his memory of when he first saw her was any indicator, then she was inclined to believe him. "I have to say, the dancing was unexpected, but it turned out to be my favorite part of the night." One conversation, one dance, and Laurel was hooked. That led her to a diner, and so on. “Hm, yeah,” she hummed in thought thinking of home. “California was home. I was tempted to be honest.” Juju probably would’ve loved it. “I just couldn’t bring myself to leave my dad. It’s just me and him now. No other family, really. Felt terrible to run off and leave him.” Being the second person to do that to him just didn’t feel right. “It does! I’m really excited for them to come over, soon I think.” Juju’s words crept into her mind, wanting to meet him and all. Not a good time to mention that though. “They said they’d try visiting soon, her and her boyfriend. Maybe next month?”
She was quickly discovering that she loved making him laugh. It was such a sweet sound, one she could hear again and again. “Oh, so you’re not above bribery? I’m intrigued.” The look on his face, with that smirk, invited trouble. And Laurel was immediately intrigued, ready to be bribed. His confirmation made her smile, because she still couldn’t tell if they were just joking around, but being kept warm by him seemed worth everything. “Sometimes both, so honestly any and all warm is appreciated. I promise not to touch you with my cold, cold hands.”
“You can hold me to anything you want, but yes promise no judgment on the awesome blankets.” Though, now she was very curious what kind of blankets these were. Did they have some amusing design on them? Or the character blankets, like Spider-Man or something? “And, I hope we still like each other at the end of this getting to know you session,” finishing her earlier sentence. Laurel’s features softened further, her smile growing as she returned the gentle squeeze. Well, well — now, it was her turn to smirk. Amusement tugging on her lips as they both agreed on this eventual next time. “do you? Time to bring out all my wooing skills then. Just to make sure I don’t miss my chance.” Talking about Jenny made her feel awkward, shaking her head at his comment. It certainly seemed like she was upset, but part of her hoped that wasn’t true. “I hope not, because you have very pretty eyes.”
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That comforted her, knowing he was willing to share with her after her awkward question. "Thank you..for, more or less, feeling comfortable to answer." Laurel listened to him talk about family and the birthday celebration, exasperation was evident in his tone. She wondered if he genuinely didn't like celebrating his birthday, just something for her to know - future reference and all. “I have, but that’s nice to see - that kind of commitment to your family. I feel like most people are eager to leave their family and be independent. Hm, I’m glad they insist. You deserve to be celebrated, and cake is never too bad I hope.” She looked his way, trying to decipher if he was serious but his laughter confirmed it for her quickly enough. “Oh, tempting? Funny you say that, I was thinking the same thing. Well, the push and pull can be fun. I promise I’m not as stubborn as my sign says. Sexy, really? Consider me an expert on all things astrology then.” She definitely wasn’t one by any means, but laurel was quick to sign up. “Okay, next question: hobbies. Can I assume dancing is one of them?” Considering they had found the time to dance the two times they crossed paths.
"That you are or well I should say you already had." Laurel had made quite the impression even before he officially met her. "I am too. It worked out that I didn't stay in bed like my original plan had been. To be fair the Halloween party was fun all things considered. I did take you out on the dance floor. Wasn't all bad." His smile grew the longer he stared at her. "Is that where you're from? You did say Texas wasn't your home either. How come you didn't go to college out there? You could have left your dad and gone back?" Eli nodded his head as he smiled thinking of her friend coming to see her. "Bet that makes you happy. Do you know when you'll see her?"
Her laughter made him laugh, it was a contagious moment which they shared together in a odd little way. "Good to know bribery works on you. May end up being my secret weapon." A smirk crossed his features as he gave her a look to say he was thinking up ways to bribe her. "Fair point," he confirmed. "I'll keep you warm. Why not. Is it your feet or hands that get cold?"
"Alright I'll be holding you to that. Dont judge my awesome blankets." Though the thought of her finding the tiger blankets on his bed made him chuckle to himself. He heard her stutter briefly and looked over in fear he had said or done something wrong. But when he locked eyes with her he couldn't help but smile. Squeezing her hand a little bit tighter. "And what?" he prompted her to finish that sentence. "I promise next time you can get both lunch and dinner for me. I do like to be wooed." he shrugged giving a slight mischievous smile. "I really do think that if you weren't there she'd have clawed my eyes out. Took a lot for her to hold back I presume."
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"Don't be. If I wasn't comfortable I wouldn't have answered. But yeah, we're close. I drop everything for them as you have clearly seen. As for the holiday birthday. It's alright. I've never seen a reason to celebrate it since it isn't even my actual one. Who knows when I was actually born. But family insist on it every year." He sounded exasperated but reality was he enjoyed it especially getting a cake after his complaining. "Tempting," he laughed. "But no. I wouldn't ghost you. Something tells me we'd be compatible. A little bit of a push and pull I'd guess but nothing we couldn't conquer if we worked together. I can be pretty level headed if need be. I find astrology rather sexy so I mean, if you want to talk eight world wonders to me then by all means."
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razorblade180 · 18 hours ago
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Inspiration
Ruby:Yo-yo?
Carmine:Hmm?
Ruby:Ren told me you paid a visit to him for some training. Said you did pretty good.
Carmine:Not really. Stances were okay but aura manipulation is weird. Probably won’t rely on it too much.
Ruby:Seems like you’re drawing inspiration from everyone you can. If that the case, I have something for you.
The reapers reveals a long weapon’s case. She puts in the ground in front of her daughter and taps it with her foot, causing it to open up. Two curved blades lay brightly inside. Their detail is so intricate in the engravings and design. It’s obvious they’re meant to combine. Carmine picks them up to find they have little heft to them but are drastically lighter than her own sword. She might as well be holding nothing.
Carmine:Wow, these are crazy looking. Not necessarily my style but I can see how they could be useful.
Ruby:They’re what Cinder uses.
Carmine:…….What? How did y-
Ruby:These are replicas I made and trust me when I say they’re identical. If you put them together then it can fire arrows.
Carmine:Why would you ever make these?
Ruby:Because, my little huntress, I can be as petty and spiteful as anyone else when pushed far enough. Use these on patrol and missions for the next month; study them well. Utility, movement, reach, all that you can.
Carmine:“Know thy enemy” right? I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting this from you considering our differing views on how to handle the situation.
Ruby:I made a vow to you the day you were born that I will be a mom before a huntress when it came to making sure my family was safe. I still plan on finding and taking out Cinder myself, but if for some reason you find her first or she finds you, then by all means, give her every layer of hell you can.
Carmine:I don’t suppose you’ve made me a parasol blade too?
Ruby:If only that’s all it took to learn Neo’s moves. I mean this, just avoid her. She’s at least a three person job and two of them need to hate her.
Carmine:Heh, okay then. Mind if we go a few rounds then?
Ruby:…It’s better if you ask Ren?
Carmine:C’mon. I know you don’t like training me but-
Ruby:No, it not that. I just…I might go too hard if you’re using those.
Carmine:So? Honestly you’d be doing me a favor. Everyone always talks about how intense you can get, all the stories of your passion and hardcore moments. I don’t get to see that. I actually feel weird for never seeing you angry. I get angry all the time!
Ruby:Sweetie, what kind of a parent would I be if I took out repressed rage on my child in a sparring match?
Carmine:…Better than Raven. Better than your mom too.
Ruby:!? Wha-
Carmine:I think you’re pretty cool, despite everything that’s happened. We always try to our feelings out but honestly it never really works well. I get you’re trying to be an example, but it’s okay if normal being a mom doesn’t come as naturally as a huntress. Mix both. I don’t care. I kinda need both. I mean if I can survive you then Cinder would be easier by comparison. Plus…it’s not like I could stop myself from swinging at you seriously either.
Ruby:Did you..are you saying I piss you off?
Carmine:You’re my mom. Every daughter gets pissed at their mom.
Ruby:That’s not…inaccurate. Sigh Are we really doing this?
Carmine:Are my eyes silver? *points blade out* Well, Mrs. Hero? Show me why Cinder is too chicken face you head on!
Ruby:Fine, but name a restaurant first. You may think I prefer being huntsman 24/7 but I’d like to have some regular quality time with my daughter after this.
Carmine:Hmmm, how about your home cooking?
Ruby:…*smiles* Deal.
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Note
HIII OK SO THIS IS A REALLY SPECIFIC REQ SO IF U CANT DO IT THEN ITS ALL GOOD
so
COULD U DO AVERY X BESTFRIEND!READER (PLATONIC OFC) WHERE HER BESTGRIEND IS LIKE A SINGER / ACTRESS
MAYBE THE READER JS GOING THROUGH A ROUGH SPOT W JAMESON AND AVERY COMFORTS HER.
JUST SOME BESTIE LOVE YK
hi!! I’m SO SO SO SO SO SO INSANELY sorry it’s taken me so long to respond to this request it was literally requested on the 20th of august and I feel so bad!! but I finally finished and I hope you enjoy
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title: she’s always there
pairing: avery x bestfriend!reader (platonic)
synopsis: after a fight with jameson you know you need avery at your side to make things right again
warnings: mild swearing
a/n: three months too late but I didn’t forget you, hope you enjoy anon :))
taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast
The door slams shut. The sound echoes through my ears, bouncing around my head, a painful reminder of all that had just exploded. I stumble forwards, my fingers shaking on the doorknob. I want to run to him but my legs are stuck in an invisible cement. So my body gives way and I crumble to the floor.
Tears blur my vision as I shake in a pathetic heap. My chest hurts with each ugly sob. I hate fighting, but I hate this even more. This pain, this agony. I sob harder until my throat is so raw only cracked sounds come out.
I stay there for what feels like hours, maybe even days. I’m heavy with exhaustion and grief. I know I need to get up but I don’t move. I can’t will myself out of this position. Fear flickers in the pit of my stomach. Why can’t I get up? I have no energy, no motivation.
Nothing, I feel nothing.
But even the dread of feeling nothing doesn’t even pull me from the numbness. My skin is thickened with a layer of senselessness. I’m too weighted by my own sadness to move. This happened before, this happened last time, this couldn’t happen again.
I could hear my heart thumping in my ears. The sound almost deafening. I’m taking sharp jagged breaths that I can’t control. I need Avery.
I need her more than anything right now. She promised me if things got bad again that she would be one call away. And she made me promise that I’d call her. I couldn’t break my promise, I’m not a person who breaks their promises.
But I haven’t seen her in weeks and what if she only thinks I call her when I’m struggling? What if she thinks I’m using her? What if she gets tired and just walks out like everyone else?
I usually block out ‘the before’. But I can remember snippets, like how I couldn’t to get out of bed, to get off of the floor, to move, to eat, to take care of myself and how I felt then I’m starting to feel now. An icy coolness is pulsating through my veins, so sharp that I can’t feel it anymore.
My phone is next to my face. I can see it. But my finger feels like they’re being dragged down my a large iron ball and chain. I can’t even reach my phone for my emergency contact. My hollow chest begins to throb.
“Call Avery,” I whisper to my phone, “please call Avery. I need her.”
One ring. Tw-
“Ave,” I murmur, my voice shaking.
She replies almost instantly, “what’s wrong?”
She’s sharp, she’s ready, she’s immediate. She’s going to help me pull myself together, I tell myself.
“I need you,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say other than the truth. I can’t sugarcoat anything now. I’m not fine. I can’t move.
“I’m coming,” Avery tells me.
“It’s getting bad again,” I snivel the words just blurting out before there’s enough time for them to be filtered
I feel her freeze for a moment, “bad?”
“I’m stuck on the floor,” I mumble, my throat hoarse and sore, “I can’t move.”
“Just wait there okay,” she comforts, “I’m coming.”
“My life is a mess,” I ramble, not being able to stop myself. I’ve lost control, over my mind, over my body, over my words.
“I’ll be over in two minutes okay, stay on the line with me,” she says urgently.
“I’m sorry,” I say choking out another sob, “I’m so so sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologise,” she says firmly but with kindness behind her tone, “just sit tight and I’m coming.”
“Okay,” I exhale, trying to ignore the lump growing in my throat.
“What happened?” she asks so softly I just want to melt into even more of a puddle of a human being. I’m halfway there, my limbs sprawled every which way, my tearstained face covered by a curtain of hair.
“Everything went wrong,” I tremble, not knowing how else to describe it. The scene plays out in the mind again and again, a pitiless record of pain on loop.
“What’s everything?” Avery asks, her voice so mellow, so gentle, so calm.
“Jameson.”
His name sends a twinge of pain across my chest.
“Oh sweetie I’m sure it’s okay,” she says, “it’s normal for couples to fight.”
“Not like this,” I shake my head as if she can see me.
“Let me in and we’ll talk about it,” she says.
“You’re outside?” I ask my voice opting for the tone of a vulnerable child. She’d arrived faster than I thought she would.
“Yes,” she confirms.
“Door’s unlocked,” I murmur, the words kind of slurring into one another as I said them.
“I might get a speeding ticket tomorrow but it’ll be worth it,” the door opens, “besides Alisa will probably be able to get me out of it.”
“Mmmm,” I respond, feeling tired, each of my limbs weighing me down as if they were made of lead.
“Sweetie you need to stand up,” she tells me gently, I can feel her hand running up and down my arm rhythmically.
“I can’t,” I wheeze, everything was so heavy it ached.
“You can,” Avery replies, “I’m going to help you.”
“I’m tired,” I groan, my vision blurring as my eyelids fall shut.
“Then we can go to bed,” she says.
My lips quiver, “Avery?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs.
“I can’t stand up,” I whisper, the ghost of my voice vibrating against my throat, “I can’t do it.”
“Here then let’s sit up first,” she says.
Slowly she helps me into a sitting position. The world feels a little hazy. My head rolls backwards and thumps on the wall, it’s too heavy to hold up.
A flicker of pain spreads across the back of my head, the first real feeling in my state of numbness. She wraps her arms around me and I fall into her softly crying. I don’t know if it’s the pain in my head or the pain in my heart endorsing the tears but I don’t care.
She holds me tightly and tenderly as if she might never let go. I fear if she does I’ll fall apart and break into millions of pieces on the floor that can never be put back together again. My entire body shakes as my tears dampen my best friend’s shirt.
“Come on,” she says slowly, helping me to my feet after a long bout of silence.
I don’t want to move but my legs are willed too having obtained pins and needles from my static state. I don’t know how she managed to get me thinking about something other than my absence of feeling, allowing me to walk, but she did. We slump down on the sofa together and I curl up into her grip. I don’t want to let Avery go, not when my mind is retelling the story.
“What is your problem with me?” I scoff, putting the dishes into the cupboard not really meeting his eyes.
He’d been offish all through dinner, the one chance we actually had to spend time with each other and of course he picks that moment to be mad.
“My problem?” he says, with a bitter laugh, “you want to know my problem?”
“That is what I just said isn’t it?” I quip back, a bit snarky.
“Where are you half the time?” he asks, a degree of hurt in his voice that makes my heart twist.
I stare at him, dumbfounded as my brain registers the question, “what?”
“I never see you anymore,” Jameson tells me, “I mean any longer without you and I feel like I’m going to forget your face.”
“You do see me,” I reply curtly.
“No I don’t and you know it,” he snaps, a wild looking shining through his emerald eyes.
“Jamie I can’t help my schedule,” I sigh, putting my hands on my hips, “I didn’t choose this.”
“Maybe you didn’t but you’re not trying to do anything about it,” he accuses me.
“I am!” I exclaim, throwing my hands up into the air.
“No you’re not,” he shakes his head, “you’re not doing anything and it’s not fair.”
“Give it a month and-“
“No! I’m tired of waiting,” he says, desperation bleeding into his voice, “it’s always next month this and next week that, I’m sick and tired of waiting for us.” he runs a hand through his unruly hair, “isn’t love meant to come first?”
“I need a job,” I say in a low voice, “I need money Jameson.”
“I’ll give you money,” he groans a pleading look in his features.
“You don’t understand,” I yell, “I need to make this for myself.”
“Why?” he shouts, “I could give you anything you ever wanted!”
“I wanted to earn something, not just be given it,” I try to explain.
“You’ve earned everything you need to,” he presses on.
“Acting is what I love to do Jamie,” I tell him, the passion seeping into my voice, “these auditions are what I love to do.”
“I thought you loved me,” he shoots back.
“I do,” I exhale, “you know I do.”
Jameson shakes his head with a bitter and slightly pained sort of smile, “it feels like all you care about is this stupid work of yours.”
My eyes are squinted shut. I’m trapped in a memory I hate, held captor in a prison of my mind’s own making.
“Talk to me,” Avery whispers, “I’m here.”
“Jamie hates me, I barely see you, I overwork, I can’t sleep, all my auditions are going horribly and I’m just messing everything up-“ I ramble, my voice becoming thicker and thicker with emotion with each word.
“Hey,” she says softly, “just breathe.”
“I can’t, it’s like everything is coming at me all at once and I can’t handle it,” I choke, “I feel like I’m drowning Avery and every time I kick up to the surface another wave takes me out again. It’s this cycle that I can’t make my way out of.”
“Oh sweetheart,” she soothes, “just try for me and ignore all of it for a second and just look into my eyes.”
I meet her gentle hazel eyes, but they blur as tears fill my vision.
“Think about us,” she says, “right now. Me and you together, talking to each other. Focus on the present, stop thinking about the future and the past.”
My mind quiets a little, the raging storm of black clouds and loud sounds begins to dim down into a low hum. It’s still there but less. It’s better. A feel a spark of hope pulsate through my veins, previously darkened by hopelessness.
“Feeling a little better?” she tilts her head to the side.
“A little,” I nod hesitantly. I don’t want to speak too soon, there is still time for things too get much much worse.
“That’s good,” she smiles, “that’s really good.”
I exhale slowly, a little shakily. I lean further into Avery and her arms naturally wrap around me. I’m in the safety and warmth of her arms, her soft touch.
“I’ve got you,” she reminds me, “and when you’re ready, just talk and I’ll listen.”
“I don’t know where to start,” I laugh, buts it’s a forced laugh that I soon regret as if makes my throat ache.
“Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Jameson?” she suggests.
“You’re being so pathetic,” I snap, rolling my eyes.
“And you’re being selfish,” he exclaims.
I stop in my tracks and spin to face him, “for wanting to make something of myself for my life? I’m not you, Jameson. I didn’t get everything handed to me on a golden platter.”
Hurt flashes across his face.
“You think I haven’t worked for what I am today?” he barks, “you think I was just given all of this?”
“I���m just saying it’s not as simple as you think it is,” I groan, trying to walk away.
He stands in front of me, looking deep into my eyes, his tone softens, “I would move the sun and the stars just to spend time with you,” anger clouds his features, sending an overcast of fury to his eyes, “but I don’t see you trying to change anything to see me.”
“I have tried,” I tell him, “but it’s really difficult Jameson and I’m exhausted,”
“Exhausted of what? Of this, of our relationship,” he snaps, quick to jump to some ridiculous conclusion.
“Are you drunk?” I laugh.
“Why do you always think I’m drunk?” he shoots back, venom on his tongue.
“Because you’re spouting nonsense,” I reply, raising my voice a little.
“Of course, of course,” he rolls his eyes in his bout of sarcasm, “I’m the one who’s spouting nonsense.”
“What do you want me to do Jameson?” I ask, a lump growing in my throat, “drop everything for you?”
“Love comes with sacrifices,” he shrugs in response.
“So what I’m meant to sacrifice my entire passion?” I scoff.
He couldn’t be serious.
“No I’m just asking you to at least attempt to make more time,” he says, “I mean don’t you miss me like I miss you?”
“Of course I miss you,” I sigh.
“Then why don’t you show it?” he asks and I can see how much it wounds him, “you’re a closed book around me now. I used to be able to read you so well but now it’s like a blank page.”
“How would you know, I thought you didn’t see me anymore?” I bite back.
“We got into a fight,” I whisper, memories flooding back.
“A bad one?” Avery says carefully, like she’s treading on eggshells.
“He left,” I shrug.
“Asshole,” she mutters in my defence.
“No,” I shake my head, sitting back up to face her, “I was horrible, I would’ve left me.”
Beat.
“But he was horrible too,” I sniff.
“People say things they don’t mean in fights,” Avery points out, reaching to touch my arm.
“Or they say what they’re really thinking,” I blurt out, my mind is too consumed by my own thoughts to filter what I’m saying.
“More often than not it’s things they don’t mean, trust me,” she says, a tenderness in her voice that makes my heart squeeze, “besides Jameson can be a real impulsive idiot sometimes.”
“I love that about him,” I chuckle snivelling slightly, “but… it’s just that lately things haven’t been the same between us.”
“How so?”
“I’m leaving,” Jameson snaps. He’s finally had enough, he’s finally walking out on me. Of course. How could I possibly think someone could really love me as much as he said he did.
“Where are you going?” I ask, a sudden panic clawing at my chest overriding all of the built up anger and resentment.
“Why do you care?” he shrugs, grabbing his keys swiftly.
“Because I love you, you idiot!” I yell.
He stops and slowly turns around. Our eyes connect and for a split second deja vu washes over me and we’re meeting for the first time. I’m falling in love with his enchanting green eyes.
“Do you?” he asks, “really?”
“You’re being such an idiot right now,” I scrunch up my face as I shout, “I hope you know that.”
“If you’ll excuse me I’m going to go and get drunk and spout nonsense like I usually do,” he says, “according to you.”
“Oh come off of it,” I scream, a sudden surge of pure rage appearing.
“What?”
“Stop acting like mr high and mighty on your high horse,” I snarl, “it’s not fair.”
“You know what’s not fair, what you’re doing to me,” he barks, “I’m in limbo here, I don’t know whether you’re coming or going, the only time I see you is when I leave this house and you’re asleep.”
“Then wake me up,” I deadpan, arms folded.
“And make you even more exhausted?” he scoffs, “fat chance!”
“I’m giving you solutions and you’re just deterring them,” I exclaim.
“Because you know they’re stupid solutions,” he explodes.
“Well life is just keeping us apart. I’m always at auditions, he’s off with his brothers, then when I come home he’s asleep and I can’t sleep and then when I finally sleep, he wakes up,” I blubber, “we’re not getting enough time to be with each other and I’m trying so hard to make time, but I don’t have the energy because I’m so exhausted from everything else.”
“And that’s okay, that’s understandable,” she reassures me, “he’s probably just frustrated because he doesn’t get to spend time with you, that shows he loves you, right? Someone who didn’t wouldn’t experience these feelings.”
“I suppose,” I shrug, “but Avery you should have seen him. He was so mad when he walked out. It’s the biggest fight we’ve ever been in.”
“I’m sure things will get better, they always do,” she soothes, “I mean think about to your last fight, how long did that last?”
Barely a few hours, I recall. Jameson and I had never fought for long in our relationship. It was so hard to stay so mad at someone I loved so much.
“What if it’s different this time?” I murmur, imagining the worst.
“It’s not,” Avery says, “trust me.”
“He was just so mad,” I say, biting my lip, “I’ve never seen him look at me like that.”
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Avery tells me gently, “whatever the outcome is, I’ve got you the whole way.”
“Thanks Ave,” I try to smile but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes, “he doesn’t get it, he thinks he does, but he doesn’t.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s getting so angry,” she suggests.
“I wish he would just let me explain,” I groan, putting my head in my hands.
“Why don’t you just communicate that to him?” she says.
“Because I have no time to!” I exclaim, not meaning to sound so defensive and snappy, “I just need to get through this month and then everything will be back to normal.”
“Sweetheart, I think you need to make some time to talk to him,” Avery says earnestly, “in this month. Explain this all to him, otherwise he’s going to keep building up all this anger for no reason and things are going to get worse.”
“Why is he so angry?” I ask in frustration, meaning for the question to be rhetorical.
“Because he doesn’t like not seeing you,” she replies, “he loves you.”
He love me. He loves me. He loves me. The words echo around my head relentlessly.
“I’m stupid,” I say, letting my head hit Avery’s shoulder.
“You’re not stupid,” she replies, putting her arm around me and rubbing small circles on my shoulder with her thumb.
“He hates me,” I mumble into her.
She shakes her head, “he doesn’t hate you.”
“It’s always the same with you, you always want more-“
“I want to see you,” Jameson yells, “is that so much to ask?”
“I will never be enough, you can’t just take me for who I am, what I am, what I need,” I shout back.
“What about what I need?” he questions, “I need to see you and it’s driving me crazy when we’re apart.”
“You need to find a coping mechanism then,” I reply, snarky and spiteful.
He looks at me with a look I’ve never seen in his eyes before. Pure unadulterated hatred. Like he wants me to burn on a thousand spikes after a session of torture.
“Fuck you,” he spits at me, his face so close to mine I can feel his anger.
“Piss off,” I hiss back.
“I will thank you very much,” he replies, swinging the door open.
“And don’t come home,” I snap, “I don’t want to see your face.”
“It’s not like you’ll notice, you don’t see my face anyway,” he calls, slamming the door shut behind him.
“What if this time he doesn’t come back,” I murmur, frightening myself more and more it’s each drastic thought that pops into my head.
“He will come back,” she soothes, continuing to rubbing small circles on my arm, “he always comes back to you.”
She has a point. Jameson always came back, he just needs time to cool off. I hope…
“You’re stronger than you think,” she whispers in my ear, like she can hear the doubts screaming in my brain.
“I don’t feel it,” I grumble.
“That’s what makes you even stronger,” Avery says.
“I’m crying over a boy,” I deadpan.
“Who hasn’t been there?” she smiles, wiping my tears away, “now come on, I’ll get the ice cream tubs, you grab the endless flow of blankets and pillows and we’ll have a movie night.”
I crack a small smile and nod as we stand up. She begins to walk while my legs struggle to follow.
“Avery,” I say, taking a small step forwards.
She spins around with a bright smile, “Yeah?”
“Thank you,” I exhale, “so much.”
sorry there haven’t been a lot updates lately I’ve been super busy 🤍🤍
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malevolentmissmouse43 · 11 hours ago
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Don’t read this if you haven’t watched part 2
Welp. Now we know why they didn’t get renewed for a 6th season. Fuck me for having hope, eh? I knew we were cooked by episode 8. I’m having war flashbacks from my time in the 100 fandom…
I mean, what is there to say? I’m devastated. They knew where the season would end and they still robbed us of any meaningful Jiara content in part 2. And to kill off the kid that spent his entire life being abused and thinking he didn’t deserve to be loved? By his own blood father who ALSO turned out to be a massive disappointment who made him feel unworthy of love?? I’m shaking. I feel sick to my stomach. There is not an ounce of satisfaction for me coming out of this death.
I said what I said about leaving this fandom if JJ died and I meant it. For my own emotional well being I have to step away. To everyone who has been so kind and welcoming to me these past few years, thank you. To those who read my fanfics and interacted with my posts, thank you. And to those who reached out, sending me messages, engaging in conversation with me, thank you.
My time in this fandom has been a roller coaster of the highest highs and lowest lows, but I’m so grateful to have been a part of it. If you’d like to continue following me, that’s great. I’m sure I’ll find a new hyper fixation soon enough. But if not, if you only followed me for obx/jiara, then I completely understand if you unfollow me. I myself just unfollowed all the obx related blogs I follow. I swear it’s nothing personal. I just really need to get away from all this.
It hurts my heart that I’m unable to sign off this post with a ‘P4L’ but I see now that was a lie, so I won’t. I wish Rudy all the best and I hope he goes on to find success in whatever avenues of life he decides to take.
Thank you all, but this is goodbye.
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dakota1435 · 11 hours ago
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Moonlight Blood – Vampire!Sylus X Reader ✩₊˚.☪︎ ⁺₊✧
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Word Count: 2.8k
tags: NSFW!!, blood mention, sylus is consent king
(Previous chapters on my page)
Chapter 5
For the rest of the time, you don’t see Sylus nor the twins. It astonished you a bit, how much they left you alone. Given such privacy, you decided to wander down the same hallways, same corridors. There were definitely parts of the mansion you haven’t seen yet, but maybe that was for the best. You enter a broad common room, one that actually has a large glass window. The sun was rising, you noticed. Your sense of time has been skewed since you’ve arrived, considering there were a lack of windows, and mostly saw Sylus at night. Oddly enough, you didn’t really feel different.
As you stare out of the window, watching the sky blend with colors, you hear a low voice behind you.
“Do you miss the sun?” Sylus asked. You turned around, a little unphased at his sudden appearance. He lounges comfortably in a large leather chair.
“I do,” you answered honestly, “but I never saw the night sky as much. It is beautiful and comforting in some way.” Sylus takes a glance at you as you spoke, but doesn’t respond. “Where were you?” You spoke again, hoping to fill the thick silence in the air.
“Wrapping up some loose ends from the auction earlier.” He smirks, his canines flashing. You didn’t know what to say to that.
“The sun is coming up, shouldn’t you…be away?” You said, choosing your words carefully.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No! No I—”
“The sun isn’t going to kill me, kitten, it probably takes a lot more than that,” he interrupted, finding entertainment in your anxiety. “But, I don’t like it either. I was going to leave soon,” he admitted. It made you realize you just didn’t know anything about Sylus. Mysterious as ever. He stands up and calmly walks towards you. It takes a few paces before his height is towering over you. You don’t move, unsure if it was fear or curiosity that kept you rooted in your spot. He tucks your thick, long hair behind your ear. He looked down at you as if you weren’t real, that touching your hair brought him back to reality.
“Can I ask you something?” You felt a dash of courage reach up to you. So far, you’ve been able to speak freely in front of Sylus. But you were never going to push the limit.
“Speak.”
You take a breath, as if preparing your question. “How often do you need to… feed?” The last word barely came out. You averted your gaze, almost embarrassed you were asking such a question. It felt too personal for someone like Sylus. Much to your surprise, he snickers.
“I take care of myself when I need to.” His words were a bit vague. A thought popped in your mind and you blurted it out without thinking.
“Are you feeding from other people?” As the question leaves your lips, you feel something uneasy in your gut. Your heartbeat begins to pick up, no doubt Sylus wouldn’t notice. You don’t know why you would feel uncomfortable with Sylus feeding from someone other than you. Sure, you didn’t want him to hurt innocent people. But that’s what he bought you for, right? In the two weeks you’ve been here, he’s fed once. It keeps you on edge constantly, always mentally preparing yourself for Sylus. When did you become so submissive?
You feel Sylus standing deathly still. It doesn’t help the growing anxiety in your chest. “It’s not easy to control myself with someone like you. But it hurts, doesn’t it? The bite. I don’t exactly want to scare you off, kitten. I paid good money for you.” He places a soft hand under your chin, compelling you to look into his eyes. You realized he didn’t exactly answer your question, which was an answer itself. His touch was comforting, but his words reminded you of what you were to him. Just blood. That’s the only reason why he bought you. He’s taking care of you, because you are blood. Something churns in your stomach, a feeling you couldn’t quite grasp.
“You can’t scare me off.” A lie, but you wanted to come off stronger. That you weren’t weak, even if that meant willingly submitting yourself. You hold the eye contact between you two, standing your ground. A smirk teases his lips.
“I suppose you’re stronger than I’d like to think.” It sounded like an insult. He lowers his head close to yourself, his lips inches away from your ear. “Tell me, then…” his voice grew darker, huskier. It gave you goosebumps. “If I bit you right now, would you resist? Would you squirm in the pain I give to you?” His sudden change in demeanor makes you hold your breath. He slowly lowers his hand down to your wrist before firmly grabbing it. A soft gasp escapes from your mouth from the rough contact. He stands himself up, looking back at you again. Still holding your wrist, he brings it up near his mouth. You watch, silently, as he touches his lips against the pale of your skin. Not exactly a kiss, but something else entirely. It’s…Intimate.
“It doesn’t have to hurt so much, you know,” he said, dropping your arm back down.
“It doesn’t?” You questioned, trying to find the answer before he gave it to you.
“Give yourself to me. Give me all of you,” he urged. He slightly bows and extends his hand out to you. He was inviting you. “Let me guide you through the pain. Let me take care of everything.” The pink morning glow started to fill the room. You take a look outside before back at Sylus. His palm, face up, is waiting for you. Beckoning you, in a way. His tone was seductive and sweet like warm honey. You realized he was telling you to trust him. You feel your mind hesitate, but your fingertips tingle with anticipation for what’s to come. Sylus was difficult to read, but you knew that he was trying to be gentle with you. In his own way, at least. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing for what’s to come. If the pain won’t be as bad…then surely it can be more bearable. You take a deep breath as Sylus’ unwavering stare burns into you.
He won. Steadily, you reach back out to him. A wicked smile flashes his lips, his white fangs reminding you of what was to come. Your hand just barely rests above his.
“Come,” he commanded. Without warning, you are instantly transported into a dark, windowless room. You still grip onto his hand, afraid you’ll trip. A few warm lights emit in the room, giving it a visible glow so that you could see. Sylus doesn’t take his stare off of you. It was like he was observing every part of you, every reaction and movement. Taking a look around, you found yourself to be in the same room you woke up in after being bit the first time. Given on Sylus’ choosing, you assumed this was his personal room. “I hear your heart pounding. You are still frightened,” he pointed out. You didn’t realize your heart has been pulsating since you grabbed your hand.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, unsure why you were even apologizing in the first place. Everything about this situation was unpredictable. You didn’t know what to think, let alone feel.
“Relax,” he commanded again, “you can handle it.” His confidence in you was harsh, but mildly comforting. He slowly closes the distance between you two, his close proximity causing you to be still. He caresses your jaw, his touch feather-light. It felt like electricity, his touch lingering with a buzz.
“Tell me,” he says. You look up at him, a little puzzled. He takes a step closer, your bodies almost touching. The back of your legs were close to the edge of the bed. If Sylus comes any closer, you’d have to sit yourself back on the bed. “Tell me that you’ll give yourself to me. All of you.” He lowers his head and places a gentle kiss on the side of your neck.
Oh.
You can feel the rapid heat swell in your cheeks. If your heart was already pounding, you weren’t sure if it was going to keep beating much longer. Sylus doesn’t move another inch as he awaits your response. You swallow, preparing for the words about to leave your mouth.
“I…I give myself to you, Sylus.” You whispered. He shifts forward a bit, causing you to sit on the bed below you. His body now hovered above you, his leg placed deliberately between yours, causing you to open up a bit more. Never, in your life, have you thought this is where you would be. Your head swam with racing thoughts of what was about to come. But, there was something in his touch that made you feel warm all over. It soothed you, like a heavy-weight blanket. You felt dizzy, your nerves tingling where he touched. It felt like fire and ice at the same time. He places another kiss on your neck, the sensitivity makes you want to squirm.
“Be a good girl. I’ll take care of you,” he reassures you again, sensing your nervousness. His lips brush against your ear before you feel his hot, wet tongue trace up the skin. The sudden feeling betrayed the breath you were holding, causing you to sigh out loud. “Don’t hide anything from me. You said you would give me all of you.” His tone turns darker, possessive even. You had no idea how to process any of this, it all felt like it was moving too fast. Your body and mind were at war with each other. You craved more, desired more, but your mind told you this was still a predator. A very big, hungry monster. His body presses closer against you, one hand embracing the side of your neck while the other grasps just above your hip bone. Another kiss to your neck.
You haven’t experienced another experience this close. Sure, there were people you flirted with. Talked dirty with, made out with. But this? It was something on another level. It felt ethereal, as if Sylus was a fallen angel made for you. Each touch, each kiss felt like liquid sin. It was rather intoxicating and since you were this far, you already decided you would give yourself wholly. You feel yourself become softer as his touch continues. You wrap your free arm around him, holding his head as you let him continue. Your reciprocation gives Sylus a silent permission to go further. He lifts his head to stare at you, his crimson eyes filled with desire like you have never seen. You find yourself already breathing hard, knowing your cheeks are red and eyes glossy.
At this moment, this was the point of no return. Holding the side of your face, Sylus lowers himself to kiss you. It’s soft and gentle, but as you return the kiss it becomes more greedy. His grasp on you tightens and you’re both moving with uncontrollable desire. You feel his tongue over your lips and without hesitation you open your mouth more. You didn’t care you were at the mercy of your buyer, a blood thirsty vampire. Dangerous and a killer. You numbed the thoughts with the current pleasure. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you told yourself. You feel your body becoming hot all over, a dampness forming in between your legs. A soft moan escapes your lips when they aren't occupied with Sylus’.
“Do you want more?” He breaks the kiss, his voice husky and deep. Your lips tingle from the kissing that you didn’t want to stop. Unconsciously you graze your fingers over your lips, feeling them plump and wet. You nod in response. “I need to hear you say it,” he said darkly. Sure enough, he didn’t move until he heard you speak again,
“...Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed, flustered at his teasing behavior. “I want more.” On cue, Sylus leans back down to kiss you with passion. You feel his hand trace down your chest, over your stomach, and stopping right above your core. With ease, he slips his hand under your clothes. Your breath is caught in your throat as he begins to touch you. You hold onto him tighter, as if you could seep through the floor. He begins kissing your neck again, along with your jaw.
“Already so wet, are you?” Sylus snickers under his breath. You wish you could bury your face, a little embarrassed at your extreme sensitivity. His hand teases you below, causing you to whimper. Without a doubt, you were utterly soaked. He sits himself up, still playing with you. His brows were a little furrowed and his breathing labored. It turned you on more, to see that he had the same desire. You could tell from his piercing gaze he loved to watch you twitch under his touch. He wanted to see all the faces you could make, all the sounds coming from your pretty little throat. Sylus teases your entrance before putting a finger in. You gasp, looking up where his hand is. It was just one finger…yet it felt already enough. It slips in with ease, prompting Sylus to slowly move in and out. You couldn’t hold back the moans anymore as he thumbs your clit, lazily rubbing in circles.
If this is what heaven felt like, you were ready to go.
He added another finger and you felt full. You couldn’t imagine anything more than that. You dramatically reach out to him, desperate to hold and cling to. You take your courage and crash your lips to his again. Your lead takes him by surprise, but he doesn’t falter. His hand is working harder now, your moans slipping in your kisses. The pleasure made your mind blank, only focusing on one thing only; Sylus. Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.
“...Please.” You mumble. You could barely think straight. Sylus lifts his head, and his hand works harder.
“Please, what? Speak sweetheart.” You were already drunk on your own pleasure. Words pop in your mind but fade as you feel yourself getting closer. It’s as if he knew every sweet spot about you. Everything about his touch was perfect and it made your muscles feel like jelly. He takes his two fingers out for a moment, earning a whine from you, before he slicks them against your throbbing clit. He slips them in again, back to their original position. Feeling wet all over, a new form of pleasure overtakes you. You feel your core tightening.
“Don’t stop,” you breathed, trying to concentrate on every single thrust and touch he gave you. You were becoming undone so easily beneath his touch. Your eyes glazed over him, seeing his starving expression. You think, now, it was time. You put your head to the side, exposing your neck as best as you could. You could feel your legs tremble, knowing you were close. “Bite,” you barely managed to get out. Your moans were uncontrollable, it was a miracle you weren’t hyperventilating.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” Sylus said, his voice dark with lust. His mouth was slightly parted as he breathed fast, his fangs slightly exposed.
“Mmmf– Bite!” You yelled out. Sylus doesn’t hesitate after the words leave your lips. He licks up your neck before sinking his teeth down. While he still fingered you, his bite created a new form of pleasure like you have never experienced. Instantaneously, you come on his hand. Your thighs shake as you dig your nails into the back of Sylus. He cautiously removes his hand as he still drinks from you. Your breath was rapid, a light headedness coming in heavy. Well, you thought to yourself, it didn’t really hurt. Your grip on Sylus loosens, causing him to pull away from you. He looks at you with wide eyes, a drop of blood falling past his lips. He must’ve thought he went too far, but seeing you were still conscious, he gives you a rare, soft smile. A sheen of sweat wears on you, your cheeks still flushed. You were glowing from the after pleasure. As your breathing becomes more in control, Sylus speaks.
“Are you feeling okay?” He asked plainly. You can’t help but laugh, feeling sheepish knowing you came just from his hand and bite.
“Yes.” You smile back at him, feeling your muscles worn with exhaustion. As you calm down from the orgasm, you can feel your eyelids getting heavy.
“You did well,” he praised, tucking a wild strand of hair behind your ear. Something about his constant praise made you blush. “I’ll draw you a bath,” he said, before promptly lifting himself up off of you. The physical absence made you ache in a new way, a way you never felt before. He goes into the master bathroom before you hear a rush of water pouring in. For the few seconds you have, you recall what happened. You feel your neck, the wounds already healed.
Something deep buries in you, and you knew this was just the beginning
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