#i’m just posting to myself nobody knows what i’m talking about. whatever

[mildmayfoxe]

whole new world of gig bags has opened up since i got mine in uhhhh approx 2007. they’re like cool and sleek and fashionable now. maybe that was always an option and i just got an ugly one. maybe when i get my trumpet cleaned i’ll get a new gig bag

[vagueiish]

what are you supposed to do when the thing you want also happens to be a thing that has a high chance of kicking off a major spiral of self-loathing? and it’s something that’s apparently kind of necessary to be a fully actualized human being???

[hotpinkstars]

LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader

- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.

- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....

- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912

When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.

“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.

“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.

“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”

You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize. 

“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.

“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?” 

You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!” 

You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?” 

You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”

He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.

Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better. 

But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,

“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”

“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”

You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too. 

“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.

“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”

You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso. 

“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon. 

But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Ford wakes up in Dimension 52, hopped up on painkillers after his metal plate installation surgery, and he’s just rambling about how he misses you.

While the surgery may have been a success but Ford was feeling a sense of melancholy within his chest the second he opened his eyes.

‘Y/n?’ His voice slurred as your name was the first thing to leave his lips before realising that you weren’t by his side, the seven eyed oracle Jheselbraum was.

‘They are safe at home, safe from harm.’ She replied with all knowing certainty that still left Ford a little miffed.

‘I miss them,’ Ford began as memories of you being you flashed in the forefront of his mind, ‘they would use to wear my turtlenecks and trenchcoats, I hope they still do even if I’m too far away to see them do so.’ He chuckles halfheartedly as the ache in his chest only grew the more he reminisced. ‘The red turtleneck was their favourite and they looked really cute in it too that I just wanted to squish their cheeks and kiss them…but I’m too cowardly.’ Ford then pouts.

the pain medication was making him spill some truths of his heart that was entirely missing you and your sweet smile, your cute laughter and your well…everything! All the things he wanted to say to you, every thought he ever had about you and even his favourite things about you were coming to light in his post surgery stupor.

but regardless of what was causing Ford’s lips to have become loosened because all he wanted to talk about was you, you, and oh you!

‘Too cowardly to tell them how much I care about them, too cowardly to tell them that the moment I realised what I felt for them was beyond platonic, so much so to the point where I stayed awake at night thinking they’d hate me if I ever told them how I truly felt.’ Ford admits as he looks up to the high ceiling of the room he was slowly recovering in, only to feel the most alone he had ever felt in his entire life.

Ford swallowed thickly as his mouth seemed to keep telling Jheselbraum just how much the lack of your presence had affected him. ‘They kept me sane during times where I believed myself to have gone mad. They kept me company during my late nights of research, not once complaining about their own lack of sleep because they were too busy worrying about mine to notice the dark bags beginning to form under their eyes…but I did and I blamed myself for that.’

Ford trailed off as he distinctly remembered your look of exhaustion and the worry he felt, even now when he was god knows how many dimensions away from you he was, and the reassuring smile you’d give him when you knew he was questioning your ability to keep going.

You were far more stronger than he was but he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing now, now that he was gone and whether or not you’ve been taking care of yourself.

‘They were the first person to hold my hand and not get scared.’ Ford said with a wide smile. ‘They didn’t care whether I had an extra finger or whatever. To them I was Ford, the loveable but sometimes Insufferable smart ass.’ Ford couldn’t help but hysterically chuckle at your nicknames for him because it was true! He was an insufferable smart ass but then remembered how you’d call him your insufferable smart ass. Your as in he was yours to call an insufferable smart ass, nobody else’s.

‘I miss them so much that I feel an ache here.’ He then sloppily points to what he thinks was his heart, however the pain meds had him pointing at his left arm unknowingly but Jheselbraum knew what he meant, you were indeed an important figure in Ford’s life that he’d find some difficulty trying to navigate a life without you in it. ‘It hurts a lot whenever I think about how much of a distance there is between us now. It hurts even more knowing that they might’ve moved on, while I still hold to hope to one day hold them in my arms once again, breathing them in and that really nice shampoo they use.’ Ford lets his arm drop to his side, eyes never once looking away from the ceiling.

‘I want to go home.’ He then said.

‘And you shall in due time.’ Jheselbraum reassures him.

‘Not to the shack,’ Ford said with a frown, ‘I meant back to them, back to y/n.’ He clarifies. ‘For they are the only home I’ll ever want to go back to.’

‘And like I said Stanford Pines, you shall in due time, but that time is not now.’ Jheselbraum says as she stands up from the chair, brushing herself down as she moves to walk out of the room to leave Ford to rest. ‘But you will see your beloved again, that is for certain.’ She adds.

‘Do you think they’ve missed me?’ Ford wonders aloud.

‘More than anything.’ Was all the oracle said before leaving the room.

A smile crept on Ford’s face as he felt himself succumbing to sleep. ‘I missed them too, more than anything…I’m coming home my dear…don’t stay up too late okay?’

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Feelings and Faults (Wolverine)

Description: Logan loves Y/N but she’s too caught up on the past.

Word Count: 1,020

Requests: Hi I was just wondering if you could write wolverine x reader smut where he is in love/obsessed with her and she has feelings for him but doesn’t acknowledge it because she doesn’t think she deserves to be loved which could be down to past trauma (it’s up to you) but then they confess their feelings inspired by the scene in the Honda Odyssey just without deadpool please it’s okay if not

Author’s note: I didn’t see the smut part until I went to post so that’s not part of the story. But I hope you like it!

She sat in the Honda Odyssey with a drink in her hand. She never really was one for drinking but times like these it was needed. Everyone was either inside planning the attack on Nova or by the fire drinking. She was in the car, alone in thought. Not realizing that she had someone that could never look away from her.

Someone that loved her and wanted to be with her even though she had fault in that. After losing Erik she never felt like she could be loved again or deserved it. But Logan adored her and wanted her forever. In his universe Y/N and Magneto were the happy couple that he let get killed. He always adored her but could never have her.

Now, she didn’t have Magneto in her life anymore and he wanted to be the one to fill the void. He could tell that she beat herself up over it and the blame was on her. Whatever happened between them, he would never believe that she was fully the one to blame. She deserved love and happiness, even if she couldn’t see it.

After his talk with Laura he walked over to the car that he knew she was in and got in the driver side. She looked over at him and saw a bottle of whiskey in his hand and smirked. He was definitely one for drinking. But she couldn’t blame him. “How did I know that you were in here?” He asked and she shrugged. “Despite what Wade says, I think the Honda Odyssey fucks hard.” She said and that made him chuckle.

Wade hated this car but Y/N liked it. “I also didn’t take you for drinking.” She smiled at him and held up the drink, “Cheers to that. I never was a drinker but after things go south it’s nice to have one.” He watched as she chugged the rest of her drink and held out her cup to fill it up. He gladly poured her another glass. “So about the fight earlier-” “Don’t mention it. He’s fine.” “I’m talking about you. Us.” She looked over at him, “What’s there to talk about? You’re right. I beat myself up over a guy that probably never gave a shit about me.” He felt guilt for saying that to her. “In my universe, you guys were married. Had kids even. You two were in love.” She rolled her eyes, “And let me guess we died?” He nodded and cleared his throat, “Yeah. It was awful. I constantly think back to that night and it haunts me.” “It was probably meant to be.” He looked at her, “What do you mean?” “I’m not meant to be happy in any universe.” He wanted to roll his eyes at her and her stupidity but he kept going, “No. That’s me. You sit here and act like nobody loves you and you’re alone but that is fair from the truth.” She looked at him as he finished off the bottle.

“Y/N, In my universe I was in love with you. I wanted you so bad but Erik beat me to it.” Her eyes widened in shock. His words repeating in her head. “The first second I met you I felt it all come back. Only this time Erik isn’t in the way. It’s you.” She chugged her drink before she could get out the words, “What?” It wasn’t a question of her asking him to repeat what he said or that she couldn’t hear him. She simply could not believe the words that left his mouth.

“Don’t act like nobody loves you and doesn’t care about you. I do! And I always will.” She stared at him with wide eyes. Sure, she had some feelings for him but she beat herself up after what happened with Erik. “You’re drunk.” She stated and he laughed. “Unbelievable. I pour my heart out to you and you tell me I’m drunk?” She didn’t know what to say to him at this time. “Y/N, Erik was a fucking idiot for not loving you and trying with you. You’re amazing and beautiful and only a dumb fuck like him wouldn’t see that.” Her eyes filled with tears, “You can’t mean that.” She whispers and he sighs, “Well I do. And if Wade wasn’t there earlier than maybe this would have come out sooner.” She turned away from him and sighed.

This couldn’t be real. There was no way he was telling the truth. Was he? She looked up at the top of the car, “The Magneto that Cassandra killed, that was mine.” He turned to look at her, “The TVA had got him before I could save him. I feel like the biggest fuck up about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t love me or wanted to be with me. It was never known but we had something special.

That’s why I was so nervous about coming here. I was so scared that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me and hated me but he’s dead. That’s worse than him hating me.” She was pouring her heart out to him. “I want to believe you, Logan. But I don’t know. After seeing you and you helping us I realized that maybe Erik wasn’t the one for me and that I could have another chance at happiness.”

“You can. I’m right here.” She turned to look at him to find that he was already looking at her. Maybe it was the heat of the moment but she really wanted to kiss him. As if he was Charles Xavier and could read her mind, he leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back and maybe it was the drink or the kiss but she felt herself calm down and realize that this was meant to be. “Erik wasn’t your fault sweetheart. You are not at fault for that. You deserve love and all the happy things in love.” She felt herself smile at his words. “Thank you, Logan.” she whispered and he smiled. “No problem, sweetheart.” He said before they locked lips again.

[featguler]

we don't talk about it ���───── you don't have the time — arda tries convincing you to come to his game.

♡ ────── pairing : arda güler x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. situationship!arda guler. reader speaks turkish n is speaking turkish with arda in this. angsty i guess??? i keep asking myself why i keep on giving him these stressful situationship scenarios omfg ♡ ────── wordcount : 715 ♡ ────── notes : more situationship arda i literally dc. also sorry for not posting in a while im tiiiired with work and my intern!! >:(( title is from august by flipturn!! ♡ masterlist.

“So you can’t come?”

Arda breathes into the mic, his eyes immediately fluttering close as he hears shrugging on your end, his phone trapped between his shoulders and his ears.

“Yeah.”

Arda tries imagining you right now. He tries imagining the expression on your face, he tries imagining what you are doing—swaying around, sitting down, biting your nails, rolling your eyes—and he lets his fantasies feed more into his imminent heartbreak.

He is in the changing room. Practice was rough that day, though he thinks that maybe it’s just him. Brahim seems to be having the time of his life, and Federico is somewhere talking to Antonio about the shenanigans that his kids, plural now that the youngest have turned one, have been up to lately.

And the room is far from quiet.

It’s alive—full of Eduardo chanting a Spanish song that Vinícius just taught him, full of Jude giggling as he texts his family group chat, and it’s full of Arda’s ailing heart beating against his ribs.

“Sorry,” you mumble to his speaker. Normally, Arda would find a way to voice his disappointment; he would click his tongue, he would thump his head against the wall, he would hang the call and scream into his mouth. But not right now.

“It’s in a week,” he tries negotiating, “not a week, even. 10 days. It’s in 10 days.”

The background noise increases—maybe he’s hallucinating—and Arda decides that he wouldn’t let anyone notice his distress.

No.

A part of him is embarrassed that he’s mulling so much over someone who he has been pining for for ages. He wonders if his older teammates, like Toni or Luka, know what a situationship is. His mother certainly does not. He asked her.

And sure there’s nuances and context in every relationship, but it somehow feels humiliating to explain to his teammates that he’s sad over someone who he is crushing on, but is technically going out with, but also not dating, yet is in a relationship with.

“I know, Arda,” he hears something shifting on your end. “It’s just that I promised my friend that we would go hang out.”

“You can hang out at the Bernabeu,” he encourages, still, his voice light despite the disappointment anchoring his chest. “I’ll get you the tickets.”

Arda opens one eye and watches the changing room, making sure that nobody is giving him their time of day.

“I asked you a few days ago,” he mutters quietly, rubbing the back of his neck rather harshly at the pent up frustration he’s developed every time he speaks to you. “I mean, I asked you first. It’s not fair.”

“Not fair?”

You echo him, and Arda lets out a rather long, extravagant sigh.

“Sorry.”

“We’re not—” you sigh. “Not fair? And whose fault do you think that is?”

Arda bites his lips, thinking over his words.

“Sorry.” He sighs again. “My fault. It’s my fault.”

“Right,” you huff into the speaker.

“Right,” he repeats, before uttering out a weak, “I miss you.”

You didn’t answer him for a moment, and Arda fears that he might have lost his hearing, but he eventually hears a breath.

“I miss you too.”

“I miss you more.”

A stupid smile etched on his lips—an idiotic, hopeful smile.

“Whatever.” He can basically see you roll your eyes. “I’m still not coming. I’m not coming to any of your games, you hear me?”

Until you make it official. He can basically hear you say.

He’s had this conversation a million times, and for some reason, it’s not enough push for him to commit to a relationship. He feels like if it were anyone else, he would not have much of an issue in putting a label on your relationship.

But it’s you.

And he has spent so long wanting you. What if you become his, and then you leave? You break up with him, leave him shattered? There is no breakup if there is no relationship in the first place—the senseless voice in his head keeps on whispering—there is no being left alone if he never decided to stay.

“Tell me if you change your mind.”

You huff to the phone again. “See you, Arda.”

He holds back an I love you, and laughs softly.

“I’ll see you around.”

[agendabymooner]

☏ LATE NIGHT TALKING, op81 voicemail blurb (18+)

☏ MOONY’S VOICEMAIL — a series in which formula one drivers send a voicemail to the reader. what about? prompts may vary. (maybe fluff or smut, idk)

voicemail summary: late at night, oscar sends a voicemail to his partner about missing them. it was a welcome voicemail, to say the least.

content warning: explicit language, smut (minors dni!), mentions of sexual acts, masturbation (m), dialogue heavy, blurb, dirty talking!oscar, my guy oscar is down bad

note: MY HANDS SLIPPED IM SORRY (i think about his voice a lot). did i just make this? yes. is it because i’m thinking about him? yes. this is probably going to be a one-off unless i feel like i should do more or if people like it lol

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

“hey baby. i- uh, it’s 11 pm here in qatar right now. i’m not sure if you saw the race but it was exhausting.” his breath shuddered. fabrics were torn off his body.

“it was a good sprint— i’m sure you saw that. you congratulated me.” he chuckled deeply. “but right now— it’s just extremely exhausting. qatar’s humid. the warmth is disgusting— i took shower more than i should’ve. but i did.”

“now i’m just here in bed and… yeah. i hope you’ve had a good day. i’m certain you did— it’s just uh… ah… i can’t go to sleep.”

“‘ve just been thinking about you,” oscar mumbled, “haven’t seen you for weeks— and not even our videos did any justice.”

“‘s like i need to talk to you in order to get off,” he chuckled, precum leaking out of his cock as he stroked his length with his right hand. “if this day wasn’t as languid you probably would’ve gotten up already— you’re always eager to see me fuck myself with my own hands. you know nobody can stroke me like you do.”

“i- ah,” he moaned quietly, “i’m just thinkin’ about your mouth and the way your tongue would lick at the tip— ‘m rubbing it like how you’d tease me. but i can’t help it.”

“i’d stroke it fast and hard now but all i seem to think about is you and how you’d tease me,” he grunted quietly. “wish it’s your mouth, baby. god~ i wish it’s you sucking my cock right now.”

“but i suppose i have to be patient huh,” he chuckled breathlessly. “good things come to those who wait~ or whatever the fuck they say.”

“but right now i’m just gonna think about you,” he uttered quietly. “i’m gonna think about how you whine and cry about your hole not getting fucked— then i’ll cum to the thought of you getting stuffed full by me.”

“for now, enjoy your day, hm? i’ll talk to you soon. i love you.”

— beep —

[stuckinapril]

how do you fall in love with yourself

unlearn the idea that confidence is conceit. i see this belief imposed on women especially, that if they’re very unapologetic about loving themselves it automatically means they’re narcissistic / think they’re better than everybody else. that’s not true at all. you can love yourself while also acknowledging you’re not inherently better than anyone else. you can love yourself while also being kind & supportive to others. it’s okay to be both of these things at once.

let go of the scarcity mindset. women (everyone really, but especially women) get pitted/compared against each other all the time. you see it w female celebrities in the media, but it’s very prevalent in real life as well. this is very much years of societal conditioning & both women & men partake in this behavior. ignore it. rest easy knowing that there can be multiple beautiful women, multiple smart women, multiple funny women in any environment at any given time. there is enough clout to go around; you don’t need to feel like if there’s another pretty/smart girl it means you no longer have the space to also be a pretty/smart girl. instead operate from an abundance mindset: always (alwaysss) be happy for other girls when they succeed, when they’re praised, when they’re loved, whatever. see them not as competition but as inspiration. envy is such a colossal waste of time bc nobody else’s accomplishments have any bearing on your own!!

get to know yourself more. i love the analogy of dating yourself bc it’s true. i went through a rough period of being around my ex 24/7 to the point i didn’t even know myself, and then i spent the post-breakup year hanging around everyone else constantly to numb my thoughts. now i’m spending more time alone than ever & i’m getting to know myself so much. learning about my taste in fashion, music, everything. and i’ve had so much more time to invest in hobbies & skills, which is very instrumental to building healthy self-esteem. ofc there’s a more balanced way to do this, but make sure you’re not running away from yourself!

what do you like outside of everybody’s opinion? don’t interpret this the wrong way—it’s completely fine to be inspired. every single person you know has copied someone else to an extent. but if you find yourself going too far, not trusting yourself to make the simplest decisions, just following trends blindly and nothing else, you’ve left the inspiration territory and started crossing into plagiarism. move from a place of self-direction and really think about what is naturally appealing to you. it doesn’t matter if it’s not popular or nobody else likes it. if you like it & if it makes you happy, that’s all you need.

practice self-love! i had to do this lol but it works wonders. i started intentionally telling myself that i trust my own taste, that i trust my own choices, that if i think something’s cool it’s good enough, talking to myself kindly etc etc. eventually all this stuff will become natural to you & you won’t find yourself having to expend so much energy into simply loving you for you. don’t give up even if it’s hard to believe at times.

don’t give a fuck. seriously. just don’t give a single flying fuck what someone else has to say. there will always be That One Person who tries to tear you down, belittles you, gaslights you etc etc and if you know in your heart you’re not doing anything wrong, just ignore and keep it pushing. you can’t be everyone’s favorite person (nor should you want to be). think of your favorite celebrity. anyone ever. they probably all got subjected to hate. now think of how they’re successful still & how it didn’t take anything away from them. there you go <3

if literally everyone on this planet starts hating you, loving yourself is still the antidote. to clarify, how others perceive us does hold weight. but if legit every single person i know started hating me, and i still loved myself, i’d probably still live a full life bc my perception is all that really matters in the end. i don’t need anyone else to be my #1 fan—i can do that myself just fine. it technically is actually your world & everyone else is just living in it. so enjoy that! stop giving a hard time to the one person who will always be w you through thick and thin (yourself). eat good food & watch good shows & read good books & just have fun. i love u

[allied-mastercuntputer]

unexpected.

after your planned date with tim takes an unexpected turn, you show him just how full of surprises you are…

word count: <500

warnings: not proof read…i kinda raw dogged this :p no use of y/n

notes: omg first thing of writing on here…im an autobiographical writer, haven’t touched fanfic since i was like 10. with that being said if i proof read it i won’t have the guts to post it. there will be better writing on my blog i promise. also super late for valentine’s day but it rained when i love the day of and no other day of the week n i thought it was funny.

“You told me you checked the weather Tim.”

You had called your boyfriend to let him know that a picnic wasn’t going to work. As soon as you woke up, the noise of rain pattered on your apartment’s roof, hitting you with the reality that being outside wasn’t an option.

“I did! Today is the first time this month it’s rained! But uhhhh should we do the Mary’s?” He tried to remedy the situation with the Italian restaurant in your university neighborhood.

“We go there all the time, can we do something special since it’s Valentine’s Day baby?” You smiled into the phone receiver. You knew he melted into man pudding when you called him baby and used that tone.

“Oh uhh-“ evidence of your work, “Anything you want. Maybe the rink and then hot chocolate after?”

“It’s a date.” You smiled, perfect time to show Tim what he didn’t know about you on the ice.

❅ ❅ ❅

Tim came to pick you up, you made sure to put on a raincoat. Not only to protect yourself from getting soaked, but also to reveal your outfit to your boyfriend in the car.

“Oh look at you, expecting to get some laps in?” He joked at the expense of your lululemon attire

“I like my pink define jacket, thank you very much”

“Hey! I like it too, definitely…tight. Hugs the right pla-“ You slap him on the shoulder, “Ow! Do you even know how to skate babe?”

This was your moment. Should you lie and wow him? Or should you tell the truth and loose your novelty? You lie.

“No actually, you’ll have to teach me.”

“That’s great actually, then you can’t let go of me-“ he smiled like an idiot before you interrupted him

“Don’t push it”

“Yes ma’am”

❅ ❅ ❅

You try not to be suspicious. ‘Act like you’re nervous, get shaky the first few minutes-‘

“Hey babe, need help with your skates?” Tim is an angel. As much as he likes to talk dirty, he genuinely cares and you always know it.

“Oh uhm, yes please”

“No problem.” he got on his knees and laced your skates up, “They need to be super tight, but not so tight you can’t bend your knees beyond a certain point.” Nobody could wipe the smile he had off his face. He was just happy to be teaching his girlfriend how to skate on Valentine’s Day.

“Thank you Tim. I feel like Cinderella, only my shoe has a sharp blade on it and my prince charming doesn’t know how to check the weather.” You giggle at his expense

“Im sure I’m a much better prince charming than whatever that guy had going on. Now stand up and see if it’s comfortable.”

“Perfect! Oh! I mean uhhh-“ You can’t let the jig be up, “Ouch super tight but I’ll be okay!”

Tim looks at you funny, but thought nothing if it, “Alright let’s go.”

❅ ❅ ❅

You can’t even stand it. You’ve been pretending to be awful at skating for almost 30 minutes. The real truth? You were on a figure skating scholarship just like how Tim was on a hockey one. You’d been skating since middle school and it had become a sport you loved deeply. You and Tim had been together for eight months, but the topic never really came up due to you thinking there were far more important things to your character.

“Can I try by myself?” your posture was awful, but it as about to be perfect in about 5 seconds

“Remember what I taught you about falling on your butt and not your face?”

It took so much not to roll your eyes, “Ill try not to fall because you like both of those things about me. think I’m okay.”

“Great! Let’s see you do 5 feet ahead. Go at any pace you want.”

You nodded, kissing him on the cheek. You immediately shifted into better posture, stopped shaking , and started skating at the pace you wanted, like he said. You begin with fluid crossovers, transitioning into quick footwork. With a push, you launch into a simple jump, landing with precision. You could feel the air whipping past your face as you gained speed. Your body twists and turns effortlessly, soon you’re skating circles around your boyfriend, who couldn’t do anything but look at you in shock. You stop right next to him.

“Was that okay?”

“Was that okay?? What are you doing studying here! People get injured all the time at the olympics I’m sure you could fill in and it would make no difference” He laughed in complete shock, “How long have you been skating for?

“More than 10 years”

“We should definitely take this to my place. You’ve won my heart. Not that you didn’t before I just- let’s go babe.”

“No I’m actually having so much fun!”

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 3)

Hello lovelies! I'm back with a third installment of my favorite Sterek fic recommendations!

Let me just say again, I am absolutely blown away by how many of you have liked these posts, but I am still so glad you're enjoying them! Thank you all, and without further ado, let's get into it.

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

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On a Chilly Night, Prayed for the Moon by violentcrumbles (E | 1/1 | 1,299)

Derek's hands are bloody, but Stiles' are clean.

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Freckle by starbolin (E | 1/1 | 1,645)

Nobody dies in this story.

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Turn Me On by risacooper (E | 1/1 | 3,021)

The air feels like it’s carrying the music with it, like a girl’s sweet voice is touching him along with the carefully encroaching press of someone’s fingertips at his back.

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I Just Can't Help Myself by breakaway71 (E | 1/1 | 3,187)

"Stiles," the demon says. In his head, her voice sounds soft and sleepy, like she's just woken from a long nap. "I'm bored."

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David Hale, Matchmaker by Menacherie (NR | 1/1 | 3,222)

Chris doesn’t know about the baby. In fact, Laura doesn’t even know until they’re safe in New York with their normal and safe aunt and uncle. Laura doesn’t tell him either. (It’s not until years later, when Derek sees David’s blue eyes staring back at him through Chris Argent, that he has an inkling of who the father is.)

Derek doesn’t say anything, but it’s ironic that Kate Argent burns down the house of her own unborn nephew.

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Legacy by scarletjedi (G | 1/1 | 3,339)

For Campbell men, family was everything.

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all you're giving me is friction by drunktuesdays (M | 1/1 | 4,707)

Stiles is Alpha bait.

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The Pretty Things (are going to hell) by FaeryQueen07 (E | 1/1 | 4,951)

“You have something of mine,” Stiles says, and he reaches for his hood, pushing it back to reveal the rest of his face. Lips curled up in a smile promising pain and eyes like death, he says, “And now I’m going to take it back.”

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nerves more by 1001cranes (E | 1/1 | 5,084)

Stiles only knows the boys are home from college when he sees the Camaro. It's a beautiful car, unusual - Laurent's car, but what's Laurent's is Derek's is Laurent's, rarely ever any distinctions - and Stiles is certain he sees it, idling in the corner of his vision when he talks to Scott, but when he turns around there isn't anything there. [Birthday gift for Saucery]

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the wing wherewith we fly to heaven by vlieger (T | 1/1 | 5,567)

based on this prompt at the kinkmeme: AU in which Stiles' mother had died because of Huntington's Disease.

When Stiles goes to get tested if the disease had been passed down to him, he asks Derek to go with him.

Up to you if the news are good or bad. And I'd love it if Derek and Stiles were pre-relationship.

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Tenfold by PunkPinkPower (G | 1/1 | 5,943)

In the end, it was Allison who made the final push to come home. They had all dropped hints when the war had ended. It was time to settle down and rest, Scott had said offhandedly. They needed a place to raise their pups, Jackson had argued. There weren’t any more great battles to fight, Stiles had insisted. They should honor at least some of their traditions, Lydia had reasoned.

But it was Allison who, one cool night in the Nevada desert, had said, “I think it’s time to go home.”

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More Wolf Than Boy by herlovewasajoke (E | 1/1 | 8,018)

Stiles always tries to protect the ones he loves, but sometimes he's the one who needs protection. (Or, in which Stiles is a werewolf and Derek didn't make him that way.)

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Do You Wanna Date My Avatar? by ChristyCorr (T | 1/1 | 8,904)

In hindsight, maybe introducing the local werewolf contingent to the wonderful world of online gaming hadn't exactly been Stiles' best idea.

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Break the Lock If It Don't Fit by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (E | 1/1 | 12,738)

"Do you know what just happened?" Peter asked, frowning. "Do you know what Derek did?"

"He dislocated my shoulder," Stiles snapped, but Peter just arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by that answer.

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Red Riding Hood series by purplecatsweater (2 works | E | 14,760)

1. Little Red Riding Hood (you sure are looking good) (E | 1/1 | 10,216) Stiles hangs out with werewolves. Stiles dresses up as Little Red Riding Hood for Halloween. It's supposed to be ironic. 2. Claiming Red (E | 1/1 | 4,544) Derek takes Stiles home.

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inside these arms series by rufflefeather (2 works | T | 17,917)

1. About Today (T | 1/1 | 8,901) Stiles is having the worst day of his life and it keeps happening. 2. Until Tomorrow (T | 1/1 | 9,016) Derek's worst nightmares didn't prepare him for this.

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And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi (E | 1/1 | 30,314)

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

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(Sacred) In the Ordinary by idyll (E | 9/9 | 78,759)

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing's gotten less complicated after all this time.

Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious.

Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles.

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Cornerstone by Vendelin (E | 6/6 | 83,738)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

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Home by TheTypewriterGirl (T | 18/18 | 167,178)

January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.

So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

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[chairofchaos]

You Deserve Better, and Other Points for Reflection

Hey friends, listen up. Real talk for a second, because nobody deserves this. And, in case anybody cares, I want you to know I come with 12 years of learning on this exact debate we have been having, because I had some very excellent fandom mentors in my communities and in the form of my uncles, who to this day support me writing and reading whatever hell I please, even in the face of protest from my immediate family. There was a lot of learning I had to do to be here with you now, and I am thankful for those people who were willing to tell me so.

If you want to post memes and think pieces and jokes and poems about a fandom debate, go ahead! You create the experience you want to see on your dash, and you will find your people.

If you want to discuss a fandom debate (a little or a lot), go ahead! I’m all for thinking through how we live and act and exist as a fan community.

If you feel that you need to take those things and turn them into vitriol to pour into the DMs and Anons of people who are running a fan week, that is not okay. Not in the slightest.

There is a big difference between debate, discussion, creative protest, and joking around, and intentionally using your words to create harm in someone’s life.

“But, Chaos, this [thing not directly sent to you/not specifically intended for you] hurt my feelings!”

Okay. Get burned once? Great! You learned something: don’t touch the hot iron again. (To translate: block the tag, block the person, whatever you need, and move on. If it isn’t for you that’s ok.) Hurt feelings are to tell you what you can and/or are willing to handle. If you don’t want to see it, block. (I love blocking tags it’s one of my little joys in life lol)

“Chaos, somebody said something really rude to me to my (virtual) face! What do I do?”

Well, you can either respond or you can block. Either way, it will probably help you to move on.

If you are responding, I beg you to keep one thing in mind. I want you to picture 7 year old you at the other end of that message. Or 13 year old you. What kind of words did they deserve to hear in a moment when maybe they weren’t getting something? Use those. Use them kindly, not in a condescending way, but in a “I want to explain this as gently as I would to my younger self” kind of way. If somebody keeps being mean, it isn’t worth it. Please use the block feature and move on. They are not worth your time.

Additionally, I would encourage you to do this: the “touch grass” mentality is something I only direct at myself. (I literally told myself to go touch grass yesterday, and there is at least one person who can corroborate that.) I stand by that decision every single day. It’s kept me out of a lot of trouble. Directing it at others does not end well, but directing it at yourself can be a good way to reflect and to consider sensible actions in the face of overwhelming situations or emotions (of which I experience many).

“Chaos, people are coming into anon and being hateful. Or just rude. Or they’re dumping triggering material into my anons.”

That is on them. That is not on you. They should not do that. And I am so sorry you are dealing with that. I’m going to be honest, I don’t know if you can block from anons (I’ve never even needed to look and so help you all if this is the post that makes me) but if you can, do. I will do what I can to help, if you need it. Regardless of where you stand on any of these issues, because I will not stand for hatred.

“I’m mad about [redacted] and I am going to be rude/mean/intentionally putting triggering material in people’s inboxes and activity feeds!”

You do that and you will be in a world of hurt, my friend. A world of hurt from yourself.

Because we create the experience we think we deserve. If you create an internet experience where it is acceptable to be hateful, vengeful, and downright cruel to other people, that is the experience you will receive in return. You deserve better than that. And if you believe that you deserve better than that but the people you’re directing cruelty towards don’t, then I want you to hear me: you will quickly find that you are not welcome anywhere. There will always be someone to disagree with. There will always be (at least) minute discrepancies in the way two or more people think, even people who are deeply similar.

Hurt the hand that reaches to help you- one day it will be raised against you in hurt as well.

As for me? Well, for that, I leave you with thoughts from George Washington’s Farewell address as paraphrased in Hamilton’s ‘One Last Time’:

“Though, in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of intentional error, I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects not to think it probable that I may have committed many errors.”

I am not a president (and thank god for that because who wants Chaos in charge of a country?). I am simply a fandom member. A writer. A little chaos gremlin lurking behind trees in the forest.

But like Mr. Washington, I am aware that I often fail to live up to my standards and principles. And I hope, truly, though it is wildly uncomfortable for me, that you would call me out for ways I have failed to uphold them, either in the past or in the future. (It would be super great if you like… called me out in DMs and didn’t put me on blast but oh well.)

I am in at least four other major (international, GIANT) fandoms. I am not hopeful enough to think that the ACOTAR fandom will learn from the fandoms of yore. We will have to weather these storms on our own, even with the knowledge and experiences already there. I think that’s okay. Disappointing, perhaps, but okay.

Since this post was much longer than it was intended to be, I will summarize:

If you are intentionally putting hateful materials in the inboxes, DMs, and activity feeds of people you disagree with, you will hurt yourself.

You create the experience you think you deserve, and in doing so, create that experience for others. Good or bad.

Block tags, block blogs, block what you need to enjoy the space. You will find your people.

Being intentionally cruel to other human persons is how you end up finding that nobody is “your people” because you created an environment where no one wants to be. You will be lonely and sad. Don’t make yourself lonely and sad.

I am certain I fail to uphold these principles at times. Feel free to call me out if you see me failing at these. DM appreciated, but I’m the one who invited you to do so so I’m not going to say “don’t blast me on main.” My funeral, I know.

[starfacenix]

The trouble with seeing and hearing your deities.

[Just to immediately preface, I do not see or hear my deities in the literal sense. I see and hear them the same way I can hear my internal monologue and how if I have my eyes open and you tell me to picture a red or green apple, I can.]

For a little while, I thought I was going completely batshit. Like I was ready to check myself into a psych ward batshit. For a good 2 or so weeks, I was very comfortable with just getting a word or two from my gods when using divination, it was like a little treat. But as time progressed and I spent more time around them, I began to hear more and more of their words, and then my brain started to make their appearance.

That’s when I started to have a very scary moment of, “oh no, I’m going crazy.” Or something along the lines of spiritual psychosis. But I didn’t really fit any of the symptoms at all.

[I will say a medication I was on made my paranoia surrounding it worse tho lol]

Asking the gods about it didn’t necessarily help since they just assured me I wasn’t crazy.

Well, I must be, no?

Of course not. lol.

Looking into other people’s experiences with talking with their deities was very eye opening. But it made me wonder about all the unique ways I’ve seen people interacting with their deities, or the ways in which they’ll make themselves known to their devotees. I personally still use a pendulum even though I’ll catch the rest of their sentence before they finish speaking it completely. I call it my safety blanket.

They hate my safety blanket.

I oh so carefully monitor the words they say and what truly makes sense and what doesn’t. What sounds realistic and what absolutely doesn’t. Keeping yourself grounded in reality(you know what I mean) is so so important. I honestly don’t find it to be a bad idea to look up the symptoms of spiritual psychosis and delusions in general if you’re also in the same boat as me, hearing and seeing your gods.

It’s scary, jarring, and it makes you question yourself a lot. So many people are so confident in their abilities already and it’s just like, “oh yeah I hear and see them.”

Like.. okay, but how the fuck does that work for you?

I’m young, I’m new to this, I have no older mentor or friend that’s been in the religion for years to lean on that’s not a god. The fuck should I do?

Sure, you don’t have to say anything about how that works in your head, but I think it’d be nice to. Nobody is obligated to share anything about their worship or practice, yet sharing important disclaimers regarding these “gifts” or senses—whatever you want to call them— I think should be talked about a little more.

I gradually got to this point over the past two months, hearing more and more of them as I spent more time in my practice.

And if anyone wants, I could make a separate post in how I deal with severe intrusive thoughts and this hearing shit. It’s really stressful most times. And not fun.

But wowwwww it’s been weird seeing how they present themselves hahahaha that’s a whole separate post.

In conclusion though, I’m carefully monitoring myself, what I experience, and the new meds I’m going on, and coming off. It’s been a really weird 2 months, but I’m excited for the future anyway.

[xoluvx]

everyone here is acting like they’ve never seen a blurry thigh pic and they talk like children as well as you 😭 you don’t owe anyone anything but why not put your age if you’re not a child? i’m done with people acting like their age is something to be secretive about when they’re posting content like this like grow up! yall get so butt hurt over the truth like how am i not supposed to think you’re a child

it’s the fact that you sat down and wrote this entire thing for me to just tell you to fuck off 🤭 like what exactly do you want me to do with this information? “i don’t owe you anything” .. it really is that simple babe, but maybe i should use my big girl brain and give you a proper response since you’re so desperate for it.

why are we upset that i’m not sharing my age? as far as i know, the only way i could “prove” i’m an adult is by posting my ID. let’s be so fucking for real right now. if you were so concerned about me being a minor posting inappropriate things, you wouldn’t have come at me crazy. think about it.. why would you talk to a minor with that type of entitlement? let me reiterate.. nobody owes you anything. seems like you got “butt hurt” by my response and are spiraling. furthermore, i can pick out a handful of blogs - if not more - that do not disclose their age and are doing crazier shit than i am. but hey, did i mention this is my blog and i can do whatever i want? yeah. there’s that.

you say were scrolling through my page “wondering if my age was anywhere”.. that’s a very peculiar reason to scroll through someone’s blog, don't you think? are you sure you weren’t fangirling at first? i digress.

what exactly did i do “for a reason”? answer your ask with attitude? um yeah.. i absolutely did babe. i may be sweet, but i'm not a pushover and i will defend myself if i need to. come on, we gotta start using our brains!! it seems the only one “butt hurt” here is you. again, i’m so sorry that people seem to agree with me or at the very least, like me enough to engage with my content.

grateful for the scroll? baby, please don’t flatter yourself. i am grateful for my 6k followers though 😘

bonus: this is me actually being petty and going there.. *you’re probably not someone to talk about age and/or how someone speaks when you can’t tell the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’. anyway ..

if you’re still not convinced, just keep reading love.

omg look a legal adult drinking and showing skin!!! blasphemy.

i’m not a child.. so yeah thanks for the (fake) concern. you may kindly fuck off now 💖

[story-book-sillies]

Btw the best thing you can do when you’re feeling sad is let yourself be sad.

I’ve been having a really hard time lately. I’ve been in and out of depressive episodes, feeling unloved and unwanted, having negative thoughts about by body/appearance, my anxiety is through the roof, and all around I’m just struggling mentally and emotionally. I have no time nor space to regress, and when I do, it’s involuntary which is scary because I’m a secret regressor. But one thing that has helped me immensely is allowing myself to be present through my emotions and just let myself be sad.

Being sad isn’t a bad thing. You are allowed to be upset. You’re allowed not to feel happy all the time because it’s human. I know there’s countless other posts like this one that talk about this but it’s true. And especially for regressors like me because regression isn’t always happy regardless of the stereotypes.

I grew up being told “don’t let your emotions get the better of you,” and “don’t be so emotional, it’s not something to cry about,” and yeah, there might be some truth to that. But like, you’re allowed to be sad about something even if the people around you don’t understand why it’s making you sad. Because it’s your sadness.

And if you feel like you’re in a place where it’s not safe to cry (the people around you shaming you for it for example) then release your emotions in a safe place. I cried in the shower today which was my very first time doing that, but as cliche as it sounds, it was so freeing. Because nobody could hear me and I could cry for as long as I needed to. I’ve also cried before bed. Pillows are a great way to muffle cries and dry your tears. If you can’t cry at home, go somewhere outside where you know you won’t be interrupted or bothered. Whatever works for you.

Just cry if you need to. Be sad if that’s what you’re feeling. And then pick yourself up when you’re ready. I promise that feeling your emotions and responding to them doesn’t make you bad or shameful. 🩵

[savagewildnerness]

Quick, daft improvise to this wee scene today… so I did. I don’t like it so I’m not gonna listen, I’m just gonna post!!!!

I am SO excited to watch Nicolas in full! I can’t articulate it completely. But I’ll say it’s exciting to me both for what I know in my bones of Nicolas AND for what I don’t know!

I started playing violin aged 8: just free lessons in school (I never had a proper, paid for, private violin lesson in my life. Not even one.) then piano aged 12 - so OLD to begin (& incidentally around when I read The Vampire Lestat.)

I danced from before I was 3 years old & through that, always loved music. But I also always knew I was *too old* when I started playing instruments (coupled with my free lessons & nobody in my family being musical… & my own extreme quietness & lack of self confidence… & knowing other children, both objectively better than me & more popular as humans than me & who perceived themselves therefore as incredibly superior to me) to ever be a musician.

I can’t even explain in words how I, even aged 12 related to Nicki’s sense of what can & will never be. It made me feel impossibly ancient. I can tell you that I refused to learn how to ride a bike, even though my Dad was an excellent cyclist aged FIVE as I knew a friend who could already ride a bike at 5, thus was convinced I was *too old* to add to the essence of my self. But I imagine, if you are not me it may seem slightly silly?

Aged 12, I likely didn’t understand the full depth of Nicolas’ cynicism. And, as, even now, an idealist who related to Nicki so deeply in some ways, I do feel there’s a part of me unable to fully comprehend Nicolas beyond how my 12-year-old-self resonated with him. I can’t fully imagine the depth of Nicolas’s existential despair & cynicism as I personally relate to his self so deeply in some ways, yet the idealism in my nature dampens my personal existential despair. But I do despair now…

Anyway; that makes me even more excited to experience Nicki on TV, brought into reality! Because I do not know or understand him fully… yet! But I see Joseph Potter’s acting & I feel the feeling in it & so I know that Nicolas, and how meaningful he is to me shall be deepened. What joy. 🥰🎼🎻

To extend the why of why I relate to Nicolas - My piano teacher went into semi-retirement when I was 13 & cut back on most pupils. I was obviously still a beginner, having only just started playing at 12... so she was going to cut me & told my Mum so. Then I had that week’s piano lesson with her & something about the musicality or emotion in how I played my simple stuff that week meant she told my Mum she simply couldn’t stop teaching me. So I kept having lessons with her till I left school at 18.

I do not consider myself a musician at all. I’m not good enough. But some people felt *some thing* from how I played even as a teen: another way I related to Nicolas! And I knew my failings & all I’d never be, like Nicki knows. And I know how that feels.

Lestat talks of beauty & emotion in Nicolas’ playing. But when you personally know your playing is technically lacking, a compliment is lovely, of course. But Nicolas & I both know the truth: that we are lesser and not-enough and failures.

For me though, never fear - that I know my limitations is a huge part of why I share music here! I want everyone to feel they can create. Not necessarily music, but whatever they feel - to transform it in whatever way to some thing.

And the errors & imperfections don’t matter. The act of creating is being alive 🥰.

[milkywaygalaxygurl]

Training Wheels - Coriolanus Snow

Hello everyone! First fic I'm posting in years and it's about the.. lovely? Coriolanus Snow! He will be very OOC in this fic because I struggle with writing dark characters so I apologize for that lol but I hope you guys enjoy!

Pairing: OOC!Coriolanus Snow x Female!Reader

Warnings: slight angst?, Coriolanus Snow (yes he deserves a warning even tho he’s nice in this fic lol), everything in BOSAS didn’t happen (sorry not sorry lol), slight hinting towards reader’s mother being mean?, reader gets hurt in a flashback, umm if i missed anything lmk!

Word Count: 1.4k

Inspired by Training Wheels by Melanie Martinez! Reader and Coriolanus have been friends since they were young and have had a “Will they/Won't they?” relationship since they were young teenagers. Everyone knows they’re madly in love with each other and at times it seems they know it too, but nothing ever comes of it. They’ve gone on dates and shared kisses, but have never gone further than that. Reader is tired of the dynamic they’ve built, but Coriolanus wants to continue doing what they’ve been doing for years.

I explode, I explode

Askin' you where you want us to go

This wasn’t the first time you had gotten frustrated with Coriolanus about your relationship, or lack thereof, after he had kissed you. When whatever this was had started you kept your mouth clamped shut about your frustrations, but now that it had been going on for years you couldn’t keep yourself from getting upset with your best friend.

“Where exactly do you plan on this going, Coryo? You kiss me and take me on dates sometimes, but other times I’m just your best friend! We’ve been doing this since we were fifteen!” You are seated on his bed while he paces the room, running his hands through his hair in a frustrated manner. He had very quickly pulled himself away from you the second you had decided to bring up the subject he seems to hate.

“I don’t know, (Y/N). Can’t you just be happy with this?” Coriolanus looks up at you as you scoff, shaking your head.

It's not like I'm askin' to be your wife

I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say

Is this comin' off in a cheesy way?

“I was fine with it when I was fifteen because at least you were giving me something, but we’re eighteen now! I should be building a relationship with someone, but instead I’m stuck doing this back and forth with you!” You try not to sound harsh, to sound mean, but everything about this whole situation was frustrating you. Coriolanus stays silent, but he stops pacing to stare down at his feet.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Coryo! I just want to know what you want to do, we can’t keep wasting each other’s time doing this!” You gesture between you two wildly, your hand dropping when he looks up at you. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again before a sound comes out.

“I just.. I just want to be yours, Coriolanus. Is that too much to ask? I know this is cheesy and cliche, but..” You trail off, trying to find the words to perfectly describe how you feel. This was the first time you had ever stated that you want to be his, you had always managed to tiptoe around the statement despite making it obvious what you wanted whenever you spoke your frustrations.

I love everything you do

When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do

“I’ve been in love with you since I was fourteen. I think it was longer, but I didn’t realize it until you yelled at me that one time for being stupid and getting myself hurt.” You chuckle, looking down at your hands in your lap.

Nobody had expected you to actually do it when Arachne dared you, but you were young and desperate to prove yourself to your peers. Normally Coriolanus would have been there and put an end to the situation immediately, but he had been caught up talking to a teacher today. As a result, you found yourself climbing up one of the pillars of The Academy building. You were actually doing good, you had managed to find a way to pull yourself up the round pillar and made it about halfway up before you heard Coriolanus’ voice.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?!” He called up to you, his tone worried and frustrated. It made you jump and lose your grip on the pillar, sending you flying towards the ground. Everyone laughs when you smack the ground, but Coriolanus jumps forward to help you while telling the others to make themselves scarce. Your satchel had cushioned the fall, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. You thankfully had landed in a way that you didn’t hit your head, but your tailbone took the brunt of the landing. Coriolanus knew it hurt from the way tears slid down your cheeks, he hadn’t seen you cry from getting hurt since you guys were eight years old.

“What were you thinking, (Y/N)?! How dumb can you be?!” Coriolanus voice was harsh, but his hands were gentle as he checked your legs and hands for scrapes. When he was sure you didn’t have any life threatening injuries, he sighed in relief and carefully pulled you into his lap.

“It hurts so bad!” You sob, latching on to Coriolanus. He shushes you, rubbing your back and rocking you as if you were a child. He had learned to comfort you when you guys were young, doing his best to emulate the way his mother had comforted him when she was still alive. He had witnessed the way your mother pushed you away every single time you sought comfort and decided he’d do his best to be there whenever you needed it.

“I realized that nobody had ever cared about me like that, you were the only person in my life to immediately come to me when I was hurt. Even when you called me dumb, you were still gentle with me and made sure I was alright. After that, I began to fall in love with all the things you did.” You smile at Coriolanus, looking up from your hands so you could see his face. His expression had softened, his lips upturned in a small smile. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks softly, moving to sit next to you on the bed.

“I think that was the moment I realized I loved you way more than a friend should.” Your breath catches in your throat at his words, it feels as if your whole body just malfunctioned if you’re being completely honest. He reaches for your hand and you quickly return the favor, entwining your fingers.

“I wanted to keep doing what we’ve been doing because I’m scared if we make it official, there might come a day where it ends and I lose you. I wouldn’t know what to do without you, you’re the only person besides Tigris and Grandma’am who I’ve let know the real me.” His other hand comes up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes flitting across your features. You smile softly at him, taking your hand out of his to cup his face.

“You could never lose me, Coryo. I love you too much to not be in your life, even if we do make it official and it happens to end I could never just stop being apart of your life. Which, by the way, I very much doubt we would break up because we’ve loved each other for this long without any problems.” You giggle and Coriolanus chuckles, shaking his head. You run your thumbs across his cheeks, trying to convey all the love you can into that simple gesture. He reaches up to hold one of your wrists, rubbing the back of your hand softly as he closes his eyes to bask in the moment.

After a moment, he takes your hands from his face and holds them tightly in his own. “I’m sorry I’ve made you wait so long for this, but at least I’m asking now.” You both laugh and tears spring to your eyes from excitement. You felt silly crying over this, but you’d always been one to cry whenever you were happy.

“Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?” Coriolanus barely gets the words out before you’re tackling him in a tight hug, causing him to fall back on his bed. You both shake with laughter and Coriolanus wraps his arms around you, kissing the side of your head.

“I take that as a yes?” He chuckles and you pull back, smiling brightly. Coriolanus takes a moment to study your features, a lovesick look in his eyes and a small blush adorning his cheeks. The look on your face mirrors his, your lips split into a wide smile and your eyes so full of love.

“I would love to be your girlfriend, Coryo.” Just as you finish speaking he’s pulling you down into a kiss. The kiss is different than any other kiss you’ve ever shared, all the unspoken love and affection built up over the years spilling into it.

“Finally, you two! I thought I was going to be Grandma’am’s age by the time you two confessed!” Tigris’ voice from the doorway causes you two to separate, all three of you falling into a fit of giggles.