#man i cant believe i spent time writing this

[stellarsightz]

What would you wish for, if you had one chance?

RAHHH it is finally done!! Here's an art collab i did with the lovely and super cool @abstractredd <3

had a lot of fun with this one. hope our fellow hadlof enjoyers like it too :3c

(once again, i am so sorry redd for going crazy on the background like that 😭 )

[nomairuins]

thank GODDD the doctor is taking time to work on himself maybe now he can stop ruining womens lives .

[lunarmoves]

who i see, looking back at me (ch1)

pairing: sebastian solace x reader

mentions: post-urbanshade fic, no use of y/n or pronouns, u are his partner <3, hallucinations, grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, ooc sebastian probably, i took creative liberties with his mom and siblings, check masterlist for fic summary

a/n: this is something i decided to write after scouring ao3 and tumblr for anything like it and finding nothing. i was just- (thanos voice) "fine i'll do it myself." hope you guys enjoy! i cant believe im simping for a roblox fish man in the year 2024, literally who am i.

word count: 9.5k+

masterlist

ao3 link

When your husband was executed for a crime he did not commit, you decided to move out to the seaside. 

It was a way to just… get away from everything. Start fresh. His face was plastered all over the news after his death sentence. Everywhere you went, it felt as though people were staring at you. Judging you. Hushed whispers followed you just as much as the haunted look on Sebastian’s face when he’d taken his mugshot. It was—unbearable. You needed to get out and away from all the people who only saw you as the partner to a murderer.

His presence lingered everywhere, back at your tiny apartment in the city. From the framed pictures on the wall, to the green toothbrush next to yours, and the faint smell of cinnamon attached to your bedsheets. It was—overwhelming, in more ways than one. You itched and itched with the urge to get out. You stayed only as long as you needed to after his death to go through the process of moving out. It took a couple of weeks. The you from the future would applaud you for lasting longer than a few days, you were certain. 

You didn’t know what to do with all of his things. You sold his expensive belongings unclaimed by his family, like his laptop, electric guitar, and gaming system. The more materialistic items were packed into bins to donate to charity—his old textbooks, binders of sheet music, clothes he seldom wore. The rest you separated into two boxes. One had some things you figured would be appreciated by his mother. The album of his family he kept tucked away in his desk. A small teddy bear he’d had since he was a toddler. Some of his favorite shirts and jewelry he’d been gifted from his siblings. 

The other had things you could not bring yourself to part with. 

You spent a while hovered over that box, tracing the worn edges of a red and black flannel that he always wore around your apartment. There was a small panda plushie that you won at an amusement park on one of your dates and decided to give to him when he said it was ugly-looking. A sketchbook he doodled in from time to time that you didn’t have the heart to open, but knew you would regret giving away. A crumpled piece of paper with hastily scribbled vows on them. Each and every item in the box held some amount of sentimental value—you wondered if it would ever haunt you, keeping them. Part of you already knew the answer.

When you dropped off Sebastian’s things at his mother’s house, you couldn’t help the way your heart sank deep into your chest when she opened the door. Maria was a beautiful woman, and you saw traces of Sebastian in her every time you saw her. The warm honey of her skin, the crinkle of her blue eyes, even the way she smiled. It made your eyes sting and ache with something fierce. Agonizing, even now. Especially now.

She looked at you with a sad smile, gratefully accepting the small box you offered her. “Gracias, sweetie,” she said, hands tightening on the edges of the cardboard. “I appreciate you coming out all this way.” 

“It was no problem,” you told her, shifting slightly on your feet. You hadn’t seen her since—well… You cleared your throat, doing your best to ignore a pang of guilt and this ever so tightening feeling in your chest. “How are you doing?” 

She hummed, a weary thing that matched the dark circles under her eyes and the new streaks of gray in her hair. She looked down at the box. “No muy bien,” she murmured, “but who would after losing a child so wrongfully? I can only hope it gets better to handle with time.” Her gaze lifted up to meet your own. “What about you, hm? Almost done packing?” 

Blue eyes the same shade as his. You looked away, staring down at your shoes and her slippered feet. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “Just gotta put a few more boxes into the car.”

“I do not blame you for wanting to get away,” she chuckled. “I would too, if I could.”

As though on cue, there was the sound of a crash somewhere behind her, immediately followed by raised voices. Sebastian’s siblings causing havoc, no doubt. Maria whipped around to shout into her house. “Isidora! Lucas! ¡Comportense!” After she got two distant apologies, she turned back to give you a look. “See what I mean?”

You could only manage a stiff nod, not quite trusting your voice. That feeling in your chest was growing by the second, and you were not sure how long you would last. Maria didn’t deserve this, but you couldn’t help it. You felt like you were being stifled under a large, unforgiving pillow.

You could feel the way she watched you—that same probing stare that Sebastian often wore when he could sense you weren’t feeling well. You continued to stare resolutely at the ground, not wanting her to crack you open like a book to see the way you just couldn’t stand being here right now. She sighed, and you had to suppress a wince.

“Well, don’t let me keep you,” she finally said, turning slightly to head back inside. “No eres una desconocida, you hear? You are always welcome here.” 

“Right,” you whispered, and when you finally managed to pull your gaze back up to her face, she only gave you a small, melancholy smile before gently closing the door. You stood there for a moment more, heart beating in your throat as you cursed yourself for being a coward.

The drive down to the seaside was only a few hours. It was relaxing, in its own way, as you passed by concrete buildings that slowly melted away into wide, open fields. Rolling hills and staggering cliffs. You could almost taste the change in the air the closer you got. The stale, musty scent of the city was replaced by a fresh, salty breeze. If you listened close enough, you could hear the distant roar of the ocean as its waves crashed against rock. And once you arrived at what would be your new home for a long, long time, you took a moment to just stand outside and breathe. 

One breath in, one breath out. The seaside air felt cool on your heated face. Out here, you felt like everything could be put behind you. A breath of fresh air to chase away the way you hurt inside. You could finally shed the layer of muddled emotions and thoughts that had surrounded you for weeks. 

If only it was that easy. Still… Baby steps, you reminded yourself.

The cottage you were moving into was a quaint thing, with just enough space for you to live comfortably on your own. It was more than a steal, and you were thankful that you’d managed to snatch it up before anyone else could—and at a reasonable price, too. It sat near the top of a small cove, overlooking miles and miles of open water. If you walked down to the shore—away from the cove—there was a small dock that jutted out into the sea like a pirate’s plank. It was old, though, covered in mold and made of rotting wood that creaked ominously in the breeze. You didn’t dare risk venturing out on it. 

It took you most of the rest of the day to bring all your belongings inside and unpack everything. You stood in what would be your living room, a mess of boxes scattered all around you, and felt a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t make heads nor tails of. Your eyes landed on that small box of Sebastian’s things, and you turned away with this twisting sensation worsening in your gut. 

Getting properly settled in and starting your new job in the nearby town’s clinic took up most of your time. Your energy and thoughts. But at night, when it was just you laying in a too small bed in a too small room, your mind wandered. The moon peering through the small, curtained window into your bedroom bore witness to the way you stared and stared and stared—unblinking at the popcorn texture of the ceiling. Always twisting the gold band that remained on your finger in absentmindedness. 

There was a gnawing ache in your chest that waxed and waned, but it never truly disappeared.

You thought about those final days a lot. They didn’t let you see him. All you got was a single phone call, sometime before his scheduled execution. The contents of that call would follow you no matter how far you tried to run from them. How hard you tried to forget. 

(The phone felt locked in your grip—your fingers tight and stiff. There was a silence that was broken by your name spoken on the tailend of a choked breath. Your teeth clenched so hard you felt a muscle spasm in your jaw.

“I-I didn’t—” Sebastian’s voice stuttered thickly, hushed into the microphone. Something sank down to the soles of your feet, then continued on in an endless spiral. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t.” 

There was something so devastatingly helpless about talking to him like this. Divided across miles and miles, nothing but a thin connection between you and him. Your words his only comfort.

“I know, baby,” you told him miserably, raising a hand to palm at your wet eyes. “I know.”) 

You couldn’t even host a proper funeral for him. His body was never released to his family—for what reason, you were unsure. It felt as though you never had any proper closure. You could scream and cry about the injustice of it all, but… no one would listen. It was done. It was over. There was no getting him back. It was a grim thought that you grappled with on the daily, always present at the back of your mind. At the front of your mind. Suffocated you in gallons and gallons of grief. You did your best to work through it all over time, but sometimes it felt like your best just wasn’t enough.

And then… a couple of years after his death… you got a call. 

You were lounging around in your little living room after a long shift at work, a book splayed out on your lap as you relaxed. Your phone was sitting right by your legs, just out of sight. So when it buzzed with an incoming call, you did not bother to glance at the screen before you answered it.

It was Maria.

The tremble of her voice made you instantly freeze. 

You couldn’t understand what she was saying—so rushed and stifled through choked sobs. You sat up, both your hands gripping at your phone. 

“Maria— wh-what—” you stuttered out, a sinking feeling slowly making itself present in your gut. You stood up, barely registering your book falling off your lap and onto the floor. “What’s—” 

“They— they were wrong,” she hiccuped out, breathless and hysterical. “We knew they were and they— they—” 

“What are you—” You tried to make sense of her words, but she quickly dissolved into more incoherent crying. You swallowed thickly, a cold sweat erupting along your back.

It took you a few minutes to calm her down enough so that she could strangle out a “Check the news.” Your eyes snapped to the darkened television sitting against the wall across from you.

Your throat felt drier than a desert. The remote was wedged between the cushions on your couch, and you fumbled around for it before finally managing to press the power button. Channel twenty-one, the news. You punched it into the remote. 

There was a picture of Sebastian on the screen. His mugshot, actually—black hair messily scattered across honeyed skin, dark eyes that glistened in the dim lighting, thin lips downturned into an unsteady frown. A ringing sound erupted deep within your ears, drowning out all else as your gaze narrowed in on the bold headline. 

Innocent man wrongfully convicted for murder of nine. 

A short, disbelieving laugh escaped from your lips. This was how you found out? They didn’t bother to contact you first? You almost couldn’t believe it. Two years after he’d already been imprisoned. Two years after they’d decided he should die via electric chair. You laughed again, and your phone slipped right from your fingers as you dropped onto your knees. You barely felt the impact—barely heard Maria’s questioning sniffle above the racing of your heart.

You laughed and you laughed and you laughed and you laughed because wasn’t that just the funniest fucking thing? They found out the truth after what had been done to him could never be taken back. After you and his family had fought so desperately to prove his innocence. 

Funny! It was funny!

You bit at your bottom lip to suppress the way it violently quivered. 

Years passed and you continued to live on without Sebastian.

You thought time would help you heal—would dull the ache you experienced at every waking moment of the day and night. But there were times where you just felt infinitely worse. It was awful. It was so utterly miserable, and you were tired. You were just… tired. You couldn’t think about him for too long before you’d feel that familiar sting to your eyes. So you tried not to think about him at all. 

It didn’t work. 

You were plagued by him. Awake or asleep—it did not matter. 

“You’re still up,” he murmured into your ear at night as you laid curled up on your side. Like this, you could face the window of your room—where the moonlight filtered gently through your thin curtains to brush against the walls like the hand of a ghost.

You hummed in response, face partially buried in your pillow. You tried in vain to ignore the presence you felt at your back. Making the hairs prickle on your nape. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel light breaths against the side of your face. 

“You’ve got work in a few hours, you know,” he said, matter-of-fact. His voice lowered, gentle and calm. “What’s bothering you?” 

There was a pause. Distantly, you could hear the waves of the ocean as the tide rose and fell along the shore. A constant source of white noise. 

“Nothing,” you eventually whispered back, closing your eyes momentarily to breathe in the faint smell of cinnamon. “Nothing at all.”

It wasn’t real, you told yourself. Over and over and over again. He wasn’t real. He wasn’t.

He didn’t stop there. 

He sat across from you at your little dining table in the kitchen, grinning at you as you forked spoonfuls of pitiful dinner after dinner into your mouth. He was in the bathroom, sitting on the lid of the toilet as you showered or brushed your teeth. He was in the living room, sprawled across the floor in front of you as he gazed at you with his face propped atop his palm. 

He accompanied you to work, a pair of blue eyes staring at you in the rearview mirror of your car as you drove. He lingered over your shoulder as you pushed paperwork or chatted to other nurses. Close enough to touch, yet never crossing that line. Always present. Sometimes silent, sometimes not. You weren’t sure which was better.

He was haunting you, and you could do nothing about it. 

The only place where you seemed to have any kind of reprieve was down by the little cove or the shore. You liked taking walks along it—when the walls of your cottage seemed to loom too close for comfort. It was refreshing, being able to just… breathe in the sea air and take in the rolling waves from the sand. A healing balm for your enervated soul. It became a habit no matter the weather, every evening after work. Soaking in the sun, basking in the mist, watching dark clouds grow closer on the horizon. You were oftentimes alone, but occasionally you’d pass a few people also enjoying the fresh air. They never bothered you, so you never bothered them. 

Once you returned home, however, he would be waiting for you at the door—all warm smiles and crinkled eyes that made your insides ache like they never have before.

You contemplated going to grief counseling many times. But something held you back. You just… didn’t have the energy to pick yourself up and go. Didn’t want to come to proper terms with it all, you supposed. Or maybe you were desperately holding on—afraid of letting go completely when you could look in a mirror and see him standing somewhere behind you. It hurt. It soothed. It was a push and pull that you learned to deal with as time went on. 

You often caught yourself staring at the tiny closet in your room—where you’d buried that small box of Sebastian’s things so deeply, it would never see the light of day again. Most of the time, you could drag yourself away from it, pushing it to the back of your mind once more. But one night… you couldn’t help yourself. You caved. You just… needed to.

You pulled the box out from the depths of your closet and sat on the floor, eyeing it warily as you clutched a pair of scissors in your hand. It was just as you’d left it—flaps tightly sealed with packing tape. You hadn’t bothered to label it. You knew what was in there and that was enough. 

You took in a deep breath and stabbed the point of the scissors into the box’s top to pry it open. Then, you stared down at its insides. 

It simultaneously felt like you’d packed his things away in this box just yesterday and a hundred years ago. In any case, the tender ache at seeing it all still persisted.

The panda plushie, which you picked up gingerly and ran your fingers over its short fuzz before setting it off to your side. It used to sit on a shelf, back at your shared apartment, picked up only occasionally when he wanted to throw it at you to bother you. 

(“Sebastian!” you shouted, startled out of your focus on your book when that goddamn panda nailed you directly on your face. You glared at him, setting your book to the side to snatch up the plushie when he laughed hard enough that he doubled over. 

“Oh my god, your face!” he wheezed, swiping a finger under his eyes to wipe away an imaginary tear. “Come on, you didn’t see that coming? You’re losing your game here, babe.”

“Shut up, you ass! I was reading!” you fumed and stood up to pelt the plushie at him. It smacked him right on the arm, and he only laughed even harder.)

The sketchbook, rarely ever seen by your eyes because he was so protective over it. Abashed, more like, you came to realize a while ago. And for a good reason, you supposed, your lips twitching as you flipped open the thick cover. 

There were some landscape drawings at the start—places you recognized at your old university. The café near the library, the statue at the center of the main quad. A few students walking around or sitting outside on benches. Some components from his engineering projects—designs with their associated dimensions, fluid mechanics calculations, free-body diagrams. You saw a handful of drawings of Lucas and Isidora, either fighting or sleeping against each other—gaping mouths and all. 

And then�� once you hit a certain point in the book, there were drawings of you. 

He’d been so embarrassed when you caught him sketching you one day, though he’d tried to play it off. It was before he’d asked you out, you remembered. You’d thought it was flattering—at least what you could glimpse on the open pages. He’d slammed the book shut pretty quickly once he’d realized you were peeking over his shoulder.

It wasn’t until years later that he’d finally let you flip through the sketchbook properly. 

Doodles of you sitting around campus, doing homework or looking at your phone. A sketch of you walking down the street or staring out a window. Upper body shots of you smiling, or laughing, or talking to one of your friends. The level of detail always blew you away—he managed to capture details about you that you never quite paid attention to yourself. The crinkle of your eyes or the pull of your lips. 

You gently brushed a finger over a rough doodle of you and him—sitting back-to-back as you did your respective work—then closed the sketchbook to set down next to your legs. 

Next was the crumpled, smudged paper of his vows—that you lingered over for a moment, reading it briefly with a small smile. 

There were the silly ones, where he promised to be the best pain in the ass you could ever ask for. To make fun of you for being shorter than him or annoy you to smithereens everyday because he loved the face you made when you were mad.

Then there were the sincere ones, promising to always love you unconditionally. To take care of you whenever you were sick, or encourage you to be the best version of yourself you could possibly be. To hold your hand whenever you were scared. To always be by your side, no matter what. 

You wiped at your eyes with your sleeve, sniffling slightly, and let the piece of paper flutter down to the ground.

And finally… you picked up the flannel. 

Even after all this time, the material was still soft in your hold. You squeezed it between your fingers, tracing over the lines where patches of black met patches of red. If you closed your eyes and imagined hard enough, you could almost feel a warmth coming from it—like it had just been shucked off a warm body. Raising it up to your face to take a deep breath, you could faintly smell that familiar cinnamon. A comfort. A heartache. 

“You know,” Sebastian started, and you lifted your gaze briefly to glance up at him standing a ways in front of you. “I’ve always liked how you looked in my clothes.” He wore a sharp grin that made his cheek dimple on his right. He winked down at you. “Always liked how you looked outta them too, but that’s neither here nor there. Go on, put it on.” 

You rolled your eyes, but found yourself complying anyway. You stood up and slipped the flannel over your arms, fixing it properly over your shirt. Closing your eyes, you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

You could almost imagine him embracing you. Something in your stomach twinged.

“There you go,” he whispered, a breath of air just barely out of reach in the fragile twilight of your room. “Just look at you.” 

You only smiled sadly at the ground and hugged yourself tighter.

In recent years, the small dock by the shore was stripped down and built anew. 

You saw them doing construction from your cottage’s window when the project was first launched and spent many nights fantasizing about dipping your feet into the water from the dock’s edge. And once it was finally complete—after months and months of waiting and watching—you did just that. 

Your evenings were kept mostly the same with your walks along the shore or within the cove. But now you could trudge out onto the now sturdy dock and embrace the ocean in its entirety. You could let the tips of your shoes protrude off the far end of the dock as you breathed in and out. Salty air. The hint of rain in the distance. The spray of water against your face as the waves ebbed to and fro. It was refreshing. The perfect way to let the incessant buzz of your mind die down in preparation for a quiet night.  

The dock, from what you could see whenever you were at home, was mostly used during the bright hours of day. A couple of fishermen during the afternoon. Teens from the town who wanted to jump off and swim to the shore. Either way, by the time the hush of evening fell as people prepared for bed, the dock was empty and perfect for some alone time. 

It was nice, being able to sit down and soak your feet in the cool water when the weather was warmer. You liked watching the sun as it sank beneath the horizon, painting the sky in shades of burnt mandarin and dusty magenta. The last vestiges of gold light would make way for inky darkness that sparkled with hundreds and hundreds of stars. You were never able to appreciate the night sky in the city—so you took every chance you could to sit and stare up at it. Trying your best to identify constellations or just admiring it all until you got too cold to stay out for much longer. 

Sometimes you ate your dinner out on the dock while you chatted with Isidora or Maria on the phone. Sometimes you brought along a book or sketchpad. You missed listening to Sebastian strum away at his electric guitar at times—always filling your apartment with music—so you impulse bought a ukulele and sat by the sea plucking awkwardly at its strings. The dock became a place to pass time. It became a habit that you stuck to for many years. 

You were familiar with it all after spending evening after evening after evening out on its wooden platform. You could count the number of planks it was made of, the number of nails you could feel under your hands. You learned how to read the sea—when it hinted at an oncoming storm or calm night. In a way, it became a safe space for you, away from the stifling walls of your cottage. 

So naturally, when something disrupted it, you noticed almost immediately. 

You were sitting on the dock, half a sandwich on your lap that you’d scrounged up for a late dinner. Your feet idly swished through the water, cool against your heated skin. The dock was high enough that it only submerged your feet up to your ankles, but you did not mind.

You took another bite of your sandwich, then felt an odd prickling sensation on the back of your neck. Pausing, you noticed the hairs on your arms were standing straight up. It… felt like you were being watched. You glanced around—at the wide ocean before you, then the sandy shore behind you. There were a few stragglers in the distance, but they were far enough that you were sure they were not the cause for your sudden unease. 

You swallowed your bite and decided it was probably nothing. 

The following evening, however, it happened again. Then the next evening. And the next. 

Like clockwork, almost, every time you sat down on the dock to relax after your shifts at work. It did not matter what you were doing, or how late you were there. Even for how long. You would always feel that prickle along your nape, and it would not leave until you walked back down the dock to make your way home. Sometimes it followed you up until you shut the door to your cottage. 

You tried testing to see if you would still feel this way walking along the shore, or lounging on the sand of the cove. But even if you completely avoided the dock, you would still feel that familiar prickle of your hairs standing on end. It was… stupefying. You wondered if you were being paranoid. Or maybe you were losing it, just a little. 

“If it’s any consolation,” Sebastian said one night, watching you with half-lidded eyes as you both sat at your tiny kitchen table. “You might have already lost it, sweetheart.” He only grinned at you when you told him to shut up. 

After weeks of enduring this strange sensation, you decided it was best to just pretend it wasn’t there. You could ignore a little unease if it meant your routine would remain undisrupted. So you sat at the dock and minded your own business. Stared out at the rolling waves, read a book, laid back to stargaze. You were able to find peace again. 

Then, one night, you noticed something. 

It was by chance, really. You were staring out at the sea, watching as the waves crashed against an outcropping of rocks in the far distance. It was dark, the only lighting coming from the moon and the stars. It caused the waters to turn black—void-like, almost, if not for the gentle moonlight. Maybe that was what had ultimately allowed you to see it. 

There, just behind the rocks jutting up from the sea like a jagged line of teeth, was this teal glow above the water. 

It hugged along the wall of rock, barely visible from your vantage point. You paused and found yourself squinting at it, trying to make out what the hell it could possibly be. The moment you stared at it for a second too long, however, it ducked under the water before disappearing out of sight. 

You were confused, yes, but you brushed it off as some sort of reflection. Maybe even a marine animal or bioluminescent plant of sorts, though you weren’t sure what. 

You saw it again some nights later, this time just under the surface of the calm waters by the outcropping. It was oddly hypnotizing, in a way, even muted under the deep, navy waves. A constant presence, throughout the entirety of your time on the dock. You could even see it from your cottage window if you squinted. 

The underwater glow became another upset in your routine that puzzled you to no end. You tried to ignore it like you ignored the prickle along your nape, but it was almost impossible to do so when it was so blatantly present in the water. No matter where you looked, the glow always lingered in your periphery. And it wasn’t like it stayed in the same place either. Some nights, it stayed near the rocks. During others, it seemed to draw closer. Farther. Closer. Closer. Farther. 

Definitely not a plant, you concluded one night as you warily eyed the teal glow as it lingered several meters away. A trick of light? You cast a glance up at the vantablack sky dusted with twinkling white. But no, that would be impossible. It showed up no matter if the night sky was clear or cloudy. 

Maybe you were imagining it after being on your own for so long. You grimaced as you thought about your cottage and the inhabitant waiting for you to return to it. Him. As real as your mind could make him. 

In any case, the glow was not a priority. Not with the way the days cycled on—a twisting, gnawing feeling soon growing in your chest that you were well acquainted with by now. Though you wished desperately that you weren’t. 

You woke up tired. 

Not atypical for you, by any means. But this was a different kind of tired—that lingered deep within your muscles and tissue, even your very soul. It made every single motion feel as though you were lugging along hundred pound weights. You were slow in getting out of bed for this reason, taking a few moments to blink wearily up at your ceiling and rub at your temples in a vain attempt to ease the headache you could feel trying to manifest. Already you were not off to a good start.

Steadily, you sat up and immediately spotted Sebastian looming in the far corner of your room. Smiling at you with his hands shoved into his pockets. He opened his mouth to say something, but you lifted up a hand to stop him. Your throat felt like it was lined with cotton.

“Not today,” you told him, voice barely over a whisper. You closed your eyes, then reopened them to give him a weary look. “Just… Not today.” 

He only closed his mouth and continued to smile at you.   

Once you picked yourself up and trudged over to your bathroom, you took a second to regard your reflection in the small mirror. Dark circles that lined the area under your eyes. A small wrinkle between your creased eyebrows. A dullness to your complexion and a hollowness to your cheeks. You rubbed an eye and sighed, a deep thing that didn’t make you feel any better. The day must go on, as much as you didn’t want it to. 

Your coworkers knew not to pester you too much once they saw you arrive at the clinic, so you were granted the relief of a somewhat quiet day. But that did not make things any easier for you—forcing you to be with the overwhelming spiral of your thoughts. You kept yourself busy with work around the clinic, but by the end of your shift, you somehow felt even worse than you had before. 

On the drive home, you stopped by a store to pick up a couple of groceries you needed. And once you returned home and unpacked everything into their proper places, you whipped up a quick dinner and spent some time sitting at your little table poking at it sluggishly. You weren’t all that hungry, despite only having some crackers and water earlier. Your stomach churned, your chest ached. You feared if you ate too much, you would just end up throwing it all up. 

It was quiet. You took your time to clean up and shower. Procrastinating, you registered faintly at the back of your mind. You slipped on some comfy clothes, then snagged Sebastian’s flannel that you’d never had the heart to pack away back into the box with the rest of his things. It hung on a hook on the back of your bedroom door, next to your towel. Forever a haunting presence in the corner of your world that you grew accustomed to with time. You slipped it on, the sleeves lolling past your hands.

Making your way back to the kitchen, you glanced out the window over your sink at the steadily approaching sunset. You’d gotten home slightly later than usual, but it was fine. You shuffled over to your fridge to grab a small, two-pack container of cupcakes and pried it open to take one out. You rummaged around in a nearby drawer for a few things, then slipped out your front door to make your way down to the dock.

It was a bit colder today, especially with the sun dipping closer down to the horizon to make way for night. You took a moment to stand at the edge of the dock and breathe. The fresh air helped, if only a little. The swell of the waves eased some of the tension lining your shoulders. You sat down, crossing your legs, and set the cupcake atop the small space in front of you. 

Leaning back onto your palms, you watched as dusk bled across the sky until it was overtaken completely by night. The moon painted the waves in a milky glow that highlighted their crests and shadowed their troughs. You could faintly register an ache behind your eyes that worsened bit by bit every time you blinked. You leaned forward and rubbed your cold hands along your upper arms before deciding it was time.

From your pockets, you pulled out a single candle and a lighter. You stuck the candle into the top of the cupcake, then—with a flick of your finger—used the lighter to set it aflame. The tiny, orange bud of fire flickered in the gentle wind and washed its soft glow along your hands and legs. Your wedding ring glinted in its light. You stuffed the lighter back into your pocket and sank into a slouch as you stared at the cupcake. 

Faintly, you could smell cinnamon. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Your eyes stung, unblinking as they were. You swallowed and it was like choking down a bucket full of thorns.

He would have been thirty-three today, you thought miserably to yourself as you stared and stared and stared. The fact settled over you like a particularly suffocating blanket. That fatigue you'd felt earlier came back full force, accompanied by a wrenching feeling in the pit of your gut.

Thirty-three. Your face felt hot and cold all at once. You rubbed at your cheek and your fingers came away wet. You exhaled a shuddering breath.

All those years of missed opportunities and moments. No waking up to his slumbering face or to his gentle kisses on your eyelids. No playful teasing or hugs that stole the breath right out of your lungs with how tightly he squeezed. No midnight dances in your little kitchen, swaying back and forth to an imaginary tune. No being loved by him. 

Your heart ached.

“Happy birthday, my love,” you whispered out into the still air, closing your eyes momentarily as your jaw trembled. “I miss you. So, so much.” 

You leaned forward and blew out the candle. 

Then, you buried your face in your palms. And you cried.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, hiccuping into your hands. It hurt, god, it hurt so much. It always did. You were sure even years down the line, you’d find yourself trapped in the same wallowing pit of despair. The pain dulled, yes, but ever so sharp and present when the time lined up perfectly—as much as you dreaded it. Your chest hurt with the way you suppressed your pain.

When you finally managed to pull the shaking pieces of yourself together, everything felt numb with cold. Your head was stuffy, your eyes were bleary. You sniffed and had to choke back another sob. It truly never got easier, even after all this time. You needed some painkillers and a long, long rest.

Sighing, you plucked the cold candle from the cupcake along with its paper wrapping to toss into your trash later. You stood up and hugged yourself, giving the lone dessert another long glance before turning on your heel to head back into the warmth of your cottage. Come morning, the birds will have eradicated all traces of the cupcake from the dock, as they tended to do.

As you walked, the back of your neck prickled all the way up to your door.

In the following days, you noticed the teal glow you’d been seeing underwater was growing closer and closer—even moreso than it had been before. 

This would not have alarmed you too heavily—after all, it wasn’t like it hadn’t been going back and forth in terms of distance for a while—but it was getting to the point where it was only a few meters away. You could slip into the water and swim over easily, you mused, as you warily eyed the glow. Just in case, you decided to avoid sticking your feet into the water for now. 

You couldn’t kid yourself anymore. It was weird—really weird. Pair up the glow with the ever present prickle along your nape and Sebastian’s haunting presence at home, and you had a recipe spelling out… well… mental disaster. It was all you could do to hang on. There really wasn’t much you could do about it anyways, you figured. These days you were just too tired to care.

Currently, you were sitting cross-legged in your usual spot on the dock, aimlessly scrolling through your phone’s notifications as you enjoyed the night air. You had a couple of messages from Maria to respond to—you’d been trying to get better at maintaining contact with her every so often. It was a work in progress, but at least texts were easier for you to deal with than phone calls.  

You thumbed through the rest of your notifications. Lucas had sent you a meme around one in the morning last night that you’d missed. He was in his last year in university, you mulled. How time has flown. You remembered when he was still an annoying preteen, bugging Sebastian to use his no doubtfully expensive guitar. It was difficult to get Sebastian to ever part with it. The thought made you smile slightly to yourself, then you sobered upon remembering you’d had to sell it. In hindsight, Lucas’ guitar phase hadn’t lasted all too long—or maybe he hadn’t wanted something that reminded him of his older brother so much. Sweet memories turned sour after the execution. You sighed and sent him a meme back after liking the one he’d sent. Something about weird-looking cats. 

Oh, one of your coworkers wanted to grab dinner in a couple of days. Hmm. You checked your calendar, then sent off a response text in agreement. The distance you were from the nearby town was not large by any means, but it was enough that you rarely sought exchanges outside of work. You really needed to get out more. Most of your other interactions were online, especially after moving from the city and away from everyone and everything. It certainly was not doing you any favors. 

As you typed up a comment on one of your older friend’s social media posts, you noticed something. 

Just over the top of your phone screen—reflected in the dark water of the ocean. You paused and lowered your phone to stare at it. 

It was the teal glow, brighter and closer than it had ever been before. You eyed it for a moment, apprehension taking root in the pit of your stomach. But there was also this sense of tentative curiosity. You leaned forward just enough to peer down at it beyond the dock’s edge, submerged as it was beneath the gentle waves. It was almost underneath you, oddly hypnotizing as you tilted your head at it. You felt as though you could be sucked right into it, lulled into a trance as the glow encompassed all that you were. 

Brighter and brighter the glow grew. There was the distant thought in the back of your mind that maybe you should be more wary—maybe you should lean back or stand up to gain some distance. But all you could hear were your steady breaths, feel the way your grip tightened on your phone. Maybe you could see if what you were seeing was really an animal of sorts or just some figment of—

There was a head. Sticking out of the water.

You froze immediately, breath caught in your lungs. 

For a moment, you couldn’t process what exactly you were looking at. But then you realized you were staring at a gray-blue face framed by raven hair stuck to its sides. A rather large face, in fact, nowhere near the size of a regular human’s. A… mermaid? You weren’t entirely certain, and even then, there was a lot to unpack with this realization that you were in no way prepared to do. 

There was some sort of lure attached to the top of the creature’s head that drooped down into the water in front of it. Two—no, three, you noticed—eyes were trained intently in your direction, pupils indiscernible in a way that made it difficult to tell where precisely it was looking at. The back of your neck prickled.

Ah, you thought faintly as teal light gently washed across the nearly black surface of the water from the creature’s eyes. That’s what that was. 

You weren’t sure how long you and the… mermaid… stayed there, staring at each other, but eventually something had to give. You were just surprised it wasn’t you first.

The mermaid’s jaw seemed to tense. It regarded you with an unreadable gaze that you could feel flicking over your face. Then, it parted thin lips to say a quiet “Hey.” 

It was like getting punched in the gut—harsh and utterly unforgiving. 

It sounded— It sounded just like Sebastian. Raspier, maybe. A little lower in timbre. But unequivocally him. It was unmistakable—his voice so deeply cemented into your mind when you lived day by day listening to him speak over your shoulder. You felt like you couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t force the air you so desperately needed into your lungs. 

He seemed to take in your silence, appraising you for a moment before speaking again. 

“I know this has gotta be… weird as shit…” he said slowly, voice stiff and slightly stilted. “But I”—he swallowed thickly—“I can explain.” 

You weren’t sure what expression you were making, but you saw the way the skin above his eyes seemed to crease together. You wanted to force yourself to spit out something, anything, but you could not hear yourself think over the rapid ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump of your heart in your ears. The vice-like grip on your insides with how much this mermaid sounded like Sebastian. How it made you hurt. How it made you ache. 

What the hell was going on right now?

“You—” you eventually choked out, your eyes taking in what was before you. A membranous fin at the side of his head flicked slightly at the sound of your voice. “You— I—”

He said your name quietly, and it was like another vicious twist of your gut. The sounds of the sea became white noise, distant and weak. “It’s me. Sebastian. You know? Love of your life?” His face scrunched up, sharp mouth turning into a strained grin as he stared at you with wide, imploring eyes. “Come on babe, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?” 

Just like him. He talked just like him.

But that couldn’t be right. That couldn’t be right. He was dead. He was—

Something suddenly clicked in the far recesses of your mind. 

“Ah.” The syllable dropped from your lips like a rock from a high place. You slumped like you’d been cut from a few taut strings struggling to hold you up. “I get it now.” You exhaled deeply, willing yourself to gain control of your mind and your heart. You knew exactly what was going on here. 

No need to panic. You were in control.

“...Do you really?” he asked warily after a minute or two. You ignored him to focus on yourself.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. You released the tight hold you had on your phone—line etched into your palm from the pressure—and shoved it into your pocket so you could lift your hands up to rub at your temples. 

You were tired. Of this, of everything. 

“I thought this was supposed to be a safe space,” you grumbled under your breath, your eyes closing in a vain attempt to stave off the building headache you were experiencing. “You had to follow me out here too?” 

Sebastian made a sound—a questioning, confused little thing that made you open your eyes to gaze down at him. He looked hurt, almost. “I— What?” 

Your hands dropped from your temples, and you leaned back onto your palms so you could look out at the calm sea. A few clouds passed over the moon from above, temporarily casting a shadow over you and him. You eyed him after a moment of letting yourself relax from the previous adrenaline spike.  

“You’ve never looked like this before,” you eventually mused as your eyes traced over the shadowed line of his nonexistent nose. The way his skin glistened in the dim lighting. “Did something change from yesterday?” You didn’t think you were capable of imagining him like this. Inhuman. No honeyed skin or rough scar bridging his nose. You wondered why it was happening now, of all times. If maybe it was the result of staying by the sea for so long, alone to deal with everything that had happened.

He opened his mouth as though to respond. But then he closed it and just… stared at you. Observing you. Analyzing you for something you were not privy to. A probing gaze that made something under your skin itch. You watched him back, then found you could not hold his gaze for much longer. You looked away and cleared your throat. 

“I’m thinking pasta for dinner,” you remarked casually to fill the silence, eyes shifting skywards in thought. “The alfredo we made last week was pretty good. I got the sauce on sale at the grocery store.” 

Another pause. Another moment where your skin prickled with the sensation of being picked apart, piece by piece.

And when he spoke, his voice was barely over a murmur—a grim realization to his tone. “You… You’ve really lost it after all this time, huh?” 

You made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Don’t be mean. I’m— well…” You gave him a smile, something melancholy lining your lips. “Doing just fine.” The words were bitter across your tongue. He only gave you a look like he didn’t quite believe you, something indecipherable in his gaze. 

“Right,” he snorted. “Like I’m gonna believe that after whatever the hell you just said.” A hand lifted from the water to gesture at you, gray-blue just like his face. 

Rolling your eyes, you shifted on your feet and stood up, brushing off your pants as you shoved your hands into your pockets. You hadn’t realized, but there was this twinge building in your stomach with every minute that ticked by. You needed to sleep this off… whatever this was. You sighed, long and weary. “I should not be entertaining you.” But it was so hard to resist—has been, for years now. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Sebastian muttered to himself, pinching at the bridge of his nonexistent nose with two large fingers. When you only raised an eyebrow at him and took a step in the direction of your cottage, intending to head back to get started on dinner, he lurched forwards in the water. “Wait. Where are you going? Y-You’re leaving?” 

You didn’t intend on answering him, so accustomed to ignoring him in your cottage whenever he spoke into the air. But when this Sebastian snapped out your name in a warning tone, you gave him a look. “I’m not leaving, silly. I’ll see you inside, won’t I?” 

“God, do you even hear yourself right now?” he rasped out, voice betraying a certain incredulity as he lifted himself up in the water just enough that you could see what looked like a waterlogged scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. “Listen to me. I’m here. I’m real.”

Real, huh? 

You closed your eyes and thought about a figure standing in the corner of your living room, watching you with a small grin. You thought about the endless nights of him standing near your bed or hovering just beyond your shoulder, whispering at you to close your eyes and sleep. You thought about a lot. You thought about nothing.  

And so you hummed, a distant thing that you did not quite register as you started to turn away, unwilling as you were to continue this. But before you could make it even a couple of steps back down the dock, Sebastian made a noise—ragged and disbelieving. There was the sound of rushing water directly behind you. The roar of a small waterfall, almost. It made you turn back and blink in surprise as your head craned back.

The wood beneath you creaked and groaned in an ominous manner. 

“We are not done talking,” Sebastian growled as he loomed over you. Like this, you could take him in his entirety—from the brown jacket covering his torso that was dark with seawater, to the three arms he had that held himself up atop the dock’s surface. The shirt he had on was translucent enough to appear gray in color. If you looked close enough at the sliver of his unclothed body before it disappeared beneath the dock’s edge, you could just barely make out the shine of scales. 

This was—like nothing you have ever seen before.

Your lips parted when a drop of water landed on your cheek, startling you for a moment. A glance up at the sky showed clear skies above you. Maybe you’d imagined it. You shook your head slightly and focused back on Sebastian.

Water continued to run down his body, each drop soaking into the wooden planks of the dock, before it eventually eased into a trickle.  

“What is there to talk about?” you asked lightly after contemplating his words. 

His grip tightened on the dock, enough that you could almost hear something splinter. “Much, in case you were not aware.” He surveyed your open face with narrowed eyes, a soft teal glow dusting across your features. It was like you were being held open like a book, all of your innards exposed for him to analyze. You weren’t sure what he found there, but it made him suddenly soften like butter atop a warm stove. 

“I just…” He sighed, something long-suffering that came from deep within his chest. “This wasn’t how I’d imagined things would go, believe it or not.” 

You cocked your head at him and watched him slouch from his rigid position. Still dripping water. Still with that raven hair plastered to his face. There was a sort of exhaustion to him that you’d never noticed before. It made something pang in your chest—caused you to clench your hands into fists in a vain attempt to focus on anything else. 

There was the pungent smell of fish, raw and metallic.

Not real. This was not real.

Sebastian shifted, and the hand attached to his torso—smaller in size and covered sloppily in stained bandages—raised as though it was going to reach towards you. Your heart nearly skipped a beat at the motion. But then he stopped, staring down at his palm. Big and gray and consisting of four thick fingers with sharp ends. There was the glint of something gold around his fourth finger. Your own hand twitched inside your pocket. 

Always just out of reach. Never crossing a line. 

His hand clenched into a fist, and he lowered it back to the dock with a quiet thud.

He said your name. “I know this is difficult to hear, but… It’s me,” he whispered, voice strained like it was on the precipice of breaking. “It’s really, really me.” 

You swallowed heavily, feeling as though the world was unraveling by the seams beneath your feet. 

This was not him. It couldn’t be. 

Why would you ever imagine him like this? 

“No, it’s not,” you eventually said bitterly, breaking eye contact so you could glance back at your cottage. You closed your eyes, then reopened them as you turned your back to him. And when you spoke again, your voice teetered like you were one step away from falling into a never ending pit. “You’re dead.” 

And then you walked away.

Each step you took felt like eternity, something heavy weighing you down. He called out your name. First so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, a tinge of something fragile to it. Then again with frustration lining his voice—louder and aggrieved. There was a sharp crack of something behind you, but you were determined in your march back home. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Your jaw clenched to suppress the tremble you could feel working its way throughout your body. You refused to look behind you, and you succeeded right up until you stood before the door to your cottage. With one hand on the metal knob, you twisted around to look back at the shore—the dock you could see a ways behind you. 

It was vacant, not a soul in sight. 

Your lips pursed together, and you opened the door to slip inside with a heavy, grim feeling taking root in your stomach. 

Sebastian was waiting for you already, sprawled atop your couch as he grinned at you wide enough that you saw each and every one of his white teeth. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said amusedly, one of his hands raking through the wavy mess of hair on his head. His voice lowered, gentle and sincere. “Maybe take a break from the dock, yeah?”

You only slowly shook your head and moved past him, suddenly feeling queasy and lightheaded and so frazzled that you couldn’t bear being awake for much longer.

Your thoughts lingered on the shore. Teal eyes and the sound of breaking wood that felt so real in that instance. You forced yourself to breathe.

It was fine. It was fine. 

You would deal with it as you always have.

part two

[amaranthineghost]

| I CANT HELP BUT PUSH YOU AWAY, MY DEAR. SELF SABOTAGE IS ALL I KNOW ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: feeling loved is foreign to her, she wants to self sabotage, but he won't let her.

ꕥ authors note: I enjoyed this too much, probably one of my favorites I've written, not requested. side note, this will probably be the last thing i write because i work like 20 hours this weekend (including friday) plus another 15 hours next week(not including sunday) so i'll be busy with work and school, but i'll try my best to get some writing done. I suspect i'll be working more because of christmas being close, but we'll see! thanks for all the support &lt;3

if anyone has any christmas requests for any driver, PLEASE i would love to write it :3

ꕥ warnings: mentions of anxiety and overthinking and everything that comes with it, as well as struggles eating caused by anxiety, partially unrevised.

GIVING LOVE WAS EASY. receiving it felt too good to be true. giving love was easy when she'd spent her entire adolescence handing it out like a warm beverage on a cold day. it was always up for grabs, and people always wanted to take it for granted.

the idea of love was something she'd daydream about daily, craving it in a way she didn't believed she deserved. giving her love away was easy because she had lots to give. she'd trust easily, but not at the same time. she'd give her heart, but not her mind and that's how she'd end up hurting.

she longed to be loved. she swore every single love language was hers, but she'd realize how often she'd crave a single touch from the man she wanted. physical touch was always the one she longed for.

love was hard to believe. she was surrounded by it, but she never had it on the level others had.

she longed to be loved, but could she handle being loved? she knew she couldn't from past, failed relationships that failed because of her. because all it took was one relationship to break her trust for the rest to follow.

it was hard to trust that relationship to begin with, anxiety ate her away with every waking moment. she didn't believe she deserved to receive love in return of giving hers away. countless times her friends told her that he didn't deserve the love she gave him, it was best that she found out who he really was, but it destroyed her.

because now when any man showed any slight interest in her, she'd recede with heaps of anxiety.

growing up, from a kid to a teenager, she was never told she was pretty or attractive. she never had the attention from the right guys to make her feel it too. she knew she didn't need guys to tell her things to make her feel better, but she wanted them to. she'd watch her friends find solid relationships, or go between guys. she couldn't find one.

it solidified her belief that maybe she wasn't deserving. being loved was so foreign to her, she didn't know how it felt to be loved in the right way.

after all, all she knew was heartbreak and self-sabotage.

when she'd finally found her first relationship, she'd swallow the looming anxiety that bubbled in the pit of her stomach. because someone wanted to be with her. she'd give them all her heart, she'd give them her trust.

but a relationship laced with infidelity was bound to burn. and so it did. it set a fire greater than she could've put out by herself. because deep inside, it still burned in her heart. it ruined her. now she couldn't comprehend the idea of trusting someone on such a level as a relationship. being genuinely loved by someone other than herself, but even she couldn't. she didn't deserve it. because what others couldn't see in her, she couldn't see in herself.

every other 'relationship' that followed failed. they burned before they even got a chance to ignite into something else. something good, and or something bad.

because she'd never let them get close enough to have her trust. she wasn't the type to easily communicate her feelings towards another individual, pushing it into the deepest depths of her heart and mind. for her and her only.

growing up, her feelings were often stepped on or put out. she'd get called a cry baby, or no one would even care to listen. it's one of the reasons her self sabotages work so well.

she wouldn't communicate, a key component to the formula for a relationship. because what goods a relationship that you know nothing about. what goods a relationship that she's miserable in because she's too scared and untrusting to let someone through to her heart again.

it was a miracle she even managed to date him, let alone meet him in the first place. he was famous, she was her. one of the reasons she didn't think the relationship was going to go as far as it did.

because she'd constantly compare herself to his former lovers. pretty models with perfect features, famous like him.

but the attraction between the two was undeniable, even she had to admit. when they'd lock eyes for the first time, she felt that same anxiety. she always felt it when faced with anything that could be more than just a friendship. but he was different because not only was the feeling of anxiety present, the feeling of wanting more, longing.

though with every notification, she found herself praying it wasn't him, not because she didn't like him because dear god, he was probably the most attractive man she's ever seen. but because she didn't know how to talk to someone with the intention of being more than friends.

it was so vastly different than if she was texting to become friends. she couldn't imagine going from barely knowing each other, to hanging out, to dating.

because it meant she had to trust the person. she'd have to trust herself, and she didn't know if she could handle it.

she found herself struggling to reply within a message that didn't seem too dry, but not giving her burning heart away like charity. she was never good at it.

but when random texts throughout the day turned to late night conversations over the phone, to falling asleep on facetime calls, she knew she was in too deep.

especially when they'd hung out for the first time. they had a magnetic energy pulling one another together, like they couldn't and wouldn't be separated. neither of them wanted to.

but she didn't know what to tell him. she didn't know how to express her feelings when she's forced herself to keep quiet for as long as she can remember. she didn't know how to tell him she needed words of reassurance because her anxiety was her mortal enemy.

it wasn't like she couldn't trust him, she knew she could. but her mind made every possible way that he couldn't be trusted by her. it was always in her thoughts.

self sabotage seemed like the better alternative than spilling her heart and hurt to him, or overthinking every way that this would be a bad thing because there's no way he could be good to her.

when the days of anxiety got particularly worse after they'd started dating, he'd notice the times when she'd shy from his touch. he noticed her lips more irritated than usual from the consistent biting, or how short her nails became. how little she ate, and how much she'd pick at her food, pushing it around the plate till it got cold.

days like those, he did what he could with what he knew, which seemed like nothing. but he'd never fail to say something that he'd hoped would make her feel better.

and it did, at least a little.

as she laid on her back in his bed, her eyes stared into the dark of his room. her stomach rolled with the nauseous feeling that came with her anxiety, and biting her lip became a routine. her head turned to see the back of his. lando's curly hair, the chain around his neck, his bare shoulders and back. a sight to see, especially in the dark.

she'd spent countless nights awake long after he falls asleep, each time she'd carefully reach for his phone. she knew it was wrong, but she needed reassurance, and she didn't want to ask for it. but his phone was password protected, something she was too scared to even hint at.

so it became a routine. stay up well past when he'd fallen asleep, slipping his phone in her hand and simply trying a few passcodes she could think of that might work. to no avail, she'd place the phone right back, trying to make it seem like it never moved.

his phone had face id, she knew but it always seemed too risky, even for her. but she was desperate. she needed to know even when in her heart, she knew there wasn't a chance of infidelity. but her heart was charred and still in flames, so it wasn't enough.

she'd hold his phone in her hand, sliding across the cold phone case that'd matched hers. her heart beat in her chest as she slowly turned closer.

her body loomed over his, her arm snaking in front of his tired face, desperately trying for face id. she knew it'd be too dark, but this was the only time she'd actually try something. she saw the screen illuminate his face slightly, but not enough.

" 'm password's your birthday," his words slurred because of his tiredness, but nonetheless she heard him and she froze. he knew she'd been trying to get into his phone? for how long?

her mouth was dropped open and she slowly retreated the phone, though the rest of her body in shock. her feelings were conflicting. it never occurred to her that his password would be about her. because in her mind, she wasn't important enough for that.

with her breath held, sweaty palms and shaky hands, her fingers danced across the number pad, entering the date.

it worked, her eyes flickering back to him. the fact he was so willing was already enough to calm her because if it was any of her past situationships, she'd be sure they wouldn't be so forgiving if they found her with their phone. it was a deal breaker in the past.

but the way he just didn't care was nearly enough for her. at this point, she just wanted a peak, and that's all she did.

when she reassured her heart, she'd slid his phone back on his bedside table. she laid back down on her side, thoughts running through her mind at a million miles. she turned to him once again, slipping her arms around his midsection. she felt the warmth of his back spread across her chest, pressing her cheek against his skin and fluttering her eyes shut. for so long, she'd craved touch, being held by someone she was in love with.

she'd remember the last feeling she felt before slipping into a warm slumber, the sensation of his smooth and callused hand around her wrist, his thumb caressing her skin softly. she'd smirk against his back.

when morning came, she didn't know what to expect. most of the time, she wouldn't even make it through the night before she was kicked out, forced to go back home. because to them, it was much easier to force her out than to have a conversation with her. she didn't know which one she'd prefer though.

because what she didn't expect was waking up to the sun in her face, leaking through the curtains and spilling across the bed. she'd found her way to the other side of his bed, lying on her stomach with his arm across her back. her hands found their way to his wrist, feeling the multitude of bracelets between her fingers. she examined the difference between them, the fancy designers to handmade ones from his fans.

though mostly silver, there was an odd gold one that stood out, it caught her attention. the corners of her lips twitched into a smile as she separated it from the rest on his wrist. though it was mostly a simple thin chain, it had a bar with the designer name on it. she'd liked it. it was simple and pretty.

she heard the bed rustle next to her, she dropped the bracelet back down on his wrist, her head turning to watch him go from lying on his stomach to pressing his chest against her back. though his eyes still closed, he'd press his face into her neck tiredly. the hand that she'd played with grabbed hers while his other arm snaked around her shoulder and across her chest.

"you can have it, if you want," he muttered against her skin, sending chills down her spine and vibrations through her skin as she inhaled sharply. she watched him bring his hands close together, unclasping the simple bracelet.

"you don't have to, lando-" she stuttered, assuring him it was fine, but he was stubborn. he'd shush her, lifting his head to find her wrist as he'd place it around it.

" 'ts fine," he told her, "pretty girls should have pretty bracelets," he whispered against her shoulder, his lips lingering on her skin. he'd tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. she felt his breath against her, shuddering.

"are you sure?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper when she'd look into his green eyes, watching how his pupils change size. she now laid facing him with her arm under her, supporting her weight.

she was scared it was some sort of bribe, that he'd ask her to do something in return, or that it'd be a thing to use for her to overlook something he'd done.

he nodded, studying every feature of her face. every mole, freckle and blemish, every lash on her eyelid, noticing how some crossed over the other.

"y'know we need to talk, yeah?" his tone was gentle, the rasp of his morning voice melted her brain. her heart paused, her eyes dancing across his face as he waited for an answer. his head tilted to the side.

she brought her hand to her face, biting at the flesh around her nails nervously. she felt anxiety creep over her body, tummy churning with unease. she just nodded back, unknowing of what to say.

" 'm not mad, love," he brought his hand to her face, the pads of his fingers running across her cheek, slipping into her hair, "jus' want to know what's goin' on."

the way his voice was so warm and inviting, with the slight rasp in his throat, causing a dip in his voice with every hushed word he spoke, it caused shivers across her body.

her lips parted, but no words left her throat. she pursed them together before thinking of what to say. she'd whisper back to him, "I jus' don't know how to tell you."

his head tilted even more, feeling his fingers scratch her scalp softly, "tell me what?"

"how I feel."

he felt a pang in his heart as he heard her words, the hurt laced into her voice as she watched his face closely, "how do you feel?"

she hesitated, looking at her hand nervously, finicking with the new bracelet on her wrist when he'd carefully push her chin up to meet his face.

she sighed, biting her cheek, "I feel," she started, "like I don't deserve to be loved."

she'd watch his eyes soften at her words, the expression on his face growing sadder the more he processed what she said.

he shook his head, "you do deserve it, darling, m'kay?" he leaned closer, his forehead against her, "I don't know how many times I'll need to say it for you, but I will because it's true."

his words sunk into her skin, her mind, her heart still set afire all these years later. she couldn't extinguish it by herself, but he could.

the fire that burned in her heart started to diminish with every word, with every sentence of affirmation from him. it told her she could spill her guts to him and he'd be there to simply listen. she needed that so desperately.

"I'll tell you anything you want to hear," he sat up more on the bed, his head stretching above hers, "but we need to work together on this." his hand pulled from her hair and lined across her jaw.

she nodded, sighing softly as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, her tongue gliding across her cracked lips with a stinging pain.

"I jus' get really anxious, and then I start to overthink," she started so easily and without realizing, she couldn't stop.

she'd spill all her trust on him and he'd pick it up and lock it safely with him. because he'd die than betray her trust, after they'd worked so hard to make this work.

he'd see the fire ablaze in her heart and body and put it out in a matter of a few words when it took her years to even lessen the hurt.

he'd restore her charred heart, picking away at the blackness that plagued it. picking her mind apart from the bad and making her realize what she needed all along.

he put out her fire.

[81folklore]

heaven - PIASTRI - part 4

pairings: oscar piastri x private!fem!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: oscars winter break as seen through social media

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: THEYRE BACK BABYYY!! ive missed these two so much so here 🤲 i spent a while trying to decide what i wanted to happen with these two (already have some plans) but i needed to post and my current wip is so frustrating 😕

authors note 2: its official theyre my favorites, i had sooooo much fun writing this, just two babies in love!!!! requests are always open and feel free to come chat!! (also i wrote this at 6am so sorry if there are any typos🫶)

heaven masterlist masterlist

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 9,289 others

always dressing up 🖤

📸 oscarpiastri

view comments

yourfriend3 actually insane

yourfriend7 you are so lovely

oscarpiastri how are you even real

yourusername babyyyy☹️

oscarpiastri 😍😍

yourusername 🤩🤩

user5 ur outfits are always unreal

landonorris is thought u were staying in tonight??

yourusername we are..i dressed up for fun😁

user7 THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE

user18 SKWKZIWJJS

user93 my jaw DROPPED

yourfriend2 my favorite outfit of yours!!

user54 biggest question is if we’ll get winter break content😕

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourfriend1 and 13,279 others

my favorite time of year💫

view comments

oscarpiastri weenie waits for no one

yourusername heyy he likes sleeping in the warm☹️☹️

oscarpiastri still steals my seat😕

user54 oh my god

user3 DID OSCAR TAKE THOSE?!

yourusername yesss🫠

yourfriend6 see you soon!!

user68 the outfits NEVER disappoint

user2 im so ok

user26 THE FOURTH PHOTO??

user63 THE LAST PHOTO??

user5 you are so so pretty

yourusername thank uuuu🫶

oscarpiastri

liked by aussiegrit, yourusername and 436,742 others

life without racecars☀️

view comments

user54 OH MY GOD

user77 i may never recover

yourusername weenie and back photos oh i won *liked by creator*

landonorris ?!?!!?!

user2 LMAOOOO

user4 i feel ill i cant cope

user32 i need someone to love me the way they love each other

yourusername ☀️☀️

user9 the third photo..the THIRD PHOTO

user44 don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry

twitter

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 14,281 others

oscar oscar oscar

i hold so much love for you i often feel like its about to spill out of me, unable to be contained, and when im with you i let it. i let it fill the room and cover you until you really feel how much i love you

every day i wake up thinking about how lucky i am that i get to love you, that i get to live with you. its a blessing and im the luckiest girl in the world

ill never be able to fully explain just what you mean to me, just how much youve impacted and improved my life. everyday i find myself thinking of you and finding bits of you in places i least expect and then i get filled with this happiness that i only experience with you

you are the light of my life oscar piastri and i will love you in every universe, i promise

tagged oscarpiastri

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri i love you more than words can describe, you have made me the happiest man alive

oscarpiastri i am in awe of you every single day and i cannot believe i get to spend them with you

yourusername 🩷🩷

op81priv

liked by yourusername, ln4priv and 37 others

the love i feel for you is infinite and is strong enough to keep me alive forever

you keep my heart filled with a love that ive never felt before and i will only ever feel for you

you’re my forever person, my bestfriend and i will love you until i cant love any more

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername oh oscar i love you so much

yourusername forever sounds perfect to me

twitter

yourusername added to their story

[sofs16]

perceval shark

charles! fake photographer x singer!reader

HEY! i know that may sound alarming as he is a fake but its quite silly… i think… im about to write it so enjoy <3

— just finished writing; not proofread at all

yn.yln

liked by charles_jpg, and 10,484,393 others

yn.yln hi friends! im currently looking for a photographer to join me on tour for the next month since my cousin (usual photographer) got injured and can’t travel:( send me a message or email in my bio and ill send more deets:) thanks a lot!!! 💌

view all 2,484,393 comments

ynsphoto will she acc reply to like millions of people tho 😭

⤷ yn.yln i really am trying but my instagram dms are glitching now 🫠 my team and i have replied to most of the emails tho:))

july 31, 2023

— mail app, you’ve got 16,483 inbox!

INBOX

From: Charles Perceval >

To: Yn Yln >

July 31, 2023 at 4:18

Hello, Yn!

If you are still in need of a photographer, I would love to help out!

Though I have no real experience aside from taking pictures of my friends, I have a large passion for music as you do.

I hope to hear from you:)

P.S Here is a link to some of my work. Have a good day:)

All the best,

Charles Perceval

NEW EMAIL

To: Charles Perceval >

From: Yn Yln >

Subject: reply asap pls :))

July 31, 2023 at 11:01

Hey, Charles!

I’ve really spent quite a while being mesmerized at your photos and I would loveeee if you could come with us on tour this month!!

The notice is quite short but the schedule would be August 4 to August 28 with us circling Europe. Let me know if there’s any issues and we could work around it:)

Hope to hear from you as well.

All the love,

Yn Yln 🤍

To: Yn Yln

From: Charles Perceval

July 31 at 16:22

Hello, Yn!

I am so glad! There may be a minor issue but could maybe we could talk about it on Instagram.

Would that be alright?:)

All the best,

Charles

Charles Perceval

charles_jpg • Instagram

12 Followers • 83 Posts

Following you since 2017

yn 💌

i must say, the 12 followers and private account is very sketchy, perceval 🤷🏻‍♀️

Charles Perceval

Hello Yn! Why are you judging me on my followers 😂

yn💌

NO IM NOT

im just saying i hope you dont rob me when we meet in real life 😔

Charles Perceval

Thank you for the trust in me. But I would not do that to you😁

yn 💌

sigh.. i guess it’s my fault if i end up dead in a ditch… ANYWAYS!

are you free to meet tomorrow 😁

Charles Perceval

Where exactly?

yn💌

Where are you now?

Charles Perceval

Spa

yn💌

you’re.. in a spa?

Charles Perceval

No! Spa, Belgium

yn💌

that one was NOT on me! But perfect the first stop there is actually Belgium! I can go there if it’s not a problem for you?

Charles Perceval

It is no problem for me:)

yn💌

Charles, don’t take this personally or rudely, but how old are you?

Charles Perceval

26 This October

yn💌

alright! just making sure youre not an old man😁

Charles Perceval

Aw, thank you.

yn💌

my manager will send more details, thanks charles and see you tomorrow:)

charles.jpg

Follow Requests

f1babes + 5,383,292 others

yn.yln has requested to follow you. 1m

confirm | delete

yn.yln

belgium

liked by charles_jpg, and 8,018,382 others

yn.yln i may look fine but i have been hiccuping for the last 2 hours i fret i am getting a six pack

view all 1,198,292 comments

ynsbabe i bet if u turned it to a sing, it’d be a bop

⤷ yn.yln too emotional to turn it into a song

august 2, 2023

yn.updated

liked by 2,483 others

yn.updated yn.yln just landed in Belgium where she will be performing for the first time this Friday!

view all 318 comments

liviesyn streets say she went to dinner with a guy 💔😭😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ ynsday chill. she can have guy friends

⤷ author not this one 😅

august 2, 2023

ynshit

liked by oliviarodrighoe, and 16 others

ynshit NOT WHAT I EXPECTED EMAILING THIS MAN.

view all 10 comments

oliviarodrighoe cant believ u didnt know charles leclerc THATS SO SO SUTPID IM LAUGJGING

⤷ ynshit HE SAID PERCEVAL DUMBASSSSS

⤷lauflaufey if he said leclerc would you have known anyway😭

⤷ ynshit 🙂

⤷ oliviarodrighoe how did you even find out

⤷ ynshit HE TOLD ME BCUZ HE’S LIKE A SHIT LIAR (thank you very much)

reneewrap did you hire him anyways

⤷ ynshit yes… MAN IS RICHER THAN ME THO

⤷ oliviarodrighoe HAHAHAHAHAHA

⤷ ynshit fuck you

⤷oliviarodrighoe or…

⤷ ynshit STOP

august 3, 2023

charles_jpg

yn.yln has requested to follow you. 4d

confirmed | decline

— instagram notification!

• yn.yln has followed charles_jpg and charles_leclerc!

charles.jpg

liked by yn, lando.jpg, and 7 others

charles.jpg Thank you, Lewis for the camera 😘

view all 10 comments

lewis.jpg Anytime mate! yn yes, thank you lewis hamilton

[liked by charles.jpg]

august 3, 2023

ynswife

liked by 10,483 others

ynswife what do you MEAN yn followed charles leclerc on his main AND jpg acc which NO ONE ELSE BUT THE GRID AND HIS FAMILY FOLLOWS. view all 3,485 comments

ynsferrari bro has been liking all of yns posts since 2015 with that acc 😭😭😭😭

august 3, 2023

yn.yln

tagged: charles_leclerc liked by charles_leclerc, and 14,393,292 others

yn.yln belgium 🤍 got a special guy with us too

view all 3,696,607 comments

charles_leclerc Sooo excited for this month! ⤷ yn.yln bring it on, perceval;)

maxverstappen1 🎉

taylorswift Gorgeous! ⤷ yn.yln i told u guys that song was abt me

august 3, 2023

charles_leclerc

tagged: yn.yln liked by yn.yln, and 2,293,596 others

charles_leclerc London 😎📷

view all 583,797 comments

yn.yln youre so talented, perceval:,) you make me like my smile

⤷charles_leclerc Haha thank you, ynn. You have an pretty smile to begin with! ⤷ lestappen1661 I can hear the church bells

charles1166 no because the way charles always captures her best moments like the happiness in the first slide and how she’s literally a star on the 2nd 😭

august 6, 2023

FERR4RI.YLN

liked by 3,282 others

FERR4RI.YLN “you make my like my smile” “you have a pretty smile to begin with” OH ITS OVER FOR US

view all 27 comments

ylnleclerc MOM AND DAD

august 6, 2023

yn.yln

tagged: charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 7,383,494 others

yn.yln my turn to jpg 🤭

view all 3,585,922 comments

charles_leclerc Loving the first slide ❤️

⤷ yn.yln thanks!

oliviarodrgio ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹❣️❤️💗💟😘

⤷ yn.yln fuck off. f1rraris yn sitting with charles on the plane😭 his whipped smile😭 them eating together😭 the heart emoji😭

august 8, 2023

yn.updated

liked by 18,493 others

yn.updated yn sings unreleased song “slut” at monaco soundcheck today?!?! some lyrics :

• “got love struck, went straight to my head”

• “and if they call me a slut you know if might be worth it for once”

• “everyone wants him that was my crime”

• “i break down then he’s pulling me in. in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman”

view all 4,586 comments

chleclercs bye. august 10, 2023

yn.yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 9,193,492 others

yn.yln monacoooo!!! thanks for being so kind to me and charles:,)

august 10, 2023

yn.yln

monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, and 11,737,292 others

yn.yln a day in shark lerklerk’s life

view all 4,697,922 comments

lewishamilton shark lerklerk

⤷ maxverstappen1 shark lerklerk

⤷ fernandoalo_oficial shark lerklerk

⤷ pierregasly shark lerklerk

⤷ landonorris shark lerklerk

charles_leclerc 🤦‍♂️

⤷ yn.yln💆🏼‍♀️

cru3lsumma entering gf yn time.

august 11, 2023

ynshit

liked by oliviarodrighoe, and 8 others

ynshit this isnt funny im ac down bad. ITS BEEN LIKE 10 DAYS

view all 6 comments

oliviarodrighoe MATCHMAKER ERA 🙋‍♀️

august 11, 2023

sharkie !!❤️

ynn💗

sharkie! wana dinner 2nite 🎉

sharkie !!❤️

Of course! Where should I pick you up? :)

ynn💗

my my what a gentleman

at the hotel we’re staying in🤷🏻‍♀️

sharkie !!❤️

see you:)

ynshit

liked by 11 others

ynshit HE LET ME EAT IN HIS CAR. …… 🙂

view all 32 comments

laufey oh she’s whipped! oliviarodrighoe LALALALALALAL HELLO?

august 11, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by 7,282,595 others

view all 1,201,833 comments

charlec11 the random an posting no caption is so bf

yn.yln wait. why do i look snatched here.

⤷ charles_leclerc You most certainly are ;)

⤷ f1111zoom HOLD TH E PHONEZ

august 15, 2023

yn.yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 15,393,393 others

yn.yln little ep out now:)

[ COMMENTS DISABLED ]

august 22, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by 21,383,696 others

charles_leclerc Might as well be worth it for once❤️

view all 5,707,707 comments

yn.yln thanks for the last pic, love 🧘‍♀️

yn.yln STOPP IM GOING TO MISS YOU FOR TOUR

⤷ charles_leclerc you could always come to the pasdock😘

⤷ yn.yln WAGGING HERE I COME

august 25, 2023

[ileftherbackhome]

i think the thing i hated the most about the public abuse campaign against amber heard in 2022 is that even well-intentioned but ignorant people to the entirety of the details in the case were saying things like "amber is an imperfect victim but she is still a victim" because they knew she would fight back and would try and negotiate with her abuser sometimes instead of just leaving like society thinks you should do.

and this is building off the previous post about the two types of child abuse because it allows applies to how we treat domestic violence as a society as well. amber heard was a perfect victim, her abuse story was textbook open and shut.

she grew up in an household witnessing DV between her parents. she is a bisexual woman. she was a young starting actress when she met johnny depp, at half his age. at this time, depp ALREADY had a history of public drunkness and violence because he was well into his 40s, maybe 50s at the time.

he was amazing to her in the first months of dating, maybe even a year. then he hit her for the first time after she makes a joke at his expense and she was shocked.

she knew abuse was wrong. she knew the behavior was unacceptable. but this wasnt her boyfriend. this wasnt the man she knew. she had never seen him act this way before, there were no signs up until now. he was so loving. he was drunk and probably high anyways. maybe it was a one time thing. he was so sorry afterwards. she gave him another chance because it had been months of living together (or at the very least spending weeks holed up with one another only!!!!!! red flag af) in perfect harmony at this point.

he goes back to normal. things are better than before. he pulls out all the stops. hes caring towards her friends and family. she feels like he cares about her safety still at this point. obviously he didnt want to hurt her. obviously he just lost control.

it happened again. and again. and again. each time the cycle gets faster. each time, the abuse more violent.

it leads to sexual assault. she's married him at this point. this is on their honeymoon i believe. she feels embarrassed. she spent 5 years putting up with him. she feels the most violated ever. she doesn't know what to do. she's ashamed. she tries to make it work again.

it leads to the worst attack on her life. she was worried she was going to die. over a dog shitting on their bed when she was out of town. her friend called the police to de escalate the situation because he wasnt listening to anyone's explanations and accusing everyone of conspiring against him. it sounded lethal over the phone. they were worried for her safety.

the police come but everyone has already calmed down at that point. she is ashamed of what has happened so publically at this point. she knows she cant stay. she knows he doesnt care about her safety finally. she leaves. she files for divorce and alleges abuse as the reason why.

she has YEARS of testimony. he paid doctors to drug her. he wrote awful texts about wanting to rape her corpse. he called her a lesbian camp counselor and made her apologise for being bisexual and having women friends. there are videos of him being violent and slamming doors around her drunk and incoherent rambling. you can tell she doesnt want him to see the camera but she needs the proof. she knows nobody will believe her without proof.

she has dozens many hundreds of photos of the abuse. she has MEDICAL TESTIMONY FROM HER THERAPISTS AND HIS THERAPIST HE FORCED HER TO ATTEND WITH HIM.

he convinces her to drop the abuse allegations and sign AN NDA after a hours long conversation his lawyer would leak to the public in a future lawsuit as part of a smear campaign against her.

she waits until he speaks publically about the abuse allegations in an interview before she writes an article about protecting women legally who are abuse victims and states she was "a figure representing domestic violence publically" or something to that affect.

he files a defamation lawsuit against her and the newpapers calling him a wife beater as a result. he loses in a country where liberaci won his defamation lawsuit for the press calling him gay publically.

he files another defamation lawsuit against her, a tactic that is well documented as an abuser DARVO tactic online with advocacy groups everywhere. he files it in a country with terrible media laws and in a state with even worse laws protecting DV victims.

he gets a famous alt right misinformation company to spend thousands of dollars running a social media smear campaign with bots.

he wins the defamation lawsuit because people genuinely believe a grown woman alleging abuse shat in this man's bed as an elaborate plot to abuse him and steal his money and fame or something??????????????

this is like clear cut perfect victimhood. if amber heard isnt a perfect victim, who the fuck is??????

not that i agree with perfect versus imperfect victimhood because its such a gross concept imho to ascribe to but like she is definitely a perfect victim.

and it all stems from the fact that society doesnt understand how someone can choose to stay with an abusive partner for years before leaving that relationship. society doesn't understand how someone can grow up witnessing abuse as a sign of love and that changing their perspecting on what real love should look like.

idk like i genuinely think about amber heard all the fucking time and all the abuse victims that summer destroyed emotionally and mentally witnessing yall behave like that. and yall just moved on. yall moved on. you ruined that woman's life and all she wanted to do was be honest about her truth and be believed. yall stole that from her and you told every abuse victim watching that you are not a safe person to be around and then yall just... moved on.

well im still at the restaurant, this is the corner im haunting for the rest of my life. i cannot accept it, it breaks my heart when i think about it.

[doukeshi-kun]

did kolya ever dispose the bodies of alex and julia? (i cant remember if that was their names hehe its been a while...)

because i've been wondering if he got caught and arrested or he just ran off too, OR he just murdered the rest of the officer's? AND HOW DARE HE KISS ANOTHER WOMAN ? was it basically just a plan to get closer to the reader at the end. i got so many questions (im still not healed 😐)

ah i just really love any discussion about stalker!nikolai bcs i really love to hear thoughts and opinions and theories from you guys 😆

well, to answer, julia was 'disposed', sort of. she was, after all, mutilated and stuffed into garbage bags and the rests of her body were thrown at the back gate of the haunted fair—near the forest. alex, well... after y/n and nikolai ran away from the police, alex's corpse was being left on the road but a few police did find him and surround his body as our main couple ran away and had their conflict somewhere.

whether kolya got caught or got bailed or ran off, that's totally up to interpretation. is this an excuse that i don't have storyline for that? no! bcs i do have the real answer on how nikolai is still 'free' even after all that incident and why he kissed the woman.

and below this :readmore:, i'm telling briefly on what actually happened (from the writer's perspective lmao). but again, i did intentionally leave the details bcs i like to have my readers interpret the scenes however they want

so, firstly, whether nikolai does possess The Overcoat in this au does not matter. in my mind, he was caught up by the polices and there are already several implications that he has connection with fyodor still (based from ivan's scene). he complied with the authority while also depending on fyodor (or anyone you want, really... or perhaps himself) to help him with the proofs and accusations. so, yes, he was caught up and complied to the authorities. i believe nikolai is not a man who kill unnecessarily (alex is necessary lmao and julia... well, he killed her bcs she made y/n's life horrible. so she got that chop chop). as i believed he is such a man, i can't really see him murdering all the polices... especially after his funfair was raided, alex's corpse was left on the road near the fair, etc. the most logical way to do this is to play smart. and besides, in BSD universe itself, the polices are kinda weak and like.... how many fucking murderers roaming the BSD world😭 pretty sure nikolai can tweak the law and system easily, especially considering he was a secretary for the ministry of justice years ago.

but! like i said, you can freely think however you want him to escape or be free. he killed the polices? sure! he escaped thru his portal? yeay! he just get caught and spent 3 months in jail? okay! — after all, you are the reader.

secondly, yes, he kissed maya (i was hurted too writing that goddamn) and fortunately he rejected her offer to have sex because he is THAT loyal. and well, while he made out with maya purely to manipulate the poor lady emotionally to get to the reader, but hey :) at least he kissed you back thousands times more desperate and hungrier and passionate.

[lakesbian]

the other thing about writing syjessie is that with any other cishet boy character in 1920 i would probably consider it quite possibly highly unreasonable and silly to have everything go from 'oh no my boy best friend is in love with me what do we do' to 'good news my boy best friend has decided she wants to be a girl actually. lets kiss' in 0 to 100 flat but. The Thing About Sylvester Is . he literally textually canonically on purpose has a weird psychosexual fixation crush thing on an adult man. he's not bisexual he's just like that. he's got that whole shounen yaoibait (also on purpose) thing with jamie because he's just so pathologically fucking Obsessed with his friends that a best friendship will have him clinging emotionally + physically and veering over boundaries that would normally be reserved for a romantic relationship. he never shuts the fuck up in his skull about how awesome gordon and his secret dark side are, because he is obsessed with his friends. you kind of get the sense that it was a cruel trick of fate to make him heterosexual because he would be genuinely incredible at being bisexual and in love with all of his friends. he already practically Is in love with all of his friends, it just doesn't come with romantic or sexual attraction towards the male ones. (or towards helen bc shes helen, by far too scary by far.) like hes the worlds first bisexual straight boy. and by the time jessie comes out, he's already spent months and months on end living with her and spending every day with her and coming to see her as not just a best friend but also very clearly as the person his entire life is built around. which is the only thing holding his sad little brain together since he doesnt get to be with any of the other lambs. so i think that for sylvester specifically it's actually incredibly natural for his hyper-adaptable wildly codependent brain to react to jessie coming out with not "oh cool, maybe eventually ill like you but idk i cant promise anything" but with the "OH SHIT OH FUCK THE PERSON I ALREADY LOVE CRAZYSTYLE IS A GIRL AND SHES WEARING SKIRTS" switch flipping on in his skull and him speedrunning getting the worlds most cringe+fail crush on her. Like do you know what i mean. I believe he could have this level of efficiency in him.

[milkybellybites]

Pink Hope - Lee Anton

Pink Hope - Lee Anton

Pairing Anton x Reader Genre Fluff Warnings None! WC 675

Masterlist

Chapter One

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

7:26AM

Look at me, I’m as helpless as a kitten up a tree. And I feel like I’m clinging to a cloud, I can’t understand. I get misty just holding your hand.

Misty by Lesley Gore blares through my headphones as I read the twenty second chapter of my favourite book Little Women. Being a hopeless romantic means rereading the same fifteen romance books over and over again, obsessing over said books, and finally, daydreaming about feeling that kind of love. Everyone always says that certain kinds of love only exist in movies and books but I dont believe them. How can someone write about experiencing such amazing love without feeling such amazing love?

“Morning Sunshine, lets get going. We are going to be late.” Chaewon chirps as she bursts through my bedroom door, “Gosh Y/N, how many times have you read that old book.”

I roll my eyes as I take out my headphones and place the old tatty book in my bag, “Don’t knock it till you try is Chae. You never know, you might like romance books.”

“What? And be like you? Listening to lovey dovey music while reading your silly little romance books all day.” She laughs, standing up from my bed bumping shoulders with me, “I could never spend my days swooning over men who dont even exist.”

“Hey, Laurie and Amys’ love story is perfect. You cant deny it.” I replied as we make our way downstairs.

“Actually I can. I never read the book. Bye, Mom!” Chaewon waves a goodbye to my Mom as she opens the front door. Chaewon started calling my Mom “Mom” only one year into our friendship after she had a nightmare during a sleepover and my Mom comforted her. Ever since that night Chaewon has had two Moms.

“Bye, Mom! See you tonight.”

7:47AM

“Y’know, if you spent more time studying and less time listening to Mac DeMarco you wouldnt have a 62% in Japanese.” Chaewon exclaimed wildly as we exit the convenience store.

“Y’know, I dont think I’m going to take academic advice from someone with an average grade of 54%.” I laugh, cracking the lid of my iced coffee bottle.

“Hey, I am not taking any kind of sass from a person who reads for fun.” Chaewon grumbles at me.

“Maybe you should pick up a book. Try expanding your pea sized brain.”

We both laugh as we make our way into the school gate.

8:01AM

“Morning Eunseok.” I smile at my seat mate.

“Hey Y/N. How are you.” He questions.

“Good,” I say with a small smile while turning to get my books and pencil case out of my bag, “Did you have practice this morning?”

“Oh, yeah,” He replies, looking down at the rumpled up practice bag that is covered in dirt, “Lots of running this morning.”

I laugh quietly and turn back to my books but not before he could ask, “Is Chaewon here today?”

“Yeah,” I reply pointing a few rows ahead of us, “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” He quickly and quietly covers the creeping blush on his cheeks.

8:12AM

The classes quiet and comfortable atmosphere is abruptly disrupted by a group of teenage boys barging in hollering and whooping like a group of baboons. They are so not like the boys I read about.

“The gang is back together!” Sohee - the self-proclaimed “Ladies Man” - exclaims while sitting down in his seat.

“I am so happy you're back Anton.” A voice I recognise as Shotaro hollered from the back of the group.

Anton? I wonder who that is. I turn to look at Chaewon to find she is already looking at me. She gives me a confused look and I simply shrug my shoulders.

“Yeah guys, its pretty cool.” A small unrecognizable voice mumbles. 

The group of boys start to disperse out to there seats as the first bell rings, leaving a lone boy standing in the middle of the class, nervously grabbing his backpack straps.

Oh.

Oh. That was Anton.

[gor3sigil]

hi i dont really know how to introduce myself, so i hope you dont mind if i skip that part.

i just wanted to ask about that post you made a few days ago. in one of the last paragraphs you mention how hatching is painful. but is it supposed to feel like my entire world is cracking apart around me?

what you mentioned in the beginning of the post, about how the people around you felt about masculinity, that very aptly describes a lot of my fears of reactions to me identifying as masculine, which is what started me crying and ultimately spurred me to message you.

im just so scared

i have lots of trans people in my life, i just dont know how to talk about this with most of them (see: Very Scary :C) ive spent my whole life using femininity to take down peoples walls and help them feel comfortable around me. what the hell am i supposed to do as man? can i even still behave that way? will people even still trust me? will they like me? will they feel safe around me? its unbearable. every time i think about it my brain tries to run away, there's just so much fear.

is this normal at all? to be scared like this? i mean, considering i too struggle with the radical feminist narrative you mentioned? i dont believe the narrative, but i fear it. and then i get insecure and i cant stop thinking the insecurity an indication that manhood is the wrong direction for me.

am i making any sense?

Hi, it must've taken lots of strength to write all this so congrats to you. My answer will be based on my own experiences so take it with a grains of salt. Yeah, your world will definitely shatter too. Because even if you're just socially transitionning, if you do so while being surrounded by trans friends, most of them will change the way they percieve you so your interactions may change. I know that's scary, but you have to trust the process. If they're good friends, they won't like you less or anything. That's the hardest part I think. As you read in my post, coming ot made me lose tons of friends, most of them trans, because they treated me badly after I came out.

And yes, you are making sense. I went through the exact same fears as you. The fear of not being deemed as safe anymore. Unfortunately, I don't really have any solutions to offer you, appart from building your own community, online and/or IRL. Like I said, most of my trans friends were kinda crappy about me being masc and I struggled for years to feel comfortable in my masculinity as a result. Because I did the same as you, me being a "woman" was my way of saying that I understood the struggles of others and was safe. Let me stress one thing. You are still okay, you're not a bad person. Even if you discover new things about yourself, even if you're transmasc, even if you're transitionning (if you do), you are still very much the same person as before, with your understanding of a number of issues, with your own pas experiences.

It's a point I really can't stress enough. As I said in my post, you are still worthy of love, support, tenderness, being understood, being heard, being listened to, being comforted. One thing I noticed is that my previous friend tended to dismiss my feelings and/or be "rough" with me thinking that it was "affirming" because I was a man now. Let me tell you that that's BS and don't let anyone treat you this way.

Maybe try to test the water, idk if you came out already or not but maybe in your presentation or just by talking about transmasc specific issues with them, see how they react. That being said, I really do hope that your friends will be understanding. Or that by explaining to them how their behavior is wrong they will understand and act differently, because sometimes people so shit cause they don't know any better. I hope this helps, and I really wish you all the best. If you ever need to talk feel free to reach out again. Take care.

[indras-wife]

hii! I read some of your writing and AHHH!!!<33 you're an amazing writer like I'm in love with all your works!

I was wondering if I could request a yandere! indra head cannons with a s/o who is blind due to getting severely hurt in one of her missions and now she's starting to function without her eyesight but its been hard for her to do so. Maybe this is pre-obession when they first get to now each other?

have a great rest of your day, lovely! I totally understand if you don't accept this request, no pressure! <3.

Hi sweetheart! Thank you so so much for such kind words!<3 I am happy that you love my writings, as it gives me more motivation to share my ideas with more people.<3<3<3. And yayy another Yandere Indra. He is really one obsessive man and I cant explain just how much I love writing him as a yandere.

Thank you for this AMAZING request. I did my best to write this and hope you will love it. You can request more and I will complete them with great pleasure. Have a good reading cutie<3

Indra knew his s/o since they were kids. Even as a kid, he noticed how strong-willed and strong-minded she was. And of course, she was always appearing in some trouble, from which usually Indra was saving her.  He did like saving her, appearing as a hero in her eyes, but deep in his heart he was afraid that he would not be able to help or save her in some situations.

“You worry too much about me. I am strong and can handle everything life throws at me okay?” she would always tell this to Indra, hoping to calm him and not have him worried over her. Of course, Indra was never fully convinced of it, but as a kid, he tried to trust her and believe in her abilities. Only later on would he regret trusting her words and not listening to his heart.

As they grew up, both their powers grew as well. Despite knowing how strong she was, Indra absolutely hated the idea of his s/o fighting or taking part in anything dangerous. As a pessimist, Indra envisioned multiple bad things happening to his s/o during a mission. The one he was extremely afraid of was of course her dying. Indra would never forgive him for letting his crush die, without ever getting the chance to confess love to her.

His fears unfortunately came true one day, when she returned to the village with her teammates, severely hurt. As soon as he saw her in that state, Indra’s mind filled with dark thoughts about killing the one who dared to hurt her s/o this bad. Of course, with a lot some intimidation and searching, he found the man who hurt her. 

“You touched and hurt what’s mine. You will experience the same pain as she did, but only 10 times harder. I will NOT let you live!” His face and clothes were covered in blood as he finished dealing with the man. Despite mercilessly torturing and killing him, Indra felt unsatisfied. He wished to bring this man back and kill him over and over, till he got that satisfaction. Of course, he did use his visual prowess, but for him it was not enough at all.  

Upon returning back home and seeing his s/o in a bed, Indra’s heart filled with more hate towards the man whom he killed not long ago. He even started to dislike her teammates, even though they also were badly injured. “Imbeciles…” He would think to himself every time he saw them.

“ I am sorry Indra-sama…We were not able to help her and..I am afraid she has lost her eyesight forever”

Indra felt his whole world crush down upon hearing the head medic speak those words. She was now…blind?  Undoubtedly, Indra carried a lot of guilt in his heart, blaming him for not being with her and letting her get hurt to the point of losing her eyesight. 

He spent his free time next to her, tending to her needs and just taking care of her. Now that she is blind, Indra would not let her off his eyesight. If he had to train some students, he asked his two strongest students to guard her and not let anyone, except the medic, go to her. He would try to finish his training soon so he could spend more time with her. 

At first his s/o loved how sweet and caring Indra was, feeling as if she was only now getting to know him and his caring side that Ashura was always talking about. Indra would feed her, keep her company and most importantly speak with her. The more she saw his kind side, the more she started to fall for him. It was a shame she lost her eyesight and could not see his handsome face, but hearing his soft voice was enough for her.

 Her feelings for him were growing day by day and one day she confessed her feelings to him. “I think I am in love with you…Indra-sama” she spoke softly, hearing her own heartbeat in her eyes. She was sure Indra would reject her or ignore her, but she was pleasantly surprised when Indra pressed his lips to hers. “I waited so long to hear those words…I've been in love with you ever since we were kids…I feel accomplished now” He spoke calmly. For both of them this was the ebay day in their lives. However, the love confession would soon enough fuel Indra’s extremely protective and even crazy side to an unbearable point

His s/o  was soon enough able to get out of the bed and was trying to get adjusted to her new life without her eyesight. It was difficult, but she managed to do it. After being able to walk with a cane, she wanted to try and get back to training after her body fully recovered. When she spoke to Indra about it, Indra was very dissatisfied with her desire. “No way. Have you lost your mind? You lost your eyesight and there is no way I am going to have you trained in this state. You should forget about your past life FOREVER. I will be always next to you and take care of you so your training is NOT needed”

She absolutely hated how Indra was constantly with her, scolding her if he noticed her trying to practice in secret. He was now overly protective, not letting her off his eyesight. His s/o was starting to regret falling for him, but she knew there was no way out of this situation. Her only solution was obeying him and not making him angry. After all, her mind was replaying his words which sounded like a treat more and more each day. 

“You belong to me…Don’t ever forget about it, darling. And if you EVER think about disobeying my words, trying to escape or get your life back, I will put a stop to it right there. I WILL NOT hold back..So be a good girl and listen to me~”

[ants-personal]

thinking about bensons dead beat dad who left around when he was 6 he doesnt remember much about him but he does remember being referred to as a fuck up already and how hed barely see him even though his mother was the one with a job.

How maybe once his dad took him hunting cause thats what men do with their sons and it hadnt been so bad until it came time to shoot the fawn his father whiaperung harshly for him to take the shot before it scampers off to his mother and he ended up crying with shaking hands unable to pull the trigger its mama would be sad he cried thats her i dont want it to die the fawn running off snd his father calling him pathetic and the rest of trip being spent in silence his father barely looking at him and when he did all he saw was disgust and anger.

How after his father left his mother was devastated and angry going from sobbing holding him rocking on the couch about how theyll be okay and to have him promise never to leave her hes a good boy and loves his mama course he wouldnt do that. To her drinking and getting angry just like that man did she only blamed him once regret on her face after but he remembers and never truly believed her when she apologized perfously. How much time he spent alone cause she still needed to work and they had no family close enough to watch him.

How he was forced to be more mature for his age at taking himself to and from school after second grade he doesnt play with the other kids he spends alot of his time alone reading or writing what he guesses were a kids verison of poems or songs. His teacher calling him a little elton john hes can see him being a big star when hes older. He would like the days they played sports it was the one time he acted like a kid running and laughing as his team would win.

He doesnt ask for many things knows because shes showed and explained that they dont have alot of money for the things she wishes she could give him but thanks to he who wont be named this is what they got he tries to make her feel better its okay mama he doesnt want those things anyways toys and games hes happy with a ball and paper and he doesnt really even wanna go to a stupid stinky zoo with his class. So praises him for being so smart and kind her sweet baby boy as they watch the old tv and a leftovers she took from the diner.

So its a surprise when she comes hom one night and sits him down to tell him she was able to get some distant relative to help her raise the funds to let him go to the field trip to the zoo and he cant help but squeal and jump around before hugging her thanking over and over hes never been so excited about anything he knows what animals will be there theyve been learning about them in class even when he wasnt going he still enjoyed at least learning. But now hes going he can barely concentrate when his mom explains that she wont be able to chaperone like all the other parents she still has to work but when dropping the money off at the school and explained this to his teacher. She was promised that his teacher would be keeping a close eye on him so hes to stay with him at all times and listen like she knows he will. Nodding furiously repeating promises a new bounce in his step he helps with the chores its the day before the best day ever and he has a hard time falling asleep but eventually does with a smile

[sebsgirl71479]

London Nights

A Shoot your Shot add on.

Sebastian Stan x Curvy!Actress Reader

Word count: 1,722 words

A/N: Yes, I started this story because of the most beautiful pictures of Sebastian Stan at the London premier of Sharper. This is in the same universe of Shoot your Shot but decided to give it a different name this time around. Again, reblogs are very much appreciated. Thank you to @christycurlswrites and all the ladies on my discord for encouraging me to write this even when I'm still in the middle of my Sebastian Stan!Mafia story

Warnings: 18+ no minors, Smut (pvp sex) Unprotected sex, Cussing, fluff. If i missed anything opps. 

The week before valentine's day you and Sebastian were heading to London for press and the premier of his new movie Sharper for Apple+. You had never been to London and this was going to be amazing because you were going with your very sexy fiancé Sebastian. The flight was going to be super long so you left New York around 11:30 pm for you to arrive a little after 9am London time. You and Sebastian both wore comfortable sweatpants and hoodies for the flight since you were hoping to get a few hours of sleep on the flight. “Seb do we have to go through the regular TSA or do we have to pre-check?” “I made sure we got pre-check. So just in case there would be too many people at the airport we could just go right through and you wouldn't have to feel uncomfortable being searched.” “Thank you so much baby, I love you.” “I love you too draga” 

You were both able to get 4 hours of sleep on the flight and so you didn't feel too tired when you got to Heathrow Airport. You each had a carryon and 1 large piece of luggage for your stay in england. Stepping out of the VIP area of the airport you were greeted by a man in a black suit and a sign saying ‘Mr Stan & Fiance’ “Well I guess this is for us huh honey?”  “I guess so, very cool.” “Hello, I’m Mr Stan and this is my fiance Miss Y/L/N.” “It's good to meet you sir, if you will follow me, we will get your luggage into the car and head to your hotel.” You followed the driver to the curbside pickup and handed him your things. You got into the backseat waiting for Sebastian to finish speaking to the driver while helping him. That man will try his best to stay humble in any aspect, that's one of the reasons you love him so much. While you sat there you thought of the sexy lingerie you packed especially for the premier he is going to flip. 

You were brought out of your dirty thoughts when Sebastain opened the door to get in the back with you. He slid over so he could be closer to you and wrap his arm around you. “I cant believe I’m in london with the love of my life and celebrate his newest movie.” you look up at him as you say the last part. “I’m glad you were able to come with me draga. Premiers make me more nervous than awards shows, I’m glad to have you by my side.” Sebastian gives you a kiss on the forehead and you snuggle closer to him as you drive through the streets of London. You settle into the hotel and spend the rest of the day relaxing on the couch in your room while Sebastain makes a few phone calls letting him know where his press interviews will be and with whom. 

That evening you have room service brought to your room and have a nice romantic dinner. The next 2 days are spent following Sebastian to his interviews and in between interviews you chat with a few of his co-stars. In a flash Wednesday comes and it's the day of the premier. You have no clue what Michael, Sebs stylist put him in and you’re buzzing with excitement to see what he is wearing. You spend most of your time getting ready in the ensuite of the hotel room making sure your skin is glowing and your hair is perfect. You put on the lingerie you picked out for tonight and checked yourself in the mirror one more time before you opened the door to get your dress that was hanging on the room door. “Sebastian are you in the bedroom?” “Yes darling, I'm all dressed, just waiting for you to put on your dress.”  When you exit the bathroom you see Sebastian looking in the mirror to make sure his suit is good. He hears you coming out and when you both lay eyes on each other it's like there is a jolt of electricity that hits both of you. There he stands, in an all black Prada suite with a long trench coat and turtleneck. 

He is giving off major vampire vibes with his long hair loose and beard. “Fuck me.” you say quietly. At that moment Sebatian sees you in the lingerie you picked out and his eyes blow wide with lust. He rakes his eyes up and down your frame and starts slowly walking towards you. His gaze is so intense it's almost embarrassing how hot you’re getting from it. You're so turned on by his look your pussy is practically dripping with desire. “Sebastian?” “Draga, how much time do we have til we leave? Because I don't think we can go until I've had your perfect pussy wrapped around me.” “I think we have enough time, besides we can always be fashionably late.” At that moment Sebastain is on you and crashes his lips to yours in a heated, passionate kiss. You slide your hands up his arms and and push his coat off his shoulders and onto the floor. Sebastian has his hands on your shoulders gliding down the sheer lingerie to have access to your breast. He grabs ahold of them and you moan into his mouth. 

He starts kissing down your neck at the same time removing the lingerie having it pool at your feet, when he comes back to your mouth you bring your hands to his belt and start removing it as well and unzipping his pants. You place your hand on his hard cock and gently tug on it. He breaks the kiss and bends down to bring your left breast into his mouth while pinching the right with his thumb and middle finger. “Oh god Seb, don't stop.”  “I won't stop until you can barely walk tonight. Don't worry I’ll help you if needed.” With a devilish grin he brings his hands to the back of your thighs and hoists you up to his waist and brings you to the large king size bed. He gently lays you down on the bed. With your hair splayed across the bed and you in only your thong you look like a sex goddess. He finishes taking off his slacks and then his shirt keeping him in boxer briefs. He grabs his cock over his briefs trying to stave off the ache he has for you.  

You lift your right hand and with your finger beg him to come to you, he obliges and starts crawling on top of you. Placing open mouth kisses up your body as he meets your lips in a bruising kiss. He is absolutely feral for you groping your breast and hips as he makes it down to the waistband of your thong. He takes it in his hands and rips it off your body. “I hope after this you weren't thinking of wearing these because i want you dripping my cum as we walk the premiere.” “I wouldn't have it any other way baby. Fucky me daddy!” Sebastian said screw it, no prep he rolled on top of you and started taking his underwear off and kicked them to the floor. He came back down and placed his forehead to yours while pumping his cock a few times before nugging your clit feeling how wet you are for him. “Oh god baby your so fucking wet, is this all for me?” “It’s all for you always.” Sebastian started inserting his cock into your weeping pussy inch by inch. You were so wet he could practically slide in with no problem which he did once he was halfway in and just slammed his cock the rest of the way elcting the most pornagraphic moan he has ever heard. 

“Fuck baby that was the sexiest sound i have ever heard lets see if we can hear that again.” He started fucking so hard the headboard of the bed started hitting the wall. You were already in a haze with how relentless his was fucking you. Your hands started scratching down his back as the intensity of your organism was approaching. “Oh Sebastain, baby i'm so close, thats it right there don't stop. Oh god!” “I'm almost there too, baby come on cum with me. I want you to look at me when you cum.” You slowly open your eyes and are met by his sweaty face and eyes that will look into your soul. You hold his face and give him the same intensity. He can feel you choking his cock so hard and brings his hand between your bodies and starts circling your clit. You bring your legs around his waist and lock them in place at the ankles. Then with just 3 words you let go of an earth shattering orgasim. “Cum for daddy.” You are milking his cock so hard he can hardly move when his orgasim comes. “Holy shit baby, i cant stop cumming there's so much i can't stop.”  He stays inside you for a few more minutes. “I love you so much Seb.” I love you too y/n, soon to be Mrs Stan. I like the sound of that.” He rolls off you and stands up to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom to wipe the little cum that is on your thighs. He still wants you dripping from your pussy tonight, no underwear. 

After redoing your hair and make-up and getting your dress on finally, Sebastian gets dressed again and keeps his disheveled hair for the night. You make it to the movie premiere 10 mins late but are on time to have Sebastian take photos with his castmates. As you two sit to watch the movie you are squirming in your seat feeling Sebastian's cum dripping out. He notices this and brings his lips to your ear to whisper to you. “You okay baby? Is there something wrong?” You can hear the smile on his face, smug bastard. “No baby I'm good just can't wait till this is over so we can have round 2 maybe 3.”  “God I love you so fucking much baby.”

Tag List: @christycurlswrites @frostironfudge @buckyalpine @altagraye @allandoflimbo @peaches1958 @wolphfeather @ozwriterchick

[avawritingsfc]

Hiii❤️ loved your bf!colepalmer headcanon!! I was wondering if you could do one based on how arguments would be like with cole? In need of some angst haha 😭

Thank you!! xxx

Hey!💓 Aww I'm glad you liked it🤧

Okay so in terms of how I like to write arguments, I always like bringing an astrological twist to things. I find it adds a different dimension. Although, we don’t know much about Cole’s birth time, we know he is a taurus sun so I have based my thoughts on how he would behave during an argument with his partner on that.

~~Enjoy😘

Arguments with Cole Palmer: Headcanon⚡️🖤

before you read: not too angsty, pretty realistic. again these are my thoughts and opinions, please don't take it too seriously.

The Silent Storm:

The silent storm is truly how i would describe Cole during moments of conflict with his s/o.

Cole is not the type to raise his voice during an argument.

When tension first arises, he tends to go quiet, his brows furrowed as he tries to process his emotions.

He’s not one for impulsive reactions, so he’ll often take a moment to collect his thoughts before responding.

This can sometimes feel like he’s shutting down, but really, he’s just trying to avoid saying something he might regret.

Stubborn as a Taurus:

This man is STUBBORN!!!

True to his Taurus nature, once Cole has made up his mind about something, it’s hard to get him to see things differently.

In an argument, this can be both a strength and a challenge.

He stands firm on his beliefs and will defend his point of view with solid determination, not backing down.

This stubbornness can sometimes make it difficult for him to compromise or admit when he’s wrong.

Protective of the Relationship:

OKay so yes he's stubborn and irrational at times BUT...

Even in the heat of an argument, Cole is deeply protective of the relationship.

He hates the idea of anything coming between you two, so he’ll avoid saying hurtful things that could cause lasting damage.

No swearing here pls!!

If the argument escalates, you might notice him taking a deep breath, his voice softening when he finally speaks, as if to remind you both that you’re on the same team here.

Physical Reassurance:

While words might be harder for him in the midst of a disagreement, Cole instinctively reaches out to you, whether it’s holding your hand, gently placing his hand on your shoulder, or simply staying close by.

He believes that physical touch can help bridge the gap when emotions are running high, and he hopes that these small gestures will convey that he still cares deeply, even when you’re both upset.

This man's love language is definitely physical touch, i could talk about it all day.

Long Drives to Clear His Head:

The rarer times, when an argument gets too intense, Cole might suggest taking a break.

He’ll often go spent time with his friends or go for a long drive to clear his head, giving both of you time to cool down.

He’s not walking away from the problem but rather trying to come back with a clearer perspective.

He’ll text you something like, “I just need a minute, but I’m not going anywhere,” to reassure you that he’s still committed to resolving the issue, but just not right now.

A Soft Apology:

I cant lie but Cole isn’t the type to apologise right away, especially if he feels strongly about his position.

However, after he’s had time to reflect, he’ll come back with a heartfelt apology if he realises he was in the wrong.

His apologies are quiet but sincere, often accompanied by a simple “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” and he’ll make it clear that your feelings matter more to him than being right.

Rebuilding with Care:

After the argument, Cole is all about mending things slowly and carefully.

He’ll suggest doing something together that you both enjoy, like watching a movie or going out for a meal, as a way to reconnect.

He’ll be extra attentive and affectionate, making sure you feel loved and valued, reinforcing that the argument hasn’t shaken his commitment to you.

my conclusions: overall I think Cole truly takes arguments seriously. It might shake him up a bit but he is emotionally intelligent enough see them as opportunities for you to grow closer together. After things have calmed down, I definitely see him want to talk about what happened—not to rehash the argument, but to understand how to avoid similar conflicts in the future. He feels a sense of responsibility. Once he's committed, he's all in. Deeply invested in making the relationship stronger, he always wants to learn from such moments to become a better partner to you.

AHHHH i wanna cry🥹

[burningvelvet]

excerpts from lord byron’s letters that read like tumblr posts from the 1800s

(diary version: https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/708562718092836864/random-excerpts-from-lord-byrons-diaries-that)

“We of the craft (poets) are all crazy. Some are affected by gaiety, others by melancholy, but all are more or less touched.”

“Remember me to yourself when drunk. I am not worth a sober thought.”

“Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go, it is useless to inquire. In the midst of myriads of the living & the dead worlds — stars, systems, infinity — why should I be anxious about an atom?”

“I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.”

“I have imbibed such a love for money that I keep some sequins in a drawer to count, and cry over them once a week.”

“I do not believe in any religion. I will have nothing to do with immortality. We are miserable enough in this life without speculating upon another.”

“Venice and I agree very well - in the mornings I study Armenian, and in the evenings I go out sometimes - and indulge in coition always.”

“The great object of life is sensation — to feel that we exist, even though in pain. It is this ‘craving void’ which drives us to gaming — to battle — to travel — to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description, whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.”

“If I could always read I should never feel the want of company.”

“When I am ill or unlucky I philosophize as well as I can.”

“Cant is so much stronger than cunt.”

"I have such a detestation of cant ... that I make myself appear rather worse than better than I am."

“There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.”

“Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.”

“I can never get people to understand that poetry is the expression of excited passion, and that there is no such thing as a life of passion any more than a continuous earthquake or an eternal fever. Besides, who would ever shave themselves in such a state?”

“Why should Queens not be whores? every Whore is a Quean.” [Context: 1. Queen Caroline was being tried for adultery 2. “Quean” was another word for “prostitute”]

“But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.”

“To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.”

“I doubt sometimes whether a quiet and unagitated life would have suited me - yet I sometimes long for it.”

“I think the worst woman that ever existed would have made a man of very passable reputation. They are all better than us, and their faults such as they are must originate with ourselves.”

“I should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.”

“Hate is by far the greatest pleasure; men love in haste, but detest in leisure.”

“Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogethery, then inarticulate, and then drunk.”

“In the last two years I have been at Venice, I have spent about five thousand pounds, and I need not have spent a third of this, had it not been that I have a passion for women which is expensive in its variety every where, but less so in Venice than in other cities.”

“I am so changeable, being everything by turns and nothing long, – I am such a strange mélange of good and evil, that it would be difficult to describe me.”

[on a lover, Margarita Cogni] “I forgot to mention that she was very devout, and would cross herself if she heard the prayer-time strike — sometimes when that ceremony did not appear to be much in unison with what she was then about.”

[on his future wife] “I am quite irresolute — and undecided — if I were sure of myself (not of her) I would go — but I am not — & never can be — and what is still worse I have no judgement — & less common sense than an infant — this is not affected humility…”

“I was the fashion when she first came out; I had the character of being a great rake, and was a great dandy — both of which young ladies like. She married me from vanity, and the hope of reforming and fixing me.”

“I read ‘Glenarvon,’ too, by Caro Lamb — God damn!”

"I have seen three men's heads and a child's foreskin cut off in Italy.”

“What could I do? – a foolish girl – in spite of all I could say or do – would come after me... I could not exactly play the Stoic with a woman who had scrambled 800 miles to unphilosophize me.”

“I have fallen in love, which, next to falling into the canal (which would be of no use, as I can swim), is the best or the worst thing I could do.”

(on the possibility of spies being sent for him during the Greek Revolution) “If these Gentlemen have any undue interest and discover my weak side — viz — a propensity to be governed — and were to set a pretty woman or a clever woman about me — with a turn for political or any other sort of intrigue — why — they would make a fool of me — no very difficult matter probably even without such an intervention. But if I can keep passion — at least that passion — out of the question (which may be the more easy as I left my heart in Italy) they will not weather me with quite so much facility.”

[on a Venetian lover, Marianna Segatti] “I am sure if I put a poniard into the hand of this one, she would plunge it where I told her, — and into me, if I offended her. I like this kind of animal, and am sure that I should have preferred Medea to any woman that ever breathed.”

[in response to a fan letter] “You tell me that you wished to know me better, because you liked my writing. I think you must be aware that a writer is in general very different from his productions, and always disappoints those who expect to find in him qualities more agreeable than those of others; I shall certainly not be lessened in my vanity, as a scribbler, by the reflection that a work of mine has given you pleasure; and, to preserve the impression in its favour, I will not risk your good opinion, by inflicting my acquaintance upon you.”