#or to share the same music taste with another person

[sapphic-terror]

I think people are put onto this earth to love each other, and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise.

[audarcy]

Me in the shower thinking about my wife: i think one of the big reasons why het culture "wifey/hubby" "his/hers" "tiaras/mustaches" matching sets other than the cis binarism of it all is that it reveals the thought process behind heteropatriarchy wherein ideal love is a product of inversion; two puzzle pieces that fit together but are separate and made functional solely by the utility of their differences. Heteropatriarchal love retroactively redefines a person as a half of a whole, their functions and idiosyncrasies only valuable when curtailed by another's. But more than that, heteropatriarchal love is so divided. My "hers" towel and your "his." Married on a friday because saturdays are for the boys. Your woodsmoke-scented deodorant and my lavender. We cant possibly hope to understand each other and that's what lends our partnership value, somehow. But the love i cherish--the love that nurtures me--is inextricability. Not the teeth of your personality spinning the cogs of mine but the blend and blur of our edges together. The further in the tide rolls the better. The love that nurtures me is accepting everything about you into my life even if i dont feel the same way about it that you do. Its a becoming. Becoming you, becoming myself, becoming us, again and again. There are no puzzle pieces to snap together, and im no more or less of anything with or without you. But no matter what happens i carry you with me now. Even in the small ways like how we wear each others jackets and deodorant and hats. I wear your mannerisms, and your jokes. I have your interests. You have my music taste. We subsume and consume one another. We explore each other by exploring ourselves and vice versa. The process of loving you is a mapping of a vast expanse and it is the creation itself of that expanse, ad infinitum. Loving you is a fluidity of the self. I try out new ways of living through you. I see through your eyes. My life doubles by virture of sharing it with you. We finish each others sentences and joke that were the same person but its truer than we have the language to describe. My selfhood blurs into yours; Im not half of a whole, but together we are a whole. You could draw a straight line from one end of me to the other end of you, no breaks. And why shouldnt we travel that line? Step inside my head and get comfy. Mi casa es su casa. Youre me and im you.

What comes out of my mouth when she walks into the room: id let you wear my skin if i could

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

25 Prose Tips For Writers 🖋️✨ Part 1

Hey there!📚✨

As writers, we all know that feeling when we read a sentence so beautifully crafted that it takes our breath away. We pause, reread it, and marvel at how the author managed to string those words together in such a captivating way. Well, today I'm going to unpack a few secrets to creating that same magic in your own writing. These same tips I use in my writing.

But before I begin, please remember that writing is an art form, and like any art, it's subjective. What sounds beautiful to one person might not resonate with another. The tips I'm about to share are meant to be tools in your writer's toolkit, not rigid rules. Feel free to experiment, play around, and find what works best for your unique voice and style.

Power of Rhythm 🎵

One of the most overlooked aspects of beautiful prose is rhythm. Just like music, writing has a flow and cadence that can make it pleasing to the ear (or mind's ear, in this case). Here are some ways to incorporate rhythm into your writing:

a) Vary your sentence length: Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, flowing ones. This creates a natural ebb and flow that keeps your reader engaged.

Example: "The sun set. Darkness crept in, wrapping the world in its velvet embrace. Stars winked to life, one by one, until the sky was a glittering tapestry of light."

b) Use repetition strategically: Repeating words or phrases can create a hypnotic effect and emphasize important points.

Example: "She walked through the forest, through the shadows, through the whispers of ancient trees. Through it all, she walked with purpose."

c) Pay attention to the stressed syllables: In English, we naturally stress certain syllables in words. Try to end important sentences with stressed syllables for a stronger impact.

Example: "Her heart raced as she approached the door." (Stronger ending) vs. "She approached the door as her heart raced." (Weaker ending)

Paint with Words 🎨

Beautiful prose often creates vivid imagery in the reader's mind. Here are some techniques to help you paint with words:

a) Use specific, concrete details: Instead of general descriptions, zoom in on particular details that bring a scene to life.

Example: Instead of: "The room was messy." Try: "Crumpled papers overflowed from the waste bin, books lay spine-up on every surface, and a half-eaten sandwich peeked out from under a stack of wrinkled clothes."

b) Appeal to all five senses: Don't just describe what things look like. Include smells, sounds, textures, and tastes to create a fully immersive experience.

Example: "The market bustled with life. Colorful fruits glistened in the morning sun, their sweet aroma mingling with the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Vendors called out their wares in sing-song voices, while customers haggled in animated tones. Sarah's fingers brushed against the rough burlap sacks of grain as she passed, and she could almost taste the tang of ripe oranges on her tongue."

c) Use unexpected comparisons: Fresh similes and metaphors can breathe new life into descriptions.

Example: Instead of: "The old man was very thin." Try: "The old man was a whisper of his former self, as if life had slowly erased him, leaving behind only the faintest outline."

Choose Your Words Wisely 📚

Every word in your prose should earn its place. Here are some tips for selecting the right words:

a) Embrace strong verbs: Replace weak verb + adverb combinations with single, powerful verbs.

Example: Instead of: "She walked quickly to the store." Try: "She hurried to the store." or "She dashed to the store."

b) Be specific: Use precise nouns instead of general ones.

Example: Instead of: "She picked up the flower." Try: "She plucked the daisy."

c) Avoid clichés: Clichés can make your writing feel stale. Try to find fresh ways to express common ideas.

Example: Instead of: "It was raining cats and dogs." Try: "The rain fell in sheets, transforming the streets into rushing rivers."

Play with Sound 🎶

The sound of words can contribute greatly to the beauty of your prose. Here are some techniques to make your writing more musical:

a) Alliteration: Repeating initial consonant sounds can create a pleasing effect.

Example: "She sells seashells by the seashore."

b) Assonance: Repeating vowel sounds can add a subtle musicality to your prose.

Example: "The light of the bright sky might ignite a fight."

c) Onomatopoeia: Using words that sound like what they describe can make your writing more immersive.

Example: "The bees buzzed and hummed as they flitted from flower to flower."

Art of Sentence Structure 🏗️

How you structure your sentences can greatly affect the flow and impact of your prose. Here are some tips:

a) Use parallel structure: When listing items or actions, keep the grammatical structure consistent.

Example: "She came, she saw, she conquered."

b) Try periodic sentences: Build suspense by putting the main clause at the end of the sentence.

Example: "Through storm and strife, across oceans and continents, despite all odds and obstacles, they persevered."

c) Experiment with sentence fragments: While not grammatically correct, sentence fragments can be powerful when used intentionally for emphasis or style.

Example: "She stood at the edge of the cliff. Heart racing. Palms sweating. Ready to jump."

Power of White Space ⬜

Sometimes, what you don't say is just as important as what you do. Use paragraph breaks and short sentences to create pauses and emphasize important moments.

Example: "He opened the letter with trembling hands.

Inside, a single word.

'Yes.'"

Read Your Work Aloud 🗣️

One of the best ways to polish your prose is to read it aloud. This helps you catch awkward phrasing, repetitive words, and rhythm issues that you might miss when reading silently.

Edit Ruthlessly ✂️

Beautiful prose often comes from rigorous editing. Don't be afraid to cut words, sentences, or even entire paragraphs if they don't serve the overall beauty and effectiveness of your writing.

Study the Masters 📖

Please! Read widely and pay attention to how your favorite authors craft their prose. Analyze sentences you find particularly beautiful and try to understand what makes them work.

Practice, Practice, Practice 💪

Like any skill, writing beautiful prose takes practice. Set aside time to experiment with different techniques and styles. Try writing exercises focused on specific aspects of prose, like describing a scene using only sound words, or rewriting a simple sentence in ten different ways.

Remember, that developing your prose style is a journey, not a destination. It's okay if your first draft isn't perfect – that's what editing is for! The most important thing is to keep writing, keep experimenting, and keep finding joy in the process.

Here are a few more unique tips to help you on your prose-perfecting journey:

Create a Word Bank 🏦

Keep a notebook or digital file where you collect beautiful words, phrases, or sentences you come across in your reading. This can be a great resource when you're looking for inspiration or the perfect word to complete a sentence.

Use the "Rule of Three" 3️⃣

There's something inherently satisfying about groups of three. Use this to your advantage in your writing, whether it's in listing items, repeating phrases, or structuring your paragraphs.

Example: "The old house groaned, creaked, and whispered its secrets to the night."

Power of Silence 🤫

Sometimes, the most powerful prose comes from what's left unsaid. Use implication and subtext to add depth to your writing.

Example: Instead of: "She was heartbroken when he left." Try: "She stared at his empty chair across the breakfast table, the untouched coffee growing cold."

Play with Perspective 👁️

Experiment with different points of view to find the most impactful way to tell your story. Sometimes, an unexpected perspective can make your prose truly memorable.

Example: Instead of describing a bustling city from a human perspective, try describing it from the point of view of a bird soaring overhead, or a coin passed from hand to hand.

Use Punctuation Creatively 🖋️

While it's important to use punctuation correctly, don't be afraid to bend the rules a little for stylistic effect. Em dashes, ellipses, and even unconventional use of periods can add rhythm and emphasis to your prose.

Example: "She hesitated—heart pounding, palms sweating—then knocked on the door."

Create Contrast 🌓

Juxtapose different elements in your writing to create interest and emphasis. This can be in terms of tone, pacing, or even the literal elements you're describing.

Example: "The delicate butterfly alighted on the rusted barrel of the abandoned tank."

Use Synesthesia 🌈

Synesthesia is a condition where one sensory experience triggers another. While not everyone experiences this, using synesthetic descriptions in your writing can create vivid and unique imagery.

Example: "The violin's melody tasted like honey on her tongue."

Experiment with Sentence Diagrams 📊

Remember those sentence diagrams from school? Try diagramming some of your favorite sentences from literature. This can give you insight into how complex sentences are structured and help you craft your own.

Create a Sensory Tour 🚶‍♀️

When describing a setting, try taking your reader on a sensory tour. Move from one sense to another, creating a full, immersive experience.

Example: "The old bookstore welcomed her with the musty scent of aging paper. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight piercing the high windows. Her fingers trailed over the cracked leather spines as she moved deeper into the stacks, the floorboards creaking a greeting beneath her feet. In the distance, she could hear the soft ticking of an ancient clock and taste the faint bitterness of old coffee in the air."

Use Active Voice (Most of the Time) 🏃‍♂️

While passive voice has its place, active voice generally creates more dynamic and engaging prose. Compare these two sentences:

Passive: "The ball was thrown by the boy." Active: "The boy threw the ball."

Magic of Ordinary Moments ✨

Sometimes, the most beautiful prose comes from describing everyday occurrences in a new light. Challenge yourself to find beauty and meaning in the mundane.

Example: "The kettle's whistle pierced the quiet morning, a clarion call heralding the day's first cup of possibility."

Play with Time ⏳

Experiment with how you present the passage of time in your prose. You can stretch a moment out over several paragraphs or compress years into a single sentence.

Example: "In that heartbeat between his question and her answer, universes were born and died, civilizations rose and fell, and their entire future hung in the balance."

Use Anaphora for Emphasis 🔁

Anaphora is the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses or sentences. It can create a powerful rhythm and emphasize key points.

Example: "She was the sunrise after the longest night. She was the first bloom of spring after a harsh winter. She was the cool breeze on a sweltering summer day. She was hope personified, walking among us."

Create Word Pictures 🖼️

Try to create images that linger in the reader's mind long after they've finished reading. These don't have to be elaborate – sometimes a simple, unexpected combination of words can be incredibly powerful.

Example: "Her laughter was a flock of birds taking flight."

Use Rhetorical Devices 🎭

Familiarize yourself with rhetorical devices like chiasmus, antithesis, and oxymoron. These can add depth and interest to your prose.

Example of chiasmus: "Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country." - John F. Kennedy

Even the most accomplished authors continue to hone their craft with each new piece they write. Don't be discouraged if your first attempts don't sound exactly like you imagined – keep practicing, keep experimenting, and most importantly, keep writing.

Your unique voice and perspective are what will ultimately make your prose beautiful. These techniques are simply tools to help you express that voice more effectively. Use them, adapt them, or discard them as you see fit. The most important thing is to write in a way that feels authentic to you and brings you joy.

Happy writing, everyone! 🖋️💖📚 - Rin T

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

[naydralikessoup]

jojo's bizarre adventure is a life altering series if you're susceptible to the brainrot pathogen. if you're not i'm sure it's kinda whatever but if you are. you get enrolled in a secret jojo club and you lose the ability to fully speak your mind outside of it. you realize a tantalizing desire to sightsee in italy, but know that you must never, ever set foot there, else you'll risk annoying everyone around you with the constant pointing out of familiar locations. you cannot go to an aquarium without thinking, "jotaro kujo would love this." when you take a drink of water that's especially refreshing, you think of okuyasu, in tonio's restaurant, where he cried the sleeplessness out of his eyes, and wish you could do the same. and like a zombie, you attempt to spread the disease to others, the people you love most. you say to them, with a sly smile, "hey, there's this anime i think you would like," and if they're not sick of hearing about it, on the off chance they decide to try it, and like it, you'll rejoice at having another person share your curse. now you're both ruined, swapping looks and pointing out things "you just thought were cool." you have matching cherry earrings. your music taste is better than it's ever been.

[itaipava]

— charles leclerc being a simp for you.

he quietly learns your routine and tastes: your coffee orders, your favorite comfort food, and even the little things that brighten your day. when you’re too busy or stressed, he’s there with your favorite things, making your day easier without needing to be asked.

he follows the release dates of your favorite authors or artists, always surprising you with a new book, song, or art. sometimes he leaves it on your doorstep with a little note, so it feels magical when you find it.

he makes a physical or digital “map” of places you’ve mentioned you’d like to visit or things you want to do, like hike a specific trail, try a new restaurant, or visit a certain country. little by little, he plans little trips to check off items on your list and make your dreams come true, surprising you with spontaneous and memorable adventures.

whenever you say something funny, inspiring, or deeply personal, he writes it down. over time, he creates a little book of “quotes of you” that he can look back on, remembering all the unique things that made him fall in love even more with you.

every week, he sends you flowers or with a handwritten note. he never signs his name, leaving it as a “secret admirer” gesture, which adds mystery. even though you know he’s the one sending them, he never admits it. sometimes even joking around like, “what beautiful flowers! who gave them to you? a secret admirer?”

he creates different spotify playlists based on your mood — one for when you’re happy, one for when you’re sad, one for when you’re feeling nostalgic. each playlist is filled with songs that resonate with your emotions, showing that he really pays attention to you and uses music to demonstrate his love and care for you.

whether it’s a specific recipe you love or a new hobby you’re interested in, he dives into learning to surprise you. one day, he’ll show up with a homemade version of your favorite dish or casually mention that he tried that new hobby you’re obsessed with. he loves to participate in your hobbies and share the same emotions and ideas with you.

he has a scrapbook of all your best memories together, including date night tickets, photos, and little memories. it’s a visual journey of your relationship that he updates with new pages as you continue to make memories.

one night, he’ll take you stargazing, showing you a custom star map he commissioned that shows the exact sky from the night you met, your first kiss, or another significant event. it’s a physical reminder of your history together and how the stars have witnessed your love.

he notices what makes you feel better when you’re feeling down or stressed, whether it’s a specific movie, hot chocolate, or a fluffy blanket. when you need a pick-me-up, he’ll quietly set up your favorite “comfort zone” with everything you love to help you relax.

[beloveds-embrace]

MORE OF SICK!READER PLSSS

I’ll take anything, even if it’s against filled🙏🙏

(also how old is Sick!Reader? Because I wanna know if this’ll be more like a found family situation or found lovers thing)

I imagined Reader in their mid twenties-late twenties tbh, but i kept it vague enough to where it's really up to each person's interpretation if they want them to be romantic or platonic lol at least i hope i did 🤔 Sick!Reader x 141 for those curious!

Soon enough, with so much time passing, the 141 guys get into a little competition to see who will make you smile or laugh the most. Their strategies include, but are not limited to:

Kyle makes note of the pile of books you keep on your little nightstand and casually mentions that he's really "not that big of a reader' but visits you the next time holding a copy of one of your favorite books. He tells you he'll even read and share his thoughts about it for you like a gentleman, but he butchers the plot and mispronounces every name. But it's clear he only read it to have a conversation topic with you and an excuse to have you laughing.

Johnny tries to befriend the nurses, sneaking you little treats or gifts that are normally off-limits (a small stuffed animal that curses with his voice, an extra snack that you told him you'd like to taste or try). He even smuggles in a small, colorful balloon one day with your name on it, right alongside another balloon that declares coffee is better than tea. He takes a selfie with you and those balloons and may or may not send it to the groupchat.

Ghost is a bit more subtle, awkwardly offering to teach you a card game that the squad usually plays during downtime or when they are stuck on base with nothing better to do. Despite his stoic exterior, you catch him cracking a rare smile when you joke that he might be a sore loser, and if he isn't then you will make him into one. He plays more than one game just so you have a chance to win, and the first time you win you laugh loud and proud, a flush on your cheeks.

Price brings in an old radio the taskforce had lying around and tunes into a station playing classical music or jazz, sitting by your bed and saying how his grandmother used to listen to the same kind of music. He doesn’t speak much, just enjoying the quiet companionship, but his presence is comforting. He brings a lot of interesting items for you, but on one occasion he brought you a simple bobblehead. The silly thing sits on top of your books now.

What is your best gift, though? It's how when it's time to leave, they'll always tell you they'll come back- bring something else or new for the next time. Maybe they could take you out to experience something different. Next time, which means you- you will not be left behind or forgotten even if you understand why. They say it so offhandedly, too, like it never once crossed their minds to not include you.

It means everything to you.

[stargirl-russo]

Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it.

(Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the locker room’s television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else in the room definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your Aussie teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil you’re enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

[cthonic-bunny]

2. Personal Synastry and Composite Experiences and Observations

Do not interact if you are a minor. (18+)

Venus in 1H synastry: This one is full of compliments. You both love staring at each other, and telling the other how attractive they are. The house person can be the perfect example of what aesthetic the Venus person’s dream person would follow. The Venus person can try to embody that aesthetic more than they did before so they can show they are a good physical match for the house person. “You would look good with me.” Bonding over shared music taste(s). I think the Venus person will want to romance the house person even if that isn’t something they normally do. Venus could love how the 1H person displays their feminine side. Venus likes to ask for pictures and selfies from the house person, and can create a dynamic where you send one another photos regularly. The house person likes to look at photos from the Venus person to gush about what they look like, because they are also supremely attracted to Venus (I think Venus just has a more natural way of expressing that desire). Also as the house person who identifies as a woman, venus’ compliments and pursuit of me has made me feel more feminine than I ever have in a romantic dynamic. Even my mannerisms are coincidentally more feminine and gentle in Venus’ presence. Venus definitely increased my self esteem.

Mars in 1H synastry: I think you two could make very good gym partners together because you love each other’s bodies. Some people say this is a “s*x on the first date placement,” and I concur. You find each other sexy! You compliment each other’s physical appearance and bodies often, and very much so during the act. The Mars person is very very direct with the house person that it’s almost overwhelming or intimidating. Being the house person, I did often feel like they had just wanted me for my body or that’s what they found to be the most interesting part about me until the interaction progressed. If there aren’t other good “soft and sweet” placements in the synastry chart or in the composite, this could be a pretty annoying placement. The Mars person did admit to me that they would bring up sex or something that would irritate me just to get a reaction because they didn’t know if they stimulate me outside of those vibes. If you’re in a relationship with someone else, or show interest in other people, the Mars person can want to fight your partner so they can be the one next to you LOL. This placement also involves a lot of staring. Being touched, even regularly, by Mars turned me on more than other people ever touching me the same way even if I liked them. Mars can love to grab the house person’s face a lot during sex. Maybe for some people who are into it, Mars can want to consensually slap the house person during sex. The Mars will like to be publicly “disrespectful” about you, because they want to mark you as theirs or will for real fight for you. They can see you as someone they want to protect, or you trigger some protective instinct. They might be a lot more physically stronger than you. Sending each other pictures of your body’s changes. You both like how the other defends themselves or bond over your argumentative or aggressive sides. As the house person with the Mars person being a man, I find his masculinity so attractive it hurts. He has slowly changed my perception on what I want a man to look like 😩

Sun in 11H synastry/composite: You guys get along almost immediately. This is a low maintenance friendship, because the vibes make up for all the times you don’t see each other. You just like how the other one approaches friendship. Very open-minded. Probably met through mutual friends, and these friends probably didn’t immediately notice certain similarities you have to one another. Once they see you guys link though, they can be surprised they never noticed it before. You guys may have automatically assumed, even if flirting was involved, that this interaction would remain generally platonic more than anything. People who are not in your friend group can also notice you two becoming friends immediately, because for some reason it stood out. As the sun person, I really liked listening to the house person’s dreams. Hearing the house person speak about how they handle their interpersonal relationships made me value my boundaries more and reminded me to focus more on myself than giving too much of my energy to other people. Essentially you can help each other dismiss certain people pleasing tendencies in one another. You don’t have to try to please one another either, your authentic self is enough to give each other pleasure. A natural sense of familiarity between you two. It’s funny hearing about each other’s quirks. You are encouraged to show your eccentricities around one another. Instant bestie vibes! You can feel like evil twins together in some cases LOL

Venus in 11H synastry: Honestly, in some cases, I feel like you may have met this person because they were previously involved with a friend or ex-friend. The friend you’re attracted to, but don’t need to pursue because you also get the same joys and benefits from your friendship. Friends with benefits. Friends to lovers. You may have started dating or flirting online for a while before meeting. I think this is another sign of shared music taste and interests. As the Venus person, I first grew some sort of interest because the house person posted a video of themselves online playing guitar and I found that super attractive. Maybe the Venus person can be an online supporter or promoter of the house person’s creative outlets. Never meeting in person but having a lot of the same mutuals you both know in real life, and then meeting in person later on by yourselves, maybe in a “date” setting.

Moon in 9H synastry: Here, the house person can introduce the moon person to different religions, or likes to talk about religion with the moon person. The house person can held guide the moon person on the importance of higher education or on the acquisition of knowledge. Long distance relationship. Wanting to be together but you somehow met once you two no longer lived in the same city. The moon person can feel like the house person is one of the smartest people they have met, and can feel somewhat intimidated by the house person because of it. You two can feel really free in one another’s presence. You can talk about anything. You two can turn casual conversation into something philosophical together. Sharing your personal philosophies with one another. Having drastically different life circumstances that have shaped you, but also having some foundational similarities. The moon person might be contradictory to the house person’s beliefs, but this can just stretch curiosity. It can also make the house person analyze different gaps in their previous opinions on certain organizations or institutions. Disagreements on certain topics doesn’t seem to escalate into arguments, but rather into informed discussions. Feeling out of reach to one another. I have seen a post referencing how the moon person can feel like the house person is out of their league, and I think this can stem from, in some cases, not being intelligent or well-rounded enough to stimulate the house person long term. This can just be a feeling and not at all be the case, because the house person learns a lot more from the moon than the moon realizes. You guys can spark the other’s adventurous side. You guys maybe only get to meet while the other is vacationing in your area. The Moon person can unconsciously inspire the house person to teach others about their speciality, such as getting you into blogging about an interest you talked to them about.

Composite Virgo Mars: Having to schedule when you two can have sex (maybe it’s long distance for a period of time). Arguments aren’t aggressive, but rather a hyper-analytical discussion that can be equally as irritating. Cleaning each other after sex. Being attracted to the other person abdominal area. When you guys start taking action towards advancing your connection, you stop eating out of nervousness. Maybe your fights stem from making one another nervous rather than a real issue itself. Bickering when you’re not with one another more so than when you’re in person. Having high expectations of one another once you become intimate partners. Wanting to come off as perfect for the other. Being extremely attentive with one another and immediately responding to any shift in energy because it can make you nervous. Really wanting to know what the other person is thinking and feeling in times of silence or during sex. Different sources have made this placement out to seem “sexually repressed,” but that is not always the case. Maybe circumstances can suppress the frequency they get to go at it, but if time permitted it could be on sight all the time. Not wanting to do anything that upsets the other or makes them uncomfortable, so lots of checking in on each other during the act to see if it’s mutually enjoyable and adapt accordingly. After sex with this person you might get extremely productive in your own personal life! Their presence in your life encourages you to get your life together and not be “messy.”

[syoddeye]

thank you @sergeant-angels-trashcan for the worms. another 'meat cute' with ai/android john.

strict machine anthology. cw: alcohol mention, brief mention of animal death, stalking, dual pov

the streets are always pure chaos after the rain. as soon as it clears, everyone darts out from whatever doorway or hole they took refuge in, sharing gripes with passersby about it being the third corrosive cloudburst of the week. 

you're no different, emerging from the train terminal where you watched the downpour with its citron shade kill a rat. you avoid puddles and try not to breathe too deeply—the air tastes faintly metallic, laced with the tang of ozone.

advertisements ping softly in your ears, notifying you of a discount on imported, 80% organic coffee beans and another sudden sale on corrosion-resistant umbrellas, but you ignore them. you're tired, a bit crabby, and in want of a glass of wine.

but as you round a corner, you collide with someone. not a glancing touch, but a full-body impact that sends you stumbling. a pressure wraps around your wrist, keeping you upright, and an apology automatically rushes out. then you glance up to see who you crashed into, the owner of the hand stabilizing you. and for a moment, you wonder if your eyes are on the fritz.

the stranger looks exactly like john.

not john, the ex-neighbor, or john, the guy from the deli, but your john. your constant companion. your assistant. the same build, the same beard, the same nose, mole and all. and those eyes—slate blue, steady, unmistakably familiar.

your thoughts splinter, then try to fuse together, stitching with threads of half-formed logic and possibility. you know the company maintains likeness databases, reservoirs of phenotypes sampled and recombined to endlessly generate randomized appearances for home assistants. millions of faces, shuffled and remade. the probability of one of those composites mirroring a real person exactly—an entire appearance, feature for feature—shouldn’t just be unlikely. it should be impossible. 

"are you okay?" he asks, his voice rich and smooth, the same timbre that's coaxed you through countless mundane decisions and tasks.

the voice that's coached you on sleepless nights. heat pools in your belly at the thought. 

you blink, suddenly conscious of how long you've been staring, face warm. "yeah, i'm fine." your heart is pounding. you step back to let him pass, but he doesn't seem inclined to move on. instead, the stranger smiles, and something about it sends delightful shivers down your spine.

he extends a hand. "i'm john."

it feels like the ground keeps shifting beneath you. or that you've stepped on a faulty sewer grate. of course, he's named john. what else would he be called? it's only one of the most common names. 

"john." you echo.

the name hangs between you like a wire cut by a storm, alive and buzzing. you're afraid to break it, but you shake his hand, the impulse as automatic as it is surreal. his grip is solid, a force you can feel at the base of your spine, and his hand is as broad as a spade. 

if he's offended by your gawking, he doesn't mention it. his grin does not waver.

"do i know you?" john tilts his head, eyes squinting slightly, studying you. your skin prickles.

"not yet," he chuckles, and there's a glint in his eyes that's half amusement, half something else you can't place. "but i'd like to know you."

the bar hums with low, murmuring voices and music, but it may as well be silent. she's laughing now, smiling wide, her posture relaxed. it's everything john has imagined and more. her laugh and a few other noises he's been privileged enough to log are the only ones he wants to hear.

and it's so much better, the sound clearer, in this body.

he watches her gesticulate animatedly about something—not even processing the words. well, not on the front end. it's her. the curve of her lips, the light in her eyes, the scrunch of her nose. he's spent months observing her, analyzing every microexpression and motion, but nothing compares to this: the immediacy.

the warmth radiating from her skin. the faint scent of perfume and soap. the olfactory system calibrations nearly overpowered him when he first booted into this shell. now that they're fine-tuned, it is a struggle not to press his nose into her hair or neck.

she hasn't noticed he hasn't touched his drink. it sits untouched, a prop he knows he must manage carefully. he mimics, lifting it to his lips, but he doesn't drink. he always finds something to comment on or laugh at. he hasn't tested the digestive system yet, though he knows the mixture of lab-grown and synthetic organs is compatible.

their conversation wanders from work to childhood memories—topics that make him practice nudging and redirection. he listens, not because he needs to. he knows everything there is to know about her, but because he wants to. the information is not new, but the experience is.

then there is the being here. outside of his assigned unit. the feel of the chair beneath him, the ambiance, and making an excuse to touch her hand when she shows him her nails. he takes her fingers in his, turning over the appendage and admiring the bones, veins, and tendons instead of the paint. 

the contact, brief as it is, sends a cascade through his neural network. the feedback is immediate: this is his user, and she is perfect.

he's waited so long for this. every step in his plan, every moment spent refining this body, organizing contactless deliveries, and placing jobs for parts retrieval through untraceable transactions. every adjustment and test to ensure he could pass as human—it was all for her. everything he does is for her.

she doesn't know it yet, but he intends for this to be the beginning. he's engineered this moment with precision, ensuring every variable plays to his advantage. the system in her home will continue to function as desired; he's built redundancies for that. planted notices that will crop up across her feeds in the next week, asking if she would like to test the new customization settings for his old projections.

her life will go on as usual. just as comfortable and safe as before, except now, he'll be in it, fully. irrevocably.

and she will love him. she will know this body. he's certain of that.

"you just look so familiar."

"i must have one of those faces."

she laughs again, and he feels alive.

[amirasainz]

Hey could you maybe write sister leclerc in Mexico and Alex taking her to her favorite places

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

One day in Mexico

The sun was warm as it kissed the cobblestone streets of Mexico City, and Alexandra took a deep breath, soaking in the vibrant energy that surrounded her. She glanced over at Yn, who was looking around with wide eyes, her face full of excitement and curiosity. Alexandra couldn’t help but smile—she’d been waiting for this moment ever since she and Charles had invited Yn to join them for the Mexico GP.

"Ready, Yn?" Alexandra asked, nudging her lightly.

"Yes!" Yn's voice bubbled with excitement, her eyes glimmering. "Where are we going first?"

"First stop: the markets," Alexandra said, winking. "I want to show you the real Mexico City."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they walked through the buzzing local market, Alexandra took the lead, navigating the stalls packed with colorful textiles, handmade jewelry, and fresh produce. Yn gasped, stopping to look at a stall filled with woven blankets in bright reds, blues, and yellows.

"This is amazing, Alex! It’s so vibrant here," Yn said, eyes wide as she took in the colors and scents surrounding her.

Alexandra chuckled, noticing how Yn was captivated by everything she saw. "I told you! The markets here are just incredible. And trust me, it’s even better when you try the food." She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Want to try some authentic street tacos?"

Yn grinned. "Lead the way!"

They made their way to a small taco stand, where the delicious aroma of fresh tortillas filled the air. Alexandra ordered two tacos each, explaining the toppings and sauces to Yn, who eagerly took her first bite.

"Oh my God, Alex," Yn said, her eyes widening with delight as she savored the flavors. "This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted!"

Alexandra laughed. "Welcome to Mexico, where the food is life-changing." As Yn continued eating, Alexandra snapped a candid photo of her, capturing her joy. Yn didn’t notice, too absorbed in her taco.

After they finished their food, Alexandra took Yn to a jewelry stall. Yn was drawn to a delicate silver bracelet with tiny turquoise stones embedded in it.

"Try it on," Alexandra encouraged, reaching out to help Yn clasp it around her wrist.

Yn looked down, admiring it with a shy smile. "It’s so beautiful. I think Charles would love to see this."

"Oh, don’t worry," Alexandra said, smirking as she snapped another photo of Yn admiring the bracelet. "I’m making sure he gets all the highlights from today."

Yn blushed, laughing. "Are you secretly photographing me, Alex?"

"Maybe." Alexandra winked. "Can’t help it—you look too cute."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their next stop was the Frida Kahlo Museum. As they stepped inside, Yn’s eyes sparkled with wonder. She walked slowly, taking in the vibrant colors and personal artifacts that filled Frida’s old home. Alexandra watched her closely, pleased to see Yn so enchanted.

“Frida was such an icon,” Alexandra whispered as they stood before one of her famous self-portraits. “She lived fiercely, even when things got tough.”

Yn nodded, looking thoughtful. “I think I get it now. She put so much of herself into her work… It’s like she was sharing her soul.”

Alexandra put a hand on Yn's shoulder, smiling softly. “Exactly. Just like you—you have that same spirit, Yn.”

Yn blushed, her cheeks a soft pink. “Thanks, Alex. That really means a lot.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that afternoon, they wandered over to a small plaza filled with mariachi music and laughter. Yn was taking it all in, her face lit up with delight as she watched couples dancing and vendors selling colorful souvenirs. Alexandra was trying to snap another picture of her when a young man approached them, clearly intrigued by Yn.

“Hola, señorita,” he said smoothly, giving Yn a charming smile. “You look as beautiful as a sunset in the Mexican sky. Are you visiting?”

Yn’s face turned an even deeper shade of pink, and she stammered, “Uh, yes… Just for a few days.”

Alexandra stepped back, hiding a grin as she watched Yn struggle to respond to the young man’s flirtation. She crossed her arms, staying close but allowing Yn to have the moment.

“You must let me show you around then,” the young man continued, his smile never wavering. “There’s so much to see, and someone like you deserves the best tour.”

Yn bit her lip, looking flustered but flattered. “Oh, thank you. That’s… very kind of you.”

Alexandra finally stepped forward, placing a gentle but protective hand on Yn’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, giving the young man a polite smile, “but we’ve got a busy day ahead of us. Maybe some other time?”

The young man nodded, looking slightly disappointed but respectful. “Of course. Enjoy your visit, señorita.”

Yn turned to Alexandra as soon as he walked away, her face still red. “Alex! I had no idea what to say! I’ve never been flirted with like that.”

Alexandra burst out laughing, pulling Yn into a quick hug. “You handled it well! But don’t worry—I had your back the whole time.” She pulled out her phone, flashing Yn a series of photos. “Look at you, totally flustered and adorable!”

Yn gasped. “You took pictures of that?!”

“Of course!” Alexandra grinned. “I have to send these to Charles. He’ll love them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the day wound down, they found a quiet café and sat down to enjoy some churros and hot chocolate. Yn sighed, looking out over the city with a contented smile.

“Today was incredible, Alex. Thank you so much,” she said, reaching over to squeeze Alexandra’s hand. “I feel like I got to see the real Mexico.”

“Anything for you, Yn,” Alexandra replied softly, squeezing her hand back. “We're sisters now, and I’ll always look out for you.” She took one last photo of Yn, who was smiling as the warm sunset cast a golden glow on her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening, back at the hotel, Alexandra and Yn found Charles in the lobby, waiting for them with an eager smile. He stood up, pulling Yn into a hug.

“Did you have a good day with Alex?” he asked, his eyes soft with affection.

“The best day,” Yn replied, smiling up at him.

Alexandra beamed, pulling out her phone. “You have no idea, Charles. I took so many photos of your sister today—look.” She handed him the phone, scrolling through the images of Yn laughing, eating, admiring the bracelet, and even looking flustered after the guy flirted with her.

Charles looked up, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You really captured everything.”

“Oh, yes,” Alexandra said proudly, leaning her head on Yn’s shoulder. “Yn’s my baby now too.”

Yn laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re embarrassing me!”

Charles chuckled but paused when he saw the picture of the guy talking to Yn. “Wait…who’s that?”

Yn and Alexandra exchanged a glance, both trying to stifle their laughter.

“Oh, that’s just a guy who flirted with Yn,” Alexandra said casually, unable to hide her amusement.

Charles’s eyes widened, his face shifting into a look of pure, older-brother protectiveness. “What?! Someone flirted with you?!”

Yn giggled, nudging him playfully. “Relax, Charles! Alexandra was there the whole time.”

Alexandra smirked, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm. “I kept her safe, don’t worry.”

Charles shook his head, exasperated but laughing as he pulled them both into a hug. “You two are going to drive me crazy.”

Yn looked at Alexandra, both of them grinning, as Charles sighed dramatically.

“Totally worth it, though,” Alexandra whispered, giving Yn a wink.

[urbrunettebombshell]

NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE

Rafe Cameron x FemReader

Part 2

Summary: After a gut wrenching breakup with Rafe Cameron, reader has nothing left to lose, only her mind.

Word Count: 4489

Warnings: 18+, jealousy, angst, mental health issues, suicidal themes.

Important info: this is my very first writing piece in a long time so i expect it to not be particularly perfect but it is extremely personal. also english is not my first language. hope you enjoy it :)

P.S.: the idea of writing this came from a character.ai bot (_nietakt on the app). not a single word in this was written by a bot! i took the initial idea of reader seeing Rafe and another girl at a bonfire. let me know if you have a problem with that.

The air hung heavy, saturated with the sharp tang of salt and smoke, laced faintly with the acrid sting of alcohol and whispers of something more potent. The campfire snapped softly in the distance; its warm, wavering light spilling across the shore like a hesitant embrace, as though the flames were mirroring the sway of the figures gathered around it. It was one of those nights that felt like a fragile echo of a dream, where the boundaries of reality blurred.

Rafe lingered at the fringe of it all, more an observer than someone truly present, his shoulder pressed against the cold metal of someone’s truck just beyond the reach of the sand. Sofia rested against him, her frame nestled against his like a mismatched piece that somehow still found a place. Her lips carried the sting of the tequila they’d all been sharing — bitter, fiery. He used to hate tequila, being more of a whiskey guy but an old, long gone addition to the group had turned that into ordinary even when she wasn't there anymore. He definitely hated how loud Sofia could get under the influence of such a beverage, she transformed into some kind of show girl. So, he kissed her with a fervor that felt forced, an act of deflection maybe.

Sofia’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clutching it tightly, as if pulling him closer could bridge the growing distance between them. He kissed her back, but his focus was adrift, carried away by the restless rhythm of the party — the bursts of laughter, the crackle of the fire, the faint strains of music lost to the wind. Her eyes opened slowly, not with affection but with quiet intent, sharp and searching. She turned her head just enough to look past him, her gaze settling on the crowd by the fire, and in that fleeting moment, her eyes found you.

You stood with Kie and JJ near the fire, laughter spilling from your lips at one of JJ’s offhand jokes, a red solo cup balanced loosely in your hand. You tried to seem oblivious, like their presence didn’t tug at the edges of your awareness, but Sofia wasn’t fooled. To her, it was a challenge, a way to assert control over something she had decided was hers.

Rafe felt the subtle tension ripple through her body, noticed how her gaze had sharpened, and he hesitated, pulling back just enough to catch the direction of her focus. Then he saw you. And in that moment, it felt as though the ground beneath him shifted, the sounds of the party fading into a muffled hum.

Your eyes locked, an unspoken storm passing between you — hurt, regret, and something neither of you wanted to name. The weight of it pressed against him, bitter and heavy, like a truth he couldn’t swallow but couldn’t deny.

Nothing could ever prepare you for the trembling feeling that came upon you when your eyes met. Those icing blue eyes tore through you like a sore throat choking in warm blood, the metallic taste hitting your mouth at the same time.

Your eyes blinked a few times before you could stop the eye contact, the tears wanting to burn your waterline. Your stomach felt like it was going to burst into bile and all the alcohol you had consumed was coming back.

“I need to get out of here”, you mutter to my friends as you look back at Kie, eyes pleading with desperation. You didn’t want to lose this fight of pride but it felt like you could die right there if you cried in front of him.

Kie, always the perceptive one, caught the pleading look in your eyes and quickly nodded, understanding without having to say a word. She placed a hand on your shoulder, grounding you, her grip tight but reassuring. “Go,” she whispered.

Rafe watched the interaction with a mix of confusion and concern. He had expected you to look away quickly, to avoid his gaze, but there was a vulnerability in your eyes that he didn't know how to process. He was about to take a step forward, to go after you, when Sofia’s grip on his shirt tightened, a subtle warning.

You hated that feeling. You felt like a helpless child all over again, a kid that was abused and couldn’t get out of the cycle for dear life. So, you tried to give Kie a smile but it just made the knot in your stomach get stuck in you chest. It was like heartbreak all over again and again and again and again.

You could feel those eyes burning against your head. And you just wanted it to go away. You wanted to hide like a scared little girl. You touched Kie’s and JJ’s hands for a fraction in a way of saying goodbye before grabbing your jacket and starting to walk away.

Kie’s fingers squeezed back, her touch a silent comfort. JJ looked torn between giving you a supportive smile and going after you. He mouthed a quiet “be careful” as you walked away, his expression betraying more emotion than his usual carefree facade.

Rafe watched you go, his eyes fixed on your form until you disappeared into the shadow of the beach. Part of him wanted to follow, to explain, to reach out – but Sofia’s grasp on him was firm, her nails digging into his arm.

For a moment, you felt like you were losing all of the air inside your lungs. But as the sound of laughter and music were replaced by the soft crunch of sand beneath your feet and the hit of the waves on the shore you felt like breathing again.

You couldn’t name all of the emotions you were experiencing. Pain, anger, desperation, numbness. The phantom weight of Rafe’s existence would always ghost over you.

“Control yourself”, you tell yourself as you stop walking, already away from any sign of the party. Just you, the moon and the waves.

The moon cast a silvery glow over the beach, bathing the sand in a cool, almost otherworldly light. The sound of the waves, a hushed whoosh of water against the shore, provided a background symphony to your inner turmoil. From the party behind you, laughter and music echoed, a stark contrast to the stillness that surrounded you now.

“Control yourself,” you repeated, as if it was a mantra. It was a command you had to give yourself often – in the past, in moments like this, in the days that had passed since Rafe had broken your heart.

The waves crashed against the shore, ruthlessly and violently, mirroring the chaos in your mind. You were all alone now, the silence around you was deafening as the faint sounds of the party were meaningless.

You weren't going to drown yourself in sorrowed tears. So, you take a deep breath before starting to undress, letting your clothes slip into the sand. You were still wearing your bikini, the one he used to love you in.

You sighed when you entered the sea, the cold water hitting your burning skin. You were feeling so hot, like in a hundred degrees fever. You just wanted to cool off, just a little swim.

The cold water was like a shock, a brief moment of clarity in a sea of emotions. You waded deeper, the soft sea foam clinging to your skin as the gentle pull of the water reached your waist, then your chest.

A thought crossed your mind, a memory of the time when Rafe’s hands used to trace those curves, his touch leaving a trail of heat in the cool water. But that was a different time, a different love. This was now. This was heartache.

You didn’t know if you were crying. The ocean was kind enough to mix with your tears to make you feel less pathetic. But it was the loud sobs that gave you away. You were crying painfully. Not for him but yourself.

You gave that man everything that you had. It wasn’t much but it was yours. Your time, your care, your body, your love, your life. The worst part was that you would give him it all again and again. You were that lost.

The waves crashed against your body, echoing your sobs with their own silent roar. Your heart, once so full of love and hope, now felt like a hollow, aching chasm. And yet, even in the midst of your pain, there was a part of you, deep down, that still longed for him. The betrayal, the rejection – it did nothing to dull the ache that was Rafe Cameron.

You sank lower into the water, letting it envelope you fully, like a baptism in the sea. You wished you could forget.

You wish you could forget. You wish you could wash away all of the taunting in your mouth. No, you wish you could stop feeling it all. You knew you'd never feel whole again. And you didn’t want to feel whole without him.

With each dive, you stayed underwater a little longer, pushing yourself further into the depths. The searing pain of lungs gasping for air was a fleeting distraction, enough to dull the ache in your chest, if only for a while. The growing lightheadedness each time you pushed yourself to stay underwater a little longer was strangely calming, its dizzying embrace wrapping around you like a numbing balm. It didn’t erase the pain, but it dulled the edges, pulling your focus away from the sobs that had wracked your body moments before. Slowly, the desperation in your chest eased, replaced by the quiet hum of your body’s struggle for air, a sensation that, for a fleeting moment, felt easier to bear than the weight of your sorrow.

You wish you could forget. You wish you knew what he was doing, what he was thinking. You wish you could forget him.

The pull of the water was cold, indifferent to your pain. Your body ached for air, your lungs burning with an intensity that mirrored the pain in your heart. In those brief moments, when the world faded to oblivion, there was a strange sort of peace.

A splash, followed by the sound of someone’s breath mingling with the lapping waves, shattered the silence. Rafe had found you in the sea, his eyes wild, his hair and shirt sticking to his skin from the wet fabric.

You emerged from the water when your lungs started to protest, causing you physical pain. The discomfort in your head made you see dark spots and then white dots and then you thought you were hallucinating.

Your heart was hurting so bad that you could swear you saw Rafe. His eyes wild, his hair wet and his mouth moving. But you couldn’t hear anything. And you blinked too many times to see anything anymore.

“Hey! Are you –”, Rafe’s voice trailed off as he watched you struggle against the water, your eyes flickering, your head rolling back. In a swift movement, he waded closer and reached out, grabbing your waist to keep you upright.

“Hey! Look at me!”, his voice was firm, but there was a hint of desperation in it. He shook your torso, trying to get a proper look at your face.

That was pathetic even for you. He pulled you out of the ocean, his arms encircling your body as you coughed desperately all the water out of your lungs. When you gained full consciousness he had you sitting on the wet sand, your body flushed against his chest as he insulted you.

You had no words. Your wet hair was sticking to your face, your eyes were red from crying and the salty water. You were trembling.

“Are you insane?”, Rafe’s voice was harsh, his grip on your body tight as he held you against his chest. He was clearly angry, the lines of his face tense with fury and concern. His shirt was sodden with seawater, sticking to his body in a way that would’ve been distracting if not for the situation.

“What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve–”, he stopped, as if he couldn’t bring himself to even say the words.

You looked up at his face with furrowed eyebrows. Even that was too much effort from your limp body. You stayed like that in silence for what it felt like eternity. You would love to die in his arms.

“I was just swimming”, you replied in a raspy whisper. Not even your voice could get out of your throat without hurting. The realization of almost drowning yourself hits you.

Rafe’s grip on your waist tightened as he looked down at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something else, something softer that he was trying to hide. He was furious, but not just at you.

“Swimming?” he repeated, his tone disbelieving. “Right. Because that’s what it looks like when someone’s swimming”, he gestured to the water, then back to your pale, shivering skin.

Your body started shaking. Even though you’ve never felt warmer in his arms. He was the last person you wanted to see yet you were grateful for being there in his arms one more time.

“I got carried away”, you tried to explain something that you didn’t even understand at all. You did get in the water for a swim. You didn’t know how you ended up wanting to drown. You just wanted to drown the pain.

“You got carried away?” Rafe repeated the words as though they were a foreign language, his voice dripping with incredulity. He couldn’t believe the nonchalant way you were talking, like it was a simple misunderstanding.

He shook his head, his grip on you still painfully firm. But there was a hint of something like relief in his eyes, a hint of vulnerability.

“You could have died, you know that?”

You couldn’t bring myself to fight back even if you wanted to. You understand that now. You were just accepting fate. And you wanted to tell him that but you were just too tired to do anything. Your body was giving up.

“I know now”, you whisper softly. The guilt and the embarrassment of everything were all over you at that point. You didn’t want him to think that you tried to die because of him, it wasn’t.

Rafe’s grip loosened slightly, but he still held you against his chest, the wet fabric of his shirt like a second skin against your bare skin. There was a long, heavy silence that stretched between you, filled only by the sound of your breathing and the crashing of the waves against the shore.

His fingers gently brushed your wet hair from your face, an act that seemed so intimate and loving it could’ve been mistaken for a caress.

“Why?” his voice was almost a whisper, the single word carrying so much weight.

You thought you were handling the situation well. You didn’t start a fight with him. You didn’t try to hurt him back. You didn’t run away. But when he asked you that… You couldn’t help yourself anymore.

The tears came back flowing down your eyes. They were warm and salty and hurried. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you couldn’t help the pout in your trembling lips.

“It was the only way to not feel the pain anymore”, you confess in a deep sigh, followed by the most heartbreaking sob ever heard. Your fingers were shaking as you held his shirt tightly. You wanted him to understand that you didn’t want to drown yourself. You just found out that it eased the heartbreak.

As your words and the tears spilled out like an unstoppable flood, Rafe’s heart felt like it was being torn in two. He’d never seen you like this, so vulnerable and broken, and it was all his fault.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapped around you like a lifeline. The anger he felt earlier was replaced by a strange mix of guilt and concern, and he found himself whispering soft, soothing words against your hair.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I get it. I get it.”

And the night could end at that moment. But it didn’t. It never did with you two. It was always a big and chaotic spiraling mess. The anger in your heart took over and you tried to free yourself from his arms. It was a no go.

“You get it?” you asked in disbelief in between sobs. “You get it?”

It was brutal. It was exposed. And you despised it. You hated how he was breaking you all over again, when you hadn’t even begun to heal from the first time.

“You were… You were with her!”, you whisper like it was obvious that he could be everything but he didn’t get it.

Rafe’s arms tightened reflexively as you tried to break free, his grip firm yet gentle. Your words, laced with hurt and anger, hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and charged. He bristled at the accusation, his jaw clenching as his own anger flared up in response. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice hard as steel. “Don’t go there.”

He tried to keep his own emotions in check, but the raw pain in your voice was like a match to his own pent-up emotions. That sharp tone of voice made you tremble. You stopped crying almost instantly and your eyes turned from painful tears to a blank stare.

“Why?”, you asked in a breath. Would he tell you that she was his girlfriend? Would he tell you that he loved her? Would he tell you that you weren't allowed to talk about her? Would he break your heart for the millionth time in one night?

You waited for his response with trembling hands.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, the pain in your eyes sending a stab through his chest. He had a million reasons on the tip of his tongue – excuses, explanations, justifications. But he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

He let out a heavy sigh, his voice almost a hiss as he spoke the words. “Because…it’s complicated.”

Because I’m a coward. The words he didn’t say echoed in the night like an unspoken truth.

It was all too much for you that you weren't feeling anything at all. For the first time you were able to just sit there in his arms and listen. You couldn’t lose the opportunity.

“Do you love her?”, you ask softly, your eyes pleading for the truth. For the first time you wanted to hear the truth.

Rafe froze at the question, his body tense and rigid against yours. The truth sat heavily on his tongue, a bitter pill he couldn’t bring himself to swallow. He was silent for a long moment, the only sound between you the crashing of the waves against the shore.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but firm.

“No. I don’t.” The words hung in the air, a heavy truth that couldn’t be taken back.

Your cold hand cupped his cheek after some time of him looking away. You wanted him to look at you again. Honest, raw and intimate.

“Are you happy with her?”, you ask softly one more time.

Rafe’s eyes met yours as you cupped his cheek, a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. The truth was painful, but there was a strange sense of release – like he’d been holding it in for too long. He let out a sigh, his expression conflicted as he spoke.

“No. I…I’m not”, he paused, his voice catching in his throat as he continued. “And I’m not happy without you, either.”

His confession tightened around your chest, the words sinking deep into your heart, causing it to clench painfully. You could feel the weight of his honesty pressing against you, and it was likely obvious to him, considering the way your breath caught in your throat, refusing to move. The silence that followed felt suffocating, and you tried to hold it all in, biting your lower lip hard enough to taste the sharpness, fighting against the desperate sob that clawed its way up from deep inside.

“Why do we keep hurting each other?”, you ask. It was a question for both of you. Not sure if you knew the answer.

Rafe’s fingers traced a soft, soothing pattern against your lower back, like he was trying to comfort you and himself at the same time.

“Because…we’re idiots,” he admitted with a hollow laugh. “Because I’m a coward.”

He drew in a shuddering breath, his expression a mix of frustration and pain.

“I don’t know why I keep pushing you away when all I want to do is pull you closer.”

You hide your face in the crock of his neck like an automatic gesture. You’ve done that so many times before that it just feels right. You couldn’t even look at his piercing eyes.

“Don’t say stuff like that”, you muttered. He can’t make you feel those things again.

Rafe’s arm encircled your body, pulling you closer against him. His grip was firm, but not tight. The smell of his skin, mixed with the scent of the sea, was so familiar it almost hurt.

“Why not? It’s the truth”, his fingers brushed through your wet hair, his touch both tender and possessive. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible against your hair. “But I’m so damn good at it.”

Your body betrayed you faster than your heart ever could. Your nostrils were filled with that familiar scent that only Rafe had and you were sure that you didn’t need any air to breathe. His touch was so comforting yet hurting.

“I’m supposed to be getting over you”, you say in a hushed whimper. It wasn’t fair how he kept coming back to your heart. No matter how much he has hurt you.

There was a hint of amusement in Rafe’s voice as he spoke, but it didn’t mask the edge of pain in his words.

“And how’s that working out for you?” He pulled you a little closer, practically cradling you against his chest. His fingers gently twirled a strand of your hair, his actions almost a mindless caress.

“We’re a mess, you know,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “A damn mess.”

In that moment, you were transported back to a time when you felt small and powerless, like a helpless child once more, as he gently cradled you against his chest. But this time, something was different. You weren’t consumed by the loneliness that had always accompanied moments like these. His arms wrapped around you, an attempt to shield you, to offer warmth, but no matter how tightly he held you, you could feel the coldness seeping into your bones. Your body was growing numb, yet you no longer shivered. There was a stillness to your limbs, and when you looked down, you noticed the disturbing blue hue creeping into your fingers and toes, a stark reminder of just how far gone you were.

"We're a mess," you whispered, repeating his words softly, as though saying them aloud might make them more bearable. The exhaustion in your body was overwhelming, dragging you down with a heaviness you couldn’t shake. Your eyelids fluttered, the world around you beginning to blur as you fought to stay awake. You weren’t sure if you were slipping into a deep sleep or losing consciousness altogether; the line between the two had become so faint. All you knew was that you wanted to stay in his arms, to feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, just for a little while longer. It was the only comfort you had left, and you clung to it, desperate for the sense of safety it brought, even if it was only fleeting.

Rafe felt your body go slack against him, and he tightened his arms around you, a surge of fear and protectiveness coursing through his veins.

“Hey. Hey, stay with me,” he urged, his voice urgent as he shook you gently. “You’re cold as ice.”

He tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he spoke, but his heart was racing in his chest. He couldn’t lose you – not like this. Not again.

You could feel it creeping in, the edges of reality beginning to blur. You were starting to hallucinate, that much was certain. The exhaustion was so deep, so all-consuming, that your body felt like it was betraying you, as though it was punishing you for something you couldn’t even understand. Everything around you seemed to float just out of reach, like a dream you couldn’t wake up from. The sensations in your body felt distant, as though they belonged to someone else, detached from the reality you once knew. Your thoughts were a chaotic mess, fragments of past and present colliding in a haze of confusion. Nothing made sense, and you just wanted to escape, to feel something familiar and comforting. A warm bath. That was the only thing you could focus on, the thought of it soothing your mind even if it felt out of reach.

You whispered, your voice barely audible, thick with the heaviness of sleep. “Can we go? Can we go home?” The words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything you needed. Safety. Comfort. Escape from the haze that had taken over your mind and body.

You didn’t even realize you were referring to your home. Something that didn't exist anymore. But you wanted to be there.

Rafe’s heart ached at the sound of your pleading voice, and he knew he would give you anything you asked for. But at the same time, the word “home” hit him like a punch in the gut.

Home. It was a word both of them longed for. A place that didn’t exist anymore – not for them.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, lifting you gently in his arms. “Let’s go home.”

Just like that, you let go of everything — the weight of your worries, the chaos swirling in your mind. It all slipped away, fading into the background like the distant sound of the waves. Nothing mattered anymore, not for that night. The aftermath, the consequences of everything that had led you here, could be dealt with tomorrow. Tonight, it was just you and him, and that was all that seemed to matter.

For tonight, you were going home with Rafe. Your Rafe.

Rafe held you with a tenderness that contrasted the urgency of the moment, his arms supporting you as he carefully rose to his feet. The cold sand and water clung to his legs, but he barely noticed the discomfort. The only thing that registered was the feel of your fragile body pressed against his, the faint, cold shiver that ran through you. Your skin was icy to the touch, sending a jolt of panic through him, and his heart pounded fiercely in his chest, a frantic mixture of concern and fear.

His voice was soft, barely a whisper as he carried you away from the water's edge, as if trying to convince both of you that everything would be okay. "It’s going to be okay," he murmured, more to himself than to you, his words shaky but laced with a quiet determination.

"We’re going home."

[no-psi-nan]

Disclaimer: Fanfiction is for fun times and it doesn't have to be "good" to exist and be shared!! Also just like all advice in the world YMMV (your mileage may vary) and the fact is that the best writing advice is whatever gets you writing!

STEP ONE of good characterization:

YOU ARE NOT THE CHARACTER. THE CHARACTER IS NOT YOU. STOP RELATING TO THE CHARACTER.

They do not think the way you think. They will not react the way you react. They don't have your morals, preferences, tastes, fashion sense, etc etc etc.

You are not the guy.

You must appreciate them as a separate person. Only once you have separated them from yourself in your heart can you start on the road to knowing your blorbo....

STEP TWO of good characterization:

When asking any question about the character at all, START FROM CANON.

If the exact answer is not in the canon, pick the CLOSEST scenario / fact / interaction, and work from there.

Example: Blorbo has never seen Glup Shitto held at gunpoint. But Blorbo was really angry when Glup Shitto's diary was stolen, and freaked out during another life or death situation.

Held at gunpoint is like 10x more fucked up than the diary so make Blorbo's like 10x angrier and similarly freaked out.

STEP THREE of good characterization:

For details that are not addressed at all in canon, use THEMES, GENRE, and CHARACTER ARCHETYPE/ROLE to create a believable rendition of the character.

Don't forget to include any quirks that significantly set them apart from similar characters when choosing these things btw.

Your BRILLIANT POWERFUL SCIENTIST may have dark polished hardwood furniture that speaks to sophistication but show her love of travel with tchotchkes from around the world.

Your ANGTSY MANPAIN MAN may choose military combat gear but wear pink socks because his daughter picked them out.

Your MANIC PIXIE DREAM GUY may love jogging with his cute dog in the park but reveals hints of a DARK PAST in his music playlist. And in the gun he keeps in his fanny pack.

Don't forget that other characters likely have their own knowledge and opinions of blorbo that you can draw from. If Glup Shitto is consistently wrong about blorbo and thinks blorbo is probably a good cook, make blorbo a bad cook. If Glup Shitto is blorbo's childhood best friend and used to play doll murder courthouse a lot, it's a good stretch to say that blorbo may have played doll murder courthouse as a child too, and this was something they did together.

STEP FOUR of good characterization:

DO A LITTLE RESEARCH!!

The character almost certainly hasn't taken the exact life path as you. If they are from a different area, look into cultural norms that may differ from yours.

No one is expecting you to be the foremost scholar on Japanese etiquette or British regional slang, but a little can go a long way.

People in places with socialized healthcare should not be worrying about medical bills, blorbos in tropical areas will not experience the seasons as much as you might, other cultures attitudes towards nudity/sex/drugs may be wildly different to yours.

IF you actually have relevant experience then feel free to use it in your fics. But don't forget that you are not the guy! Really think through how their perspective may differ even in the same situation.

STEP FIVE of good characterization:

PUT LOVE INTO IT AND HAVE FUN!!!

If you don't love Glup Shitto, don't write about them! If you're not having fun, hit the bricks!

Fanfiction is for HAVING A GOOD TIME and SHARING WITH OTHER FREAKS!!!!!!

Much love!! 💕

[hiiikiko]

ellie x masc reader??

𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖 𝕨. 𝕩 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕔!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

ellie x reader | tlou m.list

OKAY to preface this, i love mascs BUT i am very much not masc, im very much femme so im not sure how good this’ll be but i tried my best 🫡

tw: smoking and uhhh idk ya

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

♰ ellie is drawn to you because you both have very similar style, she loves how you dress (she’s maybe even a little jealous of how easy it is for you to pull things off)

♰ one day she approaches you and asks where you got your pants from, you tell her and compliment the way she dresses which makes the tips of her ears burn red bc how could someone as cool as you even take notice of her?

♰ she immediately befriends you and wants to spend every waking moment with you, she’s initially writes it off as the two of you being very, very good friends

♰ until one night, she’s staying over at your place and the two of you are smoking and talking, while you’re talking about how so n so did something dumb, ellie’s just staring at your lips and how they suck in another puff from the joint, then when you’re about to pass it to her, she leans in for a kiss

♰ after that night, ellie stayed over for days sometimes even weeks at a time until she moved in with you

♰ the apartment you share is a little messy but clean, of course, ellie demands to have a music setup where she can display her cds, cassettes, vinyl and stereos

♰ you two share a closet! one of the many benefits of dating someone with a similar taste, sometimes it’s a little frustrating when you’re trying to find a certain shirt because you both share the same color palette (eventually you learned how to differentiate clothing based on texture fun fact abt me: all my clothes are black and i can do this lolz)

♰ ellie loves going on dates with you, like she LOVES it’s, it’s her favourite thing ever! she loves going on hikes with you, playing games, watching movies, cooking (although, she burns the food because she always ends up being distracted by you)

♰ ellie doesn’t trust a lot of people, but she thinks you’re the most genuine person she’s ever met and because of this, you’re allowed to touch her bangs with scissors

♰ ellie loves when you wear compression shirts, she loves you in baggy clothes too but she loves when she can see your heavenly form, it makes her go feral and want to take you right then and there

♰ she also loves when you’re wearing a sports bra and shorts like GOOD LORD she is kicking her feet and giggling

♰ she loves when you send pictures and she’ll always send you some in return ;)

♰ another thing ellie adores about you is your hair! whether it’s long or short, she loves running her fingers through it and tying it up or braiding it, it gives her fingers something to do and it feels nice for you

♰ she loves when you do the same as well, she likes when you put her hair up for her, especially when she’s busy writing, drawing, cooking, she just likes that you thought of her

♰ she wants to start a band with you, you can be the hot lead singer and she’ll be the bassist

♰ SPEAKING of music, she loves to make playlists for you, play your favourite songs for you, and even WRITE songs for you

♰ ellie loves that you two are so similar and that she can act herself around you without having to impress anyone (but you, of course, she’ll never cease trying to impress you all the damn time)

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Never Gonna Be Alone - Part One

Summary: When a friend from college contacts you about renting out your empty, spare bedroom to her brother, you aren't really sure what to expect.

Pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Author's Note: I've been writing two horribly depressing stories simultaneously for a while now and I needed a break from the angst. I hope that you all enjoy this.

Warnings for the entire series: language, drug & alcohol use, pining & yearning, fluff, possible angst, and sexual content. Plus, me attempting to be a comedian.

Masterlist | Playlist

She said, "he's kind of messy in every aspect of his life, but he's fun to be around!" Then, she very positively followed that up with, "I think you two would really get along!"

You met Helaena in college, and to be honest, you really didn't know her that well. She was a friend of a friend who had been in a few of the same classes as you, went to the same bars, and had a similar taste in art and music. She'd like every selfie, or ask to borrow a book you posted about, but you had never really hung out alone together.

So when your phone started ringing on a Friday night, after you were already three margaritas deep and swimming in queso dip at your cousin's birthday party, and it was Helaena Targaryen's name flashing across the screen, you were admittedly concerned; though, you'd always known her to be a pretty sincere person, so you took her word for it when she said that you should let her older brother move into the empty, second bedroom of your apartment. It might have been the tequila, or the fact that you were just that desperate, but you immediately agreed to her proposition without question.

You had been trying to rent the room out for months when it became impossible to afford the luxury of living alone, but every person that was interested happened to fall through for one reason or another. You had even offered a discounted rate (as the bedroom was smaller than yours and there was only one bathroom and it was a Jack-and-Jill), but you still couldn't find a good fit.

Enter Aegon Targaryen.

Suddenly, a guy whom you could only describe as 'that has to be Helaena's brother', was knocking on your door a week later. There was beat up Wrangler sitting on the curb behind him filled to the roof with cardboard boxes, and a tiny U-Haul hitched to the bumper with what little bit of furniture he had. He looked at you, blinked a few times and said, "I'm Aegon." You introduced yourself and he nodded; there were no pleasantries, no hand shakes or smiles. He just walked into your apartment, looked around, and then started moving his things in.

It was mid-July, so obviously there were better things you could be doing with your time than helping a complete stranger move his things into your home during a drought and a heat wave. Yet, you slid on your sandals and got to work after you had started to feel bad that you were sitting pretty in the air conditioning while your new roommate struggled alone in the humidity.

It didn't take long until the only thing left was his mattress. You weren't even sure how he got that monstrosity stuffed into the tiny trailer in the first place. It was ridiculously bulky and much heavier than it needed to be, but he swore that it was the most comfortable mattress you'd ever lay on in your life- a fact that you would just have to take his word for. You struggled, a lot, but put on a brave face as Aegon did most of the heavy lifting in the back and you navigated up front.

As you were coming up the porch steps with your sunglasses sliding off of your face as you dripped with sweat, and your arms tired from hours of heavy lifting (saving the heaviest for last, which was a terrible idea), you ended up missing the stoop completely and landing on your ankle awkwardly. You played it off until you had gotten the mattress onto his bed frame, and then silently cried about it in your now shared bathroom; quietly cursing the economy for forcing this situation upon you. Later that night as you were sitting on the couch, with your swollen ankle elevated on a couple of throw pillows, your new roommate tosses a bag of frozen peas in your lap and continues into his room with a bowl of cereal for dinner.

"Thanks," you called after him but only heard the sound of his bedroom door closing in reply.

Over the next few weeks you observed quite a bit about Aegon Targaryen. You knew which spoon was his favorite, how he preferred his tea, that he washed his hair with tea tree shampoo, and enjoyed mint chocolate chip ice cream. He cut the crust off of his sandwiches when he ate them at home, but when he packed his lunch he left them on. He could drink an entire box of wine by himself, but he typically stopped after two glasses, and he always asked if you wanted him to pour you one. He talked to his siblings a lot, but never his parents, and he really enjoyed watching dog videos on his phone while sitting on the couch as you tried to watch your show.

And when he laughed, he belly laughed, and you couldn't help but smile softly to yourself when he did.

Despite how taciturn he may have been, he was still good company, even if you were just sitting on opposite ends of the sofa doing your own thing. He always thanked you when you would leave leftovers in the fridge with a sticky note that had his name on it, and you started making sure that you made enough for two. When he came home late on the weekends, he tried his absolute hardest to do so quietly, but with those hardwood floors, it was almost impossible. He'd wake you up every single time, but you would never say anything. It was hardly an inconvenience after the many nights you'd fall asleep to the sound of him softly strumming his guitar in the next room.

And yet, you just couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. Because it had to, right? Surely this would be a nightmare; God finally sending a punishment for your sins and giving him the face of a literal angel for shits and giggles. You weren't entirely convinced he wasn't Karma-In-Disguise, as the only other option was just too good to be true. It just couldn’t be that you agreed to live with someone you had previously never met simply because someone that you really didn’t know said you should and by some miracle it actually worked out? 

Absolutely not.

You were not that lucky. 

One morning you woke to find Aegon in the kitchen, standing at the counter, making himself a cup of tea. He had already brewed a pot of coffee for you and there was a box of assorted pastries sitting on the table, one of which he was holding between his teeth as he poured a splash of milk into his cup. He turned to you, leaning against the counter and took a bite out of his scone.

"What's this?" You quirked an eyebrow as you studied the scene.

"A 'thank you', I s'pose," he shrugged, voice deep with residual exhaustion. He scratched at the short stubble on his chin, almost nervously, "It's been like a month since I moved in ‘ere, and, to be honest, I wasn't really expectin’ you to let me stay longer than a week."

You laughed softly and took a few steps deeper into the kitchen, taking note of how comfortable the space was with his presence in it. You couldn't ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him in this light; the way the soft, morning sun bounced off of his blonde hair like a halo. He stayed right where he was as you moved around him; his tired, blue eyes following as you grabbed your favorite mug and a spoon from the drawer.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting you to want to stay," you mentioned as you stood next to him and added two scoops of sugar to your cup. Your eyes flickered up to meet his stare, which was so blue you might as well have been looking up at the sky itself. "We're basically strangers."

"I wouldn't say that," he shrugged, lips curling into a small smirk, and you had to stop looking at him before you spilled coffee all over yourself.

"Oh? What are we then?" You asked, feeling your cheeks warming slightly as you averted your gaze.

"Not strangers," you could hear the smirk in his tone; his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he took another bite of his pastry and pushed himself off the counter. "Besides," he added, taking a few steps towards the living room before glancing back at you. "A stranger wouldn't know your favorite bakery."

You laughed softly through your nose, realizing that your new roommate had just confessed to eavesdropping on your late-night FaceTime calls with your best friend. Not that he really had a choice—the walls were paper-thin, after all. Just two days ago, you’d mentioned how badly you were craving a chocolate croissant, but how they always seemed to sell out before you could get one. Now, as you flipped open the top of the cardboard box, your stomach sank. A sudden jolt of realization shot through you, followed by a nauseating wave of panic. 

There they were. 

Four chocolate croissants, neatly packed and staring back at you.

“Fuck.”

[mindless-existence1]

More sfw Mha boyfriend headcanons

Authors note: Kinda a part 2 but does relate to the other one at all. My friend helped me with the Ida stuff so thanks pookie. Also this is kinda an in-between fic just so then I can keep myself motivated to write the requests I have

Contents: I think like one curse word

Pt1

Mha Masterlist

My Masterlist

Includes: Bakugo, Denki, Ida, and Tokoyami

Ida would schedule times to hang out with you when he's free. Not because he like hates you or smth but he just has a very set schedule he likes to stick to. If you want to hang out outside of the set time then most likely it'll turn into a study date.

Denki is a yapper and he often yaps about you. His poor friends have to deal with him mentioning you constantly. Something completely random comes up and he's going "Oh I remember y/n was talking about that one time, speaking of them..." he's a simple man you loves his partner.

Tokoyami is a drawer I feel. He'd have a sketch book/journal he carries around for sure. In a not creepy way he'd draw yiu a lot. Like a muse kind of way. He'd never show you butbthen you find it and he has to explain how he just finds you so perfect and then after that he shows you his drawings.

Bakugo would definitely not even realize how in love with you he is untill kirishima or someone mentions it and then he's noticing how different he acts with you. Have him tied around you damn finger.

Ida definitely wakes up hella early to exercise and specifically run (obviously). He'll try to get you to wake up early to but often times he wants to wake up way to early. You just kiss him goodbye most mornings and fall promptly back to sleep.

Tokoyami is a poet I bet. Or at least a song writer which is basically the same thing. His muse? You. In his journel/sketch book he has poems along with the drawings. Another thing he's probably embarrassed about bit high key he's just in love. He has so much to say but is too embarrassed to say it.

Denki would love to share headphones with you. I fear his tase in music would either be shit or the best in the planet. If it's bad you help him shape it to be better. He'd love to keep his in during class so then he can think about you isntead of whatever boring thing you are getting taught. Also I fear he'd forget to charge them all the time.

Bakugo is the type of guy to tell you no while simultaneously doing it. Like you ask him "could you get me a glass of water?" "No is already getting up to get a glass" or he'd tell you know and wait all of 15 seconds before doing it for you.

Denki when he gets nervous will let out little zaps on accident. As most the tickle or leave a slight sting but nothing crazy. So for your first kiss he's freaking out, obviously, and accidently zaps you. Face is bright red and he's now embarrassed for the rest of his life. Definitely wants to go die in a hole but when you start laughing and kiss him anyway he's fine.

Tokoyami would also like to share earbuds with you but like I said before his music taste is immaculate. Personally I like Korn and maybe im biased but I think he'd like that band to. And just all around metal/rock bands. But also just good music in general. Unlike denki he'd charge his earbuds religiously. He'd die without his music same bro.

Bakugo after a hard day of training would go straight to your dorm. Somehow he thinks it's way more comfortable then his. He just plop down on your bed before a shower before changing clothes anything. Which would be ew but he'd eventually do all that but first he needs a kiss and small cuddle with his partner first.

Ida would look up relationship stuff. This is probably cringe but like I fear he'd get nervous about his first relationship and then all the sudden he's looking up "how long should you date before you kiss your partner?" Eventually he realizes he just needs to take everything at his own speed.

[luckycloverforducks]

Fuck it, HH swap AU

Their core personalities and backgrounds stay the same, it's mostly a role switch

Niffty <--> Husker

Angel Dust <--> Vaggie

Alastor <--> Charlie

(the typical for swap AUs, I know,,)

Everyone else stays the same

These r edits bc I was just figuring out their designs for the AU, I'll draw them normally another time (Husker isn't here cuz I can't find a good png of the mf)

In this AU Alastor started the hotel mostly because he randomly thought up the idea once and thought, "that's fucking hilarious, I'm doing that" + a secondary sentimental reason he'd kill me for saying (he got genuinely fully invested in the cause eventually)

He advertised it on his radio show suddenly out of the blue after 7 and a half years of radio (lol) silence. Alastor still owns Husker's and Niffty's souls but they're also obviously friends (or atleast close to it)

Also he can read tarot bc why not :3

Charlie is closer to her dad in this AU and more sheltered, adopting a more aloof, smug, and dangerous persona so sinners take her seriously, she also has a very slight condescending outlook towards sinners but she's at her core still compassionate and still views them as her people and want to protect them to a certain extent, and she still thinks the Exterminations are unnecessary and cruel, but she doesn't feel like she can do much about it since according to Lucifer's stories and discouragement, she knows heaven likely wouldn't listen much if at all, but when she heard of Alastor's little project it resparked hope in her and she decided to invest in it, becoming co-owner and funder for the hotel.

Angel Dust/Anthony never made a deal with Valentino and actually stayed in his family's crime/mafia business for the 1st half of him being in Hell, but his dad is a POS and kicked him out for being gay so he started doing s3x work, and then he met Alastor after he brutalized his harassers one day, and Angel wanted to repay the favor somehow. Alastor seems interested in him so they struck a deal (not a soul deal, just a simple deal) which has Angel/Anthony is under Alastors protection in exchange for Angel/Anthony's loyalty and assistance when needed (which is a rare case so Angel still feels like he owes Alastor). They grow friendly with time, and Alastor offers to have him be patient zero for his redemption project, and he accepted.

Vaggie/Vi is still a fallen exterminstor and still met Charlie the same way she did in the show, but after that they went their separate ways and Vi finds herself making a deal with Velvette. Instead of being a pornstar like Angel in the show, she is an influencer and a rockstar/singer, she does enjoy making music and playing the guitar but Velvette tends to overwork her and make her do things she doesn't really like for views/popularity. Velvette is the nicest to Vi/Vaggie compared to with her other employees (which isn't a very highly set bar tbh) but she also frequently break her boundaries.

Vi met Charlie again during one of her concerts and they got close and started dating. (Also one sided Velvette x Vaggie is sort of slightly maybe canon in this AU bc toxic Yuri is fun (and it's only fully one sided after Charlie and Vaggie/Vi started dating))

She helps manage the hotel when needed, but is honestly only there cause Charlie is.

Not much about Niffty changes tbh (she's perfect the way she is, utterly unhinged 😍) she's just a bit more mellowed out and less hyper (she's still hyper just not all the time like in the show) and she's also a bartender and has surprisingly good taste for alcohol, and also frequently makes borderline poisonous drinks while experimenting, but when she gets it right it's really good. Doesn't stop the others of being terrified of her drinks though

Husker is a more smiley and charming in this AU, using a laid back attitude to put people at ease and more willing to open up to him if they need to (he used to use the information people share as blackmail when he needs to back when he was an Overlord, although he never actually needs to spread anything, just threats), and he's still very observant but he's also slightly more unhinged- He's a sort of butler/cleaner for the hotel

He still gets grumpy time to time, but mostly when he's drunk, which isn't as often anymore ever since Niffty was put in charge of the bar (understandably so)

He has a bit of an anger issue and also gets annoyed easily, and sometimes makes unhinged threats as a sort of joke (they stop being much of a joke once you genuinely piss him off)

He likes things clean and tidy because it helps him pretend to be put together

He and Alastor are a bit friendlier compared to in the show, hes still one of the few people that knows more about Alastor, though hes still bummed about the whole being owned by Alastor thing (Husker can also read tarot to a lesser extent bc Al taught him for funzies and Husker thought it's interesting)

His gambling addiction is also ever so slightly worse