#please tell me i'm not the only one who thought of this
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scentedluminarysoul · 2 days ago
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Yeah, gotta say as well, I'm not super excited to post new chapters sometimes. Like, I get comments, and it's great, some frequent flyers. But only on day one or two, rarely later. And then I just. Tend to forget honestly. Life goes on. And I think, maybe people just don't care.
But then I get a new comment, whether it be a newcomer or "an old friend" who's rereading, and I immediately want to publish more to get their opinions
But man. Even when I ask what people thought? Barely anyone says. I want to hear what you loved, what you didn't, what theories you have!
And I think this is in part due to creative work being reduced to "content". It's content people consume and then go to the next piece of content. People don't engage with fandom anymore. I'm old, I've been in fandom for 20 years, and it was so different back then. Now I have people just telling me to update, or asking why character X did Y. Dear readers: that's for you to ponder.
So I think in part it's also the erosion of good TV shows, actually. Used to be we had 22-24 episodes and the story unfolded slowly, questions left unanswered. Now? Shows drop all episodes at once, and only 6 of them, so we gotta speedrun, and we better explain everything every five minutes for the people on their phones.
Anyway, sorry, rambling.
Point is:
Tell an author that you liked their story!
If you're shy, or don't speak the language, that's fine! I have regulars who only comment emojis, or who comment in their native language (Spanish, Russian), or run their comment through translate to post in English.
It's fine! Emojis show emotion. And translators exist!
Just please, as a writer, I beg of you:
Comment.
Don't lock yourselves away, discussing a fic. If you like it, let the author know!
A friend of mine also spent so much time and effort plotting out a huge event in their fic, the grand finale, 30k+ words over multiple chapters, and they received barely any feedback. They were so bummed out and almost quit and deleted. They were depressed about it. And it was so good! You could tell they put so much soul into it to make it perfect. It just sucks when people don't say anything.
I often lack the energy for a long comment, so I'll just drop a short one. "I loved it! Thank you for writing!" and sometimes I go back later and leave a longer one when I have the spoons. But I want to leave something, because I know how it is
Because here's the other thing: fanfics aren't social media. You can still comment on fics that are finished and years old. I've seen people write new chapters on abandoned fics because of a single new comment!
Fandom creators provide fanworks for free. We put our heart and soul and whole pussy into it. And all we ask for in return is a little bit of appreciation
I apologize again for the rant
A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.
My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.
My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.
This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.
Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.
I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.
So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.
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jo-speaks · 2 days ago
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Happy birthday 🫶🏽
🎂, i'm all yours ... fuck- all yours–, with LUKEEEEEE HUGHESSSS 🫶🏽
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warnings: smut below the cut!! mdni! car sex, sub! luke, i think that's all!
requests for this celebration are still open! you can request here :)
wc: 352
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You hadn’t expected to care so much when you saw Luke talking to another girl. It was late, you were at a bar, and there were other women around. Drunk women. 
It was hard to tell what exactly they were talking about as you were leaving the bathrooms as they were a good distance from where your boyfriend was waiting for you. You had left him unattended and he couldn’t help but feel awkward at the lack of your presence. For some reason, this girl thought he was trying to be the shy, approachable guy. 
And that’s how you landed in your current situation. 
Your hands streaked the foggy windows of Luke’s car, trying to hold yourself steady as you dropped your hips up and down on his throbbing length. 
“Can she ride you like this, huh? Can she?” You asked, every one of your movements being fueled by jealousy.
Luke groaned loudly, shaking his head rapidly. “No. Only you.” 
You smiled, satisfied at his answer. However, you wanted more. You sped up your hips, doing your best to keep your head from hitting the roof of the vehicle. Luke was losing it beneath you, his eyes fluttering shut as he couldn’t handle the way your breasts were bouncing right in above his face but unable to touch them as you had instructed him to keep them on your hips. 
Who was he to disobey your words when you were riding him this well?
 “Say it. I wanna hear you say it, baby.” You teased, slowing your pace which elicited a whine from the man below you.
Luke opened his eyes, catching your fiery gaze. He took a second to collect himself, his brain turning to mush and words seeming impossible as you sped up yet again in hopes of getting the answer you wanted faster.
“I’m all yours.” He whimpered as you began to touch your clit, “Fuck, I’m all yours.”
You grinned, satisfied at his answer. There was something reassuring in his saying of those three words. It wasn’t just to please you, he was speaking the truth. 
“Atta boy. Cum for me, yeah?”
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pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 days ago
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The Meet Cute - Law's Story - Epilogue
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Source for pic
The Great Pretender Epilogue
Word Count: 4679
Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.
Notes: This is it, everyone! The end! Oh, I'm so emotional right now. Maybe I should've hold off a bit before posting this, but I really wanted to share it with you all. Honestly, I hope you love it. Please tell me all about it in a comment, or in an ask, in a DM, whatever you feel like it, I would like to know if this made you feel happy, sad, angry, all of the above! But ultimately, I want to thank each and every one of you for taking this journey with me!
|Masterlist| | |Chapter 17|
Law’s hands slither to your waist, his touch far more rattled than his usually composed embrace. He steps impossibly closer, and your back presses flush against the door while an almost soundless whimper escapes your lips. He uses that opening to slide his tongue into your mouth, and you sigh into his kiss. 
You’ve missed this.
The easy way you two fit together, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the urgency in each touch and each kiss. 
But as your fingers entwine in his hair, they ground you in a harsh reality: Doflamingo. You need to stop this. 
Parting the kiss with a groan, you lower your gaze, breathless and dazed, trying hard to compose your thoughts so you can utter intelligible words. “Law… Law!” You urge, removing your hands from the temptation of feeling more of him against your skin and trapping them against your legs in closed fists. “We can’t.”
Yet he doesn’t heed your words. His hands go back to cupping your cheeks, lifting your face to his and claiming your lips once more, like he’s a man dying of starvation and you’re his only source of sustenance. “Hush, love. Later.” Then he feeds some more on your luscious lips, his source of life.
Your legs lose strength, and so does your determination. Surely a few more stolen kisses and touches won’t do much harm? The damage is already done, and you’re only going to do damage control.
Just a few more kisses…
No.
“Law!” You say more firmly, your hands pressing against his chest to keep him a breath away. “Please… we can’t do this.” Your plea is nothing more than a broken whine, and that seems to catch Law’s attention. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice deep with want and need, filled with longing and despair. 
Deep breaths.
“Please, Law. Pretend I wasn’t here. We can’t do this. I’m not supposed to be near you, I wasn’t even supposed to speak with you, let alone kiss you!” Your watery eyes are already producing more tears, so Law takes a step back.
“So it is my uncle, isn’t it?” You nod, too scared to say anything else. This fleeting moment felt like a dream, a small interlude in the abyss of pain that surrounds you, but you can’t let it linger. “What did he say he’d do to you? I’ll talk to him, I–...”
Shaking your head, you try to think about how much you should share with Law, but he doesn’t let you think, much less speak. 
“I can’t bear to be apart from you anymore, not when I know that nothing happened, not when I know you still love me… I can make him retract his threats, he’ll listen to me.”
Oh, how you want to hope. The words Law weaves are beautiful, like a siren song to your ears, but you know Doflamingo won't give up that easily. He decided you are not worth his nephew’s time, so he’ll never relent. You know enough about manipulative, arrogant men to understand they never give up once they set their mind to something.
You wish you didn’t know, though. 
“What did he say? What threats did he make? Was it about your father?” A low rumble rolls in waves from his chest before he speaks. “Was he threatening you directly? Your health?”
You keep shaking your head, he’ll never get there alone if you don’t say something. Even if Law doesn’t trust his uncle, those family values Doffy instilled in him are still very strong. 
He lets his thumb graze your lips again, a show of the deep devotion he feels, once more making true to his claim of not being able to part with you. “What is it, then? Tell me.”
A heavy sigh signals your resignation. Your fingers climb up his jawline in a sweet caress, but you still try. One last effort to keep him away, even though it will destroy you both. Gently twirling his earring, you soften your gaze. 
“We don’t have a future together, Law…” The words are like ash in your mouth, leaving it dry and unsavoury, crumbling into a pile of lies you never meant to build.
To his credit, though, he doesn’t even flinch. “Stop it, sweetheart. That’s not going to work.” Law presses his forehead against yours again, and his sigh breathes life into you. Obviously, it wouldn’t work. You weren’t even trying.
“He… your uncle threatened to destroy your clinic, Law… all your work, just gone!”
Law takes a step back, his eyes widening slightly for a fraction of a second, but his control quickly falls into place as he subtly nods, like he almost couldn’t believe it but ultimately expected something of the sort. 
“I could deal with whatever threat he made towards me. Thanks to you, I know just how strong I can be… but… but not a threat to everything you’ve been working for, Law! I could never jeopardise what you’ve built! And now…” You try to hold your grief back by hugging yourself.
“My clinic? He would stoop that low…?” His hand tousles his hair as the familiar crease between his brows returns. 
“He did. And that’s why I’ll leave and never come back. We can pretend nothing happened, we just can’t see each other again and–...”
“Sweetheart…”
“He won’t find out! Or even if he somehow realises I came here, once we never speak to each other again, he won’t fulfil his threat!”
“Love!”
“We just… we just…” You exhale half a sob and tighten your grip on yourself. “It’s simple, really… you carry on with your life, and I–...”
The authoritative way in which he speaks your name makes your thoughts stop spiralling and your lips stop rambling. With a firm touch, Law disentangles your arms from around your frame and wraps them around his waist, stepping closer to you, his amber gaze never leaving yours. 
“I don’t know where you got the silly notion that I care more about my work than I care for you, but it’s not true.” Law laces his fingers through your hair as he settles his hand on your nape. His other hand gently caresses your cheek, your jaw, your collarbone… a lover’s touch.
Something you can never give up, no matter how hard you try to do what’s right for him. 
“But, Law–...”
“No buts, sweetheart. What do I always tell you?” A smirk twists his lips upwards, and warmth fills your chest, already expecting the words that come next. “I got this.”
And for the first time in what feels like forever, a real smile pulls at the corners of your lips as he takes them in another searing kiss. He’s got this. He’s Trafalgar Law, there’s nothing that can stop him.
-*-
You and Law lose track of time in each other’s arms. You couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves when you were together for twenty-four hours, let alone now that you’ve been apart for so long. 
He continuously assures you that he will speak with his uncle in person, but somehow, your fears have been assuaged. As usual Law’s cool and calm approach to things grounds you and stops you from spiralling too hard.
When he finally goes to his desk to cancel any appointments he has for tomorrow, since he plans to go to the city to talk with Doflamingo, he lets out a muffled curse followed by a chuckle. 
“It’s past closing time, love.”
What? You’ve been lost in each other for hours? How can that be? Fishing your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you confirm the time and see the messages Shanks left for you. Most of them are happy emojis and encouraging words. Then there’s one that says he’s going to take the truck home and that you should get a ride to Law’s apartment, followed by some winky emojis and a speech about safety and protection that you choose to ignore. 
But Law is probably thinking about the same thing because he’s shutting down his computer and the lights, his hand stretched out for you to grab as he navigates you both through the dark clinic, locking up behind him. 
You can still feel a little prickle of uncertainty twisting your stomach, a shiver of dread still coursing through your veins, but Law’s presence is steady and solid. 
He’s got this.
-*-
Law grits his teeth together as he crosses and uncrosses his legs for the umpteenth time in the span of ten minutes. He shouldn’t be this nervous. It’s not the first time he’s faced his uncle to stand on something he believes in. 
Though he’s never really won any of those battles. Not on his own, anyway. Cora was always there to vouch for him, help him, and calm tensions when they inevitably started to climb. 
Law and Doffy can never have a serious conversation without it completely escalating. 
That’s why it’s so paramount that today he’s able to stay cool and collected. He needs to win this battle. And if he can keep his cool together for everyone else, why should his uncle be any different?
Still, he can’t help the uneasiness from making him slightly nauseous, so he cracks his neck with a slow, rotating motion to try and ease off the edge. Doflamingo is making him wait on purpose, he knows that. 
He just needs to remain calm. 
“Mr. Trafalgar, your uncle is ready to see you now.”
Law inhales sharply as he gets up and buttons his black blazer. He’s got this.
He’s been to his uncle’s office quite a few times, but the opulence of it never ceases to amaze him. It’s a penthouse office, bigger than some people’s houses. Its windows go from top to bottom and overlook the busy streets below, like a reminder that Doffy is always above everyone else. 
Doflamingo doesn’t get up from behind his desk to greet him. He peers at Law from behind his tinted glasses, an eerie smile twisting his lips upwards as he leans back in his chair, fingers entwining in his lap.
“Well, well, well… if it isn’t my dear nephew. What brings you to the city, Law?” Then he gasps as he moves forward, and Law takes his seat across from him. “No, that’s not the real question. What I mean is: what brings you to your family’s firm? A place you tend to avoid, even when you’re required…?”
Law knows Doflamingo is very aware of why he’s there. Actually, Law is pretty sure Doffy already knows you and Law connected, but he doesn’t plan on showing all of his cards right now.
“You know why I’m here, Doffy.”
“Yes. And alone. How surprising.” Doffy chuckles slowly. “You’re finally becoming a big man? You don’t need the support of my foolish brother to fight your own battles this time?”
He’s taunting Law, trying to distract him, to make him lose control of his emotions, as he so easily and usually does. 
“This is my own battle, and one I don’t intend to lose, Uncle.”
“How daring of you, Nephew.” Doffy relaxes back into his chair again, one hand absently caressing his jaw as he regards Law with interest. “Speak your terms, I’m all ears.”
“I know you tried to push her away from me. I know it was you who orchestrated that performance, perfectly played by Vinsmoke. I know, Uncle.”
Doflamingo smiles, and Law almost perceives a hint of pride behind the light lenses. 
“What you need to know is that I can make my own choices, even if they hurt me, even if they’re the wrong choices, I have to make them. You can’t protect me from everything, especially when the one who ends up hurting me most is you.”
Doffy’s smile falters and he swallows hard.
Law takes another deep breath. “I love her. I want to be with her. She’s not the wrong choice, she was always the right one. Uncle… let me be happy.”
For a fraction of a moment, Law sees a bit of compassion in Doffy’s eyes, but as soon as it appears, it vanishes, replaced by another wicked grin. Law should’ve known better than to expect this to be easy. 
“Love is not the key to happiness, Law. You should know that by now. Love makes you weak, it makes you lose sight of the really important things like–...”
“Power? Wealth? Influence?” Law’s hands turn to fists and he traps them against his lap, trying to control the snarl threatening to break through his clenched teeth. “I know all of that! You’ve been trying to instil those notions on me since I was a ten-year-old lost boy, filled with grief and guilt from losing my family!”
Law’s hands shake, and his chest heaves with effort. He needs to remain calm. He can’t win anything if he loses control, that’s what Doflamingo wants. 
“Yes. No matter how hard you take it, Law, those things are what make the world turn. Power, wealth, and influence are what fuel the hearts of people, and that is what’s necessary to keep you in a position of–...”
“I don’t care, Uncle! I never meant to be a figure of authority or influence! I just want to be happy and save people’s lives!” Law gets up, too fidgety to remain still, and starts to pace the big office. “All I want is for little kids not to have to lose their families to accidents or disease. I want to make a difference…” His shoulders slump as he stops behind the chair he was sitting on, his amber gaze fixed on Doflamingo’s, the cool control completely overrun by raw emotion. “I want her.”
“Are you willing to lose all you’ve worked for just for her?” Doffy’s words are calculating, and Law came prepared for this outcome. It’s not one he wanted. If he could choose, he’d walk away from this meeting with both his clinic and you. But if this is what it takes…
“Yes.”
“Very well, then. Let’s talk. I have a proposition for you.”
-*-
You can barely focus on your job the next morning, and by the time your shift ends and you get home, you’re full on spiralling. Has Law spoken with Doflamingo already? How did it go?
You don’t have any missed calls or messages on your phone, and you don’t want to call him and risk interrupting something, so you have to wait. He told you he’d call once the meeting was over. 
You just have to wait. You can do this.
“Bug? Did you hear a word I said?” Shanks looks at you with a half-smirk painting his lips while you make a mess by pouring coffee onto an upside-down mug.
“Shit!” You mumble before grabbing a rag to clean up the mess while Shanks chuckles. “No, dad, I didn’t, I’m sorry. It’s just…”
“Is everything alright? I thought you and Law had patched things up.”
You smile nervously at him while he helps with the mess. “We did, but… it’s complicated.” Then you explain a bit about Doflamingo and how much influence he holds over Law while you share a mug of coffee. The conversation with Shanks actually helps distract you, and time flies. Though, as soon as your phone starts to ring, you excuse yourself and run outside as Shanks yells at you not to run on the porch steps, something he said every day when you were a little girl. 
“Law?”
“I told you I had this, love.”
Your easy laugh brings tears to your eyes. Of course, he had it. Law’s finally free of his uncle’s threats, and you can stop worrying. 
You have a future. A bright, beautiful future with the man you love. 
It almost seems impossible to believe. 
-*-
Sweat still clings to your bodies as you lie in the crumpled sheets. You’re in Law’s apartment again, and you’re not sure you’ll ever want to spend another night away from him. You’re an adult, so Shanks doesn’t even pry, but you know he’s happy for both of you, since he has a soft spot for Law. 
Lying your head against Law’s chest and hearing his erratic heartbeat after he makes love to you has become something you’re quite addicted to. It’s soothing, grounding, and familiar. He’s your home.
His fingers trace gentle patterns on your naked back as he lays soft kisses on your head, letting you have this moment until his heartbeat retreats to a normal pace. 
“How did you do it?” You were so happy when he returned from his meeting with Doffy that you barely had time to talk about how it went before he dragged you to his bed, chasing away all the tension you had accumulated over the past weeks, making you lose control over and over again until you could barely think.
“We agreed on some terms.” 
“How cryptic.” You tease, moving your head and leaning your chin on his chest so you can gaze into the soft amber of his eyes. “What terms?”
Law sighs, and the crease between his eyebrows forms in record time. Will he ever tell you all the details of what transpired in this meeting?
“I’m going to dedicate much more of my time to the family’s business.” A strained smile forms on his lips, and your heart sinks.
“No, Law! You hate it.”
Cupping your cheek against his palm, he strokes your skin gently. “I do. But it’s a very small price to pay. And I can attend meetings on the computer, so they won’t know if I’m listening or playing solitaire.” He jokes, but you find it hard to laugh. 
“Don’t joke, Law. How about clinic hours? Your hospital shifts?” You don’t want to voice it, but you fear this will also steal the little time you can find on his busy schedule to just be together and ‘date’!
Maybe that was Doflamingo’s plan all along when he agreed to this. 
He kisses the tip of your nose affectionately while you frown. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll still have time for everything.” Once again, he reads you like a book. He knows what you truly meant, even if you were also worried about him not having enough time to dedicate to his patients. “The important thing is that Doffy backed off. He understood I would never give you up and his threats were empty and futile. I won.”
“But so did he, Law… wasn’t that what he wanted all along? For you to dedicate yourself to his business? Hasn’t he been grooming you for that since you were young?”
“Sure. But I’ll say it again: small price to pay.” With a swift movement, he turns you, pinning you under him and slotting himself in the middle of your parted legs, a sly grin curving his lips. “You’re the only thing I can’t afford to lose.”
A wistful sigh escapes your lips as you give up your argument. There’s no point in insisting with him. As long as he’s happy and you’re together, you’re happy too.
“I love you, Law.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.” Law nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck as his tongue swirls sinful patterns on your skin. “Where were we?”
With a giggle you surrender yourself to him. All of yourself, without restrictions, qualms, or fears. Law’s yours, and you’re his.
Not in a possessive, toxic way, but in a way that lets you know both of you would go to the ends of the earth and back if that’s what it took to be close to one another. 
-*-
Weeks pass slowly, and as you predicted, you spend most nights at Law’s. He is busier, there’s no denying it. Even though he tried to downplay it at first, his involvement with the family’s business takes more of his time than either of you wished.
But you both manage. Law learns to stamp his feet now and then, demanding more free time, and it seems Doflamingo likes it when he’s assertive because he grants him just that. Though you suspect Cora also plays an important part in keeping Doffy in check.
You both go on a lot of dates. And if at first it seems a little silly, since you skipped a lot of steps, it soon becomes endearing. Law brings you flowers and picks you up at Shanks’ as if you’re still getting to know one another.
That makes Shanks laugh, and he fake-threatens Law to bring you back before curfew and treat you like a lady, ‘or else’, knowing well enough that you’ll be spending the night away. But Law plays into the act and promises he’ll behave.
He doesn’t.
And that’s the first time you have car sex with Law. 
He takes you to expensive places to eat and to food trucks. You watch movies at the theatre and at drive-ins. There are walks in the park and sweet weekend escapades to whimsical locations or tourist traps. 
It’s blissful. 
You love every second of it, and everything just cements what you knew almost from the beginning. Law is the one. He’s the one you want to spend your life with. 
-*- 
It’s a lazy Sunday. The clinic is closed, and Law has a day off from the hospital. You spent the day baking cookies and bingeing trashy tv shows. Now, you both lie on the rumpled sheets of his bed, the warm glow of the sunset seeping through the curtains of Law’s room, tracing new patterns on his inked chest, which you trace diligently with your fingers. 
Law is eerily quiet, so you prop yourself up on one elbow to gaze into his face. A contemplative look mars his features and he looks deep in thought. For a second, your mind wanders to his uncle, and you’re not sure if you should pry, but before you can ask, Law opens his mouth to speak.
“I never told you much about my parents, have I?” His voice is thick with emotion, and you hold in a breath as well as his gaze.
“No, but it’s alright. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You realise it’s a touchy subject, something far too painful for him to speak freely about. 
“I need you to know everything about me. I don’t want anything left unsaid between us.” With a nod you wait for him to continue, giving him all the time and space he needs to share what he needs to share. “They were very caring people, full of joy and love, and though they were both doctors and had busy professional lives, they always had time to play with their children. They raised me as a happy child, my sister and me. We would butt heads, as most siblings do, but I loved her to bits and pieces. There was always laughter in our household.”
Your throat feels tight with emotion as Law’s eyes become glassy with unshed tears, the weight of a lifelong pain he can’t shake off. 
“Then it all fell apart. I lost all of them in an instant… and got left behind. For the longest time, I couldn’t understand why I had survived. It was almost as if the universe had made a cruel mistake, because why had they died - when they were wonderful people - and I had been the one to survive? It didn’t make sense.”
You can’t stop the trembling of your lips, but you squeeze Law’s hand, too afraid to say something because you know you’ll just fall apart and he needs to finish sharing. A small smile pulls at his lips as he gazes back into your eyes, a hand lying in a sweet caress on your cheek. 
“One of the reasons I became a doctor was exactly that. To try and make amends, to save others from the same fate that befell me. To repent. Though I never let myself believe I was destined for true happiness.” You can’t stop the tears from falling, staining your cheeks. Law brushes a thumb over them, and his smile deepens. “Until you. You made me believe that maybe fate left me alive for a reason other than just surviving.”
A soft sob shakes your shoulders, and Law gently pulls you to him, kissing your lips softly. You pour all your love into that kiss, he needs to know how much he means to you. There are promises of love between kisses and tears, and it all feels so raw and vulnerable. It warms your heart to understand that Law trusts you enough to share his deepest fears and regrets. 
After an emotional moment, you break the closeness with a sheepish smile. “You know…” You begin in a singsong voice, trying to lighten the mood. “If this were real, this would be the part where I comfort you and say something really deep, but since we’re just pretending…” You trail off, and Law chuckles, your words relieving him of the burden of the past as he brushes a strand of hair from your eyes. 
“If this were real,” he teases, entering your game with a glint in his eyes, “this would be the part where I tell you that the universe placed you in my path because we were always destined to be together.”
A real laugh leaves your lips, and you brush away the last remnant of tears from your eyes. “And if this were real, this would be the part where I’d call you a romantic sap, even though I enjoy it thoroughly.”
Law sits up, his smirk widening as he faces you with affection. “And if this were real, this would be the part where I’d make a grand, romantic gesture just to prove to you how serious I really am.”
A small chuckle escapes your lips, but your breath hitches when Law opens his nightstand drawer, taking out a small velvet box. Your heart races against your chest as you sit up, your smile turning into a surprised awe. 
“And if this were real,” Law continues, his voice deeper, moved by raw emotion as he opens the box. “I’d be holding a ring just like this one.” 
Your breaths leave you in trembling gasps as your eyes dart from the ring to his face and back to the ring again. “Law…” You whisper, throat thick with emotion. 
“And if this were real, love,” he’s also slightly breathless, “this would be where I ask you to marry me.”
Tears spill down your cheeks again, your hand covering your open mouth as you’re overwhelmed with joy and love. All you’ve been through, all the happy times, the uncertainty, the pain… you both came out of it stronger.
“If this were real,” you start, your voice coming between hitches and sobs and the occasional nervous laugh, “this would be the part where I would say yes.”
Law’s smile widens, and with slightly trembling fingers, he grasps your hand and slips the ring into place. You laugh along with a sob, barely believing what’s happening. Then he pulls you into his arms, having you sit on his lap, both with the hugest grins on your faces.
But before he leans in to kiss you, you stop him, a quizzical look on your face. “Just so we’re clear, this is real, right?”
Law’s laugh is like a balm to your soul. A deep, rich timbre that fills your heart and swells, expands, taking over your body and making you feel complete. 
“This is very real, sweetheart, and you’ve just made me the happiest man alive. I love you.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, you manage to whisper a shaky ‘I love you too’ before crashing your lips against his. 
If you could’ve saved Shanks the suffering, you would, but you will never not be grateful for the fact that he needed to be operated on by Law, or you wouldn’t have met the man of your dreams. 
THE END
Tag List:@rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @rainbow2312 @alexturnersgirl
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b-lossm · 4 hours ago
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The New Workout Plan
Caitvi x reader Smut ;)
synopsis: Cait and Vi went out of town for their job for a week, leaving you weak and alone..
Smut +18 only, MDNI
Pure filth, Threesome, Dom Caitlyn Kiramman, Switch Vi [mostly dom], Sub Reader, Reader is kind of a brat tbh but like not rlly, subspace??? kinda im not too sure but ill put it here just incase, nudes, lingerie, Mommy and Daddy kink, Praise, Degradation, hair pulling, marking, fingering, strap ons, spitting, pussy slapping, edging, biting, refers to strap as 'cock' and 'dick', begging, trip to strap town with a stop at squirt city, face riding, 'bitch', hickeys, biting kinda Aftercare!!!!
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Its been rough without your girlfriends, being all alone for a week is NOT for the faint of heart. They had to go on some business trip for their job, leaving you all alone, making you drive to your Pilates class all by yourself and getting froyo by yourself. Wanting to tease them, you put on their favorite set that you have and you take a cute picture of yourself
you text your groupchat
you: Vi!!! Cait!! :(
Cait<3: What's up princess? is there a problem
You: noo I just missed you guys ;(
You: 1 pic
Cait<3: Look out the window baby
Quickly, you look out the window and see Vi's big truck, they're back and your fucked. You rush to go put on some clothes to greet them outside "Cait! Vi! I missed you!" you hug them and Vi gently bites the shell of your ear, "Saw the picture you sent Sunshine, your so bad for getting us all worked up while we wanted to give you a nice suprise" you squeak as Cait pinches your side "Misbehaving without us? Thought you where better then that honey" damn it,, well..atleast you got to hug them before your punishment!
--
"f--fuck p--please c--cait--mommy pleace let me touch" you moan out as cait slowly teases your clit while Vi worked on your folds, she tuts "ah I'm not sure... last time I checked good girls got what they wanted.. isn't that right Vi?" Vi nods and talks into your pussy "m--mhmo h-- oh you've been a bad girl" Cait then tugs Vi’s hair slightly “Dont talk with your mouth full” Vi moans and lifts her head up “m-mm okay Mommy” she then dives in “m-m’ close p-please let me c—um mommy” you moan breathily as you hold your hands together, Cait then pulls Vi’s head our from your thighs “Hold it” she commands getting up from her spot behind you to get between your legs while Vi gets both of their straps.
Cait pins you to the bed with one hand as the other works your messy cunt out “thought you could get away with that hm?” she thrusts harshly only slowing to scissor your insides “thought you could just tease us while we where on the trip?” she licks a stripe up your tummy to your breasts and takes one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking and biting softly "You better be a good girl for us baby, god-- who knows what's gonna happen if you aren't" she gives you a cocky grin, spitting on your chest just to lick it back up again. As she fingers you she can tell how close you are, your whimper's and breaths become quick, your legs tremble more your cunt clenches deliciously around her fingers "Wait a second Princess" she giggles and pulls out, slapping your cunt a few times before bringing her fingers up for Vi to taste "mmph.. so good Princess" she moans softly as she lewdly swallows your juices from around Cait's fingers
As Cait secures the harness around herself Vi presses dark, angry hickeys against your neck and thighs "mmph you gonna be a good girl f' me and mommy?" Then you feel Cait's strap tapping at your mouth "Suck." she commands. Hoping to not piss them off--or at least Cait off, you do as she says and press a kiss to the tip of her strap then you slowly take it into your mouth humming as you do so. Cait moans as you send slight vibrations directly to where her clit and the base of the strap meet "being a good girl for once I see" she takes a handful of your hair and forces her strap down while Vi begins to push into your folds softly "Say peach if its too much okay baby? or tap Mommy's thigh three times" Vi says, finally bottoming out so you can feel her large, girthy, cock. With a moan you nod your head, struggling to say something along the lines of 'okay daddy' as you swallow Caitlyn's dick.
You moan and clench up around Vi "oooh I think someone here is bouta' cumm" she teases, halting her movements and looking at Cait to give the final call if you should get your release or not “Hmm do you think you should be able to cum?” Cait asks you, pulling your head off of her strap “M—mhm���p-please Mommy p—please Daddy lemme c—Ah~—cum” you whine and beg desperately as Vi’s thumb finds your clit, toying with you and keeping you on edge. Vi tuts "I think you can beg better then that princess" she takes her thumb away, slapping your messy cunt a few times "lemme hear it babes" Vi ghosts her thumb against your clit more as Cait slaps her strap against your cheeks "Come on, beg for mommy and daddy" you can hear her cocky chuckles "M-mommy ah-! daddy please--please lemme cu--m I'll b' the bes--ohhhghguuhh--best girl for you pp--please mo-mmmy ah! p--please dAddy~" you whine out as they make out on top of you, both fighting for dominance. Under them you feel like a toy in the best way possible, truth be told, you love it when they fight for dominance over you, you especially like it because one of them always ends up being a little subby, kind of like you right now. They eventually break the kiss, ending because Vi comes, just by strapping you down "go make our girl come Vi. Now." Cait commands as she takes her strap off and lowers her pussy onto your hungry mouth "eat." she then feverishly makes out with Vi while riding your face.
Its all too much for you. Caitlyn's sweet wet juices all over your face, her clit bumping the tip of your nose while yours gets tortured by Vi's middle and ring finger as she thrusts into your hungry cunt rapidly "fucking take it bitch--" Vi moans softly into Cait's mouth "C--Close" Cait whines and speeds up her movement, Vi doing the same to make you moan into her cunt "Fuck-- same" Cait's hand finds Vi's clit and rubs it to add to her pleasure "O--oh gosh!'" you moan into Cait's messy--messy pussy as you lap up her juices, squirting in the process "Shit baby.." Vi says as her whole bottom half is covered in you. Cait gets off of you breathlessly, laying next to you as Vi pulls out and lays between you two "God we need a bath.."
--
After a quick power nap, Vi gets up and runs a bath for the three of you, her orgasm not effecting her that much due to her extensive stamina. You then feel two pairs of strong arms lower you into a warm body of water, quickly joining in with you "Thank you mommy" you cuddle up to Cait "No babes, s' just Cait and Vi now okay?" she clarifies, rubbing shampoo into your hair as Vi massages your body "Mhm that's right cutie. S' just Cait and Vi" she kissed your collarbones softly, as opposed to the harsh hickeys she left in the same spots.
After the three of you bathed each other and got the care you needed they take you out of the bath to dry you off and brush your hair, feeling a little bad after your kind of harsh session "you okay princess?" Cait asks, blow drying your hair away from your skin "m-mhm.. that was nice" you say sleepily, Vi then comes back with your favorite pajama set, a cute tank top and its matching shorts "this is the one right babes?" she kisses your temple and holds your hand to help you get dressed. They both appreciate these domestic moments, even if its right after a rough session, they just like taking care of you. Yes, they do know that you are well prepared to take care of yourself, but they cant help but baby you sometimes, they just love you so much! Cait carries you to the bed and sets you down on the fresh sheets "you okay to sleep honey? got everythin' you need" she whispers into your ear, kissing the shell "mhm m' okay.. jus' need you guys" they both let out a small 'aw' as they cuddle into you from both sides "G'night, love you guys" you say sleepily "love you to Princess, and you too Vi g'night" Cait settles into her spot "G'night babes, love you guys" Vi mumbles, her words slurred as she quickly passes out.
you lucky duck
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I hope you guys love this!! click here for Aftercare hcs [it'll be linked in a few hours if your early]
umm when caitvi sesbian lex scene drops im sorry for the persom im going to become.
tags but just for this fic because they commented :)
@ethandelgado1 @ cleeblatt but they wouldnt link the right acc @vivispace @lightningferel @orbitsaturn
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eternalbuckley · 3 days ago
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this was sooooo good oh my god, i'm SCREAMING
some reactions i had during reading:
You followed him into the laundry, which was only just around the corner, waiting as he grinned and shuffled through the clothes that were sitting in the dryer. When Aegon turned to you, he had a stupid toothy smile and passed you a grey shirt. “Wear that. It’ll be big but it’ll still look good with the rest of your outfit if you tuck it in or something.”
oh that little shit head but god it‘s so good 😭
Aemond kept looking towards you, his wanting eye holding yours assertively whenever you’d catch him watching you. You couldn’t help the heat that crept up your neck at the way he looked you up and down at every chance he got.
why is that so hot 😫😫😫
It was suffocating when paired with the daggers you could feel from Floris’ stares and Aegon’s vexing grin. 
oh poor floris i guess! ☺️
Taking a moment to admire the way his rings complemented his nimble yet clearly strong fingers, you couldn’t believe how attractive a man’s hands could be.
I AM WEAK FOR MEN WEARING RINGS (for women even more BUT HELLO YES)
“So you are a good girl,” Aemond leaned closer, his fingers gently tipping your head upwards at your chin. He was closer than he was before you had blinked and all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. “I like that. I wonder if Aegon was right about us.”
i‘d have ended as a puddle on the floor
“They all thought I would be the one to corrupt you but I can show you all the ways you’ve corrupted my mind instead.”
OHHHHH- the giggle that left my mouth. like yes sir!
His lips lingered at your ear all the while. “You were already a pretty little thing, missy. But I never could have guessed that you’d be so fucking delicious in my clothes.” 
fucking hell ?!!?!!?😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
He pursed his lips, hyper aware of how tense you were in his hands. “Tell me to stop and I will. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can just chat and get to know each other.” 
a king who asks for consent yes fuck me
Aemond hummed as you noticed he did often. “Does it count if I take you out the day after?”
i‘m a slut for his humming 😔
“Keep it on,” Aemond placed a kiss to your clothed shoulder, running his hand across the side of your leg as he let you get rid of your bra underneath the shirt. He pulled your skirt and tights off with steady hands, humming appreciatively at the way your underwear peaked out from where the t-shirt had bunched at your hips. “I want you in my shirt only.”
oh my fucking god i—
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A deep chuckle vibrated against your ear. “I’d apologise but I’m afraid I wouldn’t mean it.
sir—
“I will take you out.” Aemond grinned, squeezing your flesh playfully. “And I will fuck you in every single one of my t-shirts.”
yes please and thank you 🤭🤭
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A Good Girl's Reputation | Aemond Targaryen
Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Summary: It was the last place you wanted to be but nonetheless, you found yourself pulled along to a party you hosted by none other than the Targaryen's, only for spilled wine to force you into Aemond's shirt. A sight that had him dragging you to his bed, eager to corrupt the well-behaved girl who had set him ablaze with desire.
Word Count: 6.7k.
Warnings: MDNI 18+ only!! Oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V sex, dirty talk!!, a major cliche on the good girl trope, reader is shy!, slight degradation, mean friends at a party maybe?, Aegon being sneaky, bad language. Unedited. Please let me know if I missed anything!
Author's Note: Okay, I wasn't going to post this one because it was purely self-indulgent and I kinda wasn't happy with my pen game in this but I was feeling bad about the delay in Dark Cherry part 5 so wanted to share something!! I also love the idea of Aemond being totally feral about seeing reader in his clothes. Share your thoughts my loves, I'm more than happy to discuss things, thoughts and feedback with you all - xoxo, kisses!! <3
There was a nonsensical grandeur about everything that Jilly dragged you into. This time was no different and you silently waited for the sound of the elevator ding while listening to your best friend chatter about the ‘world’s best fucking boyfriend–wait, do you think this makes him my boyfriend?’
“I don’t know, Jilly,” you nibbled on your lip, craning your neck to look around the corner of the entrance hallway. For what reason, you weren’t sure but there was a crawling nervousness on your skin and the urge to make sure there were no unexpected surprises was consuming. “It’s Aegon. Only he can answer that question for you.”
The elevator was taking an infuriatingly long time. You wondered if this was the building’s way of telling you to turn around and return to the dorm room that had become your safe haven over the last two years. Jilly had somehow gotten herself involved with none other than Aegon Targaryen, a man notorious for his partying and hedonism.
It was entertaining at first, and you were more than happy to remain a spectator of the ridiculous pairing. Jilly was entirely different to Aegon and tended to carry herself with a lot more modesty than Aegon was known for. She was calculating and calm where he was impulsive and excitable. 
You thought back to the first time they had met. In a tutorial for a statistics class you needed to take to meet course requirements, the three of you paired together to facilitate a useless discussion on probabilities. The bickering between the two of them was amusing and the first greeting that Aegon had graced the two of you with was a grumbled ‘what kind of name is Jilly?’
And weeks later, Aegon had decided to hold another one of his campus-famous house parties. He had obviously invited Jilly–and by extension he had invited you because there was no chance Jilly would go to a party without you. In fact, before she had met Aegon, there was no chance Jilly would go to any party regardless. 
A loud, excited hmph! fell from Jilly’s lips when the elevator doors finally opened. You had hoped it had broken down on its way to pick you up and that there was a rather convenient lack of staircase to climb instead. 
“I don’t think–”
“Don’t say it,” Jilly held a hand in front of your face. She clicked on P with her other hand. For the penthouse, you guessed. “I know you don’t want to be here. But we are going to have a good night.” 
You sighed, tugging the short, black skirt that Jilly had wrestled you into further down your thighs. It looked good paired with the white satin button down you had insisted on wearing for comfort but it was shorter than you were accustomed to. The thought of maintaining it enough so it didn’t ride up past your bum was tiresome but there was no arguing which you could do to wiggle your way into some pants instead. 
Jilly snickered. “Quit fiddling with your skirt, you’ll poke a hole in your tights–Oh!”
The two of you shared a gasp when the doors opened. No wonder people had so much to say about the Targaryen siblings and their parties when their apartment looked like it was straight out of a Forbes magazine. For a moment, it seemed impossible that the apartment housed two students. It was incomparable to the wardrobe sized dorm you had been living in over the semester. 
Distant chatter pulled you out of your thoughts and you followed Jilly further into the apartment, reminding yourself not to let your jaw drop as your eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting. The party was an hour or so away from starting - Aegon had told everyone to head in after seven but had given Jilly an earlier time so that the two of you could join their pre-game. 
Not that you would. The prospect of getting as drunk as Aegon planned at your (embarrassingly?) first student party was daunting. 
Anxiously, you followed Jilly into the living area where a handful of familiar faces were lounging and drinking. There was a deep bumping of bass, and you could feel the floor vibrating with it, but you couldn’t make out the song that was playing. 
“Jill!” Floris, Aegon’s friend who you had only ever seen on campus, pulled Jilly towards the nearest couch. Hesitantly, you followed, flashing Aegon and Cregan a purse-lipped smile as they made their way to greet you. “We were worried you wouldn’t show up. Is this your friend?”
With a smile, you introduced yourself. Floris only grinned at you before returning her attention to Jilly, who had started up an animated conversation with Helaena. Aegon whistled at Jilly, tipping the neck of his beer in her direction as if to say hello, and threw his other arm around your shoulder. 
He laughed when you cringed, pulling back from him slightly. Aegon smelled like a mixture of beer, red wine and sandalwood cologne. “We placed bets on whether you’d show up. Glad you did. There’s multiple motherfuckers in here who owe me a silver stag each. Not that I need it.”
You spluttered a bit. “What-” 
“Relax,” Cregan teased you from the other side of Aegon. He was clearly drunk. “You’re clearly not much of a party girl but that changes two-” he held up two fingers and then aggressively pointed them down at the floor with a jerk. “-night.” 
Aegon laughed, handing you a glass of wine which suddenly appeared in his hand. You shook your head and he shrugged, downing it himself. He turned away from you, waving someone down. “Aemond!”
Oh gods, no. 
You tried to keep your smile on your face. Aemond fucking Targaryen was leaning against a counter, a beer loosely hanging between his fingers. He was in the middle of a conversation with Criston Cole, a friend of their family who you had heard of only through mindless campus gossip. Aemond glanced toward Aegon in response, an eyebrow raised lazily. 
If there were ever a man you had crushed on, it really had to be him. It was a little bit maddening because you were exactly like your peers in thinking Aemond may be the most attractive man you’d ever see in your lifetime. He was tall, had an air of darkness and mystery to him and his silver hair framed his defined cheekbones and sharp jawline perfectly. But it was the severity in everything about him that had caught your eye–right from the first lecture you had seen him in. 
Aemond, as you understood, had no idea who you were. And while you knew exactly who he was, it wasn’t odd. Everyone knew of him and his family. He had practically been birthed into the public eye. 
“This pretty thing here,” Aegon, much to your protest, had pulled you across the room to introduce you. “Jilly’s best friend. Much like you, dear brother, she hates parties and is not here by her own will. You’d get along.”
Aemond looked at you and you suddenly had no idea what to do with yourself. You met his eye, fiddling with the hem of your skirt and waiting for whatever this moment was to end quickly. Your skin was tingling under his gaze which dropped from your head to your feet and then back to your face. 
When he didn’t say anything, you offered him a tight lipped smile and a timid wave. “Hi?”
He was going to respond. You could see it in the way he had moved but Aegon was quick to cut him off, ever the loud mouthed brat. As subtle as Aegon believed himself to be, he was an incredibly obnoxious drunk.  
“Surely,” Aegon drawled, wrapping his arms around Jilly’s waist when she appeared by your side and pulling her into him tightly. Mockingly, he targeted his question at Jilly but switched his gaze between her and Aemond. “Your little-good-girl friend could use a bit of corrupting, Jills. Seems like Aemond would be entirely capable, from what Floris has–”
“That’s enough, Aegon,” Aemond’s voice was smooth and darker than you’d expected. He gave you a small, reassuring yet tight smile. “Don’t be an ass. Let her be.”
You were a little breathless. Sure, you didn’t quite let go of yourself as much as everyone else did but you were no prude. Right? 
There was no offence intended in Aegon’s teasing but you couldn’t help but feel the sting. He was right–you were relatively good. All of your time and effort went into studying and working. Where you weren’t doing either of those, you preferred the solitude of a good book at a quiet cafe. There were very few bad habits in your life, the worst of which would only be the likes of a dependence on tea or coffee. Parties were a rarity but on the odd occasion you would tag along wherever Jilly would go. And, regardless of that, here you were.
It was embarrassing. You had hoped that if you were to ever introduce yourself to Aemond, things would go slightly better than this and your uptight prudish reputation (which you didn’t realise you had until today) would remain undiscussed. He was different and he didn’t tend to spend his time with people of your tendencies. Aemond was the object of everyone’s desires; if they didn’t want to have him then they certainly wanted to be him. 
You were clearly different from his normal type. If only for the fact that he also had a reputation and that reputation consisted of a string of heartbroken girls who he had never pursued or never shared more than his bed with. Those girls were a lot more like his friends; confident, daring and well accomplished. Aemond was not Aegon; there was a lot more respect in the way people spoke of him and his academic and professional talents were impressive to most people. 
Thankfully, Jilly had pulled you away from that dreadful conversation with a harsh glare pointed at Aegon. The kitchen, which was the closest place for you to hide, was filled with snacks and drinks almost falling off of the countertops. You recognised Helaena, and waved at her.
Helaena had been a friend whenever you had bumped into each other. She was sweet and kind and you actually enjoyed her company. “It’s nice to see you, Helaena. Didn’t think we’d ever run into each other at a house party but hey, it’s been an hour full of surprises.”
She laughed with you. There was an easy flow of conversation between the two of you and when Floris and Jilly had taken to what they called ‘Kitchen Karaoke’, you had even danced together. Jilly, as drunk as she was, pushed the bottle of wine in her hand to you, waiting for you to drink. With some encouragement from Helaena and Floris, you smiled and took a few sips. 
The peace you had found in the kitchen was short lived and when Jilly, joined by Aegon and caught up in her exaggerated Lady Gaga performance, flung her arm out, the bottle of wine in her hand spilling right onto your chest and soaking through the white fabric of your shirt. 
“Shit,” she winced. It was cold and you had a small sense of panic that raised goosebumps on your skin at the thought of wearing a wet, stained shirt all night but at the drunken apologetic look on her face all you could do was force a smile. Jilly giggled nervously. “At least it makes your tits look good.”
“Right,” you mumbled, fingers pulling the wet fabric off of your skin. It was uncomfortably sticking to your skin and the smell of the red wine was beginning to catch. “No problem.”
Aegon tapped your shoulder gently and gave you an animated salute. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you something from the fresh laundry.”
You followed him into the laundry, which was only just around the corner, waiting as he grinned and shuffled through the clothes that were sitting in the dryer. When Aegon turned to you, he had a stupid toothy smile and passed you a grey shirt. “Wear that. It’ll be big but it’ll still look good with the rest of your outfit if you tuck it in or something.”
The t-shirt Aegon handed you was a little long but you weren’t going to complain when you were much happier to be in dry clothing. It was a Slipknot shirt, the graphic on the front slightly worn down with time and washes. You figured it could have been worse–at least Slipknot were good. Aegon had long gone, giving you privacy to change and when you stepped out of the laundry room, you were surprised to see that people had started piling into the apartment. 
Some hip-hop song you could barely recognise played loudly and you were a little thrown off by the crowds of unfamiliar faces. But everyone was having a good time, smiling and dancing among themselves. 
Cigarettes, cologne and coffee filled your senses and you let out a small yelp as you met with a hardened surface, stumbling a little to catch yourself. Aemond’s hands reached out to grab hold of your arms, holding you steady against him so that you wouldn’t fall to the ground. 
“Easy, missy,” he stepped back slightly, as if he were trying to get a good look at you. As Aemond dragged his gaze over you from head to toe, he smirked and hummed deeply.
The heat that rushed to your cheeks was quick and you wondered if Aemond had always smelled so delicious. Your mind was clouded by him and the way he didn’t remove his hands from you, his fingers still gently squeezing your flesh and keeping you far closer to him than you needed to be. 
Whatever it was, if he continued to look at you with so much intensity and hold you as if he didn’t want to let go of you, there was a high chance you’d do something that would only leave you disappointed and embarrassed. 
“Sorry,” you squeaked, pulling away from him in one movement and rushing into the kitchen. Jilly grinned at you, eyebrows wagging exaggeratedly in her drunken state. 
The rest of the girls had found their way to the kitchen, which had actually quietened down even more in the short moments you were away. You found yourself once again at Helaena’s side, watching as Jilly danced with her bottle of wine in hand, and failing to listen to the conversation that was somehow still in flow. 
If you were being honest, the party was a certain type of boring. There was a lot going on yet nothing at the same time and you chalked it up to the fact that you weren’t that friendly with anyone here. Helaena was only part of the crowd because she lived here and Jilly was becoming a part of Aegon’s group of mates, all of whom you knew of but had no real friendship with. 
Floris, who had been staring at you on and off since you had returned, took a sip of her drink and flashed you an odd look. “Is that Aemond’s shirt?”
Helaena giggled beside you, watching you keenly as you frowned. When you answered, Floris looked at you with narrowed eyes. You cleared your throat, nervously nibbling on your bottom lip. “I assumed it was Aegon’s since he gave it to me.”
“What was wrong with what you came in?”
“Floris, you saw that blouse get ruined,” Jilly rolled her eyes, stepping closer to you when she noticed the gentle alarm on your face. “She couldn’t have stayed in a stained top. It won't dry out until tomorrow.”
Floris only huffed, regarding you with a harsh stare and a forced shrug. There was an odd silence that lingered and you considered offering her an apology. But you quickly realised that you didn’t really have anything to apologise for, even though it is probably Aemond’s t-shirt and it was no secret that Floris was all about Aemond. 
The night was passing slowly and you continued to make small talk with the same few people you knew. But the weight of Floris’ glare never disappeared. And Aemond, with his gentle smirk and quiet confidence, had been lingering the entire night. You were half-certain that it was Floris who was the purpose of his prolonged presence in the kitchen, which had become somewhat of a break room for everyone at this point.
There was a pointed silence from him aside from the few words he had muttered in conversation with Helaena or Daeron yet his gaze was communicating more than his words could. Aemond kept looking towards you, his wanting eye holding yours assertively whenever you’d catch him watching you. You couldn’t help the heat that crept up your neck at the way he looked you up and down at every chance he got. 
It was suffocating when paired with the daggers you could feel from Floris’ stares and Aegon’s vexing grin. 
“I’m going outside for a bit,” you told Helaena, placing your glass down on the counter and flashing a pursed-lip smile at whoever caught your eye on your way towards the terrace. 
The journey to the terrace wasn’t easy and you could feel your throat closing in as you tried to squeeze through crowds of people. It was sweaty and loud, shoulders knocking and elbows bumping as you finally pushed your way through to a secluded part of the terrace, sighing at the fresh air and solitude. 
Once again, your peace didn’t last long before you caught a flash of silver in your peripheral. 
Aemond stood beside you, so close that your shoulder brushed the leather of his jacket. “You alright?” 
His proximity had turned your brain silent and you simply nodded, forcing your eyelids not to flutter shut at his delicious smell. There was a comfortable silence that followed. He rested his elbows on the railing as you were, relaxing against it and watching the street below. 
A tickle on your cheek from a loose strand of Aemond’s hair following the breeze woke you up from the haze you were entering. “Not enjoying the party?”
“I don’t like parties,” he chuckled, reaching into his pocket. 
You snickered, eyes trailing across his hands as he fiddled with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Taking a moment to admire the way his rings complemented his nimble yet clearly strong fingers, you couldn’t believe how attractive a man’s hands could be.  “You’re not like your brother, then. That’s good–couldn’t handle having two Aegon’s about.”
Aemond shook his head, smiling as he held the box out to you. “Thankfully my brother and I are not alike. Cig?”
“Not for me.”
He hummed, popping a cigarette between his lips and holding the lighter to it. “Good. Do you mind?”
You didn’t have much else to say other than a shrug, letting him know it was alright for him to smoke. It would hardly be anything to complain about with the way Aemond seemed to look ten times sexier with a cigarette between his fingers and hanging from his lips. 
“I guess your reputation isn’t a lie,” Aemond let his eye fall to you, holding a world of darkness and sin as he smirked at you. A cheeky grin played on his lips as he turned to his side, resting on his arm and leaning back a bit to look at you better. 
You swallowed thickly. A wave of heat to your core had you turning away from him, the intensity of how he looked at you like you were tempting all of his urges. “I just try to stay clear of bad habits. It doesn’t really matter.”
“So you are a good girl,” Aemond leaned closer, his fingers gently tipping your head upwards at your chin. He was closer than he was before you had blinked and all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. “I like that. I wonder if Aegon was right about us.”
Because of the way he was holding your chin, firmly and gently at the same time, you had no choice but to meet his gaze. Goosebumps arose on your skin and you shivered despite the burn of his fingers on your skin. 
“Let me take you somewhere more comfortable,” Aemond drawled. The air grew charged when he grazed his lips against yours, so softly it was almost nonexistent. “They all thought I would be the one to corrupt you but I can show you all the ways you’ve corrupted my mind instead.”
The small gasp that fell from your lips made his jaw tick and he let go of your chin, dragging the knuckles of his fingers across your cheek affectionately. 
You nodded and cleared your throat quietly, surprised at your own eagerness. “But I don’t understand.”
“I think you do,” Aemond gently lowered his hand to hold your hip, letting one last puff of smoke out before putting his cigarette out. He guided you inside, keeping you right in front of him and his free arm loosely extended in front of your body to stop people from pushing into you. His lips lingered at your ear all the while. “You were already a pretty little thing, missy. But I never could have guessed that you’d be so fucking delicious in my clothes.” 
You were grateful that you weren’t facing him. He couldn’t see the flush that had crossed your expression and had you shying away gently but only to sink further against his chest as he led you through a quieter hallway. When Aemond pushed open the door to his bedroom, he finally noticed your dishevelled state and let out an affectionate huff. 
Only letting go of you for a moment so that he could close the door behind him, Aemond had turned you to face him and pulled you back to your place against his body. His bedroom was pointedly his; neat and collected, the walls decorated with a few posters of the bands he likes and bookshelves that were almost filled entirely. It smelled like clean linen and his cologne. 
“Wait.” You remembered the girl who had been far more than unhappy to see you in his shirt and stiffened. “I thought you and Floris-”
“Floris and I are nothing,” Aemond was calm when he spoke, still watching you with that fierce desire that you had felt from him when you bumped into him earlier on. You swallowed down your apprehension visibly, avoiding eye contact. “I promise.”
Odd, considering you were well aware he didn’t need to promise you anything. 
Aemond watched your chest heave with your heavy breaths, covered entirely by his favourite t-shirt which draped perfectly from your breasts. A hand returned to your hip, squeezing lightly while the other rested at the crevice of your neck and shoulder, his fingers tickling your warm skin. 
He pursed his lips, hyper aware of how tense you were in his hands. “Tell me to stop and I will. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can just chat and get to know each other.” 
“No,” you shook your head.“I don’t want you to stop.”
It was impossible to resist the way that Aemond was pulling you against him, as if you weren’t close enough despite how you were pressed flush against him and the fabric of your clothing was all that could fit between the two of you. Gods, he smelled so good. 
Confident with your reassurance, Aemond dipped his head so close to yours that you were sharing air, his smirk returned when he felt you shiver against him. “Are you nervous?” 
“I don’t usually do this,” you muttered, eyelids fluttering shut when he brushed the tip of his nose against your cheek and pressed a featherlight kiss beside your lips, dragging them to your jaw when you instinctively moved to try catch his lips in the kiss you only now realised you were craving. But you failed and he cheekily worked away from your attempted kiss. His lips felt good on your skin and a soft gasp in his ear had him squeezing your hip harder. It reminded you what you were telling him. “We technically just met.”
He never stopped placing the smallest of kisses along your jaw, moving them towards your neck. “Technically?”
“We have a couple lectures together.”
The thought that it was rather surprising that he had never noticed much of you crossed Aemond’s mind but when you let your hand fall to his chest, fisting the lapel of his jacket and tugging like you needed him more than oxygen, it disappeared into a haze of your perfume and warmth. 
Aemond hummed as you noticed he did often. “Does it count if I take you out the day after?”
“I’m sure it does,” you bit your lip to hide your smile, frowning when he pulled away from your neck. “But only if you really want–”
All your thoughts were lost when Aemond swallowed your words, his lips finding yours eagerly. You moaned against him, stiffening for a moment as your skin flushed under his touch but returning his vigour when he laced his fingers through your hair, holding it in a tight fist. It was a perfectly coordinated mess of tongue and teeth, and Aemond never once faltered in his fervour. 
Blindly, you let him guide you to the bed, pulling him down without breaking the kiss when the edge of the bed hit the back of your legs.
In the soft glow of candlelight, the both of you were enveloped in a world of your own. The air was thick with anticipation as your bodies drew closer, the heat shared between you palpable. You tilted your head back, inviting his lips to trace a path along your neck, each kiss sending your blood rushing to your core.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.
“Everything, Aemond.”
As his hands found their way under his shirt, fingers gliding over your soft skin, you let out a soft gasp, arching into him. His hands roamed freely, seeking out the warmth beneath the soft fabric, craving your skin against his own.
You felt the weight of him above you, powerful and intoxicating. With a careful urgency, Aemond sat back momentarily, pulling you with him so that he could reach to unclasp your bra. When you moved to take the shirt off with a soft smile, he stopped you. 
“Keep it on,” Aemond placed a kiss to your clothed shoulder, running his hand across the side of your leg as he let you get rid of your bra underneath the shirt. He pulled your skirt and tights off with steady hands, humming appreciatively at the way your underwear peaked out from where the t-shirt had bunched at your hips. “I want you in my shirt only.”
You watched him, entranced, as he took in the sight of you and muttered under his breath about how perfect you were for him, his eye dark with longing. Aemond moved downwards, nestling himself comfortably between your legs, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his mouth warm and inviting. 
When you whined impatiently he smiled, a wicked glint in his eye, and returned to his explorations, kissing his way closer to your core. Aemond never took his eye off you and you could see him watching you from where he teasingly licked at the skin where your thigh met your covered womanhood. The tension in your core tightened and you jerked when he wrapped his lips around your clothed clit and sucked hard. 
Strong hands held your hips down as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs. Again, you whined at him. “You’re not very patient are you? Already so wet for me that I can taste your delicious pussy through the fabric. Tell me what you want.”
You propped yourself on your elbows, your arms quivering under your weight and breath hitching when you noticed his own clothes had been haphazardly taken off. Aemond was ridding you of your mind and he had barely done anything. “More, Aemond. I want more.”
“More what?”
“More of you,” you whined again, mouth watering at the way he gazed at you from where he was nestled. “I want more of you.”
Aemond complied, pulling your panties off as soon as your hips had lifted on his command. He gave you a pointed look, scolding you gently when you gave him a shy whimper, moving to shut your legs so he couldn’t see you spread for him. 
“Spread your legs, pretty girl,” he let out a coarse breath when you wordlessly did as he said, baring yourself to him and gracing him with a sight more tempting than all the gold and jewels the world had to offer. Aemond’s hands guided your thighs apart encouragingly. “That’s it–little bit more.”
His gentle commands were both exhilarating and daunting. The weight of his gaze was both thrilling and intimidating, sending heat rushing to your cheeks and your cunt and the chuckle coming from the man between your legs was enough to tell you that he had seen you clench around nothing. 
Trailing his kisses from your knees and down your thighs once again, Aemond groaned, fisting the bottom of the shirt that rested against your raised thigh and licking a long stripe between your folds. It had you sucking in a breath, the sensation of his wet tongue suddenly exploring your cunt taking over every part of your mind and body, your fingers grasping at the sheets when he lapped at your clit and moaned into your wetness.
“Gods, Aemond-” you made the prettiest noises but Aemond’s cock jumped at the way you said his name, giving him a newfound fervour as he ferociously sucked at your clit, flicking it with his tongue. 
Nothing you had experienced with anyone had you trembling from sensitivity and pleasure so easily. His tongue and lips moved against you expertly and he let his arms wrap around your thighs as they rested against his shoulders, using his thumbs to spread you even more for him. 
Spit mixed with your wetness, creating a slick that dripped from your cunt and tainted his chin and his cheeks but Aemond seemed only to revel in it. His cock grew painfully hard at the beautiful sounds you made and the sweet, slightly tart and metallic taste of you on his tongue. 
At a particularly harsh suck on your clit, you jerked, legs clamping shut around Aemond’s head as you felt your orgasm building faster than you had expected. “Aemond. Oh fuck, it’s good-”
“Are you going to come for me, missy?” Aemond asked and the vibrations of his voice while he continued to feast on you had you moaning out an incoherent answer. He was watching you as you nodded, head thrown back so all that he could see over your body and his t-shirt was your chin and glimpses of your blissful expression. 
Shuddering and struggling to even your breathing, a heated pleasure took you with surprising intensity. Aemond continued to suck on you, delving into you with his tongue and teasing you with his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm, groaning at the way your body tensed and your pussy clenched. 
Placing a final kiss on your clit with a cheeky grin, making his way up your body, enjoying the way you continued to tremble and whimper under his touch. He took a nipple into his mouth through the shirt, teasingly only giving it a moment of attention before his lips were back on yours. 
Sharing the taste of you, Aemond kissed you hungrily despite having done the same within your folds only seconds ago. It was unbelievably hot in the room and you became dizzy with how your body gave into his, moulding against him perfectly as his hips found their place between your legs. 
Aemond’s voice was dark and confident, dripping with lust. 
But you salivated at the thought of taking him in your mouth and tried to push him back. “I want you in my mouth too.”
“Not tonight.” His hand found one of your breasts, touching you over the shirt. When you pouted at him, legs still jerking around his hips, Aemond softly moaned. “Aren’t you full of surprises? Good girl like you, so eager to suck me.”
Hot and heavy, Aemond grinded his cock against you, pressing it deliciously to your clit and then taking its place with his fingers. He wondered whether the pout on your lips would disappear when he pushed a digit into you, satisfied to see it fall away and be replaced with a furrow of your eyebrows and a silent gasp. 
Keening at both his words and the way that Aemond slid another finger in and curled them inside you, searching for that spot that had your toes curling, you were increasingly desperate to taste him now that you had felt how hard and ready he was for you. “Please, let me taste you.”
“You’ll have plenty of opportunities for that.” He sighed deeply when you moaned loudly, grasping at his shoulders and pressing your face into his neck. “I would kill to feel your pretty lips on my cock. Do you want to know what I think, missy?”
Aemond was intoxicating, sending your body into overdrive and your mind hazy with need. All you could do was nod, lost in the way he was perfectly bringing you to so much bliss. 
“I think,” he purred. “That I’m going to make you mine. And that I’ll fuck the well-behaved girl right out of you in each and every shirt that I own.”
Gasping for air as he pushed himself into you, replacing his fingers with his cock, you clung to him as he stretched you out. There was a sharp sting from his size but it subsided quickly and you could feel the effects of Aemond’s cock in you all the way down your legs and to your toes. 
Aemond’s breath hitched, his eye holding yours as he gave you time to adjust, jaw clenched and holding you tightly as if he’d fall to the pits of the hells if he were to let go of you. 
For someone he had just met properly only hours ago, Aemond thought he had found his own heaven in you and your body. 
You mewled, pushing your hips forward greedily. “It feels so good-so good, Aemond.”
He slowly moved his hips, hissing and letting his forehead fall to your shoulder where he bit down gently. The way Aemond pushed deeper into you at every thrust forward stole your breath from your lungs each time. He felt like he was a virgin once again, feeling the comfort of a wet, hot cunt for the first time, losing the control he had over the urge to claim you properly and spill into you already.
Aemond was no stranger to the pleasures of the body but never had he fallen victim to weakness by a woman and Aemond was of half a mind to understand that he would do anything you asked of him simply because your bodies were a carnally perfect fit. Right now, he would burn down cities if you asked him to. 
Keeping the steady pace, Aemond’s thrusts became more forceful, driving into you harder and drawing out nonsensical murmurs and whimpers from you. It was white-hot, each thrust sending a barrage of pleasure and sensitivity through your body. 
“If only they could see you now,” Aemond’s tone was deep, laced with lust and somewhat desperate as his hips snapped into you, the sound of skin against skin and his cock pushing lewd sounds from your wetness that couldn’t be drowned out by the distant thump of the party’s music. “The perfect, innocent girl that they all believe you to be, squeezing my cock like a good little slut. Just for me.”
Blissful, incoherent sounds that he pulled from only spurred him on further and you could feel how his cock twitched and moved within you. The way that Aemond’s body fit with yours was perfect and it had that tension return to your stomach, your skin tingling and toes curling as he sped up his movements. It was blinding and deafening at the same time, stealing your breath from you each time he dragged his cock out only to push it back in. 
Shaking and trembling, your legs squeezed around his hips and Aemond grunted, his head falling to your shoulder as he grabbed the flesh of your thigh and pushing it up and holding it beside you. Angling your hips perfectly, Aemond’s rough thrusts found a sensitive spot and you gasped, back arching off the bed as you gripped him tightly in your arms. You were barely of the right mind to notice him hiss when your nails scraped across his skin. 
Aemond was convinced he had found a version of peace in your body, the feeling of your warmth and wetness squeezing him, quieting the loud, painful thoughts that never ceased in his mind. He swore, his voice constrained and his fingers digging further into your flesh. There wouldn’t be a day that could go by in which he wouldn’t be haunted by your perfect cunt and pretty sounds. It was a thought that would have had him scoffing in any other circumstances but he was so lost in you that he couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. 
“You are so fucking-” he groaned. “Tight. Made to fit my cock perfectly.”
“Aemond-”
He chuckled, enjoying the way his name was the only word you could force out between your moans. Aemond’s hips stuttered as you clamped down around him, your eyes rolling back and falling shut as you turned away from him reflexively, pressing your head into the pillow and whining pathetically. 
“Yes, missy?” Aemond’s voice was constricted but still smooth. 
“Gonna come–I’m gonna come,” you gasped out between whimpers and moans, calling out his name as if he was your salvation.
Aemond let go of your thigh, his fingers clasping around your throat and squeezing the sides enough so that he could force your head out of the pillow. “Look at me when you come, pretty girl.”
When your eyes met his, you were surprised to see that his eyepatch hadn’t been discarded but couldn’t linger on the thought. Not with the way that overwhelming tension had become too much, coiling in your stomach and making you quiver underneath Aemond’s strong body, coming to its peak and snapping with an earth shattering, burning intensity that forced your entire world to go quiet. 
With strained gasps, Aemond’s peak quickly followed yours and he pulled out, surprised to see how swiftly your hand replaced his. You felt the ropes of his hot seed fall onto your stomach, the warmth of his breath against your skin as he buried his face into your neck, heaving as he rode through the strength of his orgasm. 
Strings of curses came from him as he let his body fall to the space beside you. Aemond barely wasted two seconds before pulling you into him so that your head rested against his chest as he held you against him. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, letting yourself melt into him, too spent to spare a thought for the mess on your stomach. “But I doubt I’ll be feeling so great tomorrow.”
A deep chuckle vibrated against your ear. “I’d apologise but I’m afraid I wouldn’t mean it.”
“Cheeky.”
Aemond took a hold of your wrist when you slapped his chest gently, bringing your hand up to place a kiss on your knuckles before letting his hand fall to that spot on your hip. “I wasn’t lying you know.”
“About?” You raised an eyebrow, craning your neck so that you could see his face without moving away from him. 
“I will take you out.” Aemond grinned, squeezing your flesh playfully. “And I will fuck you in every single one of my t-shirts.”
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butlervibesonly · 1 day ago
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𝑆𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 || Austin Butler
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• Summary : Y/n is having terrible day, feeling so tired and overwhelmed lately. Until she completely loses it, but Austin gets home and everything feels safe all of sudden.
• Pairing: Austin Butler x actress! reader
• Warnings !! : angst, mentions of panic attack, crying, trembling, swearing,...
• Note : Hope y'all doing well! I thought I could write this, because we all sometimes deserve a good cry and, well, please don't tell me that I'm the only one who feels so overwhelmed lately 😭
Day by day felt same for you. All the work, meetings every day, unfinished projects... It's like a circle going around. And it's enough for you. You're sitting in living room of yours and Austin's house, your laptop lay in your lap as one notification after another flashes across your screen. Meeting tomorrow 6:00 pm, video call with producer of your next movie 11:00 am, interview at 3:00 pm.
The living room was quiet, except for the fast clicking of your keyboard as you write response to an email. The weight of the week pressed heavily on your chest, making even the simple act of sitting still feel exhausting.
Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting you. It was your manager calling you. All of sudden you remember that the couch is not the place where you should be right now. “No, no, no,” you whispered, scrambling off the couch. "Y/n! Where are you, were supposed to be at a meeting right now!" she says, sounding furious. "Shit, I uh... Sorry, I completely forgot. Will I still be able to make it on time?"
"If you'll manage to get yourself here in like 5 minutes?" You hang up the call, not even bothering to answer her. Anxiety clawed at your chest as you tried to gather your things. In your rush, you tripp over the table's leg, knocking over the glass of water you’d been drinking earlier. It fell down with a loud crash, spilling the water all over the wooden floor.
"Fuck!" you hissed, staring at the mess. The tears fill your eyes, feeling a combination of the frustration and exhaustion you’d been bottling up. Your chest tightened, your breathing quickened, and suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in on you.
You can't move, not even think. All you're capable of is sitting down on the floor, leaning against the couch. You hide your face into your hands, sobbing loudly. You didn't think that it would be so much on you and certainly not that it would ruin you like this.
No longer after, you hear the door to the house being open. Austin's home. And you're here like this. This is what he comes home to. What a shame — Austin deserves to arrive to a tidy house where everything is as it should be while you sit here like this.
“Hey, I’m home,” his familiar voice filled the space, calm and grounding. The moment he saw you, he stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting to concern. "Sweetie, what’s going on?” You, don't replying, makes him cross the room quickly, kneeling beside you. His hands wraps you tightly. Austin actually notices the broken glass, which leads him to check if you have any cut.
"Hey, hey — Y/n, baby, what's the matter?" His voice was steady, soothing, and you clung to it like a lifeline. When he notices the laptop with tons of notes and unread emails, he gets it. He inhales slowly. “Doll, breathe okay? I'm here and I won't let you go." You nod, burying your head in his chest.
Austin holds you for a while, making you to steady your breathing. "That’s it. I’m here,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out," he says, his hand careful patting circles on your back.
You started to feel better, although, the tears didn’t stop. He pulls you into his arms more firmly, wrapping you in a hug so warm and secure it almost feels like there is nothing but him.
“It’s too much,” you choke out, mumbling against his chest. “I can’t do this anymore.” Austin and you talked about how overwhelmed you're feeling, but he didn't know it's this intensive.
“You don’t have to do it all at once, ya know,” he brush his fingers through your hair. "Why don't you ask me for a help? You know I'm here for you," you look up at him, your eyes red and swollen from all the crying.
"You've got a lot of your own and I don't want to bother you, Aus," you sob out. Austin smiles softly, cupping your cheek. "Baby, you never bother me, I'm here for you no matter what, okay?" he says. You nod, pulling closer to him again.
He stayed with you like this for few more minutes, holding you close, until your breathing steadied completely. And when you finally lifted your head, not crying anymore, his warm, understanding smile was waiting for you. “Why don’t we clean this up together? Then we’ll figure out the rest. Aight?” he kisses your forehead. "Mhm," you agree, grabbing his hand.
Austin wipes away tears from your cheeks, kissing you again, and helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. In his arms, the chaos of the week seemed just a little less overwhelming. In his arms, you feel safe, loved and cared about. And it's perfect.
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sweetkpopmusings · 1 day ago
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miserable (you & me) | h. hyunjin <3
a/n: i have had these blurbs in my drafts FOREVER. "miserable (you & me)" is a song i've had on repeat since it dropped. i'm also a sucker for angst, so please enjoy these self-indulgent posts (they all have happy endings, i promise!) there will be one for each member, so stay tuned <3 pics not mine~
content: angst, happy ending | wc: 1k | warnings: none really! | pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader | requests:open
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
난 가망이 없는 미래에 손을 뻗어 날 부었네 / “i stretched out my hand towards a hopeless future and poured myself out”
of course it would be raining right now. the day’s weather had been normal, a smattering of clouds above and an overcast glow hinting that the weather might take a turn for the worse, but nothing was set in stone. that turned out to be true in a more literal sense, hyunjin realized, while watching people mill about on the street below with freshly opened umbrellas. he scoffed. what did you think would happen? what did you think would change?
the answer was nothing. but i had no choice.
you and hyunjin met up for your usual weekend get-together, returning to a favorite drink spot of yours after a few weekends of schedules keeping you apart. he had missed you so dearly, something that became achingly clear when his whole body lit up from seeing your face peek through the entrance. you noticed the buzz in his body when he greeted you, a sweet laugh escaping your lips. hyunjin’s heart melted at the sound, collapsing even more into endearment when you said, “i missed you a ton, too.”
a moderate number of people took up the tables and seats in the building, so there was a comfortable hum of casual conversation surrounding you. hyunjin, as always, was so closely tuned into the sound of your voice, he would’ve believed you if you said the place was completely empty. it was clichéd for sure, but he was enraptured by every single thing you said. he loved listening to all your thoughts, stories, jokes, anecdotes; whatever you were willing to share with hyunjin, he’d accept with open and grateful hands. you both laughed as you finished telling him an embarrassing story your friend shared with you the other day, and, so you could take a sip of your drink, you asked hyunjin, “how are you?”
without skipping a beat, hyunjin answered, “i’ve liked you for the longest time.”
seeing as that was quite the unexpected answer to your question, you froze. your brain buffered, face showing barely any expression, except maybe shock or confusion. hyunjin, perhaps realizing what just occurred, reacted with wide eyes and frantic apologies. if his confession hadn’t stopped you so sharply in your tracks, the endless refrain of i’m so sorry! i don’t know why i did that. i’m so stupid! would have drowned out the words he spoke so naturally. you didn’t have time to process, but you tried to protest against hyunjin’s incessant apologies. this, it seemed, was fruitless.
hyunjin, with shaking legs and fumbling hands, gathered his things. 
“hyunjin, what’re you–”
“i should go, y/n,” he responded quickly, too quickly for him to mean it.
your heart broke at the way his voice cracked when he said your name, “no, just stay for a minute. please, i–”
his chest tightened when please fell from your lips, but he couldn’t bear the idea of you begging him to stay, only to tell him you didn’t feel the same. yes, it was immature, and, sure, it was probably selfish. yet all hyunjin could think to do was leave. so he did, his goodbye all staggered breaths and darting eyes.
you turned in your chair, barely catching his gaze as he raced to who knows where, “hyunjin?”
his eyes caught yours, and he ripped them away before he lost his foolish resolve. he hoped he offered you a soft smile, something to say i’m sorry for this. i just want you to be happy, and i guess this is me trying to make sure you stay that way. the adrenaline rush meant he couldn’t feel his face, though. he had no way of knowing what he looked like when he looked back at you. 
hyunjin’s whole trip home consisted of pleas for his legs to move faster. if his steps hit the ground hard enough, he could ignore all the scolding voices inside his head until he was safe in his room. if he were honest with himself, he was outrunning the look of shock on your face, and the way your voice fell when you asked him to stay. hyunjin, as he caught his breath in his room, realized that running away from you meant he ended up in front of his window, facing a future of heartbreak. a sardonic laugh broke free from his lips. maybe if you did it the right way, at the right moment, you’d be looking at them instead. maybe you’d be thinking of something other than angsty plotlines for the strangers passing by on the street below. 
“or maybe i could be hurt much worse,” he whispered to himself. 
that was the last sound that shared space with hyunjin in the room. he sat, mind racing and leg bouncing, completely silent. until someone knocked on the door.
hyunjin shuffled to the entryway, instinctively opening it at a familiar knock, only coming to when he saw you standing before him. of course, no matter how hard he tried, his body would always end up right in front of you.
ignoring the way his deflated figure twisted your chest up in all the worst ways, you chided, “you know it’s rude to confess to someone and leave immediately after, right? you didn’t give me a chance to respond.”
you huffed as you spoke. hyunjin couldn’t help the endeared smile that graced his face when he watched your frustrated, furrowed brow turn into a cute, unintentional pout. 
he thought, they are more precious to me than they’ll ever know, and he admitted, “you’re right. it was very rude of me. while i may not deserve to hear it after the way i acted, would you mind telling me what you were going to say?”
your shoulders relaxed as the familiar shine in hyunjin’s eyes returned. his beautiful smile came back too, as he watched your face light up with a reply he’d only ever dreamed of before.
“i like you too, hyunjin. i have for the longest time.”as though his hands weren’t shaking from anxiety a mere five minutes before this moment, hyunjin reached out to you, pulling you into his home and into his arms. when you accepted his invitation and melted into his embrace, hyunjin thought, i’ll pour my heart out to them again and again, if it means we’ll always end up right here, together.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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vickytaa · 14 hours ago
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Music keeps me alive. M.S. Chapter IV
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sumerry: y/n's father passed away, and she moved to Boston to finish school. She always keeps her headphones on, only she knows the reason why. What happens when she meets Matt?
Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III
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Y/n Pov:
I was never a big fan of parties, especially when I didn't know anyone, but being next to Matt always calmed me down a bit. After the thing with Emily, everything felt weird and uncomfortable, but the guys quickly noticed it on my face and made me feel at ease again.
“Honey, I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back,” I told Matt, who kissed me on the forehead and let go of my hand so I could go. It didn't take long, or well, a little bit. I just did my business and touched up my makeup a bit, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back out. The party wasn’t bad, and getting to know the guys' friends better is great, it's just that I was tired and I've never been one to go to these parties, but if Matt liked it and it made him happy, obviously I was going to go with him.
As I walked in, I was met with a crowd of sweaty bodies dancing together, which made me a little uncomfortable. But when I found Nick talking to Chris, everything else faded away. Reaching the circle where everyone was chatting, I saw him. Matt was wrapping his arm around Emily's waist, just like he used to with me. He must have made a mistake. But how could he not realize it wasn't me? Maybe he'd just had too much to drink... But Matt doesn't drink much. I was approaching them when I saw Emily grab his jaw and kiss him. He didn't pull away, he kissed her back. How? Why? Didn't anyone notice that I wasn't the one with Matt?
Without realizing it, my eyes had filled with tears and some rolled down my cheeks. My breath caught in my throat. My heart ached. Those few seconds of their kiss felt like years to me. I felt invisible, until Matt heard a sob coming from me and turned around. That's when he realized that the girl he was kissing wasn't his girlfriend, it was Emily.
I was in shock, my world was falling apart, again. "What? Y/n?" I heard Matt say, looking completely confused. I had trusted him, I had told him things about myself that I never thought I would tell anyone else. I couldn't think of anything else, I wanted to get out of there, away from everything, from everyone, lock myself in my room and never come out. So I did, I turned around and started running through the crowd, while I heard Matt shouting for me to stop as he ran after me.
"Y/n! Wait!" Matt repeated, his voice desperate. I had managed to get out of the house, but hearing him cry made me unable to contain my pain and I turned around, this time stopping. "Y/n, I- I didn't- I didn't realize that... that it wasn't you. I had too much to drink and when she..." Matt started to speak, trying to explain what happened, but I couldn't take anymore pain, so much betrayal, so much everything. "No, Matt!" I tried to interrupt him, but I couldn't. He had come very close and grabbed my arms tightly, afraid I would leave. "I thought you had already come back and..." "Matt! Stop!" I yelled, now desperate because I couldn't escape. Matt stood still, slowly raising his gaze that was fixed on the floor to meet mine. My tears were now falling uncontrollably, despite my enormous effort to stop them. "Matt, let go of me," I said, now in a softer, lower tone. But he didn't let go. "I don't want you to leave Y/n. Please," Matt started begging me not to leave, which hurt me even more, but I had to stay strong and respect myself. "No, Matt. Now let me go," I said again in the same tone. "No, no, no, please don't go, I need you," Matt said as he began to kneel in front of me. He was crying uncontrollably, begging me please not to leave, grabbing my legs. "Matt let go of me!" I shouted and my voice cracked.
Hearing my voice crack, Matt let go of me. I quickly ran away from there, not wanting to hear anything else from anyone. I didn't know where I was going or how long I was going to walk, all I knew was that at that moment I needed my dad. He had always been there for me in the best and worst of times, always trying to make me feel better. Even though sometimes I didn't quite understand what he was saying, he always found a way to see the good in the situation, or a way to make me feel good, no matter how bad the situation was. For example, when my cat Sherlock died, he made sure to be there for me the whole month, giving me gifts, affection, making me laugh, despite the fact that I wanted to cry, among many other things that I had never realized I needed until he was gone.
And that left a huge void in me, a pain in my chest, a sadness and a need for him to come back, not at 2 in the morning at my lowest point of mental breakdown, but when I was laughing with my cousins while playing at the last family dinner all together.
I didn't need the music. When I said it kept me alive, it was a lie, what kept me alive was the memory of my dad. The countless nights I spent sleeping in his arms while listening to his favorite records, the road trips singing at the top of our lungs while mom laughed at how much we were alike, that's what kept me alive.
After an hour of walking in the middle of a neighborhood I didn't know, I decided to order an Uber home. The ride was quick, I got home and opened the door, still in costume. "Hi honey! How-" My mom started talking until she looked into my eyes. "What happened to you? Are you okay?" She started asking me a million questions, but I wasn't really listening. I couldn't feel anything but pain. Why does something bad always have to happen when I'm having a good time? It broke my heart to see myself so vulnerable in front of my mom, not knowing what else to do but wanting to run away from everything, like we had done when Dad died. My mom understood that I wasn't going to talk now so she hugged me. She knew I needed my father there, and maybe that wasn't something he would have done, but now he wasn't there and she had to find a way to make me feel a little better. I was crying uncontrollably, and my mom's hug made me cry more, but it helped me, because I felt more comfortable expressing my feelings, I felt accompanied, I felt at home. After a while hugging, my mom helped me go to bed and lay down next to me. Maybe I'll never say it, but I was very grateful to her.
That night, I could sleep very little, so my mom let me sleep a couple more hours and then try to talk about what happened yesterday. When I woke up, I stretched and grabbed my phone. There were thousands of messages and missed calls from Matt, but I couldn't even start looking at them when my eyes started to fill with tears again. I decided that maybe I wouldn't want to see my phone for a few days, so I just turned it off and got out of bed. My mom was making breakfast, like every day. "Good morning, my love. How are you feeling?" she asked. How do I feel? It was my time to speak, to explain everything that had happened, to talk about everything that has been happening to me lately since Dad died, to talk about my desire to leave, to talk. But who cares? If I have a problem, the problem is mine and I have to solve it myself, if I talk to someone I'm sure I'll bother them, I can't talk. If I talk, I cry. Why can't I explain what I feel like everyone else?
I simply swallowed my urge to cry and nodded. I sat down for breakfast and just sat there, staring at the plate of food in front of me. "Y/n, please," Mom said without explanation. I started eating. When I finished, I went upstairs to go back to sleep. I had nothing else to do. When I got up, I would just stare at the ceiling, not knowing what to do. Read? I couldn't form a complete sentence in my mind. Listen to music? I can't even hear my own thoughts. Talk to someone? I cry.
The moments from last night replayed over and over in my mind. The turn the night took, before we went out we were all doing great, happy, and at the end we didn't even leave the party together. I wonder what Matt is thinking, what he's doing. Is he thinking about me? Why would he think about me now if he didn't think about me before kissing Emily? God. I need to sleep and never wake up again.
The emptiness inside me grew bigger and bigger. I don't know if I'll ever trust anyone again. I feel broken and alone, as if the world around me is falling apart and there's nothing I can do but watch it crumble. I don't understand why he would want to make me believe he was in love with me and that he loved me only to break my heart. A big part of me wanted to talk to him and tell him what a jerk he is, the other part wanted to believe that it was an accident and that there's still hope.
The following days were the same, I only left my room to eat or go to the bathroom, I missed a whole week of school, I left my phone off, in short, I disappeared for everyone except my mom. She understood that I didn't want to go to school now because I didn't want to see Matt's face, but she refused when I asked if we could move because if I did anything here it reminded me of him, and that hurt me a lot. "No, honey, we're not moving again." I was crying again, begging her to leave. "Mom, please!" I said in my broken voice, full of pain. My mom's heart broke seeing me like that, but she couldn't take a step back again. "Honey, listen, when your father... passed away, I couldn't go back home because I was afraid of having to start over without him. He was the engine of my life." Her eyes began to fill with tears, she paused to catch her breath and spoke again, "That's why we moved, because I couldn't go back home and see all his things. But now that some time has passed, I could think about it better and I think maybe it wasn't the best thing on my part, because with that I taught you that if something bothers you you have to run away from it, and no, you have to talk. I barely knew Matt, but he seems like a good guy, and it shows that he really loves you and would never do anything to make you feel bad." She finished and I saw a tear fall and roll down her face. "Mom..." I said in a weak voice. "Honey, talk to him." "I... I can't," and with that I ran to my room and locked myself in again.
When the weekend arrived, I found myself out of my room, in the living room, listening to music again after so many days. As the first song was about to start, I heard the doorbell ring. Who was it? I wondered. Honestly, I didn't want to see anyone, especially at that moment, because I had red and swollen eyes, my hair in a messy bun, a big t-shirt and shorts.
But I didn't think about it much either, so I quickly got up from the couch and walked to the door. The doorbell rang again, it seemed like the person behind the door was desperate. "I'm coming!" I said, a little annoyed by the impatience. I opened the door and there was Nick, who looked very worried, and as if he had been crying, but little compared to what I had cried. "Y/n, I need help," Nick said. I knew this was serious, because he went straight to the point, without greeting or anything. Before I could ask, Nick explained what was happening: "Matt... he's not eating, he's not talking, he won't leave the room, Y/n please, we've tried everything, but-" I interrupted him, "Wait, wait, what happened to him?" I couldn't believe it, Matt was bad, very bad. Could it be because of...? "When you ran out that night, we went after Matt and found him crying on the floor. We took him home, we tried to talk to him, but he doesn't answer, he just locked himself in the room and won't come out. I'm afraid he's going to do something bad. I'm scared, Y/n."
I knew what happened between us had affected him, but hearing it from Nick? This is terrible. Nick is never afraid of anything. I knew I had to do something to help his brother, as much as it hurt me, Nick and his brothers were still my friends and seeing him so devastated broke my heart.
I tried to calm him down a bit, we spent some time together, but my mind was fixed on Matt, I had to help him. So when Nick left, I turned on my phone, after a few days off. And there were millions of messages from Matt, of all kinds, but they all ended with an 'I love you, I'm sorry'. I can't deny that my heart didn't break as I read the messages.
I couldn't wait any longer, there was no more time, I changed into a more comfortable outfit, greeted my mom and left the house, to head towards the triplets' house.
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a/n: I cried writing this chapter. What happens when she goes to their house? I can't wait
love yall:))
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@itsastridsart I'm so so so sorry this took so long to write and yet it's still going to be split into parts, but I've got a plot for this story!
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Featuring: Passive/Nightmare sans x reader
Masterlist
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Once in a Nightmare.
|First Chapter|Next Chapter|
You met Nightmare before everything. When he was still the pure soul of the past. Your AU had been destroyed by it's own creator, as they thought it was "too cringe", you didn't know how you managed to escape, but your wings came in handy, being an angel-demon hybrid has it's vantages.
Having nothing else to do, you decided to travel through the multiverse, passing from universe to universe without really caring about the people there, it's not like they could replace the missing feeling of your dimension.
And then you discovered dreamtale.
There was something off with it, you felt it the first time you visited. And the second. And the third. That skeleton that was always next to that tree.. he looked so.. familiar.. as if you had known him before..
You just snug it off and appeared right next to him, ready to start a talk and never return!
But your grin faded away when you saw his beat up, having injuries all over his bones and skull, his face facing you in terror as you touched his cheek.
"What... Happened to you..?"
Silence.
"...I can't leave you like this."
You came prepared for situations like this, for fell universes people, for yourself, it didn't matter for who it was. What mattered was that you were already wrapping his injuries up, disinfecting and cleaning them.
It didn't take much time for him to warm up to you, the only person who didn't have a burning hate for him, and it didn't take long for him to gain feelings.
.
He adored you, everything, the way you treated him, your sweet and caring touch as you treated his injuries, it hurt so bad, but he loved the way you'd be with him, making sure he's okay...
And when you accepted his feelings after he confessed? Oh dear he was head over heels, he was almost crying of happiness.
"..(_____)?"
"Yes?"
"Can you... Promise me something..?"
"Of course Nightmare!"
"Please.. never ever leave me alone.. please promise me we'll be together.. forever.."
"I promise Nightmare, I promise."
He held your hand, a ring on his finger and a ring in yours, you both are going to be married soon...
He made you promise. Promise never to leave him.
Until the accident happened.
One day you came back and everything was... Destroyed. Dream was stone, everyone was dead. And the worse, a gloomy skeleton standing in the middle, sitting at the now cut tree. You recognized him. The moon ring on his finger gave it all away. It was Nightmare. The man who you once loved, even with a different visual, you knew who he was. You didn't think twice and fled, you couldn't just believe it... This was just a bad dream... Right?
You kept the ring on your finger, it was the only memory that remained of him.. even after decades, centuries, you refused any man's advance, like you were waiting for a certain someone..
Rumours spread around the multiverse, and quickly found a skeleton's attention..
.
"Let me go!"
You screamed as your body was carried by three skeletons who had just broken into your house and kidnapped you, restraining your movements with ropes tied around your wrists, wings and legs.
"Heh, afraid we can't do that, boss told us to bring ya to him"
"Who?"
No response.
The skeleton with black eyes only chuckled and continued walking, you saw a gloomy gigantic castle in the distance.. you feel like the energy of this place is familiar..
It didn't take long for you to be inside, fancy cyan decor filled the halls, the skeleton, whose name you learned to be Killer in the way here, led you to a dinning room and sat you on one of the chairs, telling you to wait for his "boss".
Some paintings of someone who looked oddly similar to you with a black skeleton decorated the walls as a cyan-purplish light coming from a gold chandelier illuminated the room, you looked at the elongated dark wood table that had an irregular oval pattern in front of you and then at the dark cyan chairs with small golden details surrounding it.
You suddenly felt a tentacle wrap around your eye line, you tried to get it off, yet the ropes tied around your body didn't help. But as soon as it came it left, facing you with a plate of food placed on the table and the same skeleton of the paintings sited right in the chair in front of you.
"My my, look what we have here.."
The sound of his rough and deep voice filled your ears, his eye looking into the depths of your soul as a smirk formed in his face.
"Missed me, (_____)?"
".. W-who on earth are you.."
His expression shifted to an offended one, one of his hands touching his chest.
"Don't even remember your own fiance my dear?"
He exaggerated, showing the moon ring in his bony finger making you freeze for a second.
"I don't know where you found that ring, by my fiance is long dead."
"Oh no no no darling, is it too difficult for you to understand?" He pauses. "I'm your fiance, my dear."
He laughs as a tentacle untied the rope of your wrists and grabs your hand, showing you the sun ring on your own finger.
"My sunshine... I know you remember the promise you made. And I know you still love who I was... So.. why not love the new me huh?"
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leonawriter · 1 day ago
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I'm thinking of Akira never really talking about it or bringing it up during the engine room, or third semester, but after they meet again at some point he slips and let's out that he was sure Akechi must have enjoyed walking into that small room with a gun in his hand. It's just a passing comment.
It's not as though Akira makes a big deal over it, or as if he's upset or starts asking for apologies.
Quite the opposite, in fact - Akechi's mind skirts away, he tries to push Akira away by pointing out how he'd not felt any remorse, and instead he gets Akira wanting to know what he must have looked like, if it was anything like how he shoots down shadows- no, wait, he had a silencer, right?
It gets to the point that Akechi can't handle Akira being so blasé about his own murder anymore, and he snaps at him to stop it. Akira looks at him in shock.
Then, Akira slowly points out that sure, he'd thought that it was morbidly fascinating, he'd thought that was how it'd happened - but he also hadn't wanted Akechi to think less of him for being weak over it... or to let Akechi think he could use it as a "proof" that they would only hurt each other.
"Okay," Akira says, "let's try this again. From the top. You know pretty much what happened on my end. We explained it all. So, tell me your side."
Akechi does. Finding it hard to resist pushing, at times, but Akira's eyes have a certain quality that forces him to be honest, as though he can tell that Akechi is just putting on a mask to please or to push him.
Some months later, when they're back in the Metaverse and an enemy inflicts Crow with despair, when Crow starts to go quiet and saying things about how he can't bear it, that he kills everyone he loves, Akira Gets It, fully, and the image of his rival as someone who acts like a sentai villain when he needs to do things like shoot his rival in the head cracks and shatters.
Somehow, he's both mildly disappointed (the fantasy had been a fun one to live in) and also relieved (Akechi feels more human, and he feels a little more sure of Akechi loving him meaning something beyond violence).
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ri-writes-if · 2 days ago
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I just finished reading the new chapter and damn! It was such a rollercoaster of emotions!
And I can't even begin to describe just how much I hate Selene! Not saying it in a bad way though, just to be clear! She's just the kind of character I can't stand, even if she's delightfully written. Az suggested to my MC to be cordial with her for the time being, and the plan is sound, but damn, it'll be hard. She's that kind of character I find interesting because I think her circumstances are awful and tragic, but at the same time I can't bring myself to feel bad for her because it doesn't justify the way she currently acts (as explaining someone's behavior is not the same as justifying it). With that being said, I thank you so SO much for allowing us to tell the siblings (well, the siblings in my case since I'm on Az's route) about Selene already. I was genuinely scared it would be one of these situations where the MC just clams up and doesn't tell anyone about what's happening for who knows how many chapters, which is a trope I really tend to dislike. It was such a pleasant surprise to avoid it altogether!
Now, onto more "positive feelings", I'm so in love with Az. They are such a wonderful character on all accounts. The clothing and ring shopping was just so perfect, and damn that hug! Though I'm really insanely curious about what is the underlying issue they have in relation with the MC. I sort of "felt" it already before in the way they acted, but now thanks to the PoV change I had their actual thoughts on it, but I'm no closer to knowing what's going on, though at least I had confirmation of what I felt about it (so I guess it's still something!). It still fascinates me how Az isn't even "my type" of RO normally, and in any other story I would have probably picked one of the two royals, but I don't know, something about them immediately captured me entirely. I'm also pretty curious about what's the relationship between the siblings, because the more I think about them, the more I realize I don't know much about their dynamics. With the two royals, we at least know more of their dynamics thanks to some asks on the blog and what not, but the two siblings... I don't recall you saying much. And well, in that infirmary scene, it was a bit hard to read it considering they were both preoccupied with the MC and their injury and the Selene stuff and so on.
That aside, after re-reading from scratch (I changed computers and don't have my saves anymore), I had a theory that sprung in my mind. I think there is indeed an oracle blocking MC's visions of their own future that is NOT Selene. And that oracle would be MC's mother. She may be a powerful enough oracle to see pretty far in the future, and it's possible she saw something in her child's future that had her deciding to not only abandon them, but prevent them from seeing their future. Or rather, the future she saw. Meaning as long as MC was on a path or time frame where what she saw wouldn't appear to them, then they could see their future normally. But once they found themself on said path - probably related to the apocalyptic vision at the start of the game - it triggered the "block" as now we enter the territory of what MC's mother saw and thus knows well enough to block. Of course, I may be wildly overthinking it or just be plain wrong haha!
Oh and finally, a small bit of (I assume?) stray code:
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I don't think the "cordial" is meant to be there?
Okay, that's it. Yeah, it's a VERY long ask that... isn't even an "ask" since I'm not asking anything! But I had so many feelings about this chapter! It was probably the best so far!
! Spoilers for Chapter 5
I hoped some would like Selene and some would not, so I’m pleased to see people have different feelings about her! I personally really love her because she’s a tragic character and tragic characters are my thing 😂 though I agree that her past doesn’t justify her current actions.
Yeahh. I was thinking of allowing to hide the incident with Selene, but the Oracle has their priorities straight, so it wouldn’t make sense for their character to sacrifice their own standing for Selene. They went to Vez to get their freedom back, and they’re not giving it away so easily. So I had to throw out that branch.
I’m happy you enjoyed Az’s route, especially considering they’re not your type! You’ll learn what their deal is with the Oracle in the future 😉 The next couple of chapters should have more Az + Ash combo, so I’ll have time to show their dynamic. But they’re pretty uh normal siblings? Az is a troublemaker, and Ash’s perpetually but fondly tired of their antics.
Your theory was very interesting to read. Thank you for sharing it! It’s wild and cool that people actually have theories about my story 🥺 Obviously I can’t confirm or deny it, but you’ll get the answer eventually.
Thanks for pointing that out, I’ll remove that code leftover.
I appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts about the chapter. Reading these messages brings me joy every time! 💛
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eregyrn-falls · 1 day ago
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^^^^^^ !!!!!
There's so much I'd like to add but it would be carrying coals to Newcastle. Great post! (And a lot of great tag-rants in the notes, too.)
I did want to add one thought to this set of tags from @achromaticegoist, about the punch in particular.
It took me a long while to realize it, but not only is the punch reflective of a whole lot of things about Ford's state of mind on his arrival back through the portral... but, it also serves as some really interesting closure (and I'm not even sure the writers realized it).
In the episode, it's told out of order, so we see the punch FIRST. But later in the ep, when we see the fight that led to Ford going through the portal in the first place, what happens is that he and scan are scuffling, and there's that moment when Ford pushes Stan off with his foot and inadvertantly presses Stan against the glowing (apparently red-hot) symbol on the side of the control panel.
Stan screams in pain, of course. And immediately, Ford is suddenly worried, and contrite. He says, "Stanley! Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Are you alr-"
And Stan punches him in the face.
That punch is what sends Ford stumbling out into the portal room and falling against the activation lever; and landing inside the danger zone. Ford does get up, but before he gets a chance to say anything else, Stan shoves the journal into his chest, Ford begins to float, and the disaster unfolds from there.
We don't spend enough time thinking that, basically, from Ford's point of view (if he replayed those last moments over and over in his head, as he probably did), the last things that Stan did to him was: punch him in the face, and then shoving him into the portal. The latter was accidental (though disastrous); but the first kind of wasn't. Ford stopped fighting, switching to concern and apology. While Stan lashing out due to the pain is understandable, Stan's punch is what prevents the fight from being over.
Ford coming out of the portal 30 years later and immediately punching Stan in the face kind of creates a book-end with that earlier punch from Stan, doesn't it? Ford getting to hit back the way he didn't (wouldn't?) 30 years ago. (He stands up, but he just stands there angrily staring at and listening to Stan as he approaches. He doesn't try to leap at Stan again or try to wrestle him for the book, etc. Was Ford, effectively, done fighting the moment Stan got seriously hurt?)
As I said, I'm not sure the writers were thinking about that consciously. I don't remember hearing them comment about it (i.e. that Ford's punch was a mirror of the punch that Stan gave him 30 years prior). But I do like to look at what's written and think about it in terms of, these scenes are deliberately written, the way it goes and the details included are chosen, often at the end of a long process of collaboration. I think that what's chosen for the final version is always very interesting.
And I just don't often see people discuss that moment where Ford stops fighting, and immediately becomes worried and apologetic. Not least because, like... up to that point in the series, we haven't seen Stan be apologetic very often. A few times, yes! And it's always notable when he does it. It clashes with the exterior he presents to the world; the man for whom saying "Please" gives him physical pain, etc. Some of which is meant for laughs, too! And some of which is just the product of being hardened by experience and so on.
It tells us something, I think, that Stan truly getting hurt, and screaming in pain, is enough to end Ford's desire to fight. That even after 10+ years of estrangement, he's that ready to be concerned for Stan; and that he's that ready with an apology. Later reads of Ford (post-portal) will portray him as the man who won't say "thank you", and I have other thoughts and feelings about that. But getting back to this, it's the show's choice to have Ford stop their fight and make a slight turn towards a sort of reconciliation. When they could have easily just had him and Stan keep fighting and struggling and the portal turn on because of that. It's such an interesting writing decision; and I just don't hear people dig into what it means for the characters very often.
What's your stance on Ford as a person? Honestly, I believe that for thr majority of canon he is a bad person. But I believe he grew. Still not great though XD
(Love him anyways obvs)
I disagree entirely! I think he's equally as good a person as any of the other main cast.*
*Except Mabel, who, as we all know, is always right about everything.**
(**This is a lighthearted joke. For the love of god, I don't want Mabel discourse in my inbox.)
His biggest sins in the show:
After telling his brother that he was thinking about changing their shared life plans, and then discovering that his brother had gone to the high school that night for no good reason and gone to the science fair for no good reason and messed around near Ford's science project for no good reason and broke it and didn't tell Ford about it... Ford believed Stan did it intentionally and held a grudge for it. You know what, it WOULD be pretty damn hard to believe it was an accident.
Hilariously ill-equipped to cope with Fiddleford's mental health. A guy who responds to "I have anxiety" with "have you tried yoga, it helps me" isn't a bad person, he's clueless. "Character cheerfully enacts a bad idea while a loved one in the background goes NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT" describes half the episodes of Gravity Falls.
Was successfully manipulated by a professional manipulator into believing his best friend wished him ill. Man, what a terrible person Ford is for being manipulated by a manipulator and saying cruel things to somebody he'd been genuinely convinced was trying to harm him.
??? Didn't say thanks to a guy he was still mad at after the guy fixed a problem he himself had caused. This is a solitary example of stubborn bad etiquette, jesus christ. There's half a dozen different reasons why it makes perfect sense Ford wasn't in the right mindset to feel grateful, this is not something worth indicting his entire character over.
He had high ambitions, which everyone seems to lambast him for, but high ambitions that wouldn't have required doing anybody harm! (Until the professional manipulator started manipulating him into harming the people around him, but we are going to demonstrate some reading comprehension and not blame Ford's underlying morality as a person for things he never would've done if not for Bill's bullying, con artistry, and outright lies.) Like, what is it that he wanted to do with his life? Use his talents to get rich and famous? Shit, that's exactly what Stan wanted to do with his life. It's what Dipper fantasizes about doing with his life. Even Mabel, who thinks about her long-term future the least, dreams big with her art & performances and is already making big money off cheap-ass commissions. What terrible people they all are, for—let me check my notes here—uhhh... unrealistically fantasizing about achieving success in life by doing the things they're good at.
When their dad accuses Stan of lying as a child, Ford puts his entire summer on the line to defend Stan even though he knows Stan is a habitual liar and has no reason to believe Stan is telling the truth this time.
When his new college roommate he barely even knows gets laughed at for proposing an outlandish scientific theory, his first emotion is outrage at this injustice and he drops everything to convince his already-despondent roommate that he was right and help him prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
When he moves to a new town, he tries again and again to befriend his new neighbors, and fails not because he's rude or a jerk, but because he's awkward as hell, tells terrible jokes, and sucks at identifying phoenixes.
When Fiddleford gets hurt around him, he cares about it, feels guilty about putting him in that position, doesn't want it to happen again, and tries his best to help even though he's bad at helping.
When he gets kidnapped by a weird holiday folklore creature, he concludes without even thinking about it that he's now in charge of protecting and rescuing the kidnapped kids. Yeah, then he immediately starts hollering at the folklore creature for trying to impose his religious beliefs on Ford and the kids—but like, Ford was right tho, he just had bad timing.
When he discovers that the Northwest family committed atrocities against their poorer neighbors a century ago, his first instinct is to march up to their house, find the first Northwest he can locate, and give them a piece of his mind for it. Like, this won't even FIX anything. He's just THAT OUTRAGED over the injustice.
When he sees what he thinks is a fortune telling fraud conning the people, he attempts to debunk her because he's mad to see someone cheating other people with lies—and when he can't debunk her, he just leaves her alone rather than harass her about it. Typically, if assholes think somebody's doing something wrong but don't have any proof of it and fail to get proof when they look, they decide they're right anyway and keep giving that person shit. Ford doesn't give her shit. That's the opposite of an asshole move.
When he discovers his Portal To Knowledge (And Fame & Fortune) is actually a Portal To Doom (But Still Possibly Fame & Fortune, Maybe Even Godly Power), he isn't tempted for a second to keep working on it anyway. There is no moment where Bill manages to tempt him. No matter what Bill offers, no matter how long Bill offers, never, at ANY point, does Ford have a SECOND of "but what if I did make a deal with the devil?" the way so many heroes in similar situations often do.
You ever notice that? So often moral moments in the show are presented as choices the characters make. Will or won't Dipper give Bill a "puppet" in exchange for knowledge. Will or won't Stan fight a pterodactyl to protect Mabel's pig. Will or won't Mabel hand Bipper the journal. Ford is never given a "will or won't he" moment over Bill's threats, offers of friendship, or offers of infinite power—he steamrolls straight past them without a second of consideration—because, to him, the selfish, cowardly, easy choice ISN'T EVEN AN OPTION. He doesn't even SEE it as making a choice because the possibility of doing the wrong thing is invisible. A character who wavers first before turning Bill down would look more noble for "overcoming" temptation—it's harder to notice just how much stronger Ford's moral compass must be to not even feel temptation in the first place.
Greed and pride never tempt him to join Bill's side. Exhaustion, despair, and fear never tempt him to give up. He bears up under weeks, possibly months of extreme sleep deprivation, physical torture, psychological torture, emotional torture, threats of death, threats of brainwashing, threats to his family. He doesn't hold up so that he can pat himself on the back for being a hero—if that was all it was he would've gone "screw it, this isn't worth it and nobody would know I'm the one who gave up" a week in—he does it because he simply knows it must be done and because he's so isolated (half because of Bill's influence!) that he believes he's the one who must do it, all alone.
Thinking he has to do it by himself isn't egotism or pride; it's helplessness. He thinks no one else stands a chance. He thinks he's alone.
And, when he discovers his Portal To Knowledge is a Portal To Doom, he immediately feels guilty. No trying to deny the situation to protect his ego. No shuffling the blame off to someone else. No "maybe the apocalypse could have a silver lining!" No locking the door and trying to ignore the problem. He blames himself for being fooled—he IMMEDIATELY takes full responsibility for his actions—and he CONTINUES to take responsibility FOR THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS.
He takes more responsibility than is even warranted—he treats himself like he's an idiot for believing in an APPARENT GOD who's been practicing manipulating humans for thousands of years and who had never given Ford reason to believe the portal was anything but what Bill said it was. He beats himself up to no end every single time his past with Bill comes up. He even keeps beating himself up thirty years later when he's shoving warning notes to future readers in Bill's evil unkillable book!
When he falls into the multiverse, he dedicates his entire life NOT to finding a way to rescue himself, but to finding a way to permanently stop the CHAOS GOD who's still at the threshold of destroying Ford's world and countless others. He makes himself a hated criminal in the process, just to stop Bill. He's ready to spend the rest of his life trying to protect a world he doesn't think he'll ever see again. He does it because, as he sees it, somebody has to stand in between the children and the obnoxious folklore cryptid menacing them, and he's the only adult in this damn cave with the skills and knowledge for the job.
When he gets home, he doesn't tell his family about Bill and his quest because he's afraid that doing so will get them involved and endanger them too—and because he's too deeply ashamed of himself and his mistakes to stand the thought of his family knowing about the horrible things he's done (AGAIN, WHILE BEING MANIPULATED BY THE GOD OF MANIPULATION).
He loves his great-niece and great-nephew the second he lays eyes on them; he nevertheless tries to steer away from them to keep them safe from Bill; and yet he caves to the very first temptation to emotionally bond with his great-nephew he gets, because in spite of his noble "keep them safe" intentions, he wants so so badly to be close to his family.
As pissed as he still is at Stan and even though neither of them can look at each other without hissing like cats, he still makes an attempt to start bridging their divide by inviting him to play DD&MD.
When the apocalypse happens, he immediately puts his life on the line to try to kill Bill.
And when he's captured, isn't fazed for a second by Bill's offers or threats... until his family is threatened. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid & prevent from the very start.
And when he's reunited with Fiddleford, his immediate reaction is to point out that Fiddleford's well within his rights to hate him—which isn't a new revelation, it's not like Ford had to do any soul-searching to reach this conclusion, he'd concluded that 30 years ago the instant he realized Bill had played him and that he'd been lied to about Fiddleford.
And then he tries to kill Bill again.
And then he's ready to sacrifice his own life to kill Bill—and the only reason he doesn't is because he has a metal plate preventing him from making the sacrifice... but, Stan doesn't have a plate. If Ford hadn't had the metal plate, he would have gladly done the exact same thing Stan did—and he would have thought it was right for him and only him to make that sacrifice, because it's VERY clear he feels (and has felt from the start) that this is all his fault and he's obligated to fix it.
Over and over and over, these are Ford's two defining character traits: getting so pissed off at injustice that his common sense shuts off and he goes into terminator mode until he's righted this wrong as best he can, even when he can't actually do anything about it; and feeling like he's Atlas, weighed down with the full responsibility of fixing everything he's done wrong and made to believe that, for everyone else's sake, he has to do it all alone. Even when doing so puts himself in harm's way, even when he has to put his entire life on hold for it, even if it might cost him his life. Scrape off his awkward social skills, his loneliness, his nerdiness, his endless curiosity, his zealous love of the strange, his starry ambitions, his yearning for recognition and success—scrape his personality down to the bone and that's what you're left with. A man who believes in defending the exploited so strongly that it makes him a little stupid.
I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you probably don't think Stan's fundamentally a bad person, and that you probably think that isn't even worth questioning. Stan's made a whole career out of swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying, committing a long list of goofily-named crimes, and attempting douchy pick-up artistry on women; and to cap it all off, he held the safety of the entire universe hostage to demand a goddamn "thank you." Don't send me any "But he had reasons—" "But it was only to—" I don't need it, I don't want the essay, I'm not arguing that Stan's a bad guy, it's fine.
But. You can look at Stan's moments of cruelty and unkindness, his uncharitable thoughts, his character flaws, and think, "that doesn't define him. He's more than his cruelest moments and worst mistakes. He's imperfect, but he cares so much and his heart's in the right place, and beneath all the flaws his core is good."
And if you can't do the same for Ford, it's not because he's a worse person. It's because we got two seasons with Stan and five and a half episodes with Ford—and while we saw Stan yearning to fish with the kids or encouraging Mabel to whoop Pacifica's butt at minigolf or crying over a black and white period drama or punching zombies to save his family, we only saw Ford at the worst moments in his life and under the stress of a prolonged apocalyptic crisis—and, it so happens, all the moments he was pissed at the guy we spent two seasons learning to love.
Ford's got moments of cruelty and unkindness, uncharitable thoughts, and character flaws. But, at his core, he's a good person, and he always has been, and he still is.
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dragonridernoobie · 3 days ago
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Hiii:3 sorry for bothering ,I hope you're doing good 😊👍🏻 I read the * TFP Megatron X MixBreed Reader* it was sooo good and I need a part 2 please were megatron by the time he falls in love with them and he confess it to them( I'm gigging rn while writing this please make me giggle like a minac ) thank you so much love you i appreciate your work ✨🤌🏻⊂⁠(⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠*⁠⊂⁠)❤️❤️❤️
Hmmm, ok, also i ain't dead, I just took a break (mostly because I got a new hyperficton on Yautja. I know, I'm a sinner)
TFPMegatron X Mixbreed Reader (pt.2)
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It's been months since Megatron found out one of his Ex-soldiers had sired a child with a human of all things. He was disgusted and demanded for his army to find them.
When they found the child of the Ex-decpticon, they studied it. The mixbreed human was named (Y/N). They had no idea what is happening but did everything that the decpticons asked since they were at the mercy of them.
But not completely since one of the 3 humans with the autobots named Raphael has hacked their phone, and (Y/N) was keeping the autobots updated about everything.
During their time with the decpticons, they got to know about megatron more since Megatron has kept (Y/N) as his pet. There was times that him and (Y/N) were at eachothers throats. Yes, (Y/N) was scared of megatron, but their father (Who was the ex-decpticon) tought them to never take shit from anyone. No matter who they are.
Of corse, this pissed megatron off badly, but deep down, he enjoyed it since this small half bred organic is the only thing that fought him. He saw the fear in their eyes and yet they dident take his bullshit.
Over time, megatron has grown to be soft toward (Y/N) to the point that soldiers on the warship talked about them now being friends.
Ofcorze this wasn't true..........right?
Megatron heard these rumors and did not like it. He was not 'friends' with this organic. Not at all........maybe he was.....
Over time, he thought about these rumors more and more while he spent time with (Y/N). He watches how he acts to them and how for once....he felt like had another friend (Besides soundwave)
Over time, he felt more feelings toward (Y/N). To the point, soundwave even made little smile emoji's on his visor every time megatron was watching (Y/N) walk away.
Soon, megatron decided that he would court (Y/N). So, the first thing he does is polish his body making sure to make himself extra shiny and made sure (Y/N) saw it.
When he realized it dident catch her attention, he decided to tell his war stories and battles from the pits of kaon. (Can't remmber how it's spelled).
When he tried everything to get (Y/N)'s attention, he decided to just confront them.
Megatron: "(Y/N), why do you not return my courting?"
(Y/N): "courting? Like dating?"
Megatron: "in human terms, yes."
(Y/N): "oh....why are you courting me?"
Megatron: "because i see you as a worthy mate. Be with me (Y/N). I will make you queen of the decpticons, and you will get anything you wish for."
(Y/N): "anything? Can I ask for you to stop the war?"
Megatron: "...................."
Megatron was not expecting this. He will need to think about this more. He did not want to end the war but he has fallen for (Y/N)...what will he do now.
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jitterbugjive · 3 hours ago
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Okay... I'll Accept Holiday Letters...
So, anyone who has followed me long enough knows by now how I get around the holidays. Seasonal depression kicks in, and bad memories of old toxic Thanksgivings and Christmases flood my brain any time I see or hear reminders of them. Plus there's some trauma from living in poverty and having very little around the holidays and the only people willing to exploit my mentally ill mother for work was the Salvation Army who basically pay pennies. And there's a whole lot more I don't like, like the cold, Christmas Carols, etc.
However.
The last couple of years I finally got to have proper family holiday get togethers since the toxic people in the family are gone now, and it was very healing for me. I still despise the holidays, don't get me wrong, they are mostly miserable for me. I generally tell people to not address the holidays with me.
But... I've been going through a LOT this year. Especially the last 6 months with my mother being manic and getting her whole life messed up. I've also been dealing with another family member experiencing psychosis on and off as well that I haven't felt comfortable talking about. The results of the election and things Oregon was voting on are not helping me feel any better, and I fear that winter depression is going to be hitting me like a truck. I can feel it creeping in already now that the weather is getting under 40F. On top of that, my family isn't in a state right now where anyone can feasibly host Thanksgiving or Christmas, so it's a bit of a lonely one this year. Sure, I have friends I can spend time with, but I was just getting used to the family dinners. Overall, this is just going to be a very hard winter for me.
And for once, I'm going to ask people to lend a bit of the Holiday Spirit (tm) my way, because I really need some pick-me ups to get through the rest of the year. Basically all I'm asking for is for people to send me letters of encouragement through my PO Box. Gifts and fan art are welcome too, I keep all my fan art safe. I'd prefer not to get flat-out christmas cards unless the cards are really nice or creative and have a lot of thought put into what's written in them. I could just really use some kind words and there's something that feels a lot more personal about physical letters that I can store away and pull out on a rainy day.
Please note I have a pea brain that can't read cursive very well, so if possible I'd prefer it be in plain print or typed out.
If you send treats they need to be shelf stable and properly sealed, no home baked goods.
My P.O. Box: (Can be addressed to Jitterbug or Jack)
16055 SW Walker Rd #274Beaverton, OR, 97006
And if anyone's feeling generous I do have an amazon wishlist that people should be able to buy and send stuff from without needing to be the middleman. I don't update it much and a lot of stuff is outdated but you should be able to organize it by priority to get a better idea of what things I'm most interested in. You can even add other stuff to the order that isn't on the list and it will still be shipped to my P.O. Box!
AMAZON WISHLIST
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huntinglove · 3 days ago
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Somebody who really cares - F/O x Reader
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F/O characteristics: Kind, patient, well spoken and comforting
Scenario: Reader is upset and insecure about what people have made them believe about themselves, F/O helps them feel as treasured as they deserve to feel 💙
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“...Dear? Are you there?”
A concerned voice hummed alongside quick paced, but ever so gentle, knocks on your door. The sudden wave of sound snapping your mind off it's cruel monologue as mumbles escaped your lips.
“Y-Yes! Come.. Come on in.”
The startle melting away to resume your pensive demeanor told your F/O everything they needed to know. As the door slowly opened, they gave you a warm and awkward smile, sitting by your side but giving you enough space to avoid feeling suffocated.
“You've been here for... Hours. Is everything alright?”
“...I don't know.”
“I see... Well, you can always talk to me.”
Your eyes skipped across the room, glancing at your surroundings, your body and then to your F/O, momentarily avoiding their eyes before your lungs filled with air, letting out a pained sigh as your gaze met theirs.
“I just... Don't know what you, what anyone, sees in... Something like me.”
As your beloved tilted their head and raised a brow, they gently placed one of their hands on your shoulder.
“Well, if I were to list out everything I love about the beautiful person that you are, we'd be here for decades!”
You let out a halfhearted chuckle, your mind full of doubt as your body unknowingly leaned closer to your partner.
“...What's made you feel this way? I can prove that none of the awful things your brain is telling you are true.”
“Just... People. I don't feel like I'm as kind as I could be, as good looking as I could be... As talented... As important.”
A frown formed on your F/O's face as they gently placed their fingers on your cheek, tilting your head so you would look into their eyes.
“And do any of those people, let alone what they think of you, matter?”
“Some of them... I thought they were my friends.”
With a quick pause, your F/O skimmed over the which words to use, quickly kissing your forehead before articulating their thoughts.
“Well I'll tell you what, it's always better to have declared enemies than fake friends. If someone is willing to make you feel so badly about yourself they're not actually your friend.”
You stayed silent, processing what they had said with quiet bittersweetness as you remembered all the good, and bad, moments you had with your "friends". Your F/O continued as they gave you a reassuring smile.
“If someone can't see you for the amazing, breathtaking, being you are... I doubt they'd have the foundation to do what friends do. To be with you through thick and thin, to really care about you.”
As you shook your head and sighed, their tone became more serious, but remaining gentle.
“You don't have to be kind to people who are cruel to you. You don't have to try and convince people that you're worth something, because you already are. You're worth everything."
Their words caused tears to bead at the corners of your eyes, pooling and overflowing until they raced down your cheeks.
“People will always find something to disapprove of. Your looks, your hobbies... They'll find anything to degrade so they go through their miserable lives more easily.”
Your F/O's thumbs gently rubbed away your tears as they pressed their forehead to yours, eyes closed as they continued.
“You know... I don't think death is something to be feared, what we should really be afraid of is wasting time worrying about people who aren't worth it. Throwing away the only life we have because of people who aren't worth it. So please..."
They placed a quick kiss to your lips before looking at you with pure and genuinely love in their gaze, that kind smile that made you feel at home instantly warming up your heart.
“Let's live for everything that makes us happy, that makes us... Us!”
Through sniffles, you giggled before wrapping your arms tightly around your partner, thanking them quietly as they rubbed your back carefully.
“There we go... It's okay. You're perfect, I promise.”
As their arms coiled around you as well, you felt yourself being pulled up to your feet, your F/O helping you stay balanced as you adjusted to standing up again.
“C'mon, I found a movie I think you'll like! We can also get some of those snacks you like, just a cozy stay-at-home theater date, what'd you say?”
“That's everything I could ever want right now.”
And before you could realize, all that tension and worry had phased away, replaced with all the safety and love your partner could offer.
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quinnverse · 9 hours ago
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"Have you lost function of your eyelids, too? Just close them, you imbecile!" She spat, resisting the urge to toss one of the pillows on her bed at him. For such a seemingly smart man, he had a knack for being dense, and primarily around her. If she wasn't in such a compromising position, she might've relished in the fact that she unnerved him so much. Throwing a man off-kilter was a win to some degree, but not when it meant he wandered into her bedchamber unannounced.
I'm not the one who left my damned door unlocked! Her fingers curled into fists as the temptation to hurl something larger at him swelled in side her.
“Oh, forgive me for leaving my own damn bedroom door unlocked in my own damn house!" Forgetting herself for a second, Emma allowed her voice to rise until she heard the timbre echo within the walls of her room. When this day was over, she would make sure her father knew his time needed to be up soon. She couldn't tolerate sharing a roof with John Bolton any longer.
Such thoughts had been plaguing her enough over the past few days that she'd even gone ahead and penned a letter to her cousins, to tell them she might be visiting again sooner rather than later. Her aunt wouldn't mind, not when Emma's presence usually managed to keep both Ned and Belle in check--somewhat. Emma hadn't gotten around to sending it yet, the mere presence of the letter laying flatly on her writing desk was enough to quell the irritation for now.
But that had been before he'd traipsed into her room while she was changing. Before he had kissed her in the barn, and gotten upset with her for flirting with his friend. Their embarrassing encounters only seemed to multiply by the day and she found herself wishing for a messenger pigeon or anything to deliver her message across the pond as quickly as possible. She couldn't stand being around him any longer.
“I did not ask you to kiss me, you swine. There was no invitation.” She grumbled. There had certainly been a hope, but no invitation. Even so, she hadn't pushed him away quite quickly enough to hide her enjoyment of it. If she hadn't come to her senses when she did, Emma couldn't be sure how far she would've let him go before she realized the severity of the situation. Especially when he was confessing things to her that no average woman should hear, let alone want to hear. But Emma never claimed to be a normal woman. "Besides, we both know I, of all people, would not be so quick to consider you an intellectual."
After a moment, she let out a frustrated groan. It would be easier to grab her dirtied chemise off the floor just to save her pride, but Emma knew it would never be that easy. He had already embarrassed her and she wasn't about to let him get away unscathed. Even if it was at the cost of her own sanity, she'd make him pay for this.
“My wardrobe…” She began, her arms clutching tighter around her torso. “It’s by the door. Your eyes clearly aren’t in working order so I wouldn’t expect you to notice. But…” She couldn’t believe this was happening, that this was the way she was going about things. At this point, she'd be better off inviting him into her bed instead of tormenting the both of them, but she pressed on.
“May you please fetch a chemise for me? Or anything, really. A damned blanket would suffice right now.” She waited until he turned away again, watching him like she were a cornered animal and he were the enemy. Before she could think better of it, she felt her lips open and a childish mumble tumbled out.
“You could at least pretend you came for something more. It would, at the very least, make the embarrassment would be worth something.”
“But I suppose this makes us even. Truly even. I’ve seen you without a shirt and now, begrudgingly, you’ve seen me without one. Both circumstances, might I remind you, were your doing. For someone who refuses invitations so adamantly, you're certainly determined to have one of us give in to temptation. It's like you’re trying to make me seem like a harlot.”
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Emma's seething request to shut the door took Benjamin off-guard, and glancing over his shoulder, he sucked a breath once he noted the blatant view of the hall. How in God's name had he forgotten the bloody door?!
"I...I-I can't get up without seeing you!" he bit back, concerned she might immediately start lobbing projectiles at him again. Nevertheless, with an awkward shuffle, he remained on his hands and knees and skittered back toward the door, his right leg extending before he nudged it shut.
“What the devils is wrong with you?” Emma snarled.
Still refusing to lift his head, lest he see what she was so clearly trying to conceal, Benjamin growled toward the floorboards, "Me? I'm not the one who left my damned door unlocked! I thought this was my bedroom!"
Emma remained unconvinced. “Was accosting me in the barn not enough for you? Now you have to invade my bedroom while I’m undressing?”
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He scoffed, lifting his head enough to see her fiery gaze. "You did not seem accosted in that barn," he volleyed. "Most intellectuals would call what you gave an invitation."
That seemed to jolt through Emma akin to a livewire. She balled her fists and snarled, “If you’re here to take up my previous offer, I regret to inform you that the invitation has since expired. And I would’ve at the very least appreciated a bloody knock. A few moments later and you would've bore witness to far more than you deserve.”
"I told you: I thought this was my room!" Benjamin exclaimed, exasperated. "And I am not here for your so-called offer, so you can get off your bloody high horse! Is the fact I'm on my hands and knees not proof enough?"
Wishing she would grab her damnable chemise -- why did she persist in remaining half-dressed?! -- Benjamin ducked his face down into his palms and groaned. "If you would just re-clothe yourself, I could get up and leave," he coolly reminded her. "You're making this far more difficult than it has to be -- I didn't come here for you!"
He'd certainly wound up in the wrong room because of her, absolutely -- he was wholly frazzled after their afternoon gone wrong, and he was embarrassed from his lewd confession in the barn -- so much so that he'd somehow walked right past his own quarters, and stumbled into the proverbial lion's den.
"I don't care if you believe me," Benjamin spoke again. "And although I did not behave as a gentleman this afternoon, that doesn't mean I haven't come to my senses now!"
He certainly wouldn't be making this mistake again any time soon...
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