#so tell me why I feel guilty about getting them

[luveline]

you know what ive been thinking about? boy dad spencer reid. everyone talks about girl dad spence but boy dad spencer?? watching him play sports and having literally no clue what's going on, or dressing him up like a little old man or playing dinosaurs with him and teaching him magic </3 my little heart can't take it

dad!spencer beloved +fem!reader

“Hi, Jude.” 

Jude sizes you up. 

“Want a cuddle?” you whisper. 

The little boy gives a shy smile, falling into your arms as you open them.

Jude is great at hiding but you’re better at finding, no matter where he is. Spencer calls it your ‘Jude tingle’. Despite the dumb name, he’s always grateful you’ve found his toddler, saving Jude from a lifetime in the Trader Joe’s freezer aisle or an abrupt sleepover at Aunt Emily’s apartment. Today, you’ve protected him from the spiders in the Reid backyard. 

”What did daddy say about hiding?” you ask softly. 

Jude sighs against your neck, close to tears at even a whisper of a scolding. “To tell daddy, and we would hide together.” 

“Yeah, you can hide together. Why didn’t you wanna tell dad today? You could’ve told me if you wanted.” Jude sniffles. You trace a short line down his back. “Good thing I always know where to find my favourite boy, huh? You can’t hide from me, Jude, I love you too much. I follow the hearts until I find you.” 

“That’s not true,” he grumbles. 

“Oh yes it is. I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” he says. Just a couple of months ago he could barely say love, but he can show it, and he does today by pressing a wet little kiss to your cheek. 

“Daddy’s still looking for you,” you whisper. 

“Hide me?” 

“I don’t think I should. I bet daddy’s about to get upset. Should we go find him?” 

Jude pulls away. You push his glasses up his sloped nose, forcing him to blink as he readjusts to the world again. Jude Reid, in all his baby-faced sweetness, couldn’t look more like his dad. He has Spencer’s eyes, and his cheeks, though Jude doesn’t have the sharp jaw or cheekbones, just puppy fat. You dot a kiss on one soft cheek and stand, offering down a hand to keep Jude tethered, lest you lose him before you find his dad. 

“Is he mangry with me?” 

“Dad’s not mad or angry, just upset.”

“He’s crying?” Jude asks, shocked. 

“No, he’s not crying! He doesn’t like not knowing where you are, that’s all. No, daddy’s not upset like that.” 

“Can you make him… can you…” 

“I can make him feel better,” you promise. 

Jude wriggles his fingers in your hand. 

Spencer’s calling Jude’s name into the expanse of the back yard, attempting to sound cheerful but missing the mark quite severely. “Jude, it’s dinner time!” 

“Dad!” Jude calls back. 

Spencer sags like a popped balloon, trudging over to you both by the patio doors. 

“I don’t know why we bother splitting up,” Spencer says, bending down to swoop Jude into his arms, thrusting him up into the air quickly to make him laugh. “Y/N always finds you!” 

“You’re not sad?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “I’m ecstatic! Because you’re back! And you’re safe and sound!” 

Jude gets guilty and tries to slip into the curve of Spencer’s neck, promising he won’t hide again so long as dad doesn’t cry. Spencer isn’t confused by the hiding anymore, Jude’s paediatrician thinks it’s a reaction to overstimulation, but he goes soft like warm butter whenever Jude’s upset. “I won’t cry, Jude… it’s okay. I’m not upset…” 

Spencer gives him a kiss on the ear and lifts his head back to you. “Okay?” you ask softly, not speaking to one of them in particular. 

“I think Jude’s hungry.” 

“I don’t want milk,” he denies. 

“For dinner,” Spencer agrees. “I think we should have something filling. How about chilli and rice?” 

“No beans?” Jude asks seriously. 

“No beans. I’ll make garlic bread or something too. How does that sound?” 

He speaks so gently you don’t know he’s talking to you until he’s nudging you. 

“Oh, anything you’re making,” you say. 

You’re sure he’s gonna kiss you, though he hasn’t before, but sometimes he’ll work up the courage to kiss your cheek or hold you by the back of the neck, moments of wild intimacy that make you dizzy. He shifts Jude against his chest and dips his nose into wind-brushed curls. “Stop hiding,” he says. 

“Sorry,” Jude sarcs, unexpectedly cheeky. It makes Spencer laugh like a kid, which makes Jude giggle, and for a second you can’t tell whose laugh is whose.

[swytdoll]

(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

[claws-and-all]

This isn't a very eloquent list, but:

🌹 I'll start at the beginning... A beast... a grumpy beast grieving the loss of a friend (Mentor? Lover? Employee?)... already, I love him!

🌹 Then we see his High Fae form and idk about you, but all my life, lotr elves have been the epitome of beauty and etherealness. And he reminded me so much of that 🫠

🌹 Now personality wise, a broody dork with the weight of the world on his shoulders ... I'm down bad crying at the gym... I know a lot of readers like that egotistical, sassy, snarky male vibes, but I can only handle it in moderation. So this broody boy was straight up my alley. Combine that with his negative rizz and "Your hair is... clean"... SOLD!! 😅🥺 (Seriously, love that line 😂)

🌹 A man who could have taken the easy way out but chose to stand against tyranny and fight for what's right ... I feel like books these days severely lack "heroes". Personally, I'm not a fan of goodie two shoes characters, BUT Tamlin's a great example of I will fight for what's right but still do everything in my power to save you. And that's just 🫠🫠 (also *cough* dragging Beron by the neck *cough* 🥵🤤 ALSO saving Lucien!! Harboring him, giving him a job!!!)

🌹 The fact that he ended slavery, takes in refugees from other courts and celebrates their festivals, and if the tales are to be believed, harbored humans that were from the children of the blessed and treated them well. ... HOW DOES ANYONE NOT LOVE THIS MAN?????

🌹 One of my favorite things about him is how he values life. From personally burying the blue fairy to feeling guilty about slaying the Naga. It shows that his heart is still soft despite the hard manner in which he was brought up. I think it's such a precious and underrated aspect of him.

🌹 Another major thing is that despite how wronged he was, he still put aside that hatred and saved Feyre and her crew and then Rhysand. I don't think I could ever have such forgiveness in my heart for these characters and what they did to him. It was such a big move from him that it baffles me why fans still hate him to such a degree.

🌹 And lastly... his carefree side. From the fiddling to the swimming to the limericks. I love that artistic side of him. A man with such rough edges but somehow a great musician, a poet. Ugh I wish we saw more of this side of him 🥺🫠

🌹 Okay, one more thing, they always say the best leaders are the ones who do not want the job. Whilst I don't think Tam is the best leader, I do think he truly is a good one. You just don't get citizens willing to sacrifice themselves for a tyrant. That alone tells you they respected him and believed in him. But more so, when your court is completely destroyed and you still manage to inspire people to fight under you. I was truly impressed that Tamlin showed up with a small army in the Hybern war! 👏👏

🌹 Okay, last, last one. He was romantic 🥺🫠😍 I found it so hilarious at how much he did not want to date Feyre. But all those moments, from the rose garden to showing her the fae world, the "Just a glen", the willow o wisps 🫠🫠🫠🫠 it was magical and beautiful and I feel like the rest of the series lacks that. Also, during these moments, you see him going from someone who wasn't interested to someone falling hard and fast and 😭😭😭😭 he deserves better man!

In conclusion, a hott dorky yet romantic man with the heart of gold who will still rip the throats of their enemies (with his teeth 🫠🥵)

can anyone who’s also in love with tamlin please reblog this with the things you love about him? I’ve seen too much negative merch recently and it’s depressing me

[weneeya]

soft kiss m.list | rules

pairing. haikyuu x reader

characters. oikawa, osamu, kageyama, kenma

note. apparently i'm not able to write with anything other than haikyuu, so here i am once again! i'm trying to write with different characters bc i love them all <3 don't hesitate to request!

⎯ Oikawa as sharing a kiss after a long time

It had been months since the great Oikawa Tooru had left for Argentina. You had pushed him to leave without a single thought ; it was too much of an opportunity for him to just say no because of you. Yes, you missed him like crazy, but you called each other anytime you could, fighting against the timezone. 

Argentina was so far away, and Oikawa was so busy that you didn't have a single idea of when you would be able to see him again. You tried not to worry too much about this, knowing well that he would feel guilty for leaving like this. 

You were with Iwaizumi, laying down on his couch while telling him how you felt about the distance with your boyfriend. After all, it was also his best friend, he was the best to help you right now. Your monologue was cut off by the bell of the door. You looked up to glance at Iwa who simply shrugged his shoulders. 

“You should go open,” he told you, and you didn’t understand why he would ask you to open the door of his apartment after hearing someone ; but you did it anyway, standing up from the couch to go to the door. You opened it without expecting anything, until your eyes locked on a face you knew too well. 

Your eyes widened and you didn’t even know what to say right now. You blinked a few times, trying to process when you heard his voice. “You didn’t miss me?” Tooru teased you, and the second after you were almost jumping on him. He caught you the second after, keeping his balance so none of you would fall. 

You looked into his eyes, still not realizing that he was really here now. What made you realize it was when he leaned closer to capture your lips, his fingers tangling with your hair at the back of your head to keep you close. It felt surreal, because you haven’t felt him so close since what felt like an eternity. 

You kissed him back like your whole life depended on it, your hands cupping his cheeks. It never felt so strong before, perhaps because you never spent so much time away from each other before. 

What brought you both back on Earth was Iwaizumi clearing his throat behind you, arms crossed on his chest and a grin at the corner of his lips. “At least get inside,” he told you, and Tooru nodded, taking your hand in his to get in Iwa’s apartment. You had no idea for how long he would be here, but you planned on enjoying every moment until he left again.

⎯ Osamu as a forehead kiss to check your temperature

You had been feeling sick the whole day, but your boyfriend was sadly not here to take care of you. Osamu had a lot of work to do at the restaurant, and he left too early to even notice how bad you could feel. You decided not to say anything to him while he was gone ; he had enough stress with work, he didn’t need to be worrying about you on top of that. 

When Osamu came home after his long day of work, he simply walked to the living room where he knew he would find you. Except that he didn’t expect you to be half asleep, but clearly feverish. You slowly looked up at him, and you quickly noticed the light frown on his face. 

“What’s going on?” He asked you, crossing his arms as you slowly sat back up on the couch. You sighed a bit, before you explained that you spent the day here on the couch, not even able to go make yourself something to eat. It simply made his frown a bit harder on his already tired face. “Stay here, lay down and don’t move.” 

Osamu left for the kitchen, after he made sure that you were really laying down on the couch while he was gone. He came back in the living room a moment later, with a plate in his hands, which he put on the table next to you. You sat back and he took a seat right next to you. “Eat what you can, but don’t force yourself.” 

You took some time to eat a bit, before you turned around to be facing him. You were about to say something when you simply felt his lips brushing against your forehead. It caught you off guard, his hand resting at the back of your head. He moved away a few seconds later, a bit of worry in his eyes. “You got a really bad fever. Come here, let’s get you to bed.” 

You were too flabbergasted to realize that he was already taking your hand to guide you to the bedroom. You didn’t know what you did to deserve such a sweet man, but you knew he would take care of you for as long as you would need it.

⎯ Kageyama as kissing your knuckles to ease your anxiety

Exams were slowly but surely approaching, and as always, it made you a nervous wreck. You weren’t bad at school, never really having catastrophic grades ; and yet, it made your anxiety rise like crazy. You were overworking yourself, spending hours on studying to be sure that you would pass. 

It made Kageyama worry a lot. He was bad at showing it, but he really hated those times because you were staying inside the whole day, not even caring a little about your own health. He knocked at the door of your dorm room, and the light sound he heard from the other side gave him the permission to get inside. 

His eyes met your figure sitting in front of your desk, not even looking up at him when he walked closer to you. He sat on your bed, next to where you were, waiting in silence until you would finally look up from your books. 

“Did you need something?” You asked without looking at him, and it made him frown slightly. He stood up, marking your page before closing the book in front of you. Suddenly, you looked up at him, about to say something, when you realized what was going on. You sighed slowly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I just…” 

“I know,” he told you softly, falling on his knees in front of you. He gently grabbed your hands in his, looking up at you. He was bad with words, he knew it ; and he wasn’t really good with showing it either ; but for you, he always tried his best. 

He raised your hand closer to his face, and his lips kissed your knuckles without saying anything more. You stayed silent too, tilting your head to the side while looking at him. No words were needed, you simply closed your eyes and breathed slowly. He always said he was bad at showing you affection, but you couldn’t ask for better.

⎯ Kenma as kissing your nose to watch you blush

Your boyfriend had never been a huge fan of PDA. In fact, he wasn’t a huge fan of physical affection in general. But if there was one thing that he loved way more than he disliked PDA, it was teasing you in front of everyone. It was his little guilty pleasure, he couldn’t lie about it. 

Kenma was currently streaming, and you were doing your own things in the rest of the house. His viewers knew you well. Even if he wanted to keep your relationship a secret at first, people began to notice things and, eventually, he had to properly introduce you to them. It was safe to say that he never missed a chance to embarrass you in front of his whole chat since that. 

He was just chatting with the viewers, when he heard some noise from outside, which made an idea cross his mind. A light grin on his face, Kenma called out for you. It didn’t take you long to join him, opening the door and raising an eyebrow. 

“Come here, please,” he asked you to walk closer, which you did without understanding what was happening. He gestured to you to lean over him, and when you did, he quickly left a kiss on the tip of your nose. It was fast, but it was enough to make your face burn all of a sudden. 

You stuttered a few words which didn’t make any sense, and all he did was to grin at you. You hated how proud he looked right now. You pushed his shoulder, moving away from the camera angle, and it made him chuckle. Teasing you really was his guilty pleasure.

thank you!!

[katiascraft]

- chapter six - and there was happiness  because of you too, right?

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

summary: carlos confronted y/n in front of charles in the worst way possible. but fortunately (or unfortunately) he made what needed to be done to put the two together "by (twisted) fate".

series masterlist

BLOG MASTERLIST

Charles was scared and worried when he saw your light turning on by the minute. His eyes wanting to leave his face when he saw you in your marvel pajamas again. Your hair was a mess and your face had the darkest circles under your eyes. Your face puffy as if you were crying or you did before you went to sleep and then they woke you up. He felt as guilty as when he realized he left the love of his life stuck in that fucking restaurant you both loved so much. 

His heart was racing in a way he hadn’t felt for so long. He got scared it was about to have a panic attack in front of your house. In front of you, showing how weak he still is for you but like in a very twisted way. Carlos’ voice got him out of his mind abruptly. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you bitch? Huh? Stop torturing my friend!” Carlos said aggressively to you when you opened the front door of your white and pastel green beach house you owned. 

If you thought your day couldn’t get worse, then you were oh so wrong. 

There he was. Standing and cheeks red. His face showed panic. You could feel he was scared by the way his eyes went bigger listening to what his friends had said. Carlos’ face was a work of art. Rage all over his face. His body language was violent. He hated you so much, it was visible. Palpable. Evident. Heartbreaking too. 

Your whole face just hurt. Tears irritated your skin so you looked red. And you were sure you looked terrible. Whole face was swollen and puffy. You felt more depressed in that instant. There so vulnerable in front of two men. And one of them being the love of your life. Or… your past love of your life? You weren’t sure at all after last weekend where you touched and have seen franco in a different light. Your heart still heavy about it and how you treated him. You hated yourself so much. You just couldn’t believe you could make yourself be even more miserable. 

 But you had to stand up for yourself because you were also confused by what Carlos just said. 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about carlos. And i don’t know what charles told you but we didn’t even talk… and i don't even know why the hell i'm giving you an explanation you don't deserve” frustration was visible in the way you voice sounds deeper than normal. Different from what he heard at the ice cream shop and the way you talked to him. And also your smile was gone. Like every time he appears in your life. Because he only brings you pain. And nightmares. Or at least that’s what he thought. 

“Um, y/n I'm really sorry, really” Charles said, panicked and then turned over to Carlos “c’mon mate, let’s go. Don’t do this. There’s no need, you know?” He grabbed carlos’ wrist and pulled him a bit away. But Carlos was looking straight at you. Hate was converting him into the devil. 

“Don’t play the fool, darling. You know what I'm talking about. You love to make him feel miserable by the mistake he committed! You’re evil! Twisted! Stay away from him!” Carlos was out of control. Charles shook his head not knowing what to do. He looked at you ashamed that he even blushed. Seeing him like that broke your heart. You swallowed hard and just so fed up with everything and anything related to Charles and the bagage of your story, you closed the door on their faces, determined to go to bed and cry. You closed your eyes for a second because your head was pounding. All you could see were his eyes.

But you just couldn’t be like that for long because Carlos started knocking on your door and telling you to open the door right away. You could hear Charles telling him to calm down desperately and telling him to go home. But Carlos was so drunk he couldn’t even think straight. You could hear it in his voice. You sighed not knowing what to do. 

But then silence took all over the place like they were never there. And that’s when after a few seconds you hear deep breathing.

“Just please Carlos, let’s go home” charles’ voice was broken and after hearing him talk you could hear him sobbing. Carlos was silent. Your heart started racing. 

It didn’t feel right  so you opened the door. 

They looked at you. Charles was a wreck. Carlos seemed calmed but worried. He was holding charles’ arm. 

“I’m sorry mate” Carlos finally said.

“Charles, you wanna come in? For a glass of water” you finally spoke out loud without thinking. Like you kinda surprised yourself. Charles looked up at you a bit confused but then he nodded. You gave him a soft smile. And awkward too. 

This whole situation was weird. 

Carlos was about to say something but you interrupted him “you’re not invited. Sorry not sorry” you told him and snapped the door on his face. Asshole. He didn’t even know you and that’s his presentation card? But he knew my name. That must be charles’ work. This is insane though. You turned away from the door to find Charles awkwardly standing there in the middle of your living room waiting for instructions or permission. 

“Sorry” you said softly but he shook his head gently. 

“No problem, it’s okay. He sometimes is an asshole” he explained more calmly than a few seconds ago. 

“Feel at home” you finally said after a few seconds of just looking at each other. It felt strange yet nice to have him in your place. “Take a seat i’ll go for a glass of water” you said to go running to the kitchen to say so. 

Charles looked around. There were a lot of frames of your nephews almost everywhere. He sat on your couch. It was really comfy and soft. Your perfume was everywhere and it was the same perfume you used back in the day. For a moment he felt safe and that weirded himself out a bit. He is supposed to hate you, right? He tried to wipe his face dry. He felt ridiculous there in his ex’ house again after so many years. He knew all too well he shouldn’t be here. But he wanted to. 

He heard how you took a glass from the counter and poured water straight into it from the sink. He played with his fingers nervously waiting for you to come back. He was trying to think straight because he was really drunk as well. Although he was hoping you didn’t notice, it was probably obvious. 

“Here you are,” you said softly, handing him the glass that he took gently. A tiny smile appeared on his face. 

“Thank you, y/n. And I'm sorry again for what Carlos did. I really don’t know why he did that” he tried to explain nervously. You shook your head with a half smile. 

“It’s okay. To be honest, he's an asshole but I am as well. I would have understood if you thought that about me too. So it’s okay. No bad blood. I get you were partying” he watched your lips while you were talking. They were dry and pale. Then he looked at your eyes. “And, sorry for calling the cops i was having a really shitty day to be honest and i needed to sleep”

“I’m sorry, i can go” he was about to stand up in a rush but you took his arm softly not letting him stand up. 

“Stay. it’s fine” he looked at you and sat down in slow motion almost.

·”you’re apartment it’s really nice” he didn’t know what to say. You gave him a real smile now. One he thought he was daydreaming of how beautiful it looked by the warm lightbulb that was involving you two in that living room. 

“Thank you. It took me a few years to figure it out but now I'm really happy with it” you explained and he blushed.  

“It really represents you… I think” he thought this could be taken as disrespectful because he didn’t know you in the current. But he went with it anyway. He spoke before even thinking about it. So many years of pe training yet with you apparently doesn't work. 

“Yeah… I guess” you looked away just trying to think what to say or what to do. 

“I read your book” what he said came out of nowhere and it felt like an ice bucket challenge. You looked straight at him. Not knowing if it was good or bad or why he even mentioned it. “I loved it to be honest. I didn’t know you liked writing but I wasn’t surprised it was so well delivered because you were always good with words and feelings. You’re so talented” he expressed his hands shaking a little for some reason. 

“Thank you” you said through a dry laugh. “Guess I’m not really good with words really, like in real life. And they were never really useful either nor that they were important” you shrugged. 

“They did matter and they do matter i'm sure” he intervened.

“Did they?” You didn’t want to be a snake but you were still hurt and you hated still being hurt because it was ten fucking years ago yet he is still here and now it’s not only on your mind but in your stupid couch as well. 

He adjusted himself on the couch, nervous and uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. 

“I regret it,” he said after a long silence. “I fucking regret taking that decision and leaving you. I don’t even know why I thought at that moment that was the best but I did and I can’t change it but I wish I could. and I know now it’s like a joke that I'm telling you this and I'm the same man that left you there alone and broken. But I can’t stop thinking about you. What you wrote in that book was so beautiful and devastating I hate myself that I put you through all of that. That I hurt you so much that you had to write that. You were important. You mattered to me. But I was stupid. And I’m still am for feeling stuck in that fucking restaurant. I looked for you. Since I saw you that day I looked for you the following days at the coffee shop. I went there and read your book. I wanted to see you again and then I saw you at the ice cream shop. Like fate it’s cruel and twisted. I thought those kids were your children. And I thought about all of these dreams I have mostly every night where we are happily ever after and I wanted to die. I really did. Because I committed the greatest mistake of my life. Losing the only girl who saw me for me and made me feel all those things I never felt again. Everything was just so empty and blue-“ he had to stop when he saw you crying. 

“Stop Charles, please. You can’t come and tell me all of this. Like it is nothing like it can be fixed because it can’t be. You broke me in so many ways you can’t say all that shit, please. You don’t mean it” you just couldn’t keep on listening to him. His words cut through you like daggers. It was painful and unbearable. 

“Nono, I do mean it. I really do, y/n. And I know and I get it - I don’t deserve your apology and I know like saying sorry won’t fix anything I know it won’t but I feel all of these things I need to tell you. I've watched you from Carlos’ house and -“ 

“And are you a creep as well?!” 

“Nono, y/n, please. No, I am not a creep. I just - I didn’t know you were carlos’ neighbor. But he wanted you, that he didn’t know it was you either, to meet our friend Lando and you were there writing in your balcony and my world just went upside down from there. Out of nowhere you started to be everywhere and… and I don’t know what that means but I’m like… I really want it to mean something”

You looked at him not believing your eyes or your ears. You just stood up confused and tried to wipe your face and get yourself together. “You don’t mean that Charles, you don't. Please, just, don’t play with me like this” you were almost begging your drunk ex and you felt pathetic. He stayed silent just watching you. 

“Please, y/n… can we try to be friends at least?” He said with a shaky voice almost in a whisper. He was about to cry as well. You just couldn’t deal with any of this no more. Your brain was rotting. You felt like you were about to die. 

“I can’t do this right now Charles. Just… rest till your head is clear again. There is the guest room, use it as your own. There are pijamada and everything. I need to sleep. Goodnight” you just run up your stairs leaving him behind like some funny paradox. You just throw yourself into your bed not wanting to think or feel anything probably forever but at least till the next day. 

Charles was left with his heart on his hand and his words on the top of his tongue. He watched you while you headed up stairs and disappeared. He was left alone in your empty and unbearably silent living room. He then looked at the door you indicated was the guest room. He took a really deep breath. Was he about to sleep at your place? Funny, huh? He felt stupid. What was he thinking? 

Finally with no other remedy, he got into the guest room. It was beautifully decorated with a lot of paintings. He looked at them closely to see that it was your signature at the bottom of each of them. You painted them. You painted flowers and landscapes. The Mónaco view. The beach. Autumn. All of your favorite things he thought. They were beautiful. Then he turned to the bed, it spooked really comfy. But first he needed clothes so he walked to the closet and when he opened it, there were as you said a lot of pijamada in different sizes. It was a bit weird but maybe you liked to be ready and prepared for anything that happened unexpectedly. Like your ex sleeping here. Totally normal. He laughed to himself a bit. He was sure he was going mad. He finally got changed in the guest’s bathroom and laid in bed. Even the ceiling was judging him. He didn’t feel okay with this but his blind needed to rest so he fell asleep almost immediately. 

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

‘maybe the invisible string does exist and maybe that’s why he is back at my house snoring loudly in the guest room’

You sighed when you finished writing in your journal like every morning. You were fried. You couldn’t sleep that much because memories of what you and Charles used to torment you all night. But at least two hours are two hours of sleep. You had a few meetings today so you hoped Charles woke up in at most an hour. You are drinking water on your couch, not hungry at all. But you obliged yourself to prepare breakfast for Charles. 

You decided to prepare waffles with berries and blueberries, and a latte. You guessed it was still Charles' favorite type of coffee to drink in the morning. And you hated yourself for remembering that too. For remembering all too well. 

“Morning” his deep voice echoed in the kitchen and you turned around to greet him.

“Morning, Charlie. I made waffles and latte, you want some? I bet you are hungry… and also I have aspirin if you are hungover” you said light and smiley. You didn’t want it to be weird even if you thought of it like it. 

“Wow, thanks. I’ll take everything” he said, showing his dimples. He was already wearing the clothes he wore yesterday. You handed him the aspirin and a glass of water and while he took it, you set his breakfast in front of him. He observed you. You looked beautiful even like this. He saw it was breakfast for just one person. “Aren’t you hungry?” He asked and you denied with your head. He sat in front of you in the aisle and started eating. “Thank you for letting me stay, the bed was more comfy that the one I use at Carlos’. It’s really nice of you all of this and again… i’m sorry but I hope we can talk about it someday if you want to” he said while enjoying what you cooked for him. You half smiled. 

“Yeah, it’s okay. Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow or when you’re able. I think it would be nice if we talk things through and make things clear” you agreed with him. After having the whole morning by yourself, you came to the conclusion that you need to talk about everything. You owe yourself that. The opportunity to clear your mind with him and finally move on. 

Right?

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

yourusername made a post

liked by nikbff , francolapinto , agosbff , charlesleclerc and other 765,435 users.

yourusername: just a bunch of meetings and watching hours of footage of castings for all too well the movie cast 🤓☝🏻who would you like to see?????

view all comments

agosbff: could you also be casted?

⤷ yourusername: I can’t even lie and you want me to ACT

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⤷ francolapinto: but you admitted it! and we still need to talk

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⤷ francolapinto: I KNOW 🥰

⤷ yourusername: talk to me in YOUR dreams BYE

⤷ agosbff: can you both talk already?

⤷ nikbff: THAT’s WHAT I SAID

⤷ francolapinto: NO🩷

⤷ user1963: TALK ABOUT WHAT?!?!

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⤷ user865: THEY ARE FRIENDS EVERYONE CALM DOWN

arthurleclerc: can I send my casting to play the main character’s brother? I think I can be good at it :)

⤷ jadedistinguinn: I wanna be part of it too :3

⤷ user861: im confused

⤷ user975: still can’t believe bro reads girl books

user089: anybody is gonna talk about CHARLES LECLERC in the likes???? I see you buddy

⤷ user752: maybe Arthur know things

⤷ user23: HE KNOWS

taylorswift: think I’m perfect for the main role actually 🤓☝🏻

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zendaya: girlfriend 😍 ur so pretty marry me

⤷ tomholland: EXCUSE ME ????

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⤷ yourusername: I LOVE YOU LOVE OF MY LIFE

⤷ tomholland: I want the ring back

user885: if anybody cares i would like to see chris evans and scarlett johanson *like by yourusername*

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting , @flowerpotterr , @aundercover ,

don’t forget to like, reblog or comment! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together)

[darlingsblackbook]

Distant Echoes - 6 ( Ending )

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Arranged Marriage AU

Summary : The time of an old pact, promising your hand to the heir of the Gojo clan, has come. It is now your wedding, how will the two of you continue from here?

Warnings : sad reader, crying.

English is not my first language, I apologize for any grammatical and spelling mistakes. Feel free to point them out but please be kind about it♡

♡♡♡

The tension in the room was suffocating. It had been for weeks. No—months. Gojo has been trying, in his own way, to fix things between us. Little gestures, soft words, attempts at closeness. For some reason, every single one only made the weight on my chest heavier, pressing down until it felt like it might cave in.

How can I believe him?

How could I trust that this wasn’t temporary? That he wouldn’t wake up one day and decide; "nevermind she is not worth the effort" ? That he wouldn't just change his mind like that? And I wouldn't be left even more broken than I already was?

The worst part was that I could see it. The sincerity in his actions, the guilt in his eyes. But I just couldn't let go of the past, his actions did not erase the coldness, the distance, the way he had made me feel like an intruder in the house that was supposed to be mine. And, as if I was just a duty to be upheld, nothing more

And so, with every kind word, every touch, every attempt to make me smil, I felt the pressure crushing me.

I sat on the couch in the living room, watching a new serie that I had discovered- and have been binging ever since. A cozy, soft blanket wrapped around me in a warm hug when I heard his footsteps. They were soft and hesitant, as if he feared being heard, such a far cry from the overconfident ( loud ) man that they came from.

I could feel him.

He has still not uttered a word, but I could feel him

He stood next to the couch, just watching. Me or the show, I did not know. He just watched. So, I decided to break the silence.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” I looked at him.

His eyes widened and he took a few steps closer before settling down on the coffee table in front of me.

“If you can’t bring yourself to love me...don’t force it You can just tell the higher-ups whatever you need to, get a divorce, and we can go our separate ways. It’ll be easier for both of us.”

I heard his breath hitch, and for the first time, I saw something close to panic flash in his blue eyes.

“Y/N—”

“I mean it, Gojo-” my voice broke and I felt my eyes water. I took a shake breath, “You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to keep trying just because you feel guilty."

“Stop,” he whispered.

“Why? Because it’s not what you want to hear?” I almost whispered.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like? To feel like you’re nothing more than an obligation? To know that the person you’re supposed to spend your life with sees you as a trap they got stuck in?” I shook my head, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks. “I can’t do it anymore, Gojo. I can’t do this anymore, I don’t know if it’s real."

"Stop..." he whispers

"I don’t know if, one day, you'll wake up and decide that all of this- the effort, the kindness, me - was never worth it-"

His eyes widen, something breaking in his expression. “Y/N, that’s not-"

“It was, though,” I choke out. “It was like that. I was alone in this marriage for so long, and I tried—I tried to be okay with it, I tried to get you to accept me but you didn't. Then I accepted that you didn’t want me, but now—” I shake my head, wiping at my face even as fresh tears fall. “Now you’re trying. Now you’re being kind. And I don’t know if it’s real.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. Gojo takes a shaky breath, then suddenly leans forward.

I flinch.

His entire body tenses. His hands twitch at his sides like he wants to reach for me but doesn’t know if he should.

And that hesitation-that tiny moment where he holds himself back-it shatters me completely.

He exhales sharply, and the next thing I know, he does reach for me- grabbing my face in his hands, tilting my chin up so I have no choice but to look at him.

“Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice rough, pained. “I don’t want to let you go. I never did.”

I try to turn my head, to look anywhere but into those bright blue eyes, but he doesn’t let me.

“I was scared,” he continues, his thumbs brushing away my tears. “I married you, and I thought—I thought I was forcing you into something you didn’t choose. I felt like I was taking away your freedom, tying you down to a life you never asked for.” He swallows hard. “So I convinced myself that the best thing I could do was not get close. Not make you feel trapped.”

I let out a broken laugh. “You made me feel invisible.”

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, as if my words physically hurt him. “I know,” he breathes. “I know, and I hate myself for it.” His hands tighten just slightly, firm but not forceful. “But Y/N, I do care about you. I always have. I was just too much of a coward to face it.”

I want to believe him.

God, I want to believe him so badly.

But the wound is still fresh, still bleeding, and I don’t know how to close it.

He presses his forehead against mine, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please. Let me try again. Not because I feel guilty. Not because I think I have to. But because I want to.”

My breath hitches. “And what if you change your mind?”

“I won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he insists. “Because the thought of losing you- really losing you- terrifies me more than anything.” His hands are warm against my skin, grounding me as he whispers, “Please, Y/N. Just let me love you.”

Something in me cracks.

I don’t know if I fully trust him yet. I don’t know if I can erase all the hurt with just words. But as I stand there, trembling in his hands, I realize something—

For the first time since this marriage began, I don’t feel alone.

So I let out a shaky breath. And I nod.

His entire body sags with relief, and then, hesitantly, he leans in- pressing the softest, most reverent kiss to my forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, like a vow. “For every second of hurt. For every moment you felt unloved. For any tiniest bit of sadness I ever caused you.”

His hands tremble against my skin.

"Please," he breathes, his voice rough and broken. “Give me a chance.”

I don't know how to respond.

I don’t know how to trust him.

"Let me make things right," he continues, his forehead still pressed against mine. “Let me treat you the way you should have been treated from the start.”

A sharp breath rattles through me. "Gojo-"

“Satoru,” he corrects quietly, and it nearly undoes me.

He only ever insisted on formalities before. Always kept that polite, meaningless distance. But now, he's asking for something more, something deeper.

“Satoru,” I whisper, and his eyes flutter shut like hearing his name from my lips is both a relief and a punishment.

"If you're still not happy," he murmurs, "I'll let you go."

His voice cracks on the last word.

I snap my head up, staring at him. His grip on my face tightens, not out of force but desperation. Like he's afraid I’ll slip away before he can make me understand.

"But it’ll kill me," he continues, his breath hitching. "Letting you go- it’ll be the worst thing I’ve ever done. But if that’s what you need to be happy, I swear to you, I won’t stand in your way."

I can’t breathe.

His confession is everything I ever wanted to hear, everything I never thought he’d say. And it hurts. It hurts so much because I can feel the truth in it, in every single word.

I shake my head, my lips trembling. “You don’t get to say that,” I whisper, my voice thick with tears.

“Y/N—”

“You don’t get to break me and then act like losing me will break you too.” My chest heaves. "That’s not fair. None of this is fair."

His face twists with agony. "I know," he whispers. "God, I know."

I don't realize I'm crying again until his thumbs brush the tears from my cheeks. His hands are warm, steady, even as the rest of him trembles.

"I should've loved you from the beginning," he confesses, his voice wrecked. "I should have cherished you, protected you, made sure you never had to doubt me. But I was a coward, Y/N. I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping my distance, but all I did was hurt the one person-"

He stops abruptly, like he can't bring himself to say it.

But I know.

I feel it.

"The one person who mattered," I whisper.

His breath catches.

And then he nods.

I don't know how long we stand there, the silence stretching between us like a fragile thread. His hands are still cradling my face, his touch careful, reverent. Like I'm something precious. Something loved.

"Satoru," I breathe, and he exhales shakily, his eyes pleading, desperate.

“Just one chance,” he whispers. “That’s all I ask. And if I fail you again, if you still feel like I don’t love you enough ; I’ll let you go." His lips part slightly, and the words that follow nearly break me.

"But I'll never stop loving you."

Something inside me shatters completely.

I clutch onto the front of his shirt, my body wracked with sobs. And for the first time since this nightmare of a marriage began, he holds me the way I always wished he would.

Tightly. Desperately. Like I'm his entire world.

“Okay,” I whisper. I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale. "Okay, Satoru. I’ll give you a chance."

The sound he makes is something between a laugh and a sob, and before I can say anything else, he pulls me against him, burying his face into my shoulder.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, over and over again. His arms tighten around me, his hold so full of relief, so full of love that, for the first time in a long time, I feel something other than pain.

Maybe this time… maybe this time, we won’t break.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hello! I was wondering if you had any hcs for Baji x gn!reader who owns a cat (or multiple <3) and the/one of the cat(s) for whatever reason just despises him, like neither of them can figure out why. Thanks!

Also no rush on this, don't overwork yourself ❤️

Poor Baji but here are some!

Baji is devastated this cat doesn't like him, he tries to act cool about it but you can clearly tell from the sad look in his eyes and the way he just goes "oh..." as your cat hisses and runs away from him.

He tries everything he can think of to get this cat to like him, even trying to bribe the cat with treats.

Baji has never had a cat dislike him before so he's a bit out of his depth here.

Asks Chifuyu for some advice but quickly regrets it when the cat seems to love Chifuyu but still hisses at him. 

Sometimes you catch him talking to your cat, normally it's just things like "why don't you like me?" or "I just want to be your friend"

You try your best to comfort Baji whenever your cat rejects him (again). Baji always says he's fine but he definitely becomes a bit more cuddly with you everytime it happens, as if he'd seeking that comfort from you.

Baji doesn't give up though, everytime he comes to your place he does his best to bond with your cat

You feel a little guilty whenever your cat happily comes to you after Baji's been calling him over for the past 20 minutes. 

At one point Baji get's out his old glasses and starts studying cat books to try and figure it out.

The whole situation becomes a bit of an inside joke between Baji's friend's, with them finding the whole thing pretty funny. 

And finally, after consulting all the books he could find, asking friends and trying his best, the two of you just decide to look it up on the Internet instead. Where you both quickly realise your cat is most likely jealous of Baji for taking so much of your attention. You laugh as Baji nearly falls off his chair in surprise. 

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Be mine

Masterlist Word count: Zayne 1.3k, Xavier 1.1k, Rafayel 750 words, Sylus 1.3k, Caleb 360 words (I'm sorry, I'm still getting used to Caleb and don't really know how to write for him yet.)

Established relationship, domestic bliss.

Summary: It's Valentines day! (Yes, I know I'm late :"( I had work on the 14th and 15th. I am a bartender and it's been insane those days. Almost broke my back carrying kegs and boxes of wine.)

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Zayne

It's early in the morning when you feel Zayne stir. The sun hasn't even risen yet, but even on this Valentines day he has work. He presses a kiss to your forehead and a groan escapes you when the heater next to you leaves the bed to go take a shower.

'Zayne,' you call out, your voice cracking slightly from the sleep that's still impacting you. The matress sinks on his side of the bed. Without opening your eyes, you turn towards him. 'I don't get a proper kiss on Valentines day?'

You can feel him smile as he presses his lips against yours. Drowsily, you put one hand in his hair in a desperate attempt to keep him here with you. 'I love you, darling. I'll see you after work.'

'Love you too. Let me know if you get tied up in work.' It's a silent agreement between the two of you. His job is important, his work is important, and you know that. You also know he feels incredibly responsible for his patients.

At the start of your relationship, it took a little getting used to but by now you're more than accustomed to celebrating holidays before of after their actual date. You don't mind anymore as long as you get to spend time with your snowman, but he always seems to feel a little guilty about it.

You wish you could wipe that guilt from his mind, but that's a part that he keeps locked up. Even for you. You'll get there someday, but not today, not tomorrow, and maybe not even next year. That doesn't matter to you. After all, you've got the remainder of your lifetimes to find out every detail about him.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Hours later, just as you expected, you get a call from Zayne explaining that they've got an influx of patients. He has to stay. Just like every other holiday. People do such insane things on holidays. It used to bother you, but you're just glad they've got such a talented doctor to take care of them.

You promised him to bring him dinner and sit down with him. Now, at the time that your reservation was supposed to be, you're strolling into the hospital with a homemade dinner and some desserts. The lady at the check in desk gives you a pitiful smile but you pay it little mind.

'Is Zayne in his office?'

'He might be. He just finished up with a patient so it might take him a few minutes,' she answers.

'Alright, can you let him know that I've got his dinner for him?' She nods and you take a seat in the waiting area next to a mother with a little boy that seems in a lot of pain. He looks over at you, looking strangely proud.

'I made my momma dinner,' he proudly exclaims. His mother almost bursts out laughing through her worry.

'You did? Then why are you here,' you question with excited curiosity to keep the kid engaged. He shows you his bright red hands. One of his fingers is bandaged up tightly with a kitchen towel.

'I cut my finger and grabbed a pot without gloves,' he tells you.

'Ovenmits,' his mother corrects.

'Ovenmits,' he repeats enthusiastically. You chuckle and put the bag with food on your lap. Rummaging through it to find the container with cookies you originally brought to give to Zayne to share.

'Well, if you don't get to have your Valentines dinner, I think you deserve a treat, right?'

'Oh, no thank you, we couldn't,' his mother quickly says with a gentle smile.

'Nonsense,' you answer with a big smile, 'I know it's not the most ideal to spend Valentines day in the hospital. Believe me, my husband is the head cardiac surgeon here.' You hand the container of cookies over to the woman who opens it for her son and lets him pick a cookie.

'You're bringing him food?'

'Yes, we're having dinner together on his break.'

'That's nice,' the woman smiles. Just then, a figure appears in front of you. You look up to see your wonderful boyfriend standing in front of you with a smile. 'Is this him?'

'Yes, this is Doctor Zayne,' you introduce him to the mother and the little kid munching on his cookie. 'Zayne, love, could you check him out quickly? He's got a cut.'

'Of course,' he replies with a kind smile and he kneels down in front of the kid, 'what seems to be the problem?'

'I cooked dinner for my mom,' he exclaims proudly. His mother shakes her head with a smile, her arm around the kid.

'He wanted to surprise me because I don't have a partner,' she explains quickly.

'That's real thoughtful of you,' Zayne says to the kid, 'next time maybe ask mom for help. Can you show me your hands?'

The kid opens his palms for Zayne, but there's a frown on his face. 'But then it won't be a surprise.'

'How about you make her a card next time? And then you can write in the card that you want to cook together. After all, Valentines day is about spending time with people you love.' You don't miss how Zayne looks up at you for a second. 'The burn isn't too bad. Some ointment should do the trick. It'll lessen in a week. Now how about that cut?'

'It's quite deep,' the mother warns. Zayne nods.

'Then how about we go to my office and I'll go see if you need stitches,' Zayne offers. The boy nods. 'Are you alright waiting a little longer, darling?'

'She can come with us,' the boy chimes in, 'I like her. She gave me cookies.' Zayne chuckles.

'Are you alright with that too,' he asks the mother. She shrugs.

'I don't mind.'

They're in and out within a few minutes. The cut wasn't too deep so Zayne glued it with instructions to keep it dry. He gave the kid some surgical gloves to use in the shower and showed him how to wash his hands without getting it wet. You quite liked watching him work like that.

Together, you waved the two goodbye at the reception and walked back to his office hand in hand.

'So when were you going to tell me we got married,' Zayne asks with a cheeky look on his face as he shuts the door behind you.

'Hm? What?'

'You called me your husband.'

'Oh,' you feel your cheeks burn, 'I guess it just slipped out.' He smiles and sits down with you at his desk while you dish out the food. There's a strangely happy look in his eyes that you can't quite place.

'You know,' he says as he reaches into the top drawer of his desk, 'I was going to do this at dinner, but this is as good a time as any.'

'What?' He puts a little velvet box in front of you.

'You've been with me through so much. More than you deserve to endure. You allow me to do my job without judging me for missing out on so many special moments. Instead, you create those moments for me. I could not ask for a better person to share this life with.' He takes the box and opens it, showing you a stunning ring. Then, he takes your hand, walks around his desk to you, and takes a knee in front of you. 'Will you do me the honor of being my wife?'

A huge grin spreads on your lips while tears start collecting in your eyes. With your free hand, you reach out to touch his face. 'You know, I always did prefer our private holiday celebrations.'

'Is that a yes?'

'It is.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Xavier

'Xavier? Are you ready?' He hears your voice loud and clear through the bedroom door. You had come over to his on impulse so you two could walk to the restaurant together. Only problem is, he was planning on picking you up and giving himself some more time to stop his nerves from racing.

Now, he's in the bedroom with a bad excuse. He told you he had forgotten something or didn't do something. He can't even remember clearly. What Xavier does know is that he looks a mess. His reflection looks the worst he has ever seen it, though he knows it's probably all in his head he can't shake it.

Can't shake that you deserve better, that you deserve someone else, someone that is not him. You deserve the absolute world, the universe, someone who could give you everything. That's just not him.

He's introverted, prefers to stay home with you but completely willing to go out if you ask. His days are spend taking it easy when he doesn't have work and he likes it that way, but sometimes he doubts if you don't want something more exciting.

Today out of all days, he should know that it's just his insecurities talking. He had already asked you to be his Valentine while walking home together last night and you said yes so enthusiastically. In fact, you had jumped him and the two of you fell into a fresh layer of snow in front of your apartment building.

'Xavier?' Your voice is almost like a blur to him now. He's so damn stuck in his own mind, in his own thoughts, in his own feelings. The little velvet box in his pocket feels like it holds the weight of the world.

One thing he does know for sure is that he wants this, wants you. Forever. He could just sit on the couch with you for the rest of his life and he would die a happy man.

Now he just has to ask if you want the same, but it's the asking part he gets stuck on. Last Valentines day was the same. He's had this ring for over a year. Originally, he had wanted to ask you on new years which turned into Valentines day, which turned into Easter, which turned into all the other holidays there are and now he's back at Valentines day. It isn't funny, but it kind of is.

'Xavier, are you alright?' The bedroom door opens ever so slightly as you peak your head around the corner. 'We've got a reservation.'

'I know, I'm just-' He can't find the words, his hands are clammy, he feels so damn nervous. Maybe you can't tell, maybe he can hold out until dinner, but then what happens if he backs out again?

You step into the room, towards him, and reach out for his hand. 'Xavier, love, we don't have to go if you're not feeling well. There's enough other days to go out for dinner together.'

'No, I feel fine. I want to take you out,' he tells you, a little more secure now. You take his hand and reach your other hand out to turn his head towards you. When he looks down at you, all he sees is the love you hold for him.

'It's fine. Really,' you assure him, 'I'm just as happy ordering in. As long as I get to spend the day with you.'

He takes a second to take you in. You look absolutely stunning. Yesterday you had teased him that you got a new dress and it was pink. Nothing could've prepared him for the dress you walked in with. It knocked the wind right out of him. You matched your nails to your dress and had your makeup done lightly.

'I love you.' The little words slip out so easily and they make you smile. That's enough for him. Maybe he doesn't need a fancy dinner, he doesn't need a holiday, he doesn't need a reason to ask. It's just you and it's just him. That's enough.

'I love you too,' you respond and get up on your tiptoes to ask for a kiss. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. A short, but loving peck. Your lip-gloss on his lips always makes you giggle a little. Not because it looks weird, but it's strangely intimate. Same with your lipstick.

'You know,' Xavier says as he puts his hand in his pocket, 'I've been wanting to ask you this for over a year now.' You watch as he gets on one knee, one hand still holding yours, the other holding a little box. A small gasp escapes you.

'Xavier-'

'Please, let me ask first.' You nod as tears fill your eyes. 'For the last few years you have made my life brighter, made me brighter. I literally glow around you. No one has ever made me feel that way. Two years ago, after Christmas with our friends, we went to bed together and you reminded me to drink some water before I went to sleep. Don't ask me why, but that's when I knew I wanted to ask you this. I've been trying to gather the courage and today I wanted to ask you at the restaurant but I just realized we don't need all that. Because I love you most because you love me for who I am. You don't ask me to put on a mask, don't force me out of my comfort zone while you do tease me every once in a while, you don't expect me to be something I'm not. You make me want to be the best version of myself for you and I love you so much for that. Will you marry me?'

He doesn't get an answer. Instead, you start laughing as you take a knee with him, reach inside the pocket of your dress and pull out a similar velvet box.

'You're kidding.'

'I'm not,' you laugh, 'I've also had it for over a year.' The shock slowly wears off and he starts laughing with you. You jump towards him, arms around his neck and you end up laughing on the floor together. Kisses and giggles are exchanged until the laughter finally dies down.

'Maybe we should just go to the courthouse tomorrow. Make sure we've got that covered too,' you suggest with a grin.

'I wouldn't be opposed to that. I'd finally get to call you my wife.'

'Should we cancel our reservation and order in?' His hands grab your face and he starts playfully leaving kisses all over your face. 'Xavier, stop that,' you laugh.

'You can't just say stuff like that. I can't marry you faster!'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Rafayel

Rafayel has been wanting to propose to you for months and you've known that for months, but you don't want to rush him. However, getting extra dolled up for all special things he invites you to just in case he proposes and someone films it is getting tiresome.

And so, for this Valentines Day, you asked him to just stay home together. Spend some time on the couch, playing some games, ordering in some food. Just have a day of just the two of you and he happily obliged.

Now, as the sun is setting and you sit on the patio looking out on the beach together, you feel truly at ease. This day is the last day Rafayel would propose to you. He likes the grandeur of having something unique. He won't want to share his engagement day with some holiday you figure.

'Let's do one typical thing today,' you suggest with a satisfied smile. He looks over at you curiously. 'A walk on the beach?'

He hesitates to speak, no words able to form in his mouth. You don't know if you've just said something wrong or if he was so lost in this moment that he forgets to respond. That happens from time to time when he's painting, could be the same thing now.

'What? Are you waiting for the tide to change or something,' you question with a giggle and a playful nudge to his shoulder. That seems to wake him up. He rolls his eyes, a soft smirk playing on his lips.

'Maybe I'm just enjoying the sunset from here.' You raise and eyebrow and cross your arms.

'Oh really? Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?'

'What do you mean,' he laughs, 'I can't enjoy the sea from afar?'

'You've never said no to a beach walk with me before.' He breathes out a laugh and gets up, reaching out to you to take his hand. when you do, he starts running down to the shoreline. You're being dragged along in his long strides and you doubt you've ever ran this fast.

Just as he looks over his shoulder to look at your infectious smile, he trips and the both of you tumble into the sand. It covers you, slipping into places it really shouldn't be, but you keep laughing nonetheless. He reaches out for you again and shakes some sand out of your hair. You return the favour happily.

When he gets up, he holds out his hand for you again to pull you up. Just as you're halfway up, you notice his eyes are on something in the sand. You look down to see a little velvet box. When he realizes what it is, he lets go and you fall on your butt in the sand again.

Before he can grab it, you've already put your hand over it. His eyes meet yours again, the sparkle of mischief reflected in both of your eyes while a grin pulls onto his lips. His hand slips underneath yours, taking the box before you can wrap your hand around it. Then, he pounced on you, leaning down on his elbows to hold up his weight while keeping his face impossibly close to yours.

'Such an impatient little fishy,' he teases as he leans down to press a kiss on your lips, 'now that you know my plan, will you run away?'

You reach out to touch his face. Despite his confident words, his eyes are full of fear. Fear that he might've read this all wrong, fear that you aren't ready, fear that you do not want this. 'I've been waiting for you to ask. So get to asking.'

The biggest smile spreads on his lips as he pulls you back up. When he's got you standing, he kneels down in front of you with the sand covered velvet box in his hands. 'Will you marry me?'

'Yes. A million times yes,' you almost squeal. Now it is your turn to pounce on him, pushing him into the sand whilst peppering his face with kisses.

'If I knew this would be my future, I would've asked earlier,' he laughs.

'Good thing we've got the rest of our lives to catch up.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Sylus

You: "Why did you send me a ring size thingy?"

Sylus: "Do you want to spoil your birthday surprise?"

You: "Yes?"

Sylus: "I saw a jewelry set I think would look good on you. I need your ring size to make sure you'll be able to wear it."

But your birthday came and went. Sylus did give you a jewelry set but there was no ring. That's when you became suspicious of his intentions. At first you considered a weapon that needed your ring size, but that sounded too strange. You then went through every single little thing that you could think off until only one thought stuck in your mind.

Did he want your ring size to get you an engagement ring?

When that thought embedded itself in your mind, you got an idea. What if you could get the jump on him? Propose before him. Get him surprised and flustered. It's not every day you get to see your man like that.

So, one night when he came over, you took out the ring sizer he got you, put it on the coffee table before he arrived, and, when he started asking about it, joking about it. Teasing him that he never did get you that ring and teasingly putting it on him to see what would fit.

Eventually, you told him that you were throwing it out as you had no real use for it. He grumbled in agreement, seemingly not too happy about you throwing such a useful tool to him away. When you teased him for his tone, he simply told you he doesn't like you throwing his gifts away. Fair enough, so you kept it.

A few weeks later, you bought him a simple silver band with an engraving on the inside. Just for his eyes.

"Your little crow, always."

Very cheesy, but you knew it'd make him smile. To make it even more cheesy, you decided that you'd propose on Valentines Day. He had asked you out to dinner a few nights before and dropped of a beautifully tailored dress this morning. Red. His color.

As the sun begins to set, you get ready for the night, hoping that you can call Sylus your husband, or at least your fiancé in the morning. The dress makes you feel a little cheeky. It is draped so nicely and shows off just enough skin to make it classy. There's no tag, so somewhere in your mind, you imagine him designing it for you.

And as always, Sylus is exactly on time. Not a minute too early, not a minute too late. You know he stands in front of your door waiting for the agreed-upon time because he doesn't want to rush you. That's one of those little things about him that make your heart swell with love.

'Evening sweetie, you look breathtaking,' Sylus compliments you with a kind smile, handing over a beautiful bouquet of flowers, vase included so that you don't have to rush finding one. You notice the vase is one he has given you before. One that disappeared recently after you told him that your vase collection was getting too big for your apartment and to please stop giving you vases. Such a sweet man.

'Thank you, Sylus,' you give him your clutch in exchange for the flowers, smile brightly and turn to put the vase on your dinner table, 'they're stunning.' You notice how they blend with your interior and style perfectly. Sylus is nothing if not detail-oriented.

'Are you ready?' You nod and turn on your heel when you see his hand clasp around your clutch. Your velvet clutch that doesn't have any structuring material. While you try to keep your face neutral, there is a proud grin on his face. One that could be because he's taking you out, or because he felt the little ring box in your clutch.

'I am,' you smile and reach out to take your clutch and replace it with your hand. He doesn't object, but does offer his arm instead of his hand. However, that doesn't fly with you. Not on Valentines Day.

Of course, the restaurant Sylus takes you to is in the Michelin Guide. It's one of those places that has no prices next to the cheaper wines, but the most expensive bottles are shown with their prices. However, Sylus picks his wine like old money does. Not the most expensive but based on good wine years, regions, soil, the grape itself, the winery, the blend. He knows his wine like he knows his music, and his picks are never wrong.

Today that means a 2016 Barolo Riserva from Piedmont, Italy. Not a particularly expensive wine (yet) but it is considered a wine that could get even better with time.

After the wine is poured and the courses slowly come and go, Sylus reaches out over the table to hold your hand before the dessert course. 'Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetie.'

You can't help but notice the playful glint in his eye. He knows something or is planning something. Either are suspicious to you, but you're not letting it ruin your night. In fact, those things might turn out very well for you.

'You too, Sylus. Thank you for this beautiful night. It's perfect,' you reply, leaning closer to the table, your heart racing with excitement. 'But I think we can make it even better.'

Sylus raises an eyebrow, his expression teasing yet curious. 'What did you have in mind, Kitten?'

Under the table your reach into your clutch and take the ring box in your free hand. 'You know, I really do hate that you call me your girlfriend,' you say, trying to sound serious but Sylus looks right through that, still grinning, 'I'd much rather be your wife.'

A flicker of surprise appears in his eyes when you put the box on the table and open it. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he slips his hand into his pocket and puts another ring box on the table. When he opens it, you see a beautiful golden ring with rubies encrusted in the band. 'I know I've been stalling, but couldn't you have waited until dessert,' he teases.

Then, out comes the server with a huge display of desserts and at your side of the shared dessert, it says "Marry me?" in chocolate sauce letters. A huge smile spreads on your face. Sylus, the ever stoic boss of a criminal organisation, is a softy for you. Putty in your hands.

Your right hand is still intertwined with his left on the table. He brings it over to him and gently pushes the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly, as expected. He then offers his hand to you, but you shake your head. 'I want you to read the engraving first.'

He takes the ring from its box and squints to read the engraving. 'Your little crow, always,' he reads aloud, his voice slightly wavering. He quickly clears his throat with a cough to regain his composure. He knows he doesn't need to do that around you, but habits are habits for a reason. 'That's beautiful, sweetheart. Thank you for this,' all the teasing and joking in his voice has fallen away. You're left with sincerity that makes his words embed itself into your mind, engrave themselves into your memories, and you don't ever want this memory to fade away.

'I love you, Sylus.'

'I love you too... my little crow.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Caleb

(I'm gonna admit this right here right now, I stole this from a Kdrama called Reset Couple. I just felt like it was very Caleb coded.)

It's early. Too early for you to leave the bed but early enough for you to be awake. Caleb left the bed a bit ago to get ready for his run before work. As soon as he left the bed, you turned to his side to bask in his body heat.

After a few minutes, Caleb climbs over top of you on the bed and leans down to press a kiss on your temple. You reach out your right hand to caress his cheek. 'You're going for your run?'

'Yes, and I've got work right after, but I'll be home for lunch.'

'Alright, take care of yourself,' you tell him and cuddle back into the sheets with your eyes long closed again. With a smile, he gets back up and strides out of the room looking a little too happy for a regular morning.

As you hear the bedroom door shut, you clench your hands to pull the covers closer and you feel something between your fingers. Your eyes flutter open again as you look down at your hand.

There's a ring on your ring finger. One that you don't recognize. It's a simple band with a little paper plane engraved in it. You rub against the metal with your thumb for a few seconds as you mind is slowly waking up.

Ring? On your ring finger?!

'Caleb?' You turn towards the door that is already closed. 'Caleb!' After a short fight with the covers you run after him. He's just about to leave as you pull him away from the door and shut it. There's a smug smile on his face as you turn around to face him and shove your hand in his face. 'What is this?'

'A ring?'

'What kind of ring is this?' He leans in a little, still towering over you but your noses nearly touching.

'You know exactly what kind of ring this is,' he tells you. Tears sting in your eyes as you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close. He happily receives the hug, wrapping his arms around your waist. 'Happy Valentines Day, pip-squeak.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

[ghostofsnails]

so did you guys know theres this character called tristan vik disventure camp and

[autisticlee]

sometimes people who struggle like to make jokes or find positives about their condition that causes them to struggle so they can escape the constant negative and struggle. sometimes autistic people will say things like "the 'tism" or use the "autism creature" or say their autism helped them have a *positive trait* to feel better about their struggles. because living your life only focusing on the struggles and negatives is depressing and makes it hard to want to live, even if those struggle take up 100% of your life and you can't actually escape them. sometimes any little seemingly positive thing can help a lot.

but there's so many other autistic people that hate when we do that and call it "reducing autism to a cute trendy thing" and say it takes away from *their* struggles and is bad and shouldn't be used. maybe *you* want to only focus on your struggles, but some people can't live in constant negative and need some positive or to find ways to make their condition more positive so they can feel better about living with their struggles. life is hard. I take anything I can get.

I cant get jobs. I can't make and keep friends. I can't get help and support for doing "normal" things so sometimes I go weeks without being able to shower and without eating more than a bowl of cereal a day. most times can't even do things I like. struggle to communicate. have meltdowns. i'll never be able to live independently. I struggle a lot. but instead of sitting here always depressed and having no motivation to live, i'd rather try to joke about "my 'tism is acting up again" when i'm struggling (just an example. don't think I ever actually used the 'tism thing but i saw others use it) or say "i'm just being a creature" when I need to stay in my dark room because everything is too much and I personally find it cute to be a little creature meant in a positive way. i'm not actually downplaying mine or anyone else's struggles. I still acknowledge them and that silly jokes dont make them go away. i'm not trying to be trendy. i'm not doing any of the things people say we do by making silly little jokes. i'm using the silly little jokes to convince myself life can be a little more than pointless, painful garbage all the time.

(continue in tags)

[vergilmayhoard]

sometimes i hate everyone and my life and sometimes i think it would be better if i just died at this point

[ed89]

long ass rant in tags. abt to explode

[acourtofquestions]

She had not trusted this world, this dream.

The companions who had walked with her, led her here.

The warrior-prince with pine-green eyes and who smelled of Terrasen.

Him, she had not dared to believe at all. Not the words he spoke, but the mere fact that he was there. She did not trust that he'd removed the mask, the irons. They had vanished in other dreams, too—dreams that had proved false.

But the Little Folk had told her it was true. All of this. They had said it was safe, and she was to rest, and they would look after her.

And that terrible, relentless pressure writhing in her veins—it had eased. Just enough to think, to breathe and act beyond pure instinct. She'd siphoned off as much as she dared, but not all. Certainly not all.

So she had slept. She'd done that, too, in those other dreams. Had lived through days and weeks of stories that then washed away like footprints in the sand.

Yet when she opened her eyes, the cave remained, dimmer now. The thrumming power had nestled deeper, slumbering. The ache in her ribs had faded, the slice down her forearm had healed—but the scab remained.

The only mark on her.

Aelin prodded it with a finger. Dull pain echoed in response. Smooth—not the scab, but her finger. Smooth like glass as she rubbed the pads of her thumb and forefinger together. No calluses. Not on her fingers, on her palms. Utterly blank, wiped of the imprint from the years of training, or the year in Endovier. But this new scab, this faint throbbing beneath it—that remained, at least.

Curled on the rock floor, she took in the cave. The white wolf lay at her back, snoring softly. Their sphere of transparent flame still burned around them, easing the strain ember by ember. But not wholly.

Aelin swallowed, tasting ash. Her magic opened an eye in response. Aelin sucked in a breath. Not here not yet. She whispered it to the flame. Not yet.

But the flame around her and the wolf flared and thickened, blotting out the cave. She clenched her jaw.

Not yet, she promised it. Not until it could be done safely. Away from them.

Her magic pushed against her bones, but she ignored it. Leashed it. The bubble of flame shrunk, protesting, and grew transparent once more. Through it she could make out a water-carved basin, the slumbering forms of her other companions.

The warrior-prince slept only a few feet from the edge of her fire, tucked into an alcove in the cave wall. Exhaustion lay heavy upon him, though he had not disarmed himself.

A sword hung from his belt, its ruby smoldering in the light of her fire.

She knew that sword. An ancient sword, forged in these lands for a deadly war. It had been her sword, too. Those erased calluses had fit its hilt so perfectly. And the warrior-prince now bearing it had found the sword for her. In a cave like this one, full of the relics of heroes long since sent to the Afterworld.

She studied the tattoo snaking down the side of his face and neck, vanishing into his dark clothes.

I am your mate.

She had wanted to believe him, but this dream, this illusion she'd been spun ... Not an illusion.

He had come for her.

Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn.

Now Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius, her husband and king-consort. Her mate.

She mouthed his name.

He had come for her.

Rowan.

Silently, so smoothly that not even the white wolf awoke, she sat up, a hand clutching the cloak that smelled of pine and snow. His cloak, his scent woven through the fibers. She rose to her feet, legs sturdier than they'd been. A thought had the bubble of flame expanding as she crossed the few feet toward the sleeping prince.

She peered down at his face, handsome and yet unyielding.

His eyes opened, meeting hers as if he'd known where to find her even in sleep.

An unspoken question arose in those green eyes. Aelin?

She ignored the silent inquiry, unable bear opening that silent channel between them again, and surveyed the powerful lines of his body, the sheer size of him. A gentle wind kissed with ice and lightning brushed against her wall of flame, an echo of his silent inquiry.

Her magic flared in answer, a ripple of power dancing through her.

As if it had found a mirror of itself in the world, as if it had found the countermelody to its own song.

Not once in those illusions or dreams had it done that. Had her own flame leaped in joy at his nearness, his power.

He was here. It was him, and he'd come for her.

The flame melted into nothing but cool cave air. Not melted, but rather sucked inside herself, coiling, a great beast straining at the leash.

Rowan. Prince Rowan.

He sat up slowly, a stillness settling over him.

He knew. He'd said it to her earlier, before she'd let oblivion claim her. I am your mate.

They must have told him, then. Their companions. Elide and Lorcan and Gavriel.

They'd all been on that beach where everything had gone to hell.

Her magic surged, and she rolled her shoulders, willing it to sleep, to wait-just a while longer.

She was here. They were both here.

What could she ever say to him, to explain it, to make it right? That he'd been used so foully, had suffered so greatly, because of her?

There was blood on him. So much blood, soaking into his dark clothes. From the smears on his neck, the arcs under his fingernails, it seemed he'd tried to wash some off. But the scent remained.

She knew that smell—who it belonged to.

Her spine tightened, her limbs tensing. Working past her clenched jaw, she inhaled sharply. Forced a long breath out through her teeth. Forced herself to work past the scent of Cairn's blood. What it did to her. Her magic thrashed, howling.

And she made herself say to him, to her prince who smelled of home, "Is he alive?"

Cold rage flickered across Rowan's eyes.

"No."

Dead. Cairn was dead. The tautness in her body eased-just slightly. Her flame, too, banked. "How?"

No remorse dimmed his face. "You once told me at Mistward that if I ever took a whip to you, then you'd skin me alive." His eyes didn't stray from hers as he said with lethal quiet, "I took it upon myself to bestow that fate on Cairn on your behalf. And when I was done, I took the liberty of removing his head from his body, then burning what remained." A pause, a ripple of doubt. "I'm sorry I didn't give you the chance to do it yourself."

She didn't have it in her to feel a spark of surprise, to marvel at the brutality of the vengeance he'd exacted. Not as the words sank in. Not as her lungs opened up once again.

"I couldn't risk bringing him here for you to kill," Rowan went on, scanning her face. "Or risk leaving him alive, either."

She lifted her palms, studying the unmarked, empty skin.

Cairn had done that.

Had shredded her apart so badly they needed to put her back together again. Had wiped away all traces of who and what she'd been, what she'd seen and endured.

She lowered her hands to her sides. "I'm glad," she said, and the words were true.

A shudder went through Rowan, and his head dipped slightly. "Are you..." He seemed to grapple with the right word. "Can I hold you?"

The stark need in his voice ripped at her, but she stepped back. "I ..." She scanned the cave, blocking out the way his eyes guttered at her retreat. Across the chamber, the great lake flowed, smooth and flat as a black mirror. "I need to bathe," she said, her voice low and raw. Even if there wasn't a mark on her beyond dirty feet. "I need to wash it away," she tried again.

Understanding softened his eyes. He pointed with a tattooed hand to the trough nearby. "There are a few extra cloths for you to wash with." Dragging a hand through his silver hair, longer than she'd last seen it—in this world, this truth, at least—he added, "I don't know how, but they also found some of your old clothes from Mistward and brought them here." But words were becoming distant again, dissolving on her tongue.

Her magic rumbled, pressing against her blood, I, squeezing her bones. Out, it howled. Out.

Soon, she promised.

Now. It thrashed. Her hands trembled, curling, as if she could keep it in.

So she turned away, aiming not toward the trough but the lake beyond.

The air stirred behind her, and she felt him following. When Rowan gleaned where she intended to bathe, he warned, "That water is barely above freezing, Aelin."

She just dropped the cloak onto the black stones and stepped into the water.

Steam hissed, wafting around her in billowing clouds. She kept going, embracing the water's bite with each step, even if it failed to pierce the heat of her.

The water was clear, though the gloom veiled the bottom that sloped away as she dove under the frigid surface.

The water was silent. Cool, and welcome, and calm.

So Aelin loosened the leash—only a fraction. Flame leapt out, devoured by the frigid water. Consumed by it. It pulled away that pressure, that endless fog of heat. Soothed and chilled until thoughts took form. With each stroke beneath the surface, out into the darkness, she could feel it again. Herself. Or whatever was left of it.

Aelin. She was Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, and she was Queen of Terrasen.

More magic rippled out, but she held her grip. Not all-not yet.

She had been captured by Maeve, tortured by her. Tortured by Cairn, her sentinel. But she had escaped, and her mate had come for her. Had found her, just as they had found each other despite centuries of bloodshed and loss and war.

Aelin. She was Aelin, and this was not some illusion, but the real world.

Aelin.

She swam out into the lake, and Rowan followed the jutting lip of stone along the shore's edge. She dropped beneath the surface, letting herself sink and sink and sink, toes grasping only open, cool water, straining for a bottom that did not arrive.

Down into the dark, the cold.

The ancient, icy water pulled away the flame and heat and strain. Pulled and sucked and waved it off.

Cooled that burning core of her until she took form, a blade red-hot from the fire plunged into water.

Aelin. That's who she was.

[theultracharmingladynoire]

I am just so tired of everything but I can't do anything about it

[thebigqueer]

2 years ago i fucked up a friendship w a girl (that im pretty sure i was in love with). to this day i think of her and sometimes when i see her on the street i just wanna cry. i understand your plight very much.

yeahhh man im sorry to hear that!!! it genuinely fucking sucks and i would never wish this upon anyone. cuz like it makes you fully think about all the what ifs and i genuilnely dont think ill ever find someone like her again

[eastofedean]

8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)