#sol phone call
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jamlabs · 1 month ago
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They went square dancing :) I personally take classes and it's super fulfilling!!! If there's a club near you sign up and dance with some folks, every dancer I've met has been so kind and supportive to newbies
(MY AXL IS A NO-OP TRANS MAN. DONT BE WEIRD!!)
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twobites · 2 years ago
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is this something (alt text under cut)
Image 1: Still from The Social Network of Mark leading Eduardo outside the party.
Image 2: Connor McDavid and Dylan Strome talking inside an arena.
Image 3: Transcript from The Social Network. MARK: “I’m afraid if you don’t come out here you’re going to get left behind. I want - I want - I need you out here, please don’t tell him I said that.” EDUARDO: “What did you just say?” MARK: “It’s moving faster than any of us ever even imagined and -” EDUARDO: “What do you mean get left behind?”
Image 4: Still from The Social Network of the above scene.
Image 5: 2015 headline from The Star, “Dylan Strome happy to develop in Connor McDavid’s shadow”
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manybackflips · 1 year ago
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Nagoriyuki after you land a bite feels like you’re playing as a boss character that you inputed a cheat code into the character select to play as him.
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citrusandbergamot · 7 months ago
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You know, it's been 20 years,
and Roadside Weeds, Monster Trucks, and the Art of Seducing Duo Maxwell is still my favourite fic of all time
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hirokiyuu · 2 years ago
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27. Marz/Tangent
27. things you said on the phone at 4 am
"It's just too much," blurts Tangent suddenly, and Marz startles back awake. "She... she looks at me and sees someone who doesn't exist. I don't -- I can't be the person she thinks I am."
"...I wouldn't know," says Marz, and her voice is syrupy with sleep that makes the lie come out more convincingly. "But regardless, if you aren't happy, why stay? That's not fair to either of you."
"I...."
Stars, she sounds so anguished. How sweet. For all she tries to hide it, Tangent has always cared with her whole beating heart. "Either way, darling, four in the morning isn't the time to make decisions like this, is it? Even for you."
That gets a little huff of laughter; Marzipan can picture the grimacing smile on Tangent's face that no doubt accompanies it. "I suppose."
"Mm, trust me."
"I do."
Marz feels herself smile, leaning a little against her palm. "As you should!" Another laugh, this one sounding a little less reluctant. "You can think about it after you get some rest." And then, because it's four a.m. and Marz really does love Tangent more than maybe anyone else on the planet: "Either way, I'll always be on your side."
There's a very long pause; Marz very politely pretends not to hear Tangent have to clear her throat through the line. "...Thank you, Marz."
"Of course! But don't make this a habit, I do need my beauty sleep."
"I won't." Tangent's voice has warmed; the smile Marz pictures this time is gentler than the last, the one she'd only remembered in adulthood. "I'll speak with you later. And thank you, again."
"You, my dear, are very welcome."
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eerie-asterisks · 2 years ago
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HELLO?????
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thragedys · 3 months ago
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Midnight Visitor
Sol x Reader
Synopsis: Thanks to the takeout you ate last night, the effects of food poisoning from poor catering have finally kicked in, hitting you when you least expected it. To ensure you’re properly cared for, Sol takes the duty of watching over you.
Word count: 1.8k
Includes: Gender neutral reader, sick reader, Sol being soft, affection, trespassing, jealous Sol (+ more!)
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After undergoing a series of nausea and intense dizziness, Sol insisted on walking you home despite being out in the city with him and Hyugo. It was as though all life was drained from your face, the only support you had while walking was Sol’s arms holding you upright. 
Food poisoning… Should’ve never eaten from that takeout place with less than three stars in their reviews.
Grabbing the key from your bag, he unlocks the door and escorts you inside, directing you to your bedroom while you whine and hold your face in your hands. Even the slightest tilt of your head would send you spiralling sideways, a recipe for disaster as your stomach decides to conjure its own storm.
Inside the kitchen, Sol spots a paper bag. The logo of the company which made you unwell is there, presented in a large font. Retrieving his phone, he snaps a picture of the logo, alongside the contact details printed on the back. He’ll deal with that later. Currently, he has more important things to tend to. You.
Rummaging through your cupboards, he successfully finds some medication that will ease the aches in your stomach. As for your dizzy head, the best thing he can do for you is close your curtains and encourage you to get rest. Fluid intake is also vital, it’ll aid dehydration. Returning to your side with a glass of water and some pills, Sol places them on your bedside table and sits on the edge of your bed.
“Are you okay? Let me feel your head.” Sol sighs, placing his palm flat on your forehead.
“Sol…” You whine, one hand remaining on your stomach and the other clutching his free hand.
“You’re not that hot, yet. Leave your window open—”
“No! No, I can’t! You’ve seen the news…”
“You will be fine, I promise. Fresh air will make you feel a lot better.” 
“I’m sorry for burdening you with this…”
“Don’t be. I’d rather it be me taking care of you than anyone else.”
“I’ll buy you a—”
“No. Sit down.”
“Ugh, Sol—”
“Rest.”
“I’ll buy you a thank-you gift when I’m better…” You mumble, pouting at him as he leans against the doorframe.
“Send me a text or call me if you need me. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”
“Text… Call… Yeah.” You repeat, rubbing your eyes while burying your head into the pillow.
“Don’t forget, take your medicine.”
“I’m gonna take it… Now.” You reach over and drop the pills into your mouth, then take a small sip of the drink to wash them down.
“Goodnight. I hope you feel better soon.”
Before leaving, he waited until he heard your breathing pattern change, signifying that you were asleep. Alongside the medication, he slipped in a sleeping pill, its dosage strong enough to keep you out for the correct amount of time. 
As if he would leave you alone so easily while you’re sick.
Right now, however, his main concern is dealing with the business that made his soulmate ill, after all, what good is a company in operation if its only achievement is casting a vast majority of its customers extremely unwell upon eating their cheaply sourced food?
Upon arriving back at his apartment, he stripped from his usual attire and threw on a set of his darkest clothes, a matching surgical mask to cover what remained exposed on his face. A complaint wouldn’t be enough, they clearly racked up enough of them online but did not change a singular thing about their selfish ways.
It was just after midnight when the streets were soundless and the civilians were tucked away inside of the safety of their homes. Strolling down the deserted sidewalk, Sol stops outside of a building, comparing the logo to the one saved in his photo album. A perfect match. 
Subtly, Sol explored the perimeter, tracing the outline of the building before returning to the front. It’s no wonder why all of their customers become unwell, the amount of trash that remains behind the building is piled up, much taller than him. 
There is no point in teaching those who do not wish to learn. An ignorant mind reflects an ignorant heart. Only the careless would profit from neglect like this.
Flicking his lighter on, he tosses it to the ground before walking away, the flicker of flames igniting in the distance as he glances back. It won’t be long before a passerby calls the fire department, but that’s no concern to him. When the authorities see the state the building was in previously, they could rule it out as the impact of an unkempt business.
His feet led him back to your apartment, the open window a much easier entrance for him as he climbed up. After all those locks you’ve bought in the past, he’s surprised you never gave up your safety protocols. Securing his footing, he creeps back into your bedroom, kneeling beside you as you rest peacefully in your slumber.
You are so beautiful. Every feature of your face was crafted with tender hands. He traces over your lips with his index finger, slowly drawing his hand back.
“Hi, Pumpkin.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips against your cheek. “I’m going to check your temperature again.”
This time, Sol uses the back of his hand. Thankfully, he would say you are around average, partially a slight bit higher than usual.
“Good… You’re going to be okay. You might be sick tomorrow but I’ll come over to make sure you aren’t alone.”
“You like having me here, don’t you? You feel so safe, so loved.” He strokes your hair similar to how you would pet a fragile animal. As his hand ventures under the blanket, he comes in contact with something.
“You still sleep with the plushie I bought for you? You…” Sol’s smile expands, his cheeks lighting a subtle shade of pink. “You must love it. Or me. I hope it’s me.”
In your sleep, you moan, your body beginning to shift. He strokes the side of your arm, calming you down as you endure whatever dream is unfolding. After a while, your body stops with its relentless motions and goes still again.
“This is our special time together. It’s my favourite part of the day.” Sol’s lips curve up, his eyes filled with adoration as he clutches your plushie close to his chest. “I’ll make it smell like me again, don’t worry.”
“Mph…” Your lips moved, but he couldn’t decipher the sound that left them.
“Hm?” Sol pinches your cheek, a procedure to test if you’re awake or not. 
You must be mumbling to yourself since you didn’t respond to his touch.
“I’m guessing you missed smelling me then. That’s cute.” When he finished rubbing the plushie against his flesh and clothing, he tucked it under your chin. “You’re cute.”
“He doesn’t deserve you, you know?” Sol mumbles, sinking onto the bed beside you, fingers toying with your hair.
“He would never do the things I have done for you.”
“I know you prefer me. It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it right now. I can wait.” He rolls onto his side, your face now in view. 
“You make it hard for me to leave every single time…” His pitch was low, an almost pouty tone as he nuzzled his head against your chest. Lifting your limbs, he wraps them around himself, drawing the blanket over both of your bodies this time.
“I’ll just stay like this for a few more minutes… Then I have to go.” Sol closes his eyes, the therapeutic beats of your heart are a soothing melody to his ears.
Sunlight filters in through the curtains, a bitter breeze hitting your clammy skin. Compared to yesterday, you’re feeling a lot better, the only thing remaining is the dull ache in your stomach. Rubbing your eyes, you squeeze your plushie, only to hear a strange noise. 
Last time you checked, this plushie shouldn’t be able to communicate. Shooting your eyes open, you find a mess of green hair sprawled out on top of you. 
“Sol?” You rub your eyes again, unsure if what is in front of you is reality or a fever dream.
“Yeah…?” Sol mumbles in response, his body shifting. Then he goes still, springing up from his previous position. Shit.
“I thought you left last night.” 
“After you took your medicine, you asked me to stay. You went out like a light but I made sure that you were okay.”
“Did you have this on yesterday?” You tug at his hoodie. “I’ve never seen you wear clothes like this before.”
“These are my comfy clothes, that’s why. I keep the hoodie in my backpack.”
“Oh…” That food poisoning must have hit you hard to leave you so delirious. “Thank you for staying with me.”
“…?” Sol flutters his eyelashes while your hands cup his cheeks, drawing him near. Your lips plant a peck on his forehead, a suiting reward since he went out of his way for you.
“Ah… You shouldn’t have to thank me… It’s what anyone would do.” Sol rubs the back of his neck, a flush spreading over his face.
“I feel sick. Like I’m going to throw up.”
“I’m not surprised. Let’s get you to the bathroom. Get all of that food out of your system for good.” Sol stands first, offering his hand to assist you to your feet.
“I don’t like vomiting.” You mope, refusing to move despite your stomach cramping further.
“But it has to come out. You’ll be okay, I’m right here.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently.
The only option is to get up if you don’t want to clean your bedsheets. Swiftly shuffling between rooms, you kneel before the toilet and allow your body to regulate itself, removing the foreign pathogens that invaded your meal. Sol rubbed your back, making the process easier. There wasn’t a lot of retching, but you still felt that familiar burn in your throat when you were finished.
“Any more?” Sol pats your upper back and you shake your head.
“I’ll cook for you this time. No more buying from trashy food places.”
“But they’re cheap…” You puff air into your cheeks, taking your toothbrush which he handed you to remove the bitter taste from your mouth.
“My meals are free. Don’t be ashamed to ask.” Sol takes a final glance at you before heading back to your kitchen, scouring the cupboards in search of something to work with.
For you, he would do anything. Make anything. Even if it’s from scratch. No matter the simplicity or complication of a request you have, he will ensure that you get what you ask for. You don’t deserve anything less. If only you were aware of the lengths he has gone and is still willing to go for you.
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girlgenius1111 · 6 months ago
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to be worthy.
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and impromptu mother's day fic in the sol-verse it's a difficult day. and a weird day. but it's also a day for family, and for people stepping up to take roles they didn't have to. a day for love, really. angst. but also sickeningly fluffy.
You’d never second guessed yourself more than you were in that moment, parked outside the flower shop, watching people enter and exit the building. It was barely 7am, and you had been there for almost a half hour already. Just sitting. Just thinking. 
Mother’s day. It hadn’t ever been your favorite day. No matter what you did or bought or made, your mom was never very happy with you. She didn’t want anything you could give to her. She didn’t even really want you around. She wanted Ingrid with her on the day, and she always made that very clear. 
This year was obviously… very different. Different because you weren’t speaking to your mother, and you didn’t have to get her anything. You didn’t have to write lies down in a card about how much she meant to you, or buy a gift she’d throw out in a few days anyway. You didn’t have to do any of that; there was no pretending this year, and you weren’t really sure what to feel about that. 
It was suddenly a day with no obligations, but then again… not really. Because if anyone in the world deserved to be celebrated it was Ingrid, and it was Mapi. 
Ingrid was your sister. Mapi was your sister's girlfriend. You knew this. It just felt… inexplicably wrong to let the day pass without acknowledging all they had done for you, all they were doing for you. There was no… older-sister-acting-as-your-parental-figure-day. You were left with this sunday in may, a day that already made your heart ache. Now, you were terribly anxious, too. You didn’t want to overstep, nor did you want to… understep? Too little, too much. Not enough.
Logically, you knew that Ingrid and Mapi would probably be completely fine with anything you chose to get them. You weren’t feeling very logical, though, so you grabbed your phone, and called someone you knew would be. 
“Hi älskling,” Frido greeted, suppressing a yawn. It was quite early for her to be answering the phone, but she wasn’t in the business of not answering calls from you. If you were calling, it was important. 
“Frido, does Ingrid like flowers?” You asked, nervously cracking your knuckles. 
“Flowers? Everyone likes flowers, Solstråle. Why?” 
“I just… I wanted to get her and Mapi something, and I don’t know what to get. I don’t want it to be too much or too little, or ugly or stupid or something they don’t like and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable but-”
The words rushed out of your mouth like someone had turned on a faucet, and Frido sighed, now understanding what you were so stressed about. 
“Hey, Solstråle, relax.” She interrupted. “Flowers are good. Ingrid likes daisies I think. And Mapi loves pink roses. It’s not weird, it’s not too much, or too little. They’ll be happy with anything, really. Don’t overthink it.” 
“Right. Okay. Daisies and pink roses. I can do that.” 
“I know today isn’t the easiest for you, but just try to remember-”
“I have to go Frido, sorry. Thank you, I appreciate you.” You said quickly, not really wanting to get into that  at the moment. The Swede sighed, hoping you’d relax a bit as the day went on, and as you got a good reaction to your gift. 
------
Dropping the flowers off at home, along with the cards you’d gotten, and fleeing hadn’t been your best idea in retrospect. The idea of being with them… when they say what you’d gotten for them and when they read their cards… was nauseating. Sickening. Horrifying. You wouldn’t be doing that. 
You set everything up on the counter, grabbed Scout’s leash and Scout himself, and headed out the door, intending to spend the morning at a cafe just down the street. You had your computer and some school work to finish, which seemed like as good of a distraction as any. 
Back home, Ingrid was lying awake in her bed, as she had been for a few hours. It was only when Mapi rolled over into her, her head clunking against Ingrid’s shoulder, that the Norwegian realized it was probably past time to get up. 
“Morning.” Mapi grumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin of her girlfriend’s shoulder. 
“Good morning,” Ingrid replied softly. The single word, dripping with anxiety, was enough for Mapi to lift her head and blink groggily at the other woman. 
“Something wrong?” She asked. 
“It’s mother’s day.” Ingrid whispered, tears inexplicably clouding her vision. Mapi was sitting up in a flash, pulling the younger woman into her chest. Ingrid nuzzled close to the soft t-shirt Mapi was wearing, inhaling the comforting scent of the woman she loved. 
“Mi amor,” Mapi sighed. “I know, it’s a hard one right now. You don’t have to call her, though. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can cancel lunch with my mom, stay here with Solstråle. We can pretend it isn’t mothers day.” 
Ingrid shook her head, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “No, your mom deserves to be celebrated. We’ll go to lunch. I want to give Solstråle some space today, but I’m worried about her. And I don’t want to call my mom. That would be like… betraying my sister. I don’t want to speak to that woman. She doesn't deserve it.”
“Okay.” Mapi agreed, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. The Norwegian’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and she relaxed into her girlfriend once again. “We’ll keep an eye on our Sol, and we’ll be quick at lunch. And you can have as many hugs as you want.” 
“Can’t I always?” Ingrid asked with a small smile. 
“You have a point.” Mapi chuckled. “I am going to go make you a coffee, be right back.” 
With that, she rose from the bed, pressing a quick kiss to Ingrid’s lips, heading for the kitchen. Ingrid stayed in bed, worrying about you and how you’d act today, until she heard Mapi call out for her in a strangely choked voice. She was out of bed within a second, rushing down the hall towards her girlfriend. 
“What?! What is it?!” Ingrid shouted, sliding in her socks on the wood floor into the kitchen, looking around frantically. 
She saw Mapi first, staring with tears in her eyes at a little card that had the Spaniard’s name on it. She saw the two vases next, sitting precisely in the middle of the counter. One with daisies, one with pink roses. There was a card with Ingrid’s name on it on the counter, too, and it wasn’t hard for Ingrid to connect the dots. Her first concerns were with her girlfriend, though, who’s lip was wobbling dangerously, as she blinked rapidly down at the card in her hand. 
“María?” Ingrid murmured. “Baby, are you-?”
Mapi blindly reached a hand out towards Ingrid, a hand that the Norwegian took. Gently, Ingrid rubbed her girlfriend’s back, reading the card over her shoulder when Mapi tilted it slightly in her direction. 
María,
It’s mother’s day, and it didn’t feel right to let today go by without telling you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You allowed me into your home without a second thought. You met my stubbornness and hostility with love and kindness, and I will forever be grateful to you for that. You love Ingrid so deeply, and I couldn’t wish for a better partner for my sister. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be as good of a person as you are. I hope you like your flowers, and I hope you know how much you mean to me.
Love, Solstråle.
By the time Ingrid had finished reading, Mapi had turned in her arms, burying her face in the crook of Ingrid’s neck, and was sobbing quietly. They were happy tears, Ingrid realized. Emotional, but happy. Ingrid couldn’t do much but hold Mapi tightly to her, and press kisses into the top of her head. 
“She means every word, you know? And she’s right. You are the best person I know, the kindest, the most loving. You deserve the flowers, María.” 
That set off another round of tears, bringing a small laugh out of Ingrid, always astounded and impressed by how emotionally… healthy her girlfriend was. 
“Damn you Engens. Making me cry.” Mapi huffed, using Ingrid’s shirt to wipe her tears away. 
Ingrid took her girlfriend’s face in her hands, carefully kissing her lips. “Because we love you very much.” 
“Cut it out, Ingrid.” Mapi complained, though she was smiling shyly. “Open your card, I want you to cry.” 
Ingrid laughed, reaching for her own card, though she hesitated before opening it. Mapi had moved to get the coffees going, but turned to glance at Ingrid when she fell silent. 
“Open it.” Mapi encouraged, turning away to give Ingrid space to read. 
It was another little card, in your big handwriting, a bit longer than Mapi’s. Ingrid took a deep breath, trying to stave off tears before she even started reading. 
Ingrid,
Mother’s day is weird now. It kind of always has been, but I’m sure it’s weird for you now, too. I hope today isn’t too difficult for you. You are a lot more to me than a sister. I’ve always looked up to you, always seen you as a role model. And I still feel that way. Now, though, you’ve taken me in and been so patient with me. More patient than I deserve. I feel safe here, with you. For the first time in a really long time. Safe and loved, in a way I had kind of forgotten existed. Ingrid, you changed my life. You saved my life, too. I’ve never felt very worthy of love or care, but it’s so readily available here. And if someone as good as you thinks that I am worthy of your love, your time, your attention, then I must be. At least a little bit. There aren’t enough flowers in the world to express how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you Ingrid. Really, just thank you. I love you very much, even if I don’t always show it or say it. 
Love, Solstråle. 
And now Ingrid was crying, and Mapi was abandoning the coffee to pull her into a tight hug, and you were walking in through the front door at just the perfect time. You had just barely unclipped Scout’s harness before you were being forcibly pulled upright into some kind of suffocating group hug.
And normally, something like this would have probably made you uncomfortable. You felt yourself melting into the hug, though, before you really knew what you were doing. Embarrassment flooded you. Regret flooded you. Because even though the hug was nice, you felt dangerously exposed. Dangerously vulnerable. 
------
You insisted that Ingrid and Mapi go to lunch with Mapi’s parents and her brother, without you. Both girls tried to explain, while respecting your privacy as much as possible, why you had stayed home, although Mapi’s mother was rather insistent that she wanted you at lunch, too. You were part of the family, after all. 
It was only when you were home alone, curled up on the couch with Scout, that the reality really hit, that questions you didn’t want to consider really started to flood into your brain. 
Had they really liked the flowers? The cards? There wasn’t much time to talk, as they’d had to get ready for lunch, and both of them had clearly been crying. Maybe… maybe they didn’t really like what you had to say? Maybe you were putting pressure on them to be something they weren’t. It was so easy for you to spiral into self doubt when you were left to your own devices. 
Should you have called your mom? 
No matter how much time passed. No matter how many times Ingrid and Mapi told you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that she had been the issue. You were pretty sure you’d always blame yourself, at least a little. You’d spent so long thinking you were at fault, and that kind of thinking was hard to break out of. Knowing that you weren’t to blame, and really believing it were two different things. And something was easier about blaming yourself. Safer. 
Maybe you should have called. Maybe you should take the first step. She was your mother, after all, and you only had one. You couldn’t help the guilt that began to suffocate you, the insecurity, the self hatred. 
You wished you could just hear Ingrid and Mapi tell you that they loved you, that you were a good person, and believe it. You were kind of afraid, though, that you’d never fully believe that. 
The best thing to do, the most logical thing, was to shut yourself in your room for the rest of the day. So you took Scout and some snacks and buried yourself under as many blankets as you could, tucked away in your room. A closed door between you, and the avalanche of emotions and feelings you’d let out earlier in your cards. 
Too vulnerable. You’d been too vulnerable, and there was no taking it back, and that was terrifying. Being vulnerable in the first place wasn’t easy, but not wanting to die afterwards was even harder. 
-------
Ingrid and Mapi returned from lunch to find the house dead silent. Your bedroom door was tightly shut, and when Ingrid peaked her head in, you had been pretending to be asleep. So, she headed for the living room, tucking herself into the corner of the couch, thought after thought running through her head. 
Had she been too emotional with you earlier? Had you not really meant what you’d said in your letter? Were you just trying to be nice? Ingrid had learned not to push you before you were ready for something, and she felt like today, she had. She should have played it cooler, not made it as big of a deal. 
And, fuck, she should have called her mom. 
She shouldn’t have, but she should have, and there was no correct answer in her head. Either decision made her feel like she was being bad. A bad daughter or a bad sister. 
And now she was being a bad girlfriend, because Mapi had been trying to get her attention for several minutes, and she’d been too spaced out to notice. 
“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, this time reaching out to grab onto her girlfriend’s hand and squeezing. 
“Sorry, sorry. I was distracted.” Ingrid said. “What?”
“I checked on Sol. She seems upset. You should go up there and talk to her.” 
“No, no, today has been a lot for her, she has to process her emotions.” Ingrid said, shaking her head. “She doesn’t want to see me right now.”
Mapi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Honestly. The two of you were both hyper aware of the others’ feelings while simultaneously being too afraid to actually talk about said feelings. You needed each other, today, and Mapi was done trying to get you to figure that out yourselves. 
“Enough of this. Vamos.” She stated decisively, standing up from the couch, grabbing Ingrid’s hand and pulling. Ingrid groaned her annoyance, but went somewhat willingly.
Mapi dragged her up the stairs, knocking on your door before entering upon your response. You were still on your bed, trying to hide the evidence of your almost constant tears, when Mapi entered the room with Ingrid in tow. 
“Alright. Both of you need the other right now. Sol, Ingrid isn’t mad at you. Ingrid, Sol isn’t mad at you. Everything is fine. Stop overthinking.” And with that, paired with a small shove to Ingrid’s back, pushing the Norwegian in your direction, Mapi looked between you two expectantly. 
You looked very cautiously, but also somewhat hopefully, up at your sister. 
Ingrid looked at you similarly, taking a hesitant step closer to the bed. “What do you need, Solstråle?” She asked, determined, at least, that you get better about asking for what you needed. If it was space, she'd respect that. And if it was a hug? Well. Good. Because she really needed one too.
You shifted slightly, lifting one of your arms in a half gesture. “Sit with me?” You requested. 
Relief flooded Ingrid’s face as she all but launched herself onto the bed next to you, instantly pulling you into a tight hug. You were relieved, too, that you hadn’t been too much for either of them. That your love in return wasn’t too much. Your mom had always made you feel like it was suffocating, the way you tried to get her to pay attention to you and love you.
Ingrid and Mapi never did that. They just… gave you what you needed, without a second thought. Before anything else. As you sat squished in between the two of them, listening to all the details from the lunch you’d skipped, you realized that all you’d needed today was Ingrid. Being with Ingrid and Mapi made your head go quiet. There wasn’t room for doubt when they were on either side of you. Mapi trying ridiculously hard to make you laugh. Ingrid combing her fingers through your hair without a second thought. 
You fit here, in this family. With them. They told you you fit, that you were wanted, and that was something that was getting more and more believable as time went on. You had a family, and even if you didn’t really have a mother to celebrate today, you had two people who put you before anything else. People that loved you more than your mother had. You had a family, again. And that was really something to celebrate. 
------
:) happy mothers day to everyone who celebrates, and to everyone that doesn't.
however you feel is valid. if today is hard, or if today is easy, there will always be tomorrow, and tomorrow will be even better.
<3
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aikunik · 6 months ago
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Yandere Male idol x GN reader
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another view of the writing
warning: yandere tendencies, delusional yandere, nsfw
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Sol always had eyes for you, you were his first supporter, even amongst the largest crowds of more than one thousand people he could still sense if you were in the crowd or not, he would panic, and start hyperventilating if he couldn't see you amongst the crowds, once it got so bad that he had to go backstage to avoid the paparazzis surrounding him.
He didn't know how overly obsessive he was with you. he knew but wanted to play hard to get, that was until you looked at someone else or started going to other band's concerts.
It started a while ago, in highschool where you were Sol's classmate, the pretty classmate who sat at the back of the class, always staring out the window. Back then in highschool, he had already developed strong feelings for you. You were the colour to his world, one day, you acknowledged him for his singing and dancing skills. He was ecstatic from your reaction. So much so that he applied for one of the biggest idol companies in the world. Then he trained, for a year or two and rose to stardom, you were his biggest supporter from the start.
You didn't know he was your classmate, since he changed so much, his personality changed and so has his physical appearance, he died his hair a platnium blonde and worked out during his whole trainee period, so there was no way you could recognise him. He wanted to change since you had always regarded him as a mere classmate.
You called yourself Sol's no.1 defender, you would always defend Sol in arguments, like when they called Sol a coward for hyperventilating on stage, being his long-time supporter, you couldn't stand the hate and decided to shut them down yourself. Sol would always see you on social media, commenting and praising him for his dancing skills and amazing charisma on stage. whenever he saw your posts about him or your face he always busted a huge load to it, covering his entire phone screen hot strips of cum, he would always go to the bathroom and jerk off to you when hes stressed.
"m-my darling must love me s-so much! ha... oh!"
Everytime there was a meet and greet he would always look for you, but there was this time when there was no you, he searched through the crowds panicking..
"m-my.. darling.. is not here today?.. ha.. maybe they were too busy with school work! yeah! they're playing so hard to get for my attention"
Sol was just being delusional. You had no feelings for him at all and only regarded him as your role model.
Sol wanted to think this was just a slip up, but his eyes were on the edge of giving out for the whole meet up, he had almost started crying right there on the spot, but his manager told him to go to the bathroom for a while, to freshen himself.
He used that order as an excuse. He wanted to find you. Where have you been? You've been wanting for him to find you right? just like hide and seek. Until he couldn't find you. He started immediately breaking down onto the streets after he checked your instagram and your latest post was at another band's concert. He started suffocating, he started feeling uneasy in his stomach he couldnt bear it he sobbed right in the middle of the busy streets, many fans walking by tried to help him, but he was too lovesick, sitting on the bare concrete floor.
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reminder to hydrate
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softspiderling · 9 months ago
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think you're a genius (you drive me up the wall) | r.c.
summary: it wouldn't be an outer banks party if there wasn't at least one fist fight. also, rafe is trying to turn over a new leaf.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
word count: 3,8k
warning: mention of blood, violence (reader gets punched in the face, but there are no graphic details), shitty topper (sorry top)
author's note: long awaited (at least by me) rafe fic, whoop whoop!!! no usage of Y/N, happy reading, don't forget to reblog!!! also tagging @sunderlust bc i borrowed some of our conversation in this fic😘love you sol
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“Since when do you drink beer?”
Barely pausing at the words, you continued to stack cold beer cans in your arms, the condensation dripping onto your skin. You didn’t have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to, having heard it so many times. And this was his house after all.
“Wasn’t aware you kept track of my drink of choice,” you retorted, turning around to face him, while simultaneously trying to balance the cans.
Rafe raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze lowered to the beer in your arms. “… You trying to tell me that all that beer’s for you?”
“You calling me a lightweight?”
The corner of Rafe’s mouth ticked up and he took a sip from his drink, the ice clinking in the glass.
“I think we both know I’m not.”
If someone had told you that one day you’d be standing in the parlor of Tannyhill, having a mostly civil conversation with Rafe you’d have them institutionalized. But things have changed. When Sarah returned with the news that Ward has died protecting Sarah, Rafe imploded at first. Blaming her for his death, the downfall of their family and generally being ungrateful for Ward’s love for her.
Everyone avoided the Cameron estate for a while, hearing stuff crash and yells from a mile away. No one dared to step close. A few days after, the disturbances stopped, being replaced with complete silence.
It was so silent, you actually grew concerned until Rafe turned up at Heyward’s setting up a weekly grocery delivery. Pope had dumped the stuff he was holding as soon as Rafe had stepped into the store, storming outside, with Cleo hot on his heels, leaving you to set up the standing order.
“Can you tell Sarah I’m sorry?”
“What?”
You looked up from the register and Rafe clenched his jaw, giving you a look.
“You really gon’ make me say it again?”
“How about you call her yourself instead of making me deliver your message like a post boy?”
Rafe exhaled deeply, knitting his eyebrows together like he was really trying not to explode and honestly, you had to respect him for that. You know how impatient he could be.
“I tried, okay? Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve tried to call her, she’s not picking up. Fuck, I don’t even know if she still has the same phone number,” he said, like the words physically pained him. “I don’t even know where she’s staying. Is it at John B’s new place?”
Somewhere between his words, Rafe had started pacing up and down the stairs, making you antsy.
“Hey,” you said, coming around to slowly, carefully - like you were trying to pet a stray cat - curl your hand around his wrist. Rafe immediately stopped, eyeing his wrist where you were touching him.
“Sorry, I’ll take my hand off,” you quickly said, but before you could, Rafe stopped you.
“’s fine,” he muttered, meeting your eyes for a second before looking away again. “Physical touch grounds me… Y’know… When my thoughts get too… Much.”
You swallowed thickly, nodding at him and staying in place, for god knew how long, until Rafe had seemed to calm down.
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
You drew your hand back, crossing your arms over your chest and leaned against the counter to put some distance between you and him, wildly overwhelmed with this situation. Rafe didn’t seem like he knew what to do either, turning his ring on his finger, his eyes cast on the floor.
“If you really want to apologize to Sarah,” you started, making him look up. “Maybe I can talk to her. Ask her if she’s willing to meet up with you.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, clearly surprised. “You’d do that for me?”
“Don’t let it get to your head. I’m mostly doing it for Sarah,” you scoffed and Rafe only smirked, shaking his head.
“Sure, tough girl. Gonna ring me up now or what?”
Rolling your eyes at him, you returned to the cash register, finishing up his order. You still felt his eyes on you as you worked away.
“Thanks,” he finally said, and you lifted your head, briefly meeting his eyes.
“Don’t mention it.”
And he never did.
Miraculously, you had managed to get Sarah to agree to talk to Rafe and while you had accompanied her to the beach, where she had met up with Rafe, you stayed behind to give them privacy. You weren’t sure what they had talked about, but you didn’t press her about it either when she came stomping back to you with tearstained cheeks. Whatever they have talked about must have helped though, because even though Sarah still stayed with John B of the the times, she went home every odd night, returning with sandwiches and drinks the next day like a soccer mom. It went unsaid that Rafe had provided her with everything and Sarah avoided talking about him, mostly because Pope still got that distant look in his eyes whenever she mentioned her brother. Which is why you were surprised that he was the first one to agree to go to a party Rafe had invited Sarah to, forwarding the invite to her friends.
“What?” Pope had said everyone gave him an odd look. “He stole a family heirloom of mine. The least he can do is invite us to a party of his.”
“Okay then,” JJ jeered, beating on Pope’s back with his opens palms. “Let’s go to a Kook party.”
You had to admit that it was nice to see that the two tribes of the island coming together. The fact that Pogues were invited to a party on Figure 8 was huge. Granted, it was just you and your friends, but still. It was a start.
Loud cheering from outside brought you out of your thoughts, you and Rafe both looking towards the dimly lit backyard, where the main attraction of the party took place.
“JJ and John B are destroying a group of Kooks at Rage Cage right now,” you then explained, lifting the beer in your arms. “Hence... You know.”
“Right right, I was starting the wonder what all that yelling was about,” Rafe mused.
“So how come you’re not out there?”
Rafe shrugged. “Needed some quiet.”
“What, you having your private party in here?” you teased and Rafe smirked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Why? You jealous?”
You rolled your eyes, shifting the beer cans in your arms, the weight slowly getting to you.
“In your dreams, Rafe,” you scoffed. “I got to go, get these beers to the boys before they’ll get warm. You should come down, when you’re done brooding and shit.”
Throwing your last words over your shoulder, you returned to your friends, being welcomed with loud cheers as the empty cups get filled rather quickly. You dropped down into your empty chair, taking your drink from Kiara who had been holding onto it during your absence.
“Pope was about to send a search party because you were taking so long,” she said and you gave Pope a look over the brim of your cup.
“You’re such a mother hen. I was talking to Rafe.”
“Why the hell were you talking to Rafe?”
“You talked to Rafe?”
“Jesus, guys relax,” you groaned, leaning your head back. “He’s fine. He didn’t even do anything. We just talked.”
“It’s never just anything with Rafe,” Pope muttered.
“I get that,” Sarah started, rolling her empty cup in her hand. “But he’s different.Like… He regrets a lot of the thing’s he’s done and trying really hard to make up for his mistakes,” she paused, pressing her lips together tightly. “I’d be the last person to defend him, but I feel like he’s trying to turn over a new leaf.”
Before Pope was able to list all of the bad things that Rafe has done in the past, your conversation was interrupted, angry yells ringing over the music.
“So now you’re just all buddy buddy hanging out here, huh?”
The new voice wasn’t really new and everyone looked at Sarah, who paled, slowly pushing herself up from her chair, looking towards the disturbance, the rest of the group following her.
“Shit. What the hell is Topper doing here?”
The sudden intrusion of a rather inebriated Topper had immediately tanked the relaxed and laid back atmosphere; suddenly, everyone was tense, not daring to make a move in fear of making the wrong one.
“What? Aren’t we here to party?” Topper cajoled, waving a half empty bottle of whiskey around. “Let’s get rid of these Pogues and party!”
The rest of the Kooks looked between themselves, not really wanting to follow Topper’s request but also not wanting to defend your friends. Even if they just had fun together, the Kooks wouldn't go as far as openly defend Pogues, you knew that.
“You should leave, Topper,” John B said, his hands curling at his sides, which was fair, honestly. Even though you had rebuilt the Chateau, bigger, better and most importantly more fire resistant, Topper burnt down John B’s home. His safe space. Topper only widened his eyes at John B comically, snorting.
“Who are you to tell me to leave?”
Sarah pushed herself to the front, pressing herself to John B’s side, which was probably not the smartest thing she could have done, as it only aggravated Topper even more to see her next to John B. You and the others stood right behind her, ready to step in as soon as it escalated.
“Leave, Topper,” Sarah snapped at him. “Nobody invited you.”
“Yeah, as far as I know, you don’t even live here anymore, Sarah,” Topper said, spitting out her name like it was venom in his mouth.
“I didn’t invite you.”
You hadn’t even noticed Rafe having joined you, not really standing on your side, but not on Topper's side either. Suddenly, the tension had grown even thicker and by now, you realized this could go wrong in about a 100 ways.
Topper stared at his friend, mouth agape, before he collected himself, pulling a face.
“Seriously, Rafe? Weren’t you the one who told me that I’m better off without your bitch of a sister and now you’re taking her side?”
“Watch it, Top,” Rafe only said, not even moving an inch.
Not that he had to. Everyone knew what Rafe was capable of, if he was angry enough. Topper only narrowed his eyes at his friend, weighing his options.
“Topper, just go,” Sarah yelled, walking towards him for good measure, trying to offer some sort of olive branch, but Topper only pushed Sarah roughly, causing her to stumble to the ground.
“Jesus, fuck, Topper,” you snapped, rushing to get Sarah back on her feet again, making the fatal mistake of getting between him and John B, as you received a sickening punch to the side of your face.
“Fuck!”
“Holy shit, Topper are you insane?”
You had toppled over your feet to the grass, not having expected the punch at all. Disoriented, you touched your throbbing cheek, your fingers stained red when you looked at them.
“Fuck,” you moaned, feeling like you were about to pass out. Your friends quickly crowded around you, helping you up.
“Shit, girl, you alright?” Cleo asked, carefully pushing your hair to the side to assess the damage.
“Is Sarah okay?” you only asked, pausing to spit out some blood, leaning on Cleo, your legs still shaking.
“Dude, I’m fine!” Sarah said, wrapping an arm around you, still shaking herself.
Your vision was still dizzy, and the voices were not helping, but it seemed like most of the party goers had dissipated as the argument had started. As your eyes adjusted, you could just see Rafe holding Topper by the collar of his shirt and saying something you couldn’t quite understand, before he tossed his friend on the ground. Topper didn’t take long to get back to his feet, fleeing from the scene.
Rafe turned around, his eyes scanning over you before turning to Sarah.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just a bruise,” Sarah said, her eyes fixated on you. “But you should definitely get checked out. I can't believe Topper punched you."
“Come on, I got a first aid kit upstairs and some ice for the swelling.”
Rafe reached out to grab you under the arms, but Cleo was reluctant to let you go.
“Maybe I should help.”
“Seriously?” Rafe asked, incredulously and you only watched with narrowed eyes, your reaction time still limited.
“We should just take her home,” Pope chimed in, grabbing you by the shoulder gently, jostling you around.
“Guys, I’m gonna be sick if you keep handing me around like a joint,” you groaned, shutting your eyes, in the hopes of making the dizziness better.
“Pope, it’s fine. Rafe’s not going to hurt her. And he knows a thing or two about patching up wounds,” Sarah said, Pope’s grip on you loosening.
“Fine. But you even look at our girl funny, and you got another thing coming, you hear me, Rafe?”
“Yeah yeah, I got it,” Rafe grunted.
You peeked an eye open, when your friends let go of you, Rafe looping his arm around your shoulder, pausing to look at John B. “You got Sarah, right?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about her.”
Rafe nodded his head in thanks, before leading you towards the house.
"Hey, just call if you need anything!" Kiara called after you, which you only replied with a weak "Okay!", your focus on putting one foot after the other. Rafe had his arm around your waist, taking most of your weight.
“Can you walk alright or do you need me to carry you?”
“If you pick me up right now, I will vomit on you,” you moaned and Rafe snorted.
“Right, and neither of us want that.”
It took you guys an embarrassing amount of time until you reached the house, since you kept making Rafe stop because you thought you were going to throw up. When you finally walked inside, Rafe lead you upstairs, instead of steering you towards the living room.
“Where are you taking me?”
“First aid kit is in my bathroom,” Rafe replied, mostly supporting your weight as you climbed the stairs.
“Ugh, your bathroom? Am I gonna get infected with herpes or something?”
“Is it the smartest idea to insult me in your position right now?” he asked dryly, and you almost sighed in relief when you reached the second floor.
“Just take me to your bedroom Rafe.”
“Alright, Princess,” Rafe sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice as he guided you to his bedroom, carefully depositing you on the bed. While he went to the bathroom to fetch the first aid kit, you took a second to catch your breath, hoping the world would stop spinning.
Rafe returned with the first aid kit, moving slowly so as not to startle you. He set it down on the bed and then looked at you, concern flickering in his eyes. "You okay?"
"Yeah," you mumbled, pressing a hand to your throbbing cheek. "Just a little dizzy."
"Right." Rafe opened the kit and began to rifle through it, pulling out a bottle of disinfectant and some cotton pads. “This is probably gonna sting,” he warned you.
“Do your worst.”
You managed to flinch only slightly as the cool, yet burning liquid hit your skin, with Rafe’s surprising gentle touch as he cleaned your wound. He put a small bandage on the cut, before sitting back to inspect his handiwork.
“I’ll go grab you some ice for the swelling,” Rafe then said, standing up. “No dozing off, though, a’ight?”
Without waiting for an answer, Rafe left the room, leaving you by yourself yet again. Even though he explicitly told you not to doze off, you laid down on the bed, figuring that it might make the pain a little less bad. As soon as your head hit the pillow, Rafe’s scent engulfed you, and you weren’t sure if you lying down in his bed was too... Intimate? Then again, he was the one who had left you in his bedroom by himself. Before you could sit up again, Rafe reappeared in the room, holding a bag of in his hand, an unreadable expression on his face as he took you in on his bed.
“Sure, go ahead and make yourself at home,” he huffed, but you could see the frown on his face. Rafe sat down on the bed next to you, carefully wrapping the ice bag in a small towel and pressing it against your bruise, his other hand cradling your face. Despite the ice on your skin, you felt your cheeks heating up.
It was odd. You’d never have expected that Rafe could be able to be so gentle, so caring, and you suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him.
“What’d you say to Topper?” you blurted out instead, breaking the silence. You reached up to hold the ice bag, and Rafe pulled his hands back, raising an eyebrow at you.
“What?”
“After he hit me. What did you tell him to make you leave?”
Rafe sighed, leaning back a bit, staring at the wall as his eyes hardened. “I reminded him of what he did to me when I… Hurt Sarah. Asked him if he was willing to beat me to a pulp for my sister, what he thought I’d do to him for hurting her.”
His eyes flickered back to you.
And you.
You let out a breath at the pregnant pause, scared he’d say something he couldn’t take back. Something real. Maye you had been flirting with him, but so what? There was no harm, they were just words. Right? But admitting something real? That was a whole other story.
“Who would’ve thought Rafe Cameron could be so nice?” You said instead, a teasing lilt in your voice.
Rafe snorted, shaking his head with a laugh, the moment dissipating. “Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it. It was a one time thing.��
“Right, right, we wouldn’t want people to think that Rafe the Kook prince actually has a heart.”
“Does that make you the Pogue Princess then?”
“What?” you asked, flushing. “Where’d you get that idea? That’s obviously Kie.”
“Come on,” Rafe huffed, rolling his eyes. “Kie’s half Kook. And don't even start with my sister. Sarah’s… Half and half, at least.”
You eyed him in amusement. It was clear that he’d spent a good amount of time on that analogy.
“What about Cleo?” you asked, humoring him.
“Ehh. She would’ve made a good Pogue princess, too bad you’ve already taken the spot,” Rafe said with a shrug. “Pogue Princess. Flirts with everyone, heart of gold, never hesitates to get right between a brawl to help out a friend and to call people out on their bullshit…. Should I continue?”
“Please don’t,” you laughed, pressing the ice bag to your cheek. “You’re talking shit out of your ass right now.”
“I’m talking shit out of my ass? You’re the one saying everything that comes to your mind to stop yourself from kissing me right now.”
What?
“What?”
You never thought he’d actually say it out loud. Mention the elephant in the room. The tension you had been trying to ignore all this time. The silence that followed was deafening as you tried to find the right words, your heart beating in your chest.
“In your dreams,” you muttered hotly, repeating your words from earlier in the evening, looking everywhere but at him. It didn’t take long for Rafe to grab you by the chin gently, forcing you to look at him, his eyes piercing yours.
“In my dreams, yes,” he said quietly, inching so close that his warm breath was fanning across your face. “What about yours, princess?”
Gaping at him, speechless, you knew you didn’t have long until Rafe would take your silence as rejection. Your mind was racing, but ultimately, you leaned in, closing the gap and finally kissed him. Rafe let out a soft grunt, dropping his hand from your chin and cupping the back of your head instead to press even closer to you. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, as you finally admitted the attraction you felt to another, but you pulled away, when you felt a tad too dizzy.
“Right, shit,” Rafe cursed, knitting his brows together, examining your cheek. “Got too carried away.”
You flushed, handing him the small ice bag, that was more or less a bag of water now. Rafe dumped it in the trash next to the nightstand, before turning back to you with a smirk.
“Took you long enough.”
“Shut up,” you huffed and Rafe only grinned, pushing your hair out of your face, where it stuck to your wet cheek. You leaned in for another kiss, only for Rafe to stop you, holding you back.
“Nuh-uh. You get better first. Next time, I want you to get dizzy because of my mouth and not because you just got punched in the face.”
“You sound real confident there will be a next time,” you pointed out.
Rafe sighed, faux-exasperation. “Princess, don’t act dumb, it doesn’t suit you. You really think I’ll let you go after you’ve professed your love for me?”
“After I did what?” you shrieked in laughter, and Rafe only laughed. It was nice seeing him laugh for real for once, not the smarmy, smirk he used to do. After your laughter subsided, your pursed your lips, serious.
“You know my friends won’t take this well, right? Especially Pope.”
Rafe ran his hand over his buzzed hair, exhaling softly. “I know. But I won you over, didn’t I? Rest will be a piece of cake.”
“I’m serious, Rafe.”
You gave him a look and he leaned down, clasping his hands in his. “So am I. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have been trying to make things up to him, to Sarah. To everyone. It might take a while… And I don’t blame him.”
“As long as you’re aware…. Now, can we get back to kissing?”
“Didn’t you just hear what I said?”
Pushing your lower lip forward, you pouted at him. “One kiss.”
Rafe stared at you for a hot second, frowning. “Fine. One.”
But when he leaned down to give you a chaste kiss true to his words, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you.
"Jesus, are you trying to kill yourself?" Rafe hissed, but you only cackled, almost taking your bandage off in the process.
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author's note: pls leave a comment/reblog/like if you liked it🥹
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evandsolo · 2 months ago
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All of the girls you loved before | ft. Yunho
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jeong yunho x reader
genre : romance, SoL, slight angst words : 1,457. trigger warning : insecurities. request : hi!! if you are comfortable with it, would you write a yunho imagine based on taylor swift's all of the girls you loved before? that would be so nice! 💓 author's note : It actually was so great to write ! I loved that SO MUCH. I really really hoped that you like it ! Please do not hesitate to send more. masterlist
There’s those nights sometimes, when you lay next to him, but you’re just unable to fall asleep. The day has been pretty much the definition of what you’d call the perfect day. He came home, bringing flowers. You had a very fancy diner on the beach. You watched the sunset buried in his arms. Now you’re snuggled against him, under the sheets and you can’t help but think about everything and nothing. The way he murmured “I love you, baby.” before falling asleep in your arms. How you feel truly happy in this life but undeserving at the same time. 
You took a long time to analyze his peaceful face. You’ve never seen him that peaceful before. You knew Yunho long before you were finally together. He was a childhood friend. His parents and yours were neighbors and you two have literally grown up together. You’ve seen every little part of him. You’ve witnessed him falling in love for the first time. How he was brokenhearted when she dumped him, even though he was so nice to her. He was so happy when his high school crush said yes to him. You wiped his tears, when he came back a few months later when she betrayed him. Then his family moved out of town, and you lost sight of him for a few years. 
When he moved back in town, he was a full grown up, more handsome than ever. You thought that you’ve never seen someone that beautiful in your life. But your heart was shattered into pieces. You were dumped not so long ago. The one you had at that time, as probably the worst. You used to fight over the phone for some nonsense you actually can’t even remember now. He was jealous of everything, and made you live hell, for nearly a year. You thought you couldn’t make it through. That your heart would hurt at every single beat it takes. 
He was there, he healed every wound with patience, comprehension, attention and support. He knew how to treat you. He knew you so well, it was easy for him. He remembered every small detail. He listened when you needed it. And that’s probably how you fell in love with him. With this giant heart, that is now beating next to you. The feeling was so overwhelming, tears began to flow in your eyes. To avoid waking your lover up, you gently left the bed, to join the living room. You couldn’t sleep anyway, and overthinking wouldn’t help you. 
You sat in the armchair next to the floor-to-ceiling window. The entire city was depicted in front of you, and you let the tears run down your cheeks. You weren’t sad. You just felt way too lucky for someone who certainly does not deserve that much love. He treated you so well, loved you so much, he learned how to love properly through past experiences. And you’re so thankful for that. Thankful for how life puts your paths the same way so you can learn together what true love means. You truly cannot imagine what your life would look like without him. Just thinking about it makes you sob even harder. 
“Baby?” You hear his sleepy voice, appearing in the room.”What’s wrong, hun ?” He said, approaching you. “Nothing. couldn’t sleep.” You say, fastly drying your tears. “And that’s why my pretty girl is crying ?” You knew you couldn’t lie to him, but you tried. You sigh and cross his sight to see how worried he was. “You should go back to sleep, love. You have a big day tomorrow.” You try to avoid the conversation. Immediately after you have risen, he grabs you between his arms to hold you against him. “ I won’t. Not as long as you are sad.” He says. He puts a kiss on the top of your head, pats your hair. “I’ll wait till you’re ready to tell me about everything that makes you feel bad.” That makes your heart burst, and your tears start to run down again. 
“It’s just that, I love you so much.” You say against his bare chest. “ Wait ? You’re crying because you love me ?” You could hear the surprise in his voice. Hearing that from him, sounded so ridiculous you wanted to bury your face in his skin. “Yeah ?” you admit. “I feel so loved, sometimes I feel like I don’t give you a quarter of what you give me. I would love you even more, make you even hap…” “Hey. No, stop. Hear me out.” he says, lifting your head up to catch your eyes. “You love me more than anyone has ever loved me. And I couldn’t be happier than I am with you, baby. I have everything, now that I have you.” He says with the most endearing voice ever. 
“Are you, for real ?” You can’t help but ask; It was stronger than you, you wanted to be sure that he was perfectly happy with you. “ I am, y/n. I’ll always be for as long as you stay with me.” He strengthens his embrace around you, his warmth starting to ease your mood. “ I’ll always be by your side, Yunho, as long as you want me to be.” You add, putting a slight kiss on his shoulder. 
“You are absolutely perfect. With you, there’s no morning where I feel like waking up next to a stranger. I never feel alone, because I carry your love with me every day. You’re always somewhere in my mind.” You look at him, while he is opening about his feelings. He radiates something you can’t explain. His traits are highlighted by the shining light of the moon. From your point of view, he looked like a Greek statue. From the slight bounce of his cheek, to the straightness of his jaw, he was absolutely perfect. “ Everything seems so easy, so natural with you. It’s like we were meant to be. Like you were made for me. Perfect, smart, beautiful and so easy to love.” His words radiate directly to your soul, erasing every bit of worries you had. 
“I want you to promise me something.” You ask, nesting your head in his neck. “ Whatever you want, Baby.” His words were so fast, but so full of meaning. “I want you to tell me if one day you don’t feel well, if you feel that I’m not giving you enough, if things change between us.” You don’t think it’d ever change, cause your love for him was endless, but you just wanted to be sure. “I promise.” A sigh of relief escapes from your chest to his answer. 
“You know that I love you endlessly, right ?” You say, a hand on his heart. “ I want to know what eternity sounds like with you. I want to grow old by your side, Yunho. And sometimes it scares me.” Late night talks always are the best for confession, but you could never have imagined that this insomnia, that night, would lead you to open your heart so much. “You don’t have to be scared. Everything we’ll be fine. Just fine. We’re together now. You won’t have to fight anymore, no more goodbyes.” he whispers. “ You’re the love of my life, y/n. I know that for sure.” 
You pressed a kiss on his lips as if you wanted to lock those words in a significant act. “I’m thankful.” You mutter. “ For what ?” 
“For every past experience. For every mistake that has led us to each other.” You admit and you felt it, deeply in your heart. Every little step, shaped you both to be the best version of yourselves for the other one. “You’re right. We should be thankful to have found each other again, after all those messes.” He confirmed, lost in his mind. “What are you thinking about ?” You call him, putting a hand on his jaw. “I was thinking of the perfect wife you would make.” And it makes your heart go wild. “ You want to marry me ?” All the surprise could be heard in your voice. “One day, yeah for sure.” He says, a huge smile on his face, before it transforms into a giant yawn. “ We should go back to sleep now.” You say, in a little laugh. 
He nodded and you took his hand to go back to the room. You both took back your places under the sheets and he surrounded you with his arms, once again. A hand pats your hair, and the other one, draws circles in your back. “Sleep well my love. And don”t worry about us anymore. We’re meant to be forever.” Just like that, reassured and full of his love, you fell asleep. 
I really hope you appreciated it, do not hesitate to reblog or to leave a note i’d love to read all about your thoughts. ✿
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mrinafria · 6 months ago
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And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you. (CoS)
[contains spoilers; tw: blood]
When they ask me about the purest love story out there, I'd show them these two.
It's not the sacrifice per se that makes it great for me, it's the way they feel about each other, about the love they give and receive. Even in their last/worst moments, they somehow find the courage because the other one is safe? Im Sol is scared out of her mind handling this traumatic ordeal on her own so she seeks help from the detectives. Her only peace of mind is that at least Seon Jae is safe. Then she learns about his phone call and doesn't spare a second to run. The same girl who was so scared a while back throws all caution out of the window the moment Seon Jae is in danger, because she'd risk her life than Seon Jae's. Can you imagine the trauma seeing him dying for the third time, and her actually witnessing it this time around? If I were Im Sol, I would do anything to not have to go through that too. Even if it meant losing the person so they were never my person to begin with.
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And Seon Jae. Boy is dying. Dying. You can see it in his eyes that he's aware of it too and yet, he is so grateful? So at peace with himself and with life? Like he has no regrets about any unfinished business, unlived years, unattained dreams, unspoken words to his loved ones. He already told Im Sol he loved her, and she reciprocated. That was enough. For him, that was good enough.
I go back to this scene like a masochist because THE DETAILS. By the time Im Sol arrives, you know Seon Jae is beyond saving. He knows it too. He's not even trying to escape or save himself. It looks like he's been holding on on his own for a while. His face has turned ashen, breathing uneven, hands slightly shaking. He's barely holding it together. Barely there.
However, he is not trying to push that guy away or take that knife out.
Instead, he's holding that guy's hand.
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Let that sink in for a moment.
He is holding on to that hand. JUST SO HE CAN HOLD ON TO THE GUY.
Since the taxi driver is at an advantage here, and Seon Jae knows he cannot fight back anymore, so he is using whatever he can as a last resort to keep the guy occupied with him, and keep him from going after Im Sol. Seon Jae could perhaps guess Im Sol would arrive any time since the cliff was where he'd found her earlier, sitting in shock. But even if she didn't make it, you can bet he'd have spent his last breaths trying to fall off the cliff taking the guy down with him. THIS SCENE. The resolution is so clearly etched on his face.
And then he sees her. And the detectives. She is safe. She is saved. He did it. He saved her. And it's the Im Sol who knows him, who recognizes him, who loves him. She is safe, and that's all that matters. He saved the person he loves more than his life, literally.
His job is done. The choice he made gave him the outcome he wanted and desperately fought for.
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And he is exhausted. All that resolve took a lot out of him. So we see his body finally giving up, him finally letting go. He resigns to his fate, but also not in a resentful way. He knew this was his fate all along (because no matter what choice Im Sol made, he'd choose to run toward her any day), it just happened earlier than expected. But he knew it, and he still made that choice. He doesn't regret it because he'd be making the same choice in every timeline (as he has been). He is able to see his Im Sol for one last time before his eyes close, with memories of their time together and Im Sol's voice echoing in his ears, his soul.
Sometimes you know the consequences, but make the same choice anyway. Because you like it.
The faint smile on his face in his final moments before he falls off the cliff? You'd think the boy won a gold medal for swimming or something. It's like he's achieved the biggest purpose there was in his life besides loving Im Sol. True to his words, he is grateful Im Sol exists in the world. That he got the chance to love her because she exists in this world. And he is thankful he gets to leave the world knowing Im Sol still exists in the world, his gift from the heavens.
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One is jumping through space and time, living the same nightmare, constantly, over and over again, and yet going out of her way to save her love. Even if it means carrying the trauma and heartbreak and pain and loneliness and longing of three, four, multiple timelines, for the same guy. The other is making the choice to love her through all the storm, all the warnings, all the odds of time and space and fate stacked against him. How could you be so brave when fate is both so very kind and yet so extremely cruel to you no matter what you do? How do you choose to persevere? How do you get to have a love so pure?
Should I be ready to die if I want to be with you? - Ryu Seon Jae
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coff33andb00ks · 3 months ago
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Carlos + 7,29 if you’re still taking reqs 🫣✨
"Well, this went horribly wrong..."/"Where did you get the flowers from?"
driver + number = drabble <3
warnings: charles gives stupid advice
ok I might maybe kinda sorta like writing for Carlos but 🤫 also definitely maybe have ideas to turn this into a longfic
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In your first week with Ferrari, he was the second person you met. He was walking out as you were walking in, but he stopped to greet you and introduce himself.
In your second week with Ferrari, he was the third person you saw after getting to the motorhome. By then he knew your name and though he didn't seem excited to see you, he wasn't rude.
In your third week with Ferrari, your crush developed.
It was over the smallest, stupidest thing, which only made it worse. If anyone had told you that you'd be giggling and blushing because a man called you sunshine, you would have said they were insane and launched into all the reasons you didn't need a man to lift your spirits.
But there you were, cheeks warm and giggling behind your hand as Carlos smiled at you.
You've learned that he loves to make people laugh. Yes he's serious when he needs to be but he seems to thrive when there's laughter, when the people around him are happy.
After that he's casually called you mi sol, to the point that Charles has started to notice. Which only makes it a million times worse. Because Charles, when he's not yapping about his dog and his girlfriend, likes to interfere.
"You and Carlos get along," he says as you walk together to the garage. You've been with Ferrari for almost four months now, and Charles has become, kind of, a friend.
"Carlos gets along with everyone?" You're trying your best to act calm but when Charles laughs softly you know he can see your cheeks turning pink.
"Ah, I don't remember him calling me his sunshine," he sighs wistfully.
"You're too gloomy for that nickname," you say without thinking. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you wonder when you began to feel comfortable enough around Charles to say such a thing.
But he isn't insulted, he only laughs again. "If you want him to finally ask you out, make him jealous."
That stops you in your tracks. "Excuse me?"
Charles stops a few steps ahead and turns around. "Make him jealous."
"What makes you think I want him to ask me–"
He glances behind you, smiling. "Ah, Carlos!"
You squeak, whipping your head around to look behind yourself. When you do, Charles laughs again, and you turn back to see him smirking. "You're horrible."
"You like him," he teases.
Rolling your eyes, you continue walking. "What are you, twelve?!"
He hounds you all the way to the garage, and finally, if only to shut him up, you agree to try his idea of making Carlos jealous.
"This is so not gonna work," you mutter under your breath as you enter the hotel that evening, a bouquet of flowers clutched in your hand.
Charles's idea is "perfect" - perfectly stupid.
"Just tell him they're from an admirer."
As if Carlos will care. As if he's going to see you holding flowers and say–
"Ah, mi sol."
You blink and realize Carlos is stepping onto the elevator with you. Smiling, you shift the flowers in your grasp. "Hey Carlos."
He looks at you, then at the flowers, then takes out his phone.
You're so going to take the most unflattering pictures of Charles tomorrow.
"Where did you get the flowers from?" Carlos asks after ten seconds of silence.
"Oh! I, um." You swallow. "They're from, uh... I got them."
If there's a higher power, you pray that it'll take you from this earthly hell right now. Carlos is looking at you as if trying to decipher what you said, and the elevator is going up, and you're unfortunately not dreaming.
"I see that you got them." He puts his phone away, his brow furrowing a little. "Are you going on a date?"
"God no," you laugh weakly. And now you know you'll never be the femme fatale you wish you could be. You're doomed to spend your life as the awkward, dorky loser girl. Unable to meet his eyes, you sigh. "Well, this went horribly wrong..."
"What?" Carlos looks even more confused.
"I should never have listened to him. Of all the stupid ideas. It's like out of a bad movie isn't it? Get yourself flowers it'll make him jealous and then he'll make a move. I can't believe I actually did it, that I actually let myself think he was right–"
"Mi sol."
You groan. "I'm sorry."
"I'm confused," he says. "Who were you listening to?"
"Charles," you mumble.
And to add to your embarrassment, Carlos begins to laugh. He's still laughing when the elevator stops and the doors open.
"It's not that funny," you say.
"I'm sorry, mi sol," he says between giggles. He's giggling and it's as cute as it is mortifying. "Who are you trying to make jealous?"
"You," you blurt without thinking as you step off the elevator. You can't look at him, can't imagine what his expression is, but can hear his laughter die immediately as you walk quickly to your room. You're almost at the door when a large hand gently grasps your shoulder. You know it's him and want the floor to open up and swallow you as he turns you to face him.
"Me?" Carlos asks softly. When you nod, his eyes soften and you're staring into your morning espresso. "Why would you want to make me jealous, mi sol?"
"I don't, I..." You slowly breathe in, only for the air to leave in a shaky gasp as his hand lifts to sweep your hair from your cheek. "I want you to like me."
A smile that could melt Antarctica. "I have since the moment I first saw you."
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ryuubff · 2 years ago
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just wanted to draw the silly phone call where solomon bails on your promised movie night and luci and barb give him crap for breaking the promise before starting to argue …… while dia is just there to stop them and actually feels bad for sol
just a close up of sol he looks sooooo babygirl i rendered his hair so. Much. 😭😭😭😭 IM GONNA KISS HIM
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matchalovertrait · 18 days ago
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We must stay focused, sisters.
Note: The build is the Edificio Bilbao by casmar (TSR)
Transcript
[The Law Offices; Del Sol Valley, California]
Daniela: Okay now remember, Tony can seem unapproachable but he means well.
Dulce: Wait, Tony??? THE Tony is the attorney you work with?
Daniela: Well, he prefers “Antonio” but Yoltic always calls him “Tony.” It stuck with me.
{FLASHBACK #1} Yoltic: The stars are aligning! One of my clients canceled on me.. wait, why did he? [Taps on phone aggressively]. Okay, Tony... paperwork, blah, blah, blah- whatever. Alright Dulce, are you still up for it?
{FLASHBACK #2} Daniela: Say hi to Tony for me.
{FLASHBACK #2} Yoltic: The bastard looks extra moody today, hm.
Dulce: Yikes. He sounds like a grumpy workaholic, but don’t worry. He and I will become besties.
Daniela: Um, maybe you should just focus on the legal consultation? That’s what you’re for.
Dulce: No, no. I got this. I can become friends with anybody.
Dulce: Even my biggest enemies like Hilary, Caruso, and my high school principal.
Daniela: If you say so! Alright, you’re going to be late. Good luck.
Dulce: You’re right. Thanks again, by the way.
[Dulce knocks on the door.]
Antonio: Come in.
Dulce: Oh. Hello.
Antonio: Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Alegría. I’m Attorney Antonio Romero.
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cheeeeseburger · 5 months ago
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It might be worth it for once
Fernando Alonso x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes! This was inspired by the song Slut!, by miss Taylor Swift! Enjoy!
You had just posted a picture on Instagram of Fernando driving you took when you were in the passenger seat, on your way to date night. You thought your caption was hilarious: “shut up and drive”, quoting the song by Rihanna. An hour later though, as the hate comments poured in, it suddenly wasn’t as funny.
Leaning on the railing of the hotel room you shared with Fernando, you scrolled through endless comments calling you names, criticizing you and your relationship. Of course, the classic “gold digger” was there. Even after four years of being publicly in a relationship with Fernando, people still didn’t get it. Even though you were used to it, it still hurt.
“Mi sol,” Fernando joined you on the balcony, pulling you into a hug from behind. He noticed that you were scrolling through the comments, “Same old, huh?”
“Always. Don’t they get tired of hating me, hating us together? It must be exhausting, after four years.” You replied, sighing.
Fernando took your phone away from you and put it in his pocket. He spun you so you were now facing him, with your back against the railing.
“You cannot let them get to you, mi sol. None of what they said is true. These people don’t know anything about us or our relationship. I love you, and that’s the only thing that matters.”
He tucked a few loose strands of your hair behind your ears, trying to comfort you. He could see that the comments had made more of an impact on you than they usually did.
“I know, baby, and I love you too. It’s just that we’ve been together for a few years now, and I had expected the hate to slow down. So what you’re older? That doesn’t change anything!” You were getting frustrated.
He kissed your cheek, wanting to calm you down.
“You’re right, it doesn’t change anything. We are just a normal couple, doing things the right way. We moved together, we’re gonna get married someday, have our own family, grow old together…” He laughed a little, “Well, I’m gonna get older earlier than you, but who cares?” He shrugged it off, not noticing your eyes were as big as saucers.
“Fernando, did you just say we were going to get married someday?”
He looked confused, and almost hurt.
“What, did you not expect us to get married someday? Or do you not want to?” He asked insecurely.
You were quick to respond: “No, no, I mean, of course, I want to get married to you! I’m just surprised that you would want to marry me!”
“Mi sol, why would I not want to make you my wife? He asked, genuinely surprised.
“Well… It’s just that I expected that you would grow tired of me one day, realize I was too young, not mature enough for you, or something like that…” You replied, looking away.
He forced you to look at him by pulling gently on your chin.
“How can you believe that I will ever get tired of you? Mi sol, I could never have enough of you. I always knew I was going to be proposing to you one day. It has been part of my plan ever since we started dating.”
You were blushing, ashamed of yourself for being so insecure: “Maybe one day you will start to believe the comments on my Instagram posts, and you will leave me because you think that I am a gold digger, or that I’m only using you for fame… Even though none of this will ever be true, of course!”
Fernando took both of your hands in his, then he exclaimed “I could never believe lies like this! Frankly, I am a little disappointed. Do you not have faith in me or our relationship?”
You gasped, realizing you had hurt his feelings: “I’m sorry baby, I did not mean in that way! I know that you love me, and I love you too. I promise, I’ve always imagined us being together for the rest of our lives, I just wasn’t sure if you shared my plan. If you didn’t, baby, I would be crushed to death. In fact, I have so much faith the future of our relationship that I already have a Pinterest board for our wedding as well as a list of potential baby names that suit the last name Alonso!” You admitted desperately, but also sheepishly.
Fernando immediately softened at your words.
“Mi sol, you have a list of names? Which ones are at the top?”
You turned a deep shade of red. “Right now, it’s Santiago for a boy, and Marisol for a girl, because it reminds me of the nickname you have for me.”
“Don't be embarrassed. These are very nice names, all in Spanish too… You’ve really thought about this huh?” He stroked your cheek, then pulled you closer to leave soft kisses on your jawline. He was clearly pleased to learn you had planned ahead.
“Of course. It’s not a simple task, it cannot be rushed.” He could hear your smile in your voice.
“Yeah? I kind of want to put a baby in you right now,” he whispered in you ear. You immediately shivered at his words.
“Me too. God, it would be so hot to walk around the paddock pregnant by a man fifteen years older than me. Everyone would know it was you that knocked me up. Everyone would know how good you treat me.” You were getting turned on by this fantasy and the trail of kisses Fernando left all over your throat. He was getting worked up too, and you could feel it on your thigh.
“I can do all of that, mi sol. Multiple times, even. I would love to see you at the races with a baby or two in your arms, and another one on the way.” He left your throat to give the same treatment to your shoulders, pushing the thin straps of you dress to the side. His hands were working efficiently too, getting access to your thighs by lifting the hem of your dress.
You brought him even closer to you by pulling him by the loops holding his belt in place.
“Baby, go ahead then. We would be the talk of the town. Oh, the scandal it would cause, especially since we’re not married.” The thought was thrilling.
Fernando went back to your neck, one hand lifting your leg and the other one on the side of your boobs.
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that part. I want to make you my wife before I get you pregnant. I want you to have my last name before I give it to the baby.”
You were conflicted, but also pleased. On one hand, you really, really wanted to get pregnant as soon as possible. But being his wife before being the mother of his children was also really tempting. You teased him: “Sounds like you are ready. Pretty please, tell me, do you have the ring already?”
Your boyfriend smiled against your neck. “In the first drawer of my dresser, hidden underneath my socks.”
You shrieked: “No way!” Fernando laughed at your excitement.
You hugged him tightly. He really was serious earlier.
He answered simply: “Yes.” You kissed him, and he kissed you back immediately. The kiss was soft and tender and had a thousand words hidden in it. It was full of I love you, no I love you more. It was the kind of kiss that creates buttefly. It was the type of kiss you remember forever. After a few minutes, or maybe a few hours, the driver pulled away.
“Mi sol, I know I haven’t even proposed to you yet, but what if we went inside and practiced for our wedding night?”
You laughed and followed him inside.
A year later, it was his turn to post on his Instagram. This time, it was a picture of your wedding. Multiple songs by Rihanna could have been fitting for the caption: We Found Love, Only Girl, Love On The Brain, and many more. Ultimately, he chose a simpler one: Mi sol.
And when you welcomed your little girl, his caption was similar: Mi sol y mi Marisol. This time, the comments were pretty nice.
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