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bakugohoex · 4 years ago

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Hi! I saw requests were open so I have one :] can you do a levi x marley nurse reader? Maybe she meets him when the scouts are undercover and they meet again when she finds out he's from Paradis? But the reader still helps Levi and both gain feelings with each other over time. Thank you and sorry this is specific sounding 😅💕

“i’d become a traitor just to be with you”

pairing: levi ackerman x female reader

cw: fluff, swearing

word count: 2400+

a/n: i’m so sorry for this coming out so late, idk why i’ve been unmotivated to write requests, but i swear all i have now is requests and my event on my list, also yeah check my 1k event out its the pinned post

summary: in which you’re a marley nurse having befriended levi without knowing his identity with the raid of liberio dawning on the survey corps having been followed by you, levi’s truth is revealed and a confession of your own, maybe there is happiness for you two

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The sound of the bells rang through the city, the medical facility had gotten their fair share of injuries after the win against the Mid-East a couple weeks ago. You had helped the injured to beds, wrapping the bandages around their blood-filled scars, after a long day of helping you were finally able to leave, not to your home, however. You stood against the brick wall, your nurse’s uniform clinging onto you, having seen the injured Eldians, the way the Marleyan soldiers shouted and taunted the weak made you sick to the stomach.

“Y/n.” The familiar voice came from the side, his dull eyes softer at the sight of how you had waited for him. “You waited.”

“I wasn’t going to just leave you.” You had met the man a few weeks back, he'd often come past the medical facility and had caught your eye, even having asked your name. He was sweet with his black undercut and suit, handsome even. But those eyes, those emotionless eyes had a past, you didn't know what it was, but you wanted to know.

He had asked you to go on a walk with him, even after every day of seeing the man he wanted to spend alone time together. By being an Eldian yourself you understood the pains of being one but being subjected by the Marleyans weren’t that bad, well that’s what you’d repeatedly say. It was all a lie, your parents having been sent to Paradis, having been sent to their deaths, sent to become titans.

The man put his hand out, you softly laced your fingers in his, for such a mysterious man his little touches the past weeks had grown. Now seeing him almost every day, this time it felt different, it felt like he was fearful. “The festivals tomorrow.” You smile out trying to make conversation with him.

His grip tightened as he looked down at your smaller figure, “I heard, you going?”

“Yeah, Falco that boy I told you about invited me to tag along with him and his friends.” You smiled out, in a matter of minutes the hand that had encased your own fell, you felt lonely almost. It was bad enough to have fallen for a man so mysterious, you never did know why he came to the medical facility. He was always so quiet yet spoke so much but now it seemed he was distant for another reason.

“You should stay home tomorrow.” You tilted your head in confusion, it wasn't an event that you could really miss. Having promised Falco that you'd go after he'd come to visit the long-haired man.

“Oh, I was going to invite you to come along.” You let out a heavy breath, you had thought something could come between the two of you. The long looks he’d give you as you tended to patients he looked down into the dark, taking a corner as you followed. You didn't even realise where you were going until it was just the two of you into a narrow alleyway.

He stops in his tracks looking at you, he doesn't meet your gaze, “get out of Liberio.”

“Levi.” You were even more confused than before, “what’s going on?”

He takes a few steps back, continuing to think about his choice right now. He knew from the first day he had met you, he needed to stay as far away as possible. He saw how you came up to him with that smile, oh god the smile that melted his heart. For the first time in years he had smiled back, a genuine smile at the way you helped the Eldians, how you secured their bandages, talked to the dying. How could he have not liked you and now the threat of you dying tomorrow. The threat that something would happen stayed with him until he met your worried gaze.

Your eyes glossed over, confusion filling you, the distance between the two of you making it harder to even see him properly. You remembered the conversation from this morning, how he had come up to you with haste.

“Hey Levi, this is earlier than usual?” You smiled brightly, the papers in your hand as you let him follow you around. His steps felt too cautious like he had more to say but couldn't instead he kept silent until your gaze fully went onto the black-haired boy.

He looks down not meeting your gaze, “can we meet after you finish work?”

“Umm sure why?” You pass the papers to the other nurses, he looks at how perfect you looked, how your hair set perfectly across your face.

Looking out the window, he notices the boy he had known you have called Falco run off with a letter. Before turning back to face you, “I just need to talk to you.”

“Okay I finish at 9.” He nods taking steps away.

How had you not realised, the way he walked away without even a goodbye. The way he hadn't cared to ask for your day, was this the end of whatever you could call this, was it even a friendship.

“Levi…” You repeated his name waiting for a response, he looked down at you wary of what to say. If he should even tell you, he knew your feelings to those in Paradis how your parents had been sent there. How you didn’t have the same hatred as the others but were wary instead. Would that wariness become something more, would it become disgust for him?

“Forget me.” He mutters about to walk away, walk out of your life. He hoped you’d listen to his words and hoped that you wouldn't go to the festival tomorrow.

You watched him walk away, how could he do this? Leave without an explanation, how could he say the simple two words, forget me you weren't some animal that could forget someone who had impacted your life. You stood there in silence watching as his figure disappeared, you heard the sadness that washed over you and did something you might have regretted.

Following the man, you wanted a reason at least. A reason for this coming out tonight, what had changed and what was so special about the festival, it was supposed to be joyous seeing the stalls with your friends. But the way he spoke, the way he wanted you to not go, it had an undertone of worry, he knew more than he was letting off.

You watched him walking into one of the abandoned buildings, the way he opened the door as if he’d done it a million times. You crept past going to the windows, you looked through, glad that the curtains were closed, and a gap was evident. Watching how Levi sat on the chair surrounded by other men and women, one with glasses looking at the man with confusion. There was talking, quiet talking until the woman spoke loudly making everyone shudder.

“Eren’s letters have told us what’s going on?” She paused; your fingers perched on top of the window sill. It was intrusive, but he left you with nothing, you deserved something. Well that's what you kept saying to yourself. The question at hand was who was this Eren, you only knew one Eren and that was the man who was with Falco. The memory of Falco with a letter sprung into your mind. It couldn't be, there couldn't be a link between these people and the injured man. “The Warhammer titan will be there tomorrow, that’s when we strike.”

“Are we sure Eren will be able to get Reiner?” A man spoke with long brown hair, he was tall, much taller than Levi and stood leaning against the wall.

“He better.” Is all Levi said, all conversation regarding Eren’s capability had ended and had turned to the plan at hand. Your mind going through what you had just heard, what was there interest in the Warhammer titan, or even worse how did they know Reiner?

The woman continued talking, having been in your own mind you heard the last bit, a shock running through your veins, “...we bring Eren back to Paradise.”

You clamped your hand to your mouth, falling against the wall in shock. Paradis, they said Paradis, Levi, he couldn’t be, but he was. Your Levi, the man who was always wary about his past, was always dismissing your questions of his past was from Paradis and even worse that means he was the Levi Ackerman that Porco had spoken about. Trying to suppress the worry that flew over you, you looked down to the soil, the way you breathed heavily against your palm and then the sound of a gun to your head.

“Who the hell are you?” It was the same boy from inside, you hadn't realised he had come outside, but with the gun cocked to your skull. You could barely speak, “Hanje, Levi.”

At the sound of the boys shout the two came out, Levi’s eyes widening at the sight of you on the ground. The sight of fear that ran through you, he knew you heard it all and all he could think about was if you wanted him to die. “Put the gun down Jean.” Jean confusingly complied as Levi stepped towards you, those inside having come to see what the commotion was.

“Y/n.” Levi bent down to meet your face, you refused to make eye contact.

Hanje spoke aloud, “you know her?”

He ignored the question, trying to meet your eyes, “Y/n…”

“You could’ve told me.” It was a whisper, but a shock filled him at your voice, “why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

You didn't care if he was from Paradis, you hated the Marleyans, all of them for what they did to your parents. Both sides were the same, but meeting someone actually from Paradis, falling for someone from Paradis how could you ever join the Marleyans now.

“Your people hate us.” He was blunt about it which was the obvious answer.

You looked at his face, “I fucking hate you…” His face fell, “for not telling me, Levi after everything I told you about with my parents, you really think I’d ever be on Marley’s side.”

He hadn't thought of that, only thinking that the sides had been determined. He hadn’t meant to come and see you every day for weeks, he hadn’t meant to ask about your day and your past. He hadn’t meant to fall for you, but he did and you, you stared at him with all the love you had.

“Is nobody going to explain what’s happening, or are we shooting her?” Levi glared at Jean as you looked down at your scathed fingers.

Helping you up, you looked at the group from Paradis, your history books had spoken about the devils beyond the sea but looking at the men and women. Those at home felt more devilish than these people, “this is Y/n, she works at the hospital Eren’s at.” So the Eren at your hospital was the Eren Yeager with the truths of how you both knew each other coming out.

One question stayed on everybody's minds, “can we trust her?” Hanje spoke what everybody was thinking.

Levi looked at you, his hand skimming your fingers that were to the side of your body, “i had nobody…” You turn back to Levi, meeting his eyes for the first time this night, “you can trust me.”

“How can we trust her word?” Jean questioned looking at the closeness between you and Levi.

Levi had be relieved but needed to settle the peace some way, “i trust her and she can help us, she’s a nurse.”

“One wrong move and we’ll take her hostage.” Hanje spoke happily, you didn't know if it was out of her wanting to experiment on you or she was always this happy but whatever it was you didn’t dare say another word.

The group had dispersed back into the abandoned building. Levi looked at you with a soft look, “let me walk you home.”

You nod, as he puts his hand out, taking it you smile at him. It was soft and Levi had thought it to be the last one he’d get from you. “We intend to go home afterwards.”

“Oh…” You trail off.

“If you really have nobody than you could come with us?” Your eyes light up at the sound of his words, he was wary of your acceptance, wary that his confession was all for nothing.

“Really? You’d want me to come with you.”

He looked up into the dark sky, home had been a faraway place. But in this moment with you he felt at home, after the losses he’d experienced, he knew he had met someone special. He had to keep you by his side even if his prior words were to keep you safe, he could keep you safe in Paradis. “Levi, I don't have anybody here.”

He doesn't question it, his grip tightening, taking you to your house, he had spent countless times dropping you home. But this time, the walk seemed different, the questions running through his head, “why?”

“Why what?” You stepped closer to your house door, the last time you’d see it in its glory before the destruction of tomorrow occurred.

He looked at you, “why are you helping us?”

“You…” You trail off, opening the door as you walk inside, Levi following and shutting the door behind him. He had never seen the inside of your place, the photo frames across the mantel piece, the books lying across the room. “I’d become a traitor just to be with you.”

Your words got him out of his gaze, he watched how you started around the place, it was never home. You knew what home was and he stood directly in front of you, he walked towards you, eyes becoming softer before he brought his hand to your cheek, “I’ll come and get you tomorrow morning.”

You nod his hand still on your cheek, he looks down at your lips watching you lick them before bringing your face to his own. His warm lips against your own, a softness coming from the kiss, before your hands went to his hair bringing him down to your height, making the kiss faster, filled with love and lust built up from the weeks. His hands moved to cup your face, his tongue gliding across your tongue, the sounds of your moans filled the room. His body was comfortable, was home and you were never going to let that go.

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early2000smovieimagines · 4 years ago

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Meeting and Dating Donnie Darko

(Not my gif)(Requested by @teddansonwannabe16 )

(Also, if there’s ever something in these headcanons that you’d like me to write more about; especially in the meeting part, just let me know!)

- You and Donnie sort of met when you were younger but you were never close. You’d lived in the same area of town and waited at the same bus stop every morning but you’d never actually had a full conversation with the boy nor hung out together.

- Every once in a while, you’d encounter each other. Maybe he’d tell you your backpack was open or where a certain class is, maybe you’d share an umbrella or he’d tell his friends to leave you alone; or maybe you’d share an awkward wave as you passed each other on the street. Other than that, there was nothing between you.

- That being said, the two of you still liked each other, even if the other person wasn’t aware of it. Your teenage crushes were also; probably, part of the reason the two of you didn’t speak all that much; both of you being too shy and awkward to speak to the other.

- It was seemingly completely out of the blue that he chose to ask you out. You’d both ended up being alone at the bus stop that day, his sister and her friends going to dance practice early in the morning, his friends skipping class, and Cherita coming down with the flu.

- The two of you stood side by side awkwardly, him glancing over at you a few times before he suddenly blurted out the question of “do you wanna go with me”, making you look over at him in surprise.

- It took you a few moments to respond, wondering if you’d heard him correctly or if there was someone behind you you hadn’t noticed, but after he began to ramble, you finally realized it really was you he was talking to. So you interrupted his babbling and told him that you’d like to.

- The bus pulled up as he smiled and the two of you got on, him sitting beside you and watching you as you looked out the window happily.

- He walked you to class that day, and the next day, and the day after that, and ...I think you get the picture.

- The two of you didn’t quite have a first date, you sort of just started hanging out together a lot. You’d walk home together or hang out at one of your houses; maybe in the fields by Grandma Deaths house. It wasn’t until a few weeks after you became an item that you actually went out and watched a movie together which you suppose could be considered your first “date”.

- You share your first kiss a few weeks after he asked you out as well. Donnie didn’t want to rush you; and he wasn’t sure of how to do it himself, so he just waited until he couldn’t take it anymore.

- You were hanging out and he was accidentally only half listening to what you were saying up until he finally blurted out that you’ve “been seeing each other for a while”.

- When you replied with a questioning “yeah?”, he grew more nervous and struggled to find what he thought was the right way to say what he wanted to say. That was, until you asked if he wanted to kiss you.

- Instead of replying, he merely closed his eyes, leaned in and connected your lips. You fought back a smile as you wound your arms around his neck, feeling his hands move down to your waist.

- And just like that, Donnie Darko would never be able to let you go again.

- Donnie sort of just pays no mind to most people so if you let him kiss or touch you in public, he will. Plus, as demented as he can be, he does keep things socially acceptable and innocent so you don’t have to worry about that.

- Handholding. There’s just something so comforting and nice about the feeling of another living thing holding and squeezing him back.

- Random affectionate touches.

- Long and tight hugs.

- Once in a while, he has this inexplicable need to feel you in some way. To kiss you, touch you, be touched by you. You’re what helps him forget about the world and all that's wrong with it. Your warmth, your touch, your lips; they’re what makes his messed up life worth living.

- Gentle kisses on the cheek and forehead.

- Soft kisses.

- Intense kisses. Being able to kiss you until he can’t breathe is quite therapeutic for him.

- Long and slow paced makeout sessions. He could genuinely kiss you for hours.

- He likes when you rest your head on his shoulder or otherwise be absentmindedly affectionate and comfortable with him. It just reassures him that you actually love and want to be with him; and it just feels nice.

- He may have trouble initiating it when you first start dating but he actually really likes cuddling. He tends to like to press his face into your neck or chest and wrap his arms around you, especially when his days been sort of shitty. That being said, pretty much any position is fine by him.

- He sorta likes when you nap on or around him, it makes him feel trusted or like he’s your protector or something. He also gets to memorize your features without feeling awkward about looking at you.

- Time is a social construct. If you want to see him or if he wants to see you, the fact that it’s three a.m. is irrelevant. He’ll let you in or sneak you in somehow; you’ve both probably learned how to climb in through each other’s windows.

- Nighttime walks.

- Stargazing.

- Listening to him read, or him asking you to read to him.

- Donnie being Donnie, he usually just calls you by your name rather than a nickname or pet name. There’s something about them that makes him feel awkward; they just seem so strange coming out of his own mouth.

- Looking at his writing and paintings. He’ll sometimes give some of them to you as little gifts.

- He once just really wanted to try to do your makeup and honestly, he did a really good job. Every once in a while, he’ll ask to do it again and hey, who are you to turn down a free makeover.

- Running errands together. If Donnie really wants to hang out with you; which he often does, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’ll tag along no matter how boring.

- Donnie isn’t one for extravagant dates and you probably aren’t either so the two of you just sort of hang out together. You’ll do puzzles, ride your bikes, jump on trampolines, etc; all just random fun things.

- Television dates. You swear he must have watched every cartoon from premier to end a dozen times with some of the knowledge he has of them. He’ll go on some long explanation after you express confusion about something and then finish with a shy chuckle and a “I watch a lot of tv”.

- Shooting bottles with him or watching him shoot them while sitting on the couch in the field.

- Sneaking into abandoned buildings. The two of you like to go exploring.

- Always being project partners and sitting together at assemblies, lunch, or in class.

- Always having help with your homework or other assignments. Donnie usually just offers up answers without even thinking about it.

- The good kind of teasing comments. Things that’ll snap you out of your funk or start a conversation/make you smile.

- Sharing headphones or just sharing different music with each other.

- Long, somewhat rambling conversations. He just has a lot to say about a lot of things.

- Existential debates.

- Letting him rant to you. He gets really worked up over certain things that most people don’t care about so occasionally you’ll just have to sit him down and calm him instead of letting him blow a blood vessel.

- Listening to the stories of when he was “unruly”. He’ll admit some slightly troubling things and then try to assure you that he’s “better now” so that you don’t think he’s crazy; especially when you first start dating.

- Donnie's view of the world is sort of skewed but even if it wasn’t, he would never judge you, especially because you never judge him. It doesn’t matter what it is, he’ll always stand by you because he cares about and “gets” you.

- He sometimes likes to pretend to be your therapist. It’s meant to be humorous most of the time but occasionally, when you’re upset, he’ll try to see if it actually works or could help you in any way.

- He always seems to understand you, no matter what nonsense you may be saying. No one else will ever know exactly what you mean like he does.

- Watching him closely when he begins to act sort of strange. You notice that something isn’t right but you don’t know if it’s your place to ask or if you even should.

- He may or may not confide in you when Frank shows up; it depends on how long you’ve been together and the kind of person you are.

- While he may not talk about it, he’ll want to spend as much time with you as he can for some seemingly inexplicable reason.

- If Donnie can help it, he’ll never tell you or make it obvious when he’s jealous so you may never truly know when he is. But, when he’s sitting alone at night, his mind will drift back to what may or may not have happened and he’ll feel his chest begin tighten while a million different thoughts race through his head.

- Donnie isn’t extremely protective but he does look out for you. He’ll tell people to leave you alone, guide you away from something, take something from your hands, or help you down from a large step, etc. Whenever something happens, he’s only ever really worried about whether or not you’re okay.

- You see, if Donnie wants to have an argument about something, you’re gonna have it. That being said, you don’t fight a ton but when you do, he tries to remain fairly calm until he can’t help but get heated; usually when you just won’t listen to him or try to understand or just won’t explain what you’re mad about.

- He’s miserable when you’re in that post fight funk although he may try to convince himself; and succeed, that he’s angry. He’ll mope around and probably tell his therapist about it it. You’ll have to come to him when you’re ready, at least if you gave him the silent treatment since he’ll stop trying to approach you after a while and just assume you hate him now.

- That being said, there will be instances where he’ll just not leave you alone until you talk to him, kind of like a psycho ex would. I’m sorry but Donnie is still Donnie and not completely mentally well.

- There’s not too many I love you’s in your relationship but when there is one, it’s emotion filled and meaningful. He really wants you to know and understand how much he cares about you; especially if he’s saying it after somethings happened to him.

- Well your actually future together is sort of doomed from the start but the future he wanted was one where the two of you were together and neither of you were alone.

#donnie darko imagine #donnie darko headcanons #donnie darko headcanon #donnie darko imagines #early 2000s movie imagine #early 2000s imagine #early 2000s movie headcanons #early 2000s movie headcanon #2000s movie imagine #2000s movie headcanons #2000s movie headcanon

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krispytidalwavesheep · 4 years ago

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Hi, if you are still in the writing mood could I ask for Zelda Spellman x fem!reader that's sweet and fluffy, because Zelda deserves happiness, please? Thank you!!!

Sorry it took me so long, I had a few personal problems to deal with, and online classes were a right bitch. I hope you like what I made of this prompt! I deleted everything I had written so far halfway through and started all over again, and hope that it is what you imagined! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were in love with Zelda Spellman. The sad thing about that, she wasn't in love with you. You have been friends for almost a century, best friends even, since you were the one constant in her life. No matter what happened, you were always there. You were always by her side, through that whole Blackwood ordeal, when she was with Marie, no matter what, no matter your feelings, you were always right by her side. And you always picked up the pieces, just like you were now. Zelda called you late one night, sobbing uncontrollably, saying something about Marie being gone. It took you just about five seconds to hang up and teleport right into her bedroom, where she was crying on her bed.

“Hey...” you just mumbled as you sat down next to her, but you were quite shocked when Zelda launched herself directly into your arms, crying even harder than before. You were hurting with her, biting back your own tears at seeing her so devastated. Yet, you didn't say anything at all, you just pulled her closer and started to stroke her back gently, waiting for her to calm down.

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

“Why does everyone leave me?” Zelda asked instead and your heart broke all over for her again.

“I'm still here, or am I not?” you asked gently and hugged her a bit tighter. Zelda froze and gently pulled herself out of your embrace to look at you. You could see the gears in her head turning and suddenly, you were scared. You hid your feelings for so long, did she finally realize?

“You...You are,” Zelda said dumbfounded and continued staring at you. Your heart started to pound in your chest and you were pretty sure she could hear it.

“But...why? Everyone leaves... why do you stay?” Zelda asked the one million dollar question and now it was your turn to freeze.

“I- Listen, Zelda, I don't think this is the right time...” you sigh and looked down at your lap. You couldn't confess to her right now, even though the urge was so strong. She was in love with Marie, and she just left, you couldn't tell her about your feelings. It wouldn't be fair. On the other hand... Maybe your confession would prove to her that you would never leave her. Ever.

Gentle hands grasped your head and forced you to look into Zelda's eyes. They were still wet with tears, but oh so beautiful and you were captivated again, staring at her, without hiding anything.

“I could never leave you. Not in a million years. To me, you are... just everything. I know this is not the right time, with all that's going on and stuff, but... I am in love with you. Have been for the past fifty years, actually. I', sorry that I confess now after Marie just left but... I am not strong enough to keep it from you any longer,” you said and tears started gathering in your eyes. You wanted to look away, to run, but you couldn't. First, Zelda still held your face in her hands, and second, you would betray everything you just said if you ran away now.

“I don't know what to say y/n,” Zelda whispered, but the hold on your face tightened and there was a fondness in her eyes you have never seen before. You didn't dare hope.

“You don't have to say anything. I never thought you would have the same feelings for me, and that's okay. I can take it. I took it for the last fifty years, and your friendship is more important than anything. I wanna be by your side, even if we are just friends because you are too important to me. I never want to lose you,” you say gently and looked back into her eyes, letting all your walls down to show her that you were brutally honest with everything you said. She was crying again and that was not supposed to happen. You were here to make her feel better, not worse.

“I'm sorry for dumping that on you. I can understand if you want me to leave,” you whispered, even though leaving was far from your mind. Something was shifting, and you wanted to know where exactly you stood with Zelda now.

“And lose the one good thing that ever happened to me? Stay, please, just give me a moment to sort my thoughts,” Zelda said and leaned her forehead on your shoulder. Was that a good sign, you wondered. It could have been worse, you decided and gently took Zelda's hands in yours.

“I never thought that you could love me, to be honest,” Zelda said after a while and your heart started to pound again.

“Are you serious? What isn't there to love about you? You are so strong, brave, caring, and beautiful. Like a phoenix, you rise from the ashes every time something bad happened, to you or the people close to you, stronger than before. You have your moods, sure, but even those are kind of adorable sometimes. The way you smile when Sabrina does something that makes you proud, or your smile in general. I would fight armies just to see you smile. It's so cheesy and disgustingly sweet, I know, but... you are just everything to me. And Blackwood and Marie didn't deserve you. They didn't cherish you the way you should be cherished. If you could just see yourself with my eyes you would know that there was simply no other way, but to love you. With my whole heart. I've seen you at your worst and I've seen you at your best and all the in-between, and I fell in love with every part of you all over again. Call me a sap, or disgusting, or whatever, but you are so much more than you think you are and what others made you feel. Fuck Marie for leaving you, if I were to have you at my side I would cherish you forever, because Zelda Spellman, you are a gift!” you said and by the time you were finished with your speech you were out of breath and Zelda was staring at you as if you'd grown a second head.

“I am sorry if I overwhelmed you,” you whispered, but you couldn't stop staring at her, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“No one ever said anything like that to me before,” Zelda said and if you didn't know it any better, you would say that she was rather shell-shocked.

“Oh, believe me, you have no idea how much I hate your past lovers for that,” you said heatedly and Zelda snorted at that.

“I love you too,” Zelda said simply and smiled. You gaped. What did she just say?!

“You-I-what?” you stammered and Zelda looked at you with such gentleness that all the butterflies in your stomach turned into a tornado of fluttering.

“You are an idiot. But you are my idiot. If you want to be that is,” Zelda said and buried her face in your neck. You were completely speechless. Was this really happening?

“But what about Marie?” you asked, afraid of the answer. But Zelda just took your face into her hands again and forced you to look into her eyes when she said “If I had known that we have a chance, I would have never gotten together with Marie. Or Blackwood for that matter. And now stop thinking and just kiss me already”

You just snorted at her demanding down and leaned forward gently, until your lips connected in the sweetest kiss you had ever experienced in your life. One of Zelda's hands wandered into your hair to pull you closer and you just grabbed her and pulled her into your lap. You were probably holding on a bit too tightly, but neither of you cared when Zelda moaned gently and you used the opportunity to deepen your kiss. Zelda's other hand wandered into your hair, gently tugging and now it was your turn to moan. Your tongues battled for dominance and surprisingly you won, smirking into the kiss until you had to come up for air.

“I always knew you were a bottom,” you grinned teasingly and buried your face into Zelda's neck, kissing it softly.

“Shut up and continue what you are doing. I don't want to waste another second with you,” Zelda moaned and threw her head back so that you had more room to continue your ministrations.

“So demanding my love,” you chuckle and gently bit down to suck a small, barely-there mark into her skin. You couldn't quite believe that this was happening, but you enjoyed every second of it.

“I'll never let you go now, my darling Zelda,” you whisper into her ear and Zelda just moaned, demanding more. You didn't know how far you would take it today, but you weren't overly concerned with time right now. After all, you were witches, and now you had all the time in the world to finally be together...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prompts are still open, although it may take sometime for me to finish. I pinned the post where I asked for prompts on my page, so if you want anything written, please check it out!

#Zelda Spellman x Reader #'Zelda Spellman Imagine #Caos #Zelda Spellman #fluff

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itsonlystrange · 4 years ago

Text

I’d like to point out that the “it’s all just a bunch of coincidence” argument is very poor. People say that about anything they don’t like. If we’re using this argument then I could say that everytime Mileven accidentally held hands or touched or any of that lovey dovey stuff that the Mileven fandom goes nuts over is a coincidence, but I have 0 evidence that it’s a coincidence, I’m just saying it is because that’s how I, a biased person on the side of byler, sees it. And I love the Milevens that actually respect us, it’s just the toxic ones that stomp on us or rain on our parade that irritate me.

So I ask skeptical Milevens, why do you think it’s all a coincidence? Because the Duffers have gone on record multiple times saying that nothing in their show is a coincidence, so it’s odd of you to assume that it is, when that goes against everything the duffers have said.

I see a lot of people claim that all of Bylers very romantic coded scenes are just coincidences with out any real evidence solely because they want them to be coincidences.

Reminder that the duffers had to write, revise, have Noah and Finn read at the table read, rehearse, and then film all of Bylers romantic coded scenes. And do you seriously believe that nobody stepped up and said, “Hey, I think some people will start to ship this if you make your two male characters hold hands and look at each others lips.” Like on paper, that sounds romantic. And on screen, it looks romantic too! If the duffers didn’t want byler to be shown as romantic they wouldn’t have put all of that effort into Mike and Will’s romanticly coded scenes in season two. And sure, one could say they were oblivious and didn’t realize that this relationship could be seen as anything more than romantic and that one of their 100 other writers and revisors and producers didn’t step up and say “Is this really what we want to be conveying in this show when they’re just supposed to be friends?” (Which I doubt. The duffers and everyone else on the writing crew knew exactly what they were implying. And if the duffers themselves didn’t, I HIGHLY doubt that someone didn’t step up and point out how romantic some of these scenes are, especially considering multiple of their writers are apart of the lgbtq community which makes it highly more likely that someone would have realized as I’m sure their gay senses are much stronger than those of the cishet writers on the squad. ) However, byler kind of blew up after season two, so if ST didn’t mean for Mike and Will’s relationship to be seen as more than platonic, then why did they continue doing it in season three? And the thing is, we’re not “delusional” for thinking this. Hundreds of thousands of millions of people have pointed this out across all platforms. It stops being a problem with us and “seeing what we want to see” when millions of people see the same, and it becomes the writers problem for even implying that in the first place.

Here’s an example: take Lucas and Dustin. Sure, there are definitely people out there that think or head canon as either as gay, but not nearly as big of a community as the Byler community. The reason is: Lucas and Dustin don’t have queer coding. They haven’t been painted the same way as Mike and Will’s relationship has. Or Jonathan, yeah, people may head canon as him as gay, or even think he actually is, but he doesn’t have any evidence that really points up to the fact that he is, or that he could be.

The duffers aren’t stupid. They wouldn’t have written byler this way if they didn’t want people shipping it. The official ST writer account has acknowledged byler multiple times, before st3 even started filming. They knew what they were doing. If their goal was to portray Mike and Will as a simple platonic friendship, and that all of their queer coded scenes in st2 were just a coincidence, why would they continue to do it in season 3? Queer baiting is real, yes. However like I said before, the st writing team has a lot of queer and lgbtq+ members themselves, not sure why they would want to queer bait when they’re gay/lesbian/bisexual themselves.

The truth is, byler would have never made it this far if it wasn’t meant to be shipped and portrayed like more of a romantic relationship than a platonic one. They would have shut it down awhile ago. They wouldn’t be so ominous about it. Noah and Finn wouldn’t constantly dodge questions about it unless they legally weren’t allowed to answer them. The duffers wouldn’t have been so vague in the ending of season 3 or in any interviews regarding season 3 about byler. Mike and Will wouldn’t have gotten a whole segment in the official ST book, they wouldn’t have held hands! Seriously! They held hands. Did someone seriously not point out how non platonic that was?———

And use the excuse all you want, “Will was just scared. That’s why Mike held his hand.” Okay, well Max and Lucas held hands when they were both scared in the exact same episode but I guess that doesn’t count because they’re a boy and a girl and Mike and Will are two boys. ———-And it’s funny because you KNOW that if Mike promised to go crazy together with El, that would he in every Milevens Instagram bio, it’d be on merchandise, it’d be everywhere. If Mike said meeting El was the best thing he’s ever done, people would be going bat shit crazy over how romantic that is and how they’re so in love. If Mike and El fought and he ran out in the middle of the rain looking for her when he couldn’t even apologize to his real girlfriend who dumped him just hours prior, people would say that Mike was in love with El and how much he cares about her yadda yadda. But that’s the thing. It’s two boys, so apparently it has to be platonic. Because that’s just how it works in their cishet minds. ——I’d like to see a better argument then “it was all a coincidence.” Because that’s not valid. Why? Why do you think it’s all a coincidence? It’s all just fake? Please. Elaborate. Because if these romantic scenes involved Mike and El instead of Mike and Will, then they’d see. Because they didn’t have Finn and Noah rehearse all these romantic coded scenes multiple times for nothing. They literally wrote, revised, edited, rehearsed, and filmed ALL of these scenes and still went through with it. And even in season three when people really started shipping byler, they STILL directed Finn and Noah to look at eachothers lips. They still filmed the rain fight. KNOWING byler shippers existed and KNOWING this would only heighten the amount of byler shippers there are.

The duffers aren’t stupid. This isn’t a surface level show. Everything they do is intentional, they’ve said it themselves. And yes, I agree that some byler proof COULD just be apophenia, but stuff like this? Crazy together? Looking at eachothers lips? Holding hands? I’m the only one that cares about Will? Mike keeping his eyes open in the final Mileven kiss, those aren’t small little things. You’re telling me that they couldn’t find another take for that final Mileven kiss? No. Finn kept his eyes open because he was directed to do so. The duffers are writers and directors for a reason. They went to school for this. So please, I’d like to see some actual argument against byler other than “they said they loved eachother!” “It’s all a coincidence!” I’d like to see people actually counter my arguments with actual evidence. Not just “Finn says they’re in love” not just “Millie ships it!” Because interviews are not evidence. They’re instructed to create hype for the show. If David can lie about hopper being dead, Finn and Millie can lie about Mileven being in love. I don’t want the argument of “it’s been built up for 3 seasons so they won’t destroy it now.” Stancy was built up for 2 seasons and see how that turned out. And Mileven fell more in season three than it went up.

Anyways,, if you’re a polite Mileven, this isn’t for you. I love you with my whole heart. If you’re just vibing, I love you. Ship what you want to ship! Feel free to counter my argument! However, If you’re someone who calls us “delusional”, leave. The doors right there. The cast has talked about how much they hate the ship wars in our fandom, so if you’re just gonna say how stupid we are, don’t let the door hit you on the way out:)

Sorry for long post lol. Love you all

#stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #st4 #byler is endgame

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halpertstuna · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do 8 and 10 on the prompt list with JJ?

A/N: i’m so sorry it took me so long to answer, i’ve been pretty occupied lately and so i didn’t really have time to write and when i did it was for ‘someone to stay’, anyway, here it is i hope you’ll like it🥺

and PLEASE don’t hesitate to send me requests, questions, messages whatever you want. i would love to make friends and mutuals on this platform plus i love feedback and would really like to hear your opinions(:

also, this turned out way longer than i intended it to be, it was supposed to be a blurb but i guess i’m just gonna turn it into a whole ass imagine cause why not

-> prompt list <-

word count: 1,899 (oops... guess i got a bit carried away)

prompts: “i’m not jealous!”, “you’re hot when you’re mad”

pairing: jj x kook!reader

warnings: a pretty heated make out sesh, jealousy?, platonic Kie, Pope and John B. oh and typos probably.

btw, i was kinda in a rush to post this so please forgive me if it’s not that good, i’m too lazy to edit this again (and this is the first time i wrote something that’s kinda smutty? i mean this isn’t really smut but you get my point. don’t know how i feel about it), anyways, if you’ve made it this far in my insanely long intro congrats! enjoy <3

-> masterlist <-

(gif credit: @anakin-skywalker )

—

It’s been almost two years since you started attending the kook academy, almost two years since you became one of the pogues.

On your first day there you met a brown haired hippie chick named Kiara. The two of you had chemistry together and were paired by your teacher to be lab partners.

On your first encounter you didn’t really talk, and on the following couple of lessons it developed to only small talk and warm smiles if you saw each other in the hallway.

Kiara didn’t like kooks, even though technically she kind of was one.

Judging by the way you dressed and the people you surrounded yourself, she didn’t think you were really the type of person she’d get along with.

But when the two of you got assigned to do a project together, you instantly proved her wrong.

You met up with her at the wreck, the two of you talked about the project then yourselves and bonded almost immediately.

You revealed that you actually hated the people you usually associated with, thinking they were all fake, stuck up snobs with their heads way too far up their asses, and the only reason you hung out with them was your parents.

You turned out to be really reckless and funny which she wasn’t expecting at all, but she liked, it kind of reminded her of someone, her best friend, JJ.

She was quick to introduce you to the rest of the pogues and they welcomed you with open arms into their group. You instantly befriended them and vice versa.

Just as Kie suspected, you got along extra well with one particular blond.

The two of you had a lot in common; you were both hot headed and impulsive which often got you into trouble. You two were pretty competitive, always challenging one another.

You being so similar was the reason you got along so well, but it was also the reason you fought a lot, neither of you ever willing to admit you’re wrong or be the first one to apologize, but you couldn’t stay away from each other for too long. The sexual tension between you two could be cut with a knife.

Hungry glances, longing touches, needy desires that were transparent on both your faces.

Everyone on the island could see it but you. You were both so terribly oblivious.

You tried treating him like the rest of the pogues, you pushed your feelings for him to the back of your mind, thinking he was just being friendly, knowing he was a flirt, and for almost two years, it worked.

But seeing him flirt with Harleen tonight was literal torture.

Harleen was your neighbour and former best friend. A tall, tan brunette you hated with all of your heart.

The two of you have known each other since birth, you were practically inseparable, but as you grew up you noticed she always wanted what was yours, and she always did whatever it took in order to gain it. Whether it was the new shoes you got for your birthday which she bought herself the following day, or the guy you told her you liked in middle school the week prior to her dating him.

With time your friendship grew toxic and you felt like she was bad for you, constantly bringing you down and never caring.

So you decided to defriend her and ever since that moment you despised each other.

You were sat on a log beside Kie at a kegger, Pope next to her as they argued about god knows what. You tuned them out, far too focused on each and every one of JJ’s actions, watching as he whispered in her ear.

He probably said something funny since she started laughing, leaning forward and grasping his bicep for balance, which made your blood boil, you felt like history was repeating itself.

The grip on your red solo cup tightened, you stared and it seemed as if lasers were about to shoot out of your eyes and burn her pretty face off, but you diverted your gaze down to your hand, jumping up slightly when you felt a cool sticky liquid on your fingers, noticing you accidentally created a hole in your cup of beer with your milky white painted nails.

“Wow, what did the poor cup ever do to you?” Pope joked, his and Kie’s attention averted to you the second they heard a pop coming from your direction.

“Huh? Oh, well it didn’t tell me how pretty I look tonight, take that as warning sign” you trailed, trying not to look suspicious, “are you sure it isn’t because JJ told that to the girl beside him instead of you” she implied winking, causing Pope to cackle with laughter.

“What was that?” You asked rhetorically trying to act intimidating, “oh nothing” she gave you an innocent look.

“Anyways... i’m gonna go get a new drink” you swiftly stood up and started walking until you made out John B. from afar who was stood by the keg.

“Refill?” He questions once he spotted you making your way towards him.

You nodded “I accidentally poked mine” you admitted lifting the ripped cup in your hand and pursing your lips as you came to a stop beside him.

As he poured you a new cup of beer with the tap head connected to the keg by a tube, you searched the crowd with your eyes and focused your attention on JJ again.

You’ve seen him flirt with a countless amount of chicks before - kooks and torouns mainly, but none of those times pissed you off os much as seeing him flirt with Harleen did.

I mean he probably didn’t even like you back, so why where you so pissed? It wasn’t different from any other time, except that this was Harleen. She was a bitch. But he’d probably catch on quickly, right?

He placed his hands on her waist and you clenched your jaw at the sight grinding your teeth, you were irritated by the whole situation.

John B. noticed, a sly smile spreading slowly across his face.

“Hey, want some peanut butter with that jelly?” You turned to face him, a dumbfounded look on your face, “what are you talking about?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re obviously jealous”, he chuckled at the bewildered look on your face and you felt your cheeks heat up. “am not!” You denied huffing.

“Tell that to the vein popping out of your forehead” he teased.

You gasped and jabbed his chest playfully with your elbow, you mumbled a “shut up” then channeled your attention back to the two.

Her hands were rested on his chest, like that wasn’t enough already to send you off the edge. But when he pecked her cheek you lost it.

Abruptly you stormed off from where you were stood, John B. shouted from behind you “where are you going?“ but you ignored him.

When you approached JJ and Harleen you clutched onto his wrist dragging him away from her towards the chateau, ignoring both her and his protests. You led him inside then turned around to face him.

“Hey! What did you do that for? It was going really good for me! This better be an emergency” he sneered.

“Are you fucking serious? Out of all the people in the party you chose to hit on Harleen?” You scoffed.

“What’s the problem with that?” JJ was clueless, he knew nothing about your and Harleen’s rivalry. You never told any of the pogues, well except for Kie but she didn’t recognise her as the one flirting with JJ.

“The problem is Harleen hates my guts and the other way around. We used to be best friends but she became toxic, trying to take everything that I had and I’m not going down that road again JJ”

Your words confounded JJ, what did you care if she flirted with him? It wasn’t like he was yours, although he really wanted to be.

Does you caring about whether they end up together or not mean you wanted to be his too?

Then he noticed what emotion your eyes held, he’d never seen it before on your face, but he immediately recognised it.

“Wait.. are you jealous?” He questioned, the corners of his lips perking up into a smirk when he noticed the furious look on your face from his revolution.

“I’m not jealous! Would everyone please stop saying that?! I’m mad ok?!” You defend.

“Ok! Ok!” He surrendered lifting his hands up in the air “but just know, you’re hot when your mad”. Your mouth slightly agape as you weren’t able to form words to deny, far too transfixed under the fact he directly called you hot.

He started walking towards you slowly, you didn’t want to cave, to admit you have fallen for his charms, so you backed up until you felt your back gently hit the wall. Chest rising and falling quicker as your breathing started getting heavier and your heart beat faster.

The second his hand landed on your waist you felt a million butterflies erupt in your stomach, he tenderly stroked the exposed skin of your v line between your low cut shorts and crop top. You felt as if the skin under his finger was being set on fire.

He brought his other hand to rest beside your head on the wall, he leaned in, inches away from your face. His breath mingled with yours, fanning your lips, it smelled of cheap beer and weed.

He slowly moved to your ear and extolled in a low voice “I mean, really hot”, his warm breath sent shivers down your spine.

He left a sloppy, open mouthed kiss on the skin under your earlobe and you could’ve sworn you were seeing stars.

When he detached his lips you bit down on yours holding in a whimper at the loss of contact as he brought his face back to yours.

His blue orbs gazed into yours, they seemed darker than usual, lustful.

He waisted no more time and captured your lips with his. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled on the edges of his hair deepening the kiss. As your tongues fought for dominance, he brought his other hand to your ass and squeezed it causing you to moan, he took the chance and slipped his tongue in.

you tugged on the hem of his shirt and he got the message. He separated his lips from yours and within less then a second, practically tore it of his body and discarded it on the floor. The two of you were panting at this point, completely out of air but you didn’t care. Breathless, you reattached your lips to his, desperate to taste him again.

You caressed his much bigger length with your petite hand, signalling you wanted more and he groaned into the kiss.

“Up” he demanded mumbling agains your lips. You jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, he grabbed your thighs and without breaking the kiss led you into the spare room.

Almost two years of yearning and craving dissolved in that night at the chateau, and to think it happened because of Harleen.

As much of a bitch as she was, you did owe her that.

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raleighcarrera · 4 years ago

Text

falling

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

a little while ago i posted about the idea of a soulmate au where the first words raleigh & cadence say to each other are tattooed on them their whole lives, and this... is that. (for @platinumweekend ❤️)

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @emomoustache ; @natesewell ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @brycemaloliver ; @grigori-girl ; @dulceghernandez ; @bitchloveskcbaseball ; @withbeautyandrage

~10.5k words | T

the words appear in looping script on his thirteenth birthday, right on time. they curve along the inside of his bicep, innocently punctuated. what’s your name?

“you got lucky,” one of his older cousins tells him, later, when everyone in his family comes by for cake and to ooh and aah over his new tattoo, “you’ll be able to hide that with a shirt or a jacket easily.”

but raleigh sleeps shirtless every night for the next two years, even when it’s cold, so that the words are the last thing he sees with his head pillowed on his arm before he falls asleep, dreaming of the nameless, faceless person who will one day say them, wondering what their voice might sound like when they do.

ii.

she has a more difficult go of it.

being a thirteen year old girl would be miserable enough without the added pressure of the words that practically feel broadcast across her forehead, most of the time. everyone at school teases her constantly and ruthlessly: say something funny, cadence. go on. tell us a joke!

so it’s difficult not to resent the two words scrawled lazily across her collarbone and the person attached to them, especially in the mornings before school when she’s angrily rearranging her neckline and jewelry in the mirror while the bus idles outside.

very funny. she isn’t, really. she’s plenty of things -- determined and passionate and sensitive, definitely, but... no one’s ever found her particularly funny, before.

and no one seems to understand just how much the expectation of having to be funny, one day, is weighing on her, not even her parents, when she finally works up the courage to squeak out, “but how am i supposed to know what i should say?”

her mom laughs indulgently, like she’s already said something funny. her stomach sinks further.

“oh, sweetheart,” she tells her, “don’t worry, it won’t matter. you just will.”

iii.

people ask him about it. a lot.

it gets difficult to keep it a secret as things change around him, but raleigh’s careful to avoid slip-ups and paparazzi photos and he doesn’t say a word about it in interviews, even when he’s asked directly. he’s never seen without short sleeves on, at the very least, and he doesn’t even tell blair and cameron about it.

he sort of wishes he had, though, because as his life turns upside down and he adapts to a new country with a new set of rules and an industry that makes his head spin most of the time it starts to feel more and more confusing, those three words -- what’s your name?

everywhere he goes, thousands of girls blocking the street scream it at him. so how is it possible that whoever’s waiting to meet him doesn’t already know it?

and what does that mean for how the rest of his life is going to turn out?

what if all of this -- the fame and the money and the notoriety -- is fleeting, and he’s only a few short years from being completely washed up and irrelevant? what if the day he’s meant to meet his person is so far away that he’ll be completely out of the spotlight, by then, with sunset skatepark playing reunion tours and him having spent most of his life alone?

it’s a lot of pressure, for someone who’s already working their way through such a serious adjustment, and most of the time it’s dizzying, thinking about the fact that there’s someone out there who’s supposed to be perfect for him, when everyone he meets seems determined to forget every word they know other than yes, so they can suck up to him as much as possible.

his teenage years fly by in a whirlwind of mistakes and regrets. there’s things he would’ve never dreamed would come his way, like world tours and more money than he can count and so many girls who know everything about him before they even sit down to dinner, but there’s more than that, too.

there’s all the ways the industry weakens his trust until it’s gone, all the people who try to use him for what he can do for them, all the times he stumbles until he finally learns to distance himself by cultivating a persona, by leaning into all the expectations of raleigh carrera and creating something so outlandish it doesn’t hurt as much when disaster follows him around because it’s supposed to.

he watches everything that surrounds him turn fake and plastic and puts his energy only into his music, coasting on the rest. the days are less exciting than when he first joined the band at fifteen; he’s a solo artist, now, and most of the time, he’s just trying to get through.

but chaos continues to follow him and eventually his notoriety is inescapable. his first solo album is self-titled and he somehow manages to get a trademark on the word raleigh, as if the name is now more his than anything that ever belonged to the state of north carolina, and part of him sort of expects the words stamped on his arm to change, once he hits one-hundred million followers on his social channels.

they never do, though, and when he’s alone, and the veneer he’s built up for everyone else fades away, he can’t help but to be fascinated by this person who just wants an answer to the question no one else would ever dare ask him.

iv.

college isn’t exactly the fresh start she was hoping it’d be.

she was a loser in high school and things don’t get much better for her even now that she’s with ‘her people’ at a performing arts university she can barely afford, even with two part-time jobs.

shane is across the country at a proper state school with parties and a social life and lots of friends who aren’t her, and she’s failing her improv class, proving that she isn’t actually very funny at all.

boys continue to not notice her and patrons in bars continue to turn away from her one-woman performance, her old acoustic guitar the only constant in a life that feels utterly, unbelievably pointless, most of the time.

it’s like she’s drifting through the days, putting her time in at college in the hopes that it’ll fortify her for what’s next -- her big break, the discovery that’ll get her out of that shitty small town she’s been trying to escape her entire life. she writes hundreds of songs about how lost she feels and hates every single one, dreaming of a time when things might be different and she doesn’t have to second-guess every single one of her decisions.

she doesn’t have much of a love life and tries not to think about that, either.

the person on the other side of those two words stuck on her collarbone is probably looking for someone self-confident, who knows who they are and is comfortable with that. they’re probably expecting to meet someone who has their life together, who, at the very least, has a plan.

they’re probably not expecting a talentless nobody screwup like her, someone who tries as hard as she can yet never seems to make anything work.

things don’t turn around after graduation, either. sure, she manages to find an apartment in a building that’s nice enough and uses the last of her savings on the deposit and trying to furnish it, but it’s only a few weeks of trying and failing to secure a regular paying gig performing before she’s back at smoothie star again, begging for her old job back.

and there’s nothing that makes her feel more like a failure than working the same shifts she had in high school.

as she hums along to the radio on a random tuesday afternoon when the store is dead and there’s nothing to blend, she wonders what mr.-or-mrs. very funny would think if they walked in and saw her here -- twenty-three years old and flat broke, with a dead-end job and a one-bedroom apartment all she has to show for her very expensive and very useless bachelor’s degree.

that, and a notebook full of half-finished songs about relationships she could only ever dream about and an escape from the miserable small town she lives in that feels farther away with every day that passes.

she can’t imagine they’d be very impressed.

raleigh’s life gets monotonous very quickly. the music takes a backseat to the scandals and for a while there’s a predictable pattern of cause trouble, clean up image, rinse and repeat.

there are girls in between the cycles to help him pass the time. some he likes well enough and some he despises, but for the most part his management gives their recommendations and he agrees and makes awkward conversation for an hour or two over brunch until it’s time to go trash something again.

things get particularly bad after one minor cruise ship hijacking incident.

but in his defense, no one ever told him that breaking into the harbor and joy riding was a first-degree felony, worsened by the fact that he’d just so happened to crash the boat into the pier while he was trying to dock it.

at least he’d been sober.

though a monumental fuck up like this felt sort of inevitable; everyone who knew him probably figured it was only a matter of time before he went too far. how could he not when he was always chasing the next high?

still, the image rehab tour that follows is far from what he’d call enjoyable. he has to cut off all his hair and play nice at industry parties and waste time standing around being seen at charity events he winds up just cutting checks for instead of helping out at.

on top of the miserable community service comes the pr bullshit his team so loves -- dozens of tv appearances back-to-back where he’s herded around all day like cattle, in and out of green rooms with crappy coffee and bad catering.

he has no idea that showing up to be a judge on one in a million is going to change his life. hungover and running late, he barely even makes it to the taping of the semi-finals, slinking inside the concert hall in middle-of-nowhere, usa with a headache and some choice words for whoever thought this was the best way to clean up his image.

fortunately, raleigh manages to make his way inside virtually unnoticed. his phone is buzzing angrily in his pocket -- undoubtedly his manager trying to encourage him to hair and makeup or some other absurdity -- but he ignores it in favor of ducking back behind the line near the auditorium doors, only barely catching the last few words of some catty confrontation between two contestants as he goes.

as one of the girls stomps away, he sees the other’s shoulders slump from behind. “guess i’m not making any friends,” she mutters.

it’s clearly said to no one -- not even to herself, really -- yet for some reason, he can’t stop himself from responding. “where i come from, that’s a good thing.”

the girl’s shoulders straighten, but she still doesn’t turn around. “i’m not trying to succeed at the cost of others.”

raleigh smirks, leaning back against the wall beside his guitar case. “you do realize you’re at a competition show, right?”

“of course, but...” her hair ruffles with what sounds like a huff. she’s still not facing him, staring off at where the other girl she’d been talking to had run away. “that doesn’t mean i’m not rooting for everyone here to share their music with the world.”

“what a sweet sentiment,” raleigh drawls sarcastically, almost feeling a little bad for her and her naivety. this poor girl is going to be eaten alive. “it won’t last.”

her body tenses, her shoulders tightening again. he can almost see smoke start to pour from her ears before she spins suddenly on her heel to face him.

whatever sharp retort had been on the tip of her tongue gets swallowed with a blink as soon as their eyes meet. something like electricity crackles in the space between them, strengthening the invisible pull he’d felt when he first stopped behind her. instead, she only asks, “what’s your name?”

vi.

the man in front of her snorts. “very funny.”

a smile tugs at her lips. “very funny, that’s a weird name.” this is unlike her -- the quick comeback, the flirting. usually being face-to-face with a guy as good looking as the one talking to her now made her want to wither away and die, but something about the stranger standing before her sets her instantly at ease. “so, are you gonna tell me, or not?”

now it’s his turn to blink at her. a hand lifts to rub at his jaw. “huh. you really don’t know who i am, do you?”

cadence’s eyes narrow as she assess him. there is something vaguely familiar about that crooked grin, she’s sure of it.

at the very least, it’s an excuse to stare at him, and she does, moving her eyes slowly over the tattoos poking out over his jacket collar, the line of stubble on his sharp jaw, the glint of mischief in his eyes.

her helpless gaping is interrupted by a sudden shrill scream. “oh. my. god! is that raleigh carrera?!”

everything clicks at once. as a wild group of girls corner him, she realizes where she’s seen that smile before -- on just about every tabloid cover known to man, plastered all over convenience stores and the internet with headlines about his latest bender. in fact, she’s pretty sure he was just in the news for something similar -- crashing a yacht or something else ridiculous like that, something that only someone as rich as raleigh carrera could have accomplished.

then she realizes what he’d said to her, as soon as she’d turned to look him in the eyes. very funny.

her heart stops. all she can do is stare wide-eyed at him as he dispels the girls clamoring for a selfie, snapping back to the present when he waves one large hand in front of her face.

“sorry -- what?”

“i said, what’s your name? it only seems fair, now that you know mine, and all.”

“cadence,” she answers numbly, “i’m -- um, i’m used to your hair being longer.”

“cadence,” raleigh repeats, smiling at her, “so you do know who i am.”

“what do the magazines call you again? r&b’s time bomb? puerto rico’s hottest export? you’re kind of notorious.” she blinks at him, then admits, “i’ve heard your songs.”

“seen the tabloid covers too, eh?” the expression on his face suggests he’s almost proud of them.

this is surreal.

“didn’t you crash a yacht or something?” she asks, brain whirring into overdrive as she tries to process what’s happening. he doesn’t seem to have realized it yet, which gives her a moment to gather her thoughts, something that feels impossible when she can’t push the way he’d scoffed very funny out of her mind.

“or something. insurance paid out a couple million in property damage, but...” raleigh trails off, brow suddenly furrowing. he stares at her silently for a beat too long, then slowly turns a dull red. “hey, what’d you say earlier, again?”

cadence wets her dry lips, trying not to panic. stay calm, she silently coaches herself. raleigh carrera is not your long-awaited soulmate and you are not doing this in line to audition for one in a million. “i said -- what’s your name? and then you said...”

oh god, this is happening. her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she fidgets with the neckline of her top, tugging it to the side so raleigh can see the two words on her collarbone.

“very funny,” he mutters, “oh, jesus fucking christ. you can’t be serious.”

“me?” she demands, “you’re the one who --”

“next up,” calls a voice suddenly, cutting sharply through their argument, “contestant #9,276.”

her blood runs cold as she realizes that’s the number she’s wearing pinned to her shirt. she can feel herself start to sweat; how the fuck is she supposed to perform like this? she wants to throw up. why did this have to happen to her now? this was her shot -- her one fucking chance --

“hey, easy.” there’s suddenly two strong hands on either side of her shoulders, and she startles as raleigh stares at her from up close, closer than he was just a moment ago. “relax, okay? you’re gonna be fine. you’ve got this.”

“but --” she starts, then realizes her mind is racing too quickly to even articulate what she wants to say. she settles for shaking her head, eyes wide and panicked. “i can’t just -- oh my god, i’m going to throw up.”

“here,” raleigh directs, “take my guitar. prince gave it to me as a birthday present.”

prince?! she mouths hysterically to herself, as he flips the latch on his case open and pulls out the instrument. “how is this supposed to help me?”

“just trust me,” he says, giving her a gentle nudge towards the auditorium, “now go.”

she does, stumbling forward with the most expensive piece of equipment she’s ever held in her hands in her life alongside her, drawing in a deep breath as she makes her way onto the stage.

she can do this.

everything else will have to come after.

vii.

the thing is -- she’s talented. exceptionally so.

he can tell she’s a little nervous, but maybe that’s just because he’s used to looking out for that sort of thing; he could probably recognize it more easily than the average person would. it probably has nothing to do with who they are, how he notices the nuances in her body language...

her belt is impressive. her voice is stunning, clear and uniquely melodic. his guitar looks spectacular in her hands, and cadence plays it like she’s been practicing on it her entire life.

he tries his best to look nonchalant, feet kicked up onto the seat in front of him, but when she locks eyes with him from the stage he knows he hasn’t succeeded. raleigh’s breath catches, and he stares back at her, transfixed by the way her dainty hands cradle the neck of the guitar and strum the strings, how her lips purse around the long, emotional high note at the end of the song’s chorus.

she’s really very pretty.

he’d probably be lying to himself if he said it doesn’t make him a little bit jealous and uncomfortable, watching how she and avery fawn over each other when she’s finished. he’s probably a much better suited match for her, clean cut and pristine as he is.

he wonders if she’s disappointed that it’s him -- that it’s now, when she’s clearly on the cusp of something great all on her own.

it’s a lot to think about, and so he dips out of the auditorium before she finishes up, rushing outside with his heart pounding. it’s not until he’s halfway through the crumpled pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket that raleigh starts to relax even an iota, and of course that’s when the stage door he’d left propped swings open wide and cadence’s sneakers hit the asphalt beside his boots.

“uh, you can’t just leave me with this thing,” she says, apropos of nothing, and as he stares at her he realizes she’s talking about his guitar, which she’s holding in one hand like it’s a dead fish. “this costs more than everything in my apartment combined, i’m sure.”

he shakes his head at her, laughing as his fingers flick ash from the cigarette he’s holding. “no way -- you should keep it. you two looked perfect together.”

she hesitates, looking down at the instrument again. he can see in her eyes that she’s torn; it’s obvious she knows the right thing to do is to refuse a generous gift from a stranger, but she wants to keep it, and already his mind is racing as he considers what else he could give her that would excite her like that -- a private flight, a tour of his penthouse, a million dollars.

“are you sure?” cadence asks, without looking at him, and the hesitancy in her voice makes him realize how unsure she really is. she’s the one who’s wondering if he’s disappointed in her.

he licks his suddenly dry lips and drops what’s left of his cigarette to the ground, finding he doesn’t actually need the rest of it, anymore. “positive.”

viii.

they don’t actually get to spend a lot of time together, while she’s filming. she has to focus and it seems like she’s always busy, somehow -- not that she sees raleigh very often in the first place.

the days are spent rehearsing with avery and cramming in as much mentoring as possible, and when she can pull herself away from fiona’s lessons on image to get home at a reasonable hour she collapses into bed pretty much immediately, out like a light from the whirlwind of the day and hardly even aware enough to dream.

but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about him. she does, especially on the rare occasions she manages to catch a glimpse of raleigh walking around in the studio, or on one memorable evening she stays late in the auditorium to bang on the piano keys of the beautiful, enviable baby grand on set and startles to find him leaning in the doorway, watching her play.

it’s all a blur and wildly difficult to process; just when she thinks she has a grip on things she remembers the private moments she’s had with raleigh and her emotions tumble to pieces again as she lets the weight of the implications of what’s going on between them crush her completely.

one moment sticks out on her as being particularly worrisome, insofar as how it bodes for the rest of her life.

it feels like something significant from the moment raleigh offers to help her warm up; they’ve hardly had a moment alone together in days and she still has absolutely no idea how she’s supposed to talk to him or what she should say, but for some reason the conversation flows easily and she hardly has to think about the (no doubt incredibly stupid-sounding) words coming out of her mouth.

“you’re going to kill it,” raleigh says finally, once they’ve worked through all the exercises in his arsenal, “you really don’t need my help.”

never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine someone like him would say something like that to her. “you think?”

“i know it,” he answers confidently, shrugging his shoulders like it’s that simple. “and you should, too.”

there’s a moment of silence where they just stand there staring at each other, ignoring the restless murmuring of the crowd outside that’s waiting for him to slip into his seat at the judge’s table. she’s effortlessly lost in raleigh’s eyes, so fixated on the intensity of his gaze that she doesn’t realize he’s leaning in closer until it’s too late.

“insurance policy,” he mutters, before he kisses her, hands cupping her face gently.

for a split second, she stands frozen, shocked totally still. then, her brain reboots enough to propel her into motion, and cadence gets with the program enough to wind her arms around raleigh’s waist and pull him closer and kiss him back, until her heart’s lurched up into the throat she’d just been warming up, pounding relentlessly.

they make out until the roar of the crowd is deafening -- until it’s impossible not to acknowledge it any longer.

of course raleigh’s a life-ruiningly good kisser. why wouldn’t he be? why should any of this be easy?

it’s only a few simple touches, but raleigh’s mouth leaves her dizzy and lightheaded when she’s supposed to be concentrating on performing, and, independently of the way she’s blinking at him in stupid shock, cadence already knows she’ll never be able to kiss anyone else ever again without thinking about him.

“i have to get out there,” she gasps between desperate presses of their lips against each other, grasping ineffectively at his clothes while his fingers tug her hair out of shape.

“be late,” he suggests, “it always works for me.”

but she’s not him. she’s not like him -- they have nothing in common. they come from different worlds; they’re two completely opposite people.

and yet every minute with raleigh is like coming up for air after being underwater for years, like the knots of guilt and shame and awkward embarrassment she’s carried around for her entire life without understanding why she has them are slowly starting to undo themselves, unlaced by his careful fingers.

they make it out there. eventually.

before she knows it, confetti’s raining down from the ceiling and falling all over her, and she locks eyes with raleigh from across the room to find his lips pulled into a genuinely affectionate grin -- lips that she’d just kissed for the first time a fucking hour ago and, seriously, what is her life now -- his eyes bright and excited.

things just keep getting weirder and weirder, but the way they’re beaming at each other like idiots in a room full of thousands, broadcast on national television, too, makes her think things might be pretty great, too.

ix.

it sort of takes them a long time to getting around to talking about it -- the soulmate thing.

it’s not that he doesn’t try. he does, but she’s got a lot going on, these days: a big move and a new record deal and days filled with songwriting and nights out being seen. he’s still on his image cleanup tour, while she’s at it, so his fake smile stays fixed on his face throughout another boring week of restaurant openings and charity events and talkshow appearances before he finally gets the chance to spend some time with her again.

they text here and there, but nothing pans out until the stars align and they manage to slip out of the back door of a nightclub unnoticed together after a night of dancing too close for the comfort of her publicist while avery and the others cause a commotion at the front entrance to distract the press.

she goes back to his penthouse with him. he can’t remember the last time he brought a girl back to his apartment just to talk, and especially not one who spent the better part of the evening in a sparkly minidress grinding against him.

but here they are.

“so -- how’s the city treating you?” raleigh asks, pouring them both a drink he doesn’t want from the bar cart in the corner of the room for something to do with his hands.

cadence shrugs from where she’s perched on the edge of his sofa, tugging at the hem of her dress. “good, i guess. it’s honestly all kind of overwhelming.”

“yeah,” he nods, passing her one of the glasses in his hands and taking a seat on the ottoman in front of her, close enough to see her face in perfect clarity but still maintaining a distance that he hopes is respectful. “i know what you mean. when i first came here after joining sunset skatepark everything felt so... huge.”

“totally,” cadence answers quickly, nodding in a way that’s almost aggressive. “i mean, there’s so much pressure to deliver an album right away, but i want it to be perfect, and the studio is so different from, like, writing songs in my room at home, and i... i guess i feel kind of homesick, but -- not for my hometown. i hated that place.” there’s hesitancy in her gaze when she asks, “do you know what i mean?”

“yeah,” raleigh says again stupidly, because the truth is -- he knows exactly what she means. cadence has just articulated something he could never quite put into words better than he’d even thought the sentiments to himself. “it’s like... nostalgia for something you don’t even want.”

“exactly,” she breathes emphatically, and then they’re kissing again, and she’s in his lap on the ottoman and he definitely brought her here to talk, for sure, but is it really so terrible if they get a little sidetracked on the way to their destination?

well -- they wind up making out for hours. so, there’s that.

it’s not part of the plan but it’s a hell of a side quest, memorizing the shape and feel of her with his hands while her lips pull every last bit of breath from his lungs, until he’s lightheaded and dizzy in a way no other girl has ever made him, before. it’s to the point where when he finally finds it within himself to push her away, he’s uncharacteristically nervous -- something that’s never happened to him before, not even on the night he lost his virginity.

“i really did ask you over to talk,” he says, voice hoarse.

cadence licks her lips and then beams at him, eyes sparkling. “i know.” she shuffles delicately back onto the couch, lingering in his lap for only a moment before pulling away entirely. he stuffs his hands under his thighs to stop himself from reaching out for her again. “sorry i haven’t been around more.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” raleigh shakes his head. “i should be apologizing to you, i feel like... i should be the one who’s around, to help you with all of this. or at least -- i want to be. i don’t know if i’ll be any good at it.”

he blinks, surprised by his own honesty. he hadn’t meant to say all of that, but the words came up before he was cognizant of them and now they’re out there, and there’s no taking them back -- especially with the way she’s looking at him, all soft and sweet and happy.

“well, you don’t have to be good at it,” cadence murmurs, reaching out for his wrists and tugging his hands free so she can interlock their fingers effortlessly. they fit together like puzzle pieces. “you just have to be you.”

her budding relationship with one of the biggest names in r&b doesn’t have much time to bud at all before it’s rudely plucked from the plant and stepped on.

she finds herself blinking at fiona in confusion as the words take some time to process. “you want me to do what?”

xi.

raleigh balks at his manager, shaking his head emphatically. “no,” he spits out, “absolutely not.”

xii.

“cadence, it’s not a big deal,” fiona tells her, very nearly rolling her eyes. “everyone does it. you go on a few dates, play up the relationship for some photos, social media eats it up -- boom, you’re a star.”

“i don’t know,” she answers hesitantly, mind drifting back to the photographers that have already been following her around, screaming about avery when she ducks into the car with him. things with raleigh are... new, and complicated, and do they really need to add public scrutiny into the mix as well? “i just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“it’s a great idea,” fiona sighs, shaking her head. “all our focus groups agree. the label thinks it’s best, what with your single taking so long to put out.” she opens her mouth to protest -- it’s not like she’s dragging her feet on purpose -- but barely has a second to get a word out before fiona continues, “besides, raleigh does this all the time.”

her teeth bite at her bottom lip uncertainly. “he does?”

“of course. chantal clearwater? she was a pictagram model when they met, and now she’s opening shows at paris fashion week. it’s just business.”

it’s not, though. it could never be just anything, for reasons no one else knows about except the two of them, for reasons she’ll never tell. “well... what did raleigh say about it?”

xiii.

“i said no, frank.” he’s annoyed, now, and his manager knows it, raleigh’s arms folded across his chest and his eyes set into a glare. “n. o. no.”

“and i hear you, but is it really the end of the world? she’s exactly what we’re going for, and i know you already get along --”

“which is exactly why i don’t want to do this. so pick someone else. anyone else.” he’s not going to let his label turn her into one of the girls he has to be seen with for fake photos and mutually beneficial positive press.

for so many years, he’s watched people fake feelings and use each other -- willingly participated in the using himself, too, more times than he can count. he never cared about any of it before.

but being with cadence doesn’t feel fake, and he doesn’t ever want it to. and he knows that if he agrees to this, everything he enjoys about spending time with her will disappear in favor of the ugly, plastic decay that’s eaten away at so many of his personal and professional relationships before. organic, genuine time with her will become strolls near celebrity hotspots, angling just right to help the cameras get the perfect shot. he’ll show up to support her at shows because her publicist called him, and their time together will become some manufactured narrative meant to push their labels’ agenda, until six months down the line they don’t even recognize themselves or what might’ve been if they’d done things a different way.

“look, there isn’t anyone else. her team’s already agreed to it, and i’ve got brunch set up for sunday. all you have to do is play nice for two fucking months, raleigh. is that so impossible for you?”

yes. already he feels a deep-seated desire to go somewhere and break something, to tear through the flower beds in central park with his motorcycle and wink at the cameras when they catch up to him.

instead, he storms out of the office he’s in, and into the sunlight, tugging the hood on his jacket up and melting into the crowd on the corner so he can be as anonymous as possible when he picks up his phone and calls cadence.

“hey raleigh,” she chirps as soon as she picks up, sounding far too cheerful for someone who’s likely had an equally as miserable early morning meeting on a friday. “guessing you heard the news?”

“can’t i just call you to say hi?” he grumbles, ducking his head as he strolls through the intersection with the mob of people crowded along fifth ave, turning down the next side street so he’s alone again, with no one following, just like that.

“well, you can,” she teases, and some of the anger he’s carrying around with him fades, dissipating into nothing and evaporating like smoke. “but you’re not.”

“no, i’m not,” he agrees with a sigh, shaking his head. “you sound surprisingly cool with it, though.”

“should i not be?” cadence laughs, but he can detect a thread of nervousness in her tone. “i already want to hang out with you. we have the same friends and work in the same industry. we’re... probably going to go on dates anyway, so... how hard can this be?”

god. she has absolutely no idea. part of him thinks it’d be cruel to burst her bubble, but he should warn her, shouldn’t he?

she sounds so optimistic about it, though. it’s hard to feel anything but hopeful when her voice turns up like that at the end. in the back of his mind, there’s a voice that’s not his suggesting maybe this time, things will be different.

surely he knows better than to think something as ridiculous as that, though, right?

“well, i guess it’ll be interesting, at least,” he muses, slowing his steps by the entrance to the subway.

he’s going to lose his signal just as soon as he heads underground, and he’s not quite ready for that, yet.

xiv.

time with raleigh flies by.

it doesn’t feel like they’re fake-dating -- they do everything she hopes he’d want to do with her anyway, like go out to eat at fancy restaurants and take walks through the park and bounce melodies for songs off of each other, facetiming late at night from their apartments or on the days he visits her and micah in the studio.

he’s by her side for the release of her first single, and her first music video, and through it all, raleigh plays the role of the doting partner perfectly, holding her purse on the red carpet and feeding her paella at a strategically-placed outdoor table and fetching her coffee order when she’s too busy to stop writing for even just five minutes.

in the blink of an eye, it’s time to put out her album -- just like that.

raleigh’s perfectly charming through that process, too. he shows up on time, says all the right things, and keeps a drink in her hand all evening long, so that when she’s finally done making the rounds and can enjoy herself after the entertainment and the networking and the schmoozing she’s giggly and touchy, doing her best to steal him away from the crowd.

“what were your other relationships like?” she asks, half expecting him to brush her off, though he’s always indulged her before. they’ve never really gotten this personal. “fake or... otherwise.”

“they’ve all been fake,” he shrugs, “and i can say with confidence that you’re the best one i’ve ever had.”

“really?” cadence smiles, chin propped up on her hand as she leans over the bar. “be honest. what did you really think, when you realized it was me?”

“what?” he asks, pushing the empty rocks glass in his hands around on the bar top, “you mean this thing?” he gestures at his arm, covered in expensive, custom tom ford, and the tattoo laying innocently beneath it.

“uh huh,” she confirms, “‘cause i was totally like oh shit.”

raleigh laughs, loud and wild, the sound swallowed up by the noise of the party around them. no one nearby is paying them even an ounce of attention, and it’s fun, to be anonymous at her own party, invisible to everyone in the room except for him. “i can imagine. i wouldn’t want to be stuck with me either.”

cadence shakes her head -- that’s not what she’d meant. but before she can protest, he rolls his glass between his palms and thoughtfully continues, “i guess i was a little surprised. it felt like i’d been waiting forever to meet you, so part of me was like, fuck, we’re doing this now? and i never thought it’d be someone so...”

“boring?” she suggests, eyebrows arching when raleigh’s expression immediately twists into one of disagreement, his nose scrunching up with distaste.

“no,” he huffs, “so... good, i guess.” she stares at him as he reaches for one of the waiting tequila shots on the bar, pulling it away from the line he’d set up for the crowd he’d been with before she’d tugged him to the side to talk, leaving the drinks untouched. raleigh knocks the shot back -- no salt, no lime. he’s had twice as many drinks as she has, and she’s definitely feeling them -- she has no idea how he’s even still upright, no worse for wear other than a few slurred words here and there. “but you just are. it’s like every song i’ve ever written was about you, and i just didn’t know it yet.”

the noise of the party fades in favor of the pounding of her heart, loud like a kick drum in her ears. she bites her lip and stares at him, watching as raleigh shakes his head at himself, dazed. “you okay?” she asks quietly, leaning in a little across the bar.

raleigh’s quiet for so long she has to wonder whether or not he actually heard her. just as she clears her throat and opens her mouth to repeat herself even louder, he nods, reaching across the bar and squeezing her hand before dragging her back over to the line of tequila shots waiting for them to enjoy.

the night is a blur after that, and there’s patches of the evening that are fuzzy in her memory the next morning, but she knows she’ll never forget the gentle kiss goodnight raleigh gives her when he helps her stumble into the car back to her apartment at dawn.

xv.

things go really well, until they don’t.

they have a blissful six months together with more fun than he’s ever had with anyone. slowly, he learns every single thing about cadence and returns her openness with honesty of his own -- honesty that feels strange and unfamiliar but weirdly thrilling, in a way, made easier every time one of his stories pulls a laugh or smile from her.

it seems unnatural, having a honeymoon period that goes on for so long. in the entire time they’re dating, he doesn’t destroy a single thing -- doesn’t even want to, which is the weirdest part of it all.

there are some moments that catch him completely off guard. more than a few times, he hardly even recognizes himself, she turns him into such a different person.

he doesn’t hate it, though -- just the opposite, in fact. raleigh realizes he’s really starting to like the carefree, far from jaded person he is when he’s with her, though it only hits him for real when he’s watching her storm away from him on liberty island, eyes fixed on the angry sway of her hips.

he stews on it on the long ride back to his penthouse; the game had, admittedly, been starting to wear on him. but he’d gone along with it because it was supposed to benefit her -- he’d agreed to the stupid public breakup and following the rules and not seeing cadence in public for the foreseeable future because it was what she wanted, and -- frankly, it felt like a stupid fucking decision.

not that it lasts long. he starts texting her just as soon as he’s done washing electralite out of his hair and doesn’t make it more than twenty minutes when they first see each other again at the moda gala before he’s sneaking off with her, ducking under the velvet rope that demarcates the planetarium as ‘off limits’ with her hand tucked neatly in his.

“maybe this is better,” cadence muses between sips of her drink, her eyes on one of the stupid glass exhibits he couldn’t possibly care less about. “now we can just be together -- no pressure. our relationship is ours again.”

their relationship. is that what this is? they’ve spent a lot of time talking about who they are and what they like and don’t like, kissing and touching and holding hands. throughout it all, he’s done his best not to buy into the ‘soulmate’ bullshit too heavily, but over the last few months it’s been hard to deny that there’s a reason he was meant to meet her, that she’s been changing him from the inside out.

“what’s on your mind?” she asks, turning towards him with an open look of genuine curiosity on her face, like she really wants to know.

“it’s nothing,” raleigh answers at first, reflexively, like he has so many times before. no one has ever really wanted to know. but cadence’s eyebrows arch, and she waits, patiently silent, and then the words tumble out of him. “it’s just that -- my whole life, i’ve watched other people use each other. so many people are just interested in the concept of celebrity status. so i played the game. never trusting anyone.”

he shrugs. a hand lifts to rub his jaw, and he looks back to meet her gaze just in time to see the little smile playing at her lips, like she already knows what he’s about to say. “but it’s different, with you. you make me not want to be that person anymore. when i’m with you, it’s the only time i feel anything real.”

“raleigh,” she murmurs, her expression flickering before her face does something that cracks his chest wide open. her eyes go all shiny and sparkly and her cheeks crease with a grin, and the way she laughs is so ridiculously joyful the hand he has stuffed in his pocket curls into a fist to stop him from doing something stupid. “i feel the same way. i just... this whole thing, i know it doesn’t always -- work out, but... with you i really want it to. i’ve never felt this way before about anyone, and i think...”

there’s a pause as her lips purse thoughtfully, and then she says the words that make it impossible for him to do anything but close the distance between them and kiss her over and over again: “i think even without this tattoo it’d be you, anytime, anywhere.”

xvi.

being raleigh carrera’s (real, confirmed, 100%-authentic) girlfriend feels almost too good to be true.

raleigh is... everything she never knew she wanted in a boyfriend, wrapped up into one tall, dark and handsome package, with a loud, goofy laugh and a deep, sexy voice that sends a shiver down her spine whenever his mouth so much as lingers near her ear for too long.

it turns out that, despite their differing status in the industry and her initial assumptions that they came from two completely different worlds, they’re actually on the same page about pretty much everything. she finds that the pressure of the word she’d held in such high regard for so long -- soulmate -- disappears entirely where he’s concerned because being with raleigh is just fun.

there’s motorcycle rides and boat trips and hours up late talking about everything and nothing; facetime calls with his mom and shopping trips where the stores are kept open late for them so they can shop alone, in an empty boutique, like every teen movie she’d ever watched growing up.

there’s late nights in the studio and either of their apartments where they both noodle around on their guitars and improvise half-hearted duets, content to just work in the same orbit as each other for as long as possible.

raleigh’s texting one night on the couch in her living room when she plucks out the melody to who i’ll be on her old acoustic, sitting on the floor in front of the tv.

he looks up before the first verse is over. “what’s that one? it sounds good.”

“oh -- just a song i wrote in college,” cadence hums, already downplaying it as she lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “i got stuck, never finished it. ellis made me sell the progress for some other writer to finish.”

he frowns, pushing up onto his elbow. his phone is tossed carelessly somewhere among the couch cushions. “why?”

“because i was taking too long with the odyssey,” she sighs. “it was kind of my only option. it’s weird, though -- thinking about someone singing something that was so personal to me.”

“play me what you had so far,” he says, and so she does, hesitating for only a second before strumming the chords, singing the lines she had slowly.

when she’s done, she looks up to find that raleigh’s slid to the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees as he leans in as close as he can get with the coffee table in his way. “okay -- that was beautiful. you should finish it.”

she shakes her head, setting her guitar down. “i can’t. they already sold it. and even if i wanted to... i don’t know how it ends.”

raleigh’s legs spread in invitation and she stands to walk around to the couch, slipping into his lap and leaning back against his chest. his hands are tender as he rubs them across her shoulders, sliding up her back before one lifts to brush a lock of hair back behind her ear, his pointer finger pushing her glasses up her nose affectionately. “maybe one day you can write something else with the same theme,” he suggests, and she tries her best to smile even though it feels like a dream lost, somehow -- a ridiculous thought, given that she pretty much has everything she ever wanted, but the way she feels all the same.

“maybe,” she sighs, the kiss he drops to her forehead a bandaid on a wound that’s been doing its best to heal for what feels like her entire life.

xvii.

he’s never brought a date to the vinyls before.

there’s been plenty of after parties he’s stumbled out of with a girl on his arm, sure, but cadence is the first person to sit by his side during the ceremony, and he’s surprised by how much he likes having her next to him.

then again, he’s self aware enough to realize he’d like being pretty much anywhere, with her.

still -- the awards are a lot less boring with her around to kiss and stroke his hair and make snide commentary about the rest of the attendees with, and when she squeezes his hand goodbye to rush backstage and get ready for her performance he misses her instantly.

what happens next makes him endlessly regretful of the fact that he’s not backstage with her.

he rushes around just as soon as he can, pushing his way through security and frantically scrambling technical assistants to find her exactly where he thought he might, between ellis knight and fiona, looking lost with her head in her hands.

she seems equal parts broken and pissed in a way that tugs at his heartstrings and makes him a little bit proud. raleigh shoves through the crowd to get to her and slips an arm around her waist. he’s only caught the tail end of the conversation they’re all having, but he knows enough to know that “you can’t bench her. that’s bull.”

ultimately, though, it doesn’t matter how much they stomp their feet. she’s under contract, their hands are tied, and he walks away seething at the unfairness of it all, this shitty industry that’s turned on her when all she ever wanted to do was make music.

she cries in the car back to her apartment to pack her things. there’s no way he’s letting her go home to iowa or idaho or indiana without him, and he barks at his team over the phone until they agree to move his appearances around so he can make that happen, his free hand clasped tightly in hers until he physically has to let her go so she can unlock her front door with trembling fingers.

cadence tosses clothes haphazardly onto the bed and he silently and precisely moves to folds each piece for her, until she gives up and sinks down onto the edge of the mattress, defeated.

wide eyes filled with tears lock onto his, and he watches her bottom lip wobble before she says, “you really don’t have to do this. come with me, i mean. i know i messed up, and -- you have so much else going on. i don’t expect you to --”

“i’m coming,” he states firmly, setting the sweatpants in his hand down and stepping closer to her, sitting beside cadence on her bed. “what happened tonight was fucked up, cadence -- it shouldn’t have happened at all. i’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

“but --”

“but nothing,” he says, and before the words have even left his mouth she’s falling into his arms with a soft sound of gratitude, mashing her face into his chest as she sniffles.

“thank you,” cadence mumbles, sounding so unsure of herself it makes him wonder if she’s ever had anyone show up for her when it mattered most before, or if that’s yet another thing they unfortunately have in common.

xviii.

raleigh tries his best to cheer her up, but it’s still hard, feeling like she’s let the entire world down. her fans. herself.

there’s something embarrassing about showing raleigh her apartment back home and the person she was before she met him -- all the places she felt most uncertain and where she experienced some her worst self-doubt, the room that still has the smoothie star apron hung up in the closet.

but there’s also something exciting, about being totally off the grid with him. no one knows they’re here and there’s no paparazzi waiting to snap photos of them -- especially given the fact that they don’t leave her building for the first three days she spends moping around while raleigh orders all the takeout he can get his hands on.

it sort of reminds her of when they first met, and there was nothing to do but learn about each other, though now there’s a familiarity to him she relies on, a unique raleigh-ness that feels more like home than this shitty apartment ever did.

still, she struggles, and the weight of the world doesn’t let up until zadie shows up with her fanmail and avery does his best to make her smile with a beach trip and some fancy new toys and a day in the sun with a drink in her hand.

eventually it’s just her and raleigh again, out by the fire after everyone else has gone to bed. her stomach is full of s’mores and her cheeks hurt from smiling for the first time in weeks, and it’s a shock when she realizes she feels content, even after everything that’s happened -- almost as though things will all work out for the better no matter what happens next.

“oh my god,” she gasps suddenly, cutting off what raleigh had been saying as her eyes light up and she hastens to stand. “i’ve gotta -- i need to -- oh my god.”

just like that, she knows how her song ends.

recording it is a process, but raleigh calls in some favors and gets them studio time and agrees to be featured on the song even though she knows he’s still working through a sound change that he feels unsure about.

but it means a lot to her, having him crammed in the booth at her side, singing into the same mic. they sound almost unbelievably good together, too, raleigh’s harmonies on the words that finally resolve that lost feeling she’s been harboring her entire life making something deep within her wriggle up happily, wagging its proverbial tail.

the fact that raleigh remains by her side throughout the entire fight with her label, the long nights of despair agonizing over what her next move is going to be and even the moment where they decide to break into indio, of all places, means more to her than she can ever say. she feels markedly less nervous about the entire thing every time she turns her head to the side and sees him, right there next to her -- right where he’s been this entire time -- smiling encouragingly and squeezing her hand hard in his.

though it’s not until they’re up at the top of the ferris wheel that she realizes how precious what she has really is. it’s not until he looks her dead in the eye and says, with that same soft earnestness he’s awarded her since they first met at the one in a million auditions that feel quite literally like a hundred years ago, “cadence, everything you want is on the other side of fear. and i want you to have everything you want,” that she truly understands that’s what between them is special and rare.

not because of any tattoos, or any preconceived destiny. not because of who they are and their status and the fact that people take pictures of them when they’re out in public together.

but because of this -- all these real moments of genuine connection they’ve been fortunate enough to share since fate threw them into each other’s paths.

“raleigh, i love you.” the words are said easily, not a moment’s hesitation behind them.

just before she crosses over in the cart to kiss him until they’re both breathless, raleigh gifts her the brightest smile he has and says, “i love you, too.”

xix.

the night is a blur from the moment he first takes the stage with his old bandmates to when he finally finds himself alone with cadence in a rundown old motel a few miles out from the festival in the desert.

he can’t recall ever being so happy, so of course he doesn’t remember every agonizing detail of the evening, though he does know he doesn’t feel the need to have a single beer with cadence around, twirling barefoot in the grass and giggling when she leads him up to the room they’ve borrowed.

afterwards, when they’re sitting on the roof together in the blanket they dragged off the bed, he reflects on the wild year they’ve had with her in his arms, fingertips tracing the delicate very funny scrawled across cadence’s collarbone.

he feels... free. completely liberated. like there’s absolutely nothing and no one that can get to him, now, like he’s untouchable, like he doesn’t care about a single thing that happens after today and how perfect things have been.

“i think i’m actually freer than i’ve ever been,” he muses, where his lips are pressed into her hair, “i can take my sound in any direction i want.”

“i’m so happy for you, raleigh,” cadence returns genuinely, tilting her head back so he can see her upside-down smile.

his arms tighten around her. “i’m so excited for what you’re gonna be doing, too. i’m excited for us.”

“yeah,” she sighs, “who knows what’s next, right? now that ellis let me out of my deal...”

he can hear the thread of worry undercutting the words. he shakes his head, hands rubbing up and down her arms. “you can worry about that tomorrow. for tonight, just enjoy the comeback. what you did out there was amazing.”

“what we did,” she corrects, and he blinks up the stars as he realizes she’s right -- they’re a we now. he’s part of a we again, after being on his own for so long.

the phrases bounce around in his head, unfamiliar and foreign. me and my girlfriend, he thinks to himself, cadence and i. we’re going to be late. we’ll be away that weekend. we just started watching that show. we, we, we.

“what we did was amazing,” raleigh amends, the words slow to come out but feeling right all the same. “whatever we do next will be amazing.”

“absolutely,” cadence confirms, with conviction, like it’s something she believes wholeheartedly.

and though he has no idea what to expect or what it might be, a large part of him is inclined to agree with her -- she’s been right about everything else so far.

xx.

one year later, she’s finishing a set in berlin, the last stop on a sprawling european tour that had taken she, avery, micah and raleigh across the continent for dozens of performances to sold-out crowds of thousands screaming her lyrics back to her.

if her contract with overknight had been a dream come true, signing to wilshere records is heaven incarnate. cadence’s trip through the u.k. with her new label is proof enough, and the chance to meet new fans with new stories to share that she could connect with is one she’s taken to with enthusiasm, the experience made all the sweeter by the fact that her favorite people get to be by her side throughout it all.

berlin’s crowd is one of the best, and she fully expects to end the tour on a high note, head banging to the last few notes of ‘knockout’ before raleigh’s planned entrance for the last song of the night, so they can sing the duet that’s closed out every show they’ve had on the tour together.

when he struts out with his guitar, waving and grinning at the crowd, she can’t stop herself from smiling stupidly at him, just like she does every time she sees him join her on stage, every time she realizes that this is their life, that this is something they do every night, now.

though her grin falters when raleigh pauses in front of his microphone and asks, “berlin, do you mind if i talk a little bit before i start the song? no? cool, because i’ve got an important question to ask.”

her eyes widen. cadence’s mouth drops open and doesn’t close throughout the entire speech raleigh gives her, even though thousands of people in the crowd are filming every moment of her gaping like an idiot, snapping close-ups of her shocked face.

the arena practically vibrates with screams when he drops to his knee, popping the box in his hand open so she can see the giant diamond ring nestled inside of it.

“so?” raleigh asks, and cadence can just barely hear him in her in-ears with the way her heart is beating frantically up into her throat, as wild as the crowd’s raging around them and then some. “whaddya say, babe? will you marry me?”

as if the answer could ever be anything but yes. she nods, laughing as she launches herself into his arm for a kiss that’s too grand to be given on stage, though that’s hardly going to stop her -- not tonight, at least. tonight, she’s okay with the whole world watching their every move, just one more time.

“oh, i don’t know if it’s going to fit,” raleigh jokes as the ring slides easily onto her left hand, amping up the theatrics for the fans still watching them avidly, even up in the cheap seats.

cadence rolls her eyes playfully at him. “very funny,” she praises, and the grin he offers her in return is so loving -- so knowing, with the secret that only the two of them share and every weird piece of their history included in it -- that it takes everything she has to shove him away so they can perform instead of dragging him down to the floor to kiss him over and over again.

clumsily, she flubs a few notes of love who i’ll be on her guitar. from across the stage, between the bridge and the chorus, raleigh jeers, “someone hasn’t learned to play with the extra weight on their left hand, yet, i see,” and when she flips him off while belting out the last lines of the verse, his raucous laughter is all the harmony the final few bars of the song needs.

#platinumweekend #platinum #raleigh carrera #raleigh carrera x mc #cadence dorian #raleigh x mc #raleigh x cadence #myfic #long post #well. this sure took me a long time DFJGHDFJHGDFJKGH so i hope you guys like it !! it was kind of a new style for me 😳

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blessedboo · 5 years ago

Text

Need [Pipe Down #2] | Oscar Diaz.

Oscar Diaz x Reader

Summary: You were supposed to get out of your post-breakup blues, but a certain someone clouded your mind all day. You decided to do something about it.

Requested: Yes (Thank you, my loves!)

Warnings: Cursing. Angst to fluff - fluff to smut (18+ Content) and then some more fluff.

Word Count: 4.6K

A/N: The reactions to Pipe Down were incredible. Y’all are so supportive, and fucking hilarious as well. This is my first time writing smut, so I apologize if it’s not that great; feedback is always appreciated. I hope you enjoy reading this sequel, it’s dedicated to all of you. Love ya!

You and Izzy were walking arm in arm back to her car, chatting, laughing. Times like these made you feel grateful to have her in your life, someone you could always count on to be there for you and lift your spirits. Honestly, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself without your homegirl.

The laughter died down as you both sighed and continued walking in comfortable silence. You felt her eyes on you as she turned her head to face yours. She waited a few seconds before saying something, almost as if she was trying to read your thoughts.

“Alright, love. Be real with me now, are you sure you’re okay?”

You turned to face her and gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course, why?”

“You just seemed a little off back there. You’re usually downing mimosas with me by the minute, but instead you were staring off into space.” She paused for a second after saying that, abruptly stopping both of you in your tracks.

Her eyes widened as she side-eyed you, “Shiiit, you aren’t pregnant, are you?”

Your jaw dropped for a moment, shortly turning into a laugh as your head tipped back, shocked by her assumption.

“Girl, no. I do not have a baby in me. And if I did, trust me, you’d be the first one to know.”

“Well, my bad then,” she giggled.

After eventually getting in the car, Izzy thought it’d be nice to put the roof down, convertible style. Today’s light breeze and warm sun did you favors as your skin glowed and your hair flowed. You raised your arm up in the air, the brisk wind gently dancing around it as you jammed out to Brent Faiyaz, H.E.R and other R&B favorites.

You and Izzy sang simultaneously, screeching at the top of your lungs when it came to those high notes. It didn’t matter if it was good, it was a vibe.

Soon enough, the car began to approach your neighborhood. Izzy turned to you, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

“Wellll, where am I dropping you off to?”

”Where else? Home, babes,” you let out a small laugh and nudged her elbow for asking you that question.

“Mm, I know. But which one? Yours or your baby daddy’s?” She bit her lip and winked at you. “If you get what I mean ...”

Izzy knowingly wiggled her brows up and down, tongue in cheek. Your brows furrowed slightly as you shook your head at her, unsure of what she was implying.

It took you a good three seconds but Izzy knew you got the message when your eyes widened, rolling to the back of your head. She cheekily snickered at you as you did.

You gave her an unamused look and pinched the bridge of your nose, realizing she was referring to Oscar. And not just ‘Oscar,’ she referred to him as your “baby daddy”. Oh please, as if you’d ever let his fine ass him knock you up.

Would I?

You knew she was only teasing, but what she said started getting to you. It made you overthink and you didn’t like it.

“You know damn well he is not my baby daddy, nor will he ever be. We’re over, Iz - we have been for two weeks, you know that.”

She kissed her teeth and raised an eyebrow at you, dismissing your comment, or what she knew as your lies. She always saw right through you, you couldn’t fake anything with her even if you tried.

“Bitch,” she retorted with an annoyed inflection in her tone, “you can’t fool me. I put two and two together when I saw how you acted at brunch. No wonder, Spooky got you all in your feelings, and I’m sure it has something to do with whatever happened between you two this morning.”

“I-“

You were immediately cut off by her. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t done scolding you.

“You’re lucky I saved your ass from saying something stupid.”

You had a mini-flashback to the moment you and Oscar shared right before she picked you up. You remembered how vulnerable you got in his arms, ready to spill all the pain you’d been feeling. You didn’t notice you started to slouch, or the frown that appeared on your face just then. But Izzy did.

She looked away to gather her thoughts before turning back to you, lips pulled to one side as she gave you an empathetic look. She grabbed your hand and clasped her fingers over it to comfort you.

“You miss him, huh?”

You couldn’t lie to her or yourself anymore. You sighed, “I’m angry at him. I’m upset with him—“

“But ...” Izzy added.

“—But I do miss him.” You groaned as you tipped your head back into the seat. You really missed him, and that longing feeling to be close to Oscar again was eating you up inside.

Longing for him to eat me up instead.

“Told ya,” Izzy smirked triumphantly, you scowled back at her in return.

“Not now, dumb ass.”

She chuckled before continuing the drive to your block.

—

“Alright, we’re here.”

The rest of the drive was silent, so deep in your daydream that you completely shut yourself off from your surroundings.

You looked at the house she parked at, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Iz, you’re a good couple of houses away from mine. We aren’t even on the right side of the street, this is Osca-“

You blinked once.

Twice.

Thrice.

“Izzy.”

She was looking down to avoid eye contact, but still smiling ever so mischievously.

“Okay, don’t be mad, but—“

“IZ-“

“—BUT! I really think you should talk to him. You clearly aren’t over him, he probably isn’t over you. Both of you should stop being so stubborn, keep pride out of this, and have yourselves some bomb ass makeup sex.”

You whipped your head towards her, eyes bulging at the last remark.

“What? No sex? That’s cool too, that’s cool too. Maybe that’s just me then.”

You tried your best to stay annoyed at her, but you couldn’t help it. Your lips pulled into a smile as you admired your best friend. You let out a small chuckle before undoing your seat belt.

“I hate you.”

She grinned, “I know, I love you too.”

Izzy pulled you into a hug before you opened the car door and got out. You walked around, but she called out from behind as soon as you approached the lawn.

“Hey, wait!”

You spun your head around to look at her, forehead wrinkled as a questioning gesture.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” She exclaimed as she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, closed her fists, and did a back-and-forth pumping gesture with both arms at her sides to signal fucking.

Cheeks turning red, you palmed your face embarrassedly, “Oh God, please stop.”

Man, you really loved her.

You waved her off as she laughed, hurriedly making your way to Oscar’s front door before anyone saw that atrocity.

Here you were again for the second time today. Damn, he got you fucked up.

All that readiness you had a minute ago washed away, now being encompassed by anxiousness and self-doubt. Great, your favorite duo of terror.

Am I being too desperate?

This is a bad idea.

No, I love him. Just do it, coward.

At last, you raised your hand to the dreaded large plank of wood you stood in front of. “It’s now or never.”

One knock. Two knocks. And a third.

He’s fucking that blonde chick.

Abort mission.

Mayday! Mayda-

“Y/N ... Back so soon?” A shirtless Oscar leaned up against the doorframe, bright-eyed and flashing that sexy smirk.

In any other instance, you’d retort with a witty remark, fire back with some sass.

But this wasn’t any other instance.

You were hurting, and you were tired. You were tired of the lonely nights, tired of these mind games, tired of bottling it all up. Oscar took notice of your silence and the blank, but sad, expression on your face. He sensed something was wrong. He knew because he felt that way too. Regretting what he said, his features softened. His eyes drooped whilst muscles relaxed as he reached his arms out to you.

There were a million reasons to turn back around and run for the hills. Could you trust him not to break your heart again? Could you guarantee that everything will work out from that point on?

The truth is, you didn’t know.

But if there was anything you did know, it’s that if you ran now, you may never get this chance again.

You were hesitant, but you stepped forward and gently placed a hand on his upper arm; a silent invite for him to embrace you. The corner of his lips curved into a small, sad smile. Neither of you had to speak to be able to empathize with each other. You felt each other’s everything.

Pain. Frustration. Happiness. And everything in between.

That was the beauty of your relationship.

He lead you inside before wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into a tight, but tender, hug. The warmth of his bare body engulfed your entire being. Your hands followed suit as you moved them under his arms and clasped them onto each shoulder, your face tilted to fit like a puzzle piece in the crook of his tattooed neck.

You basked in each other’s silence as the comfort washed over you. It was dead-quiet in the house, and all you could hear were Oscar’s gentle breaths as he inhaled and exhaled on the tops of your cheeks. Along with the soft thumping of his heartbeat as he relaxed into you more and more as the moment went by.

As much as you appreciated the embrace, there were still probing thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind. You had questions and you needed answers.

“Oscar?”

“Hm?”

“Couch.”

“Okay.”

Removing yourselves from each other, you made your way into his living room. You sat side-by-side, not as close as a few seconds ago, but close enough to reach out for him just in case you needed to beat his ass.

You took a deep breath in before letting out a sigh that sounded like it was hidden in the depths of your body.

“You told me you were too busy to be with me. That you needed space. That it wasn’t the best time to be in a relationship, and that we weren’t right for each other anyway. Too different.”

“I know, I-“

“But earlier you tell me you miss me. A lot, might I add. How do you think that makes me feel? That’s frustrating and confusing as fuck, Oscar!”

“Y/N, I know. I fucked up. I fucked up big time. I knew I fucked up on that first night I spent without you. I was wrong, so goddamn wrong, and I hated myself for it.”

“So then why say it? Why, Oscar? We were doing so well, and then you drop the breakup bomb out of nowhere. And if you regretted it so much, why not talk to me the day after instead of ignoring me?”

“Because—“ He paused as he looked away. His open, expressive hands closing into a fist as he rubbed his thumb against the side of his index finger. This was a habit of his whenever he was anxious, annoyed, or anything of the sort. His nostrils flared as his eyebrows knitted together, lips curving downwards into a frown. You watched his actions intently, the battle he had with himself, his internal conflict, playing out in front of your eyes.

He sighed, “because I knew you’d be better off without me - in more ways than one. I’m a liability, nena. I bring more harm than good, to you and to Cesar.”

“—And with all that shit that went down with Cuchillos, I didn’t want you standing in the middle of the crossfire. I couldn’t risk anything happening to you, so I pushed you away. So yes, I did need my space to handle my shit without you, and yes, I was too busy … too busy to give you the attention we both needed. But I never stopped loving you, I just wanted to protect you.”

Oscar’s breathing was heavy as he closed his eyes, lids tucking in tightly after the release of this built-up resentment.

My baby was protecting me, and he was hurting in the process.

Lightning struck you at the center of your heart and made it shatter into a million broken fragments. Or at least that’s what it felt like. You ached for him. You always did knowing the life he was living, but now more than ever. Your eyes welled up with tears, your head dropping down.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t fix what I did, but I pro-“

You cut him off by clasping one hand over his nape, and another on the side of his face as you pulled him into a soft, sweet kiss. You didn’t do it out of pity. You didn’t do it to shut him up. You did it to reassure him, to calm his mind, to ease his blessed heart.

Prior to the two weeks of isolation, you were Oscar’s peace, and he yours. In a time he needed it most, he lost his peace, his only form of solace.

To say you felt bad was an understatement.

Your plump lips danced against his own. It was a tango of love and war. Longing, yet laced in suffering. The kiss was slow and sensual as the two lovers rekindled the flame that never truly died out. Beneath all that tenderness, both of your lips still fought for dominance.

To claim the upper hand, he grabbed onto your waist and propped you onto his lap. With the close proximity of your rhythmically moving bodies, you inhaled deeply as the aroma of beer, cologne and cigarettes tickled your nose. The smell was intoxicating, pure bliss, and only he could pull it off.

There were other things only he could pull off, like my clothes perhaps.

You could sense Oscar’s patience quickly dissipating with each taste of your soft, moist kisses. He couldn’t get enough of them, and two weeks away from them were two weeks too long. He lolled helplessly with his eyes clenched shut, in a trance of tongue.

As the kiss got more heated, a sweet moan erupted from your throat. You were soaking up every ounce of loving he was giving you, hypnotized by the way he held you, felt you, caressed you. Oscar smiled against your lips as a result, bringing his hand up to the back of your head as his fingers tangled and intertwined with your locks to deepen his motions.

You started to feel overwhelmed—in the best way possible—but he was, quite literally, taking your breath away. You unlatched your lips from his, both of you gasping for air simultaneously. You stared into each other’s eyes that glistened with lust and adoration. From the way you two were moving, you would’ve thought you had been away from each other for months. But that only seemed to prove the immense need and want for one another.

You stared at his now swollen, red, wet lips and giggled. He joined, chuckling as he saw your own, clearly enthusiastic at what he’d done to you. As he did, he brought a thumb up to wipe over your tear-stained cheeks.

“So ... does that mean I’m forgiven?” He asked sporting a cheeky, lopsided grin.

You licked your lips as you sat up on your knees, his thigh in between your legs whilst towering over him. Mindlessly, he ran his hands up your waist and down your hips, groping your thighs here and there ever so slightly.

“Hm,” you bit your fingernail pensively. Your eyes darkened with mischief as you thought of other ways he’d be able to make it up to you. You glared at him, biting your lip, “how badly do you miss me, baby?”

He smirked at your sudden burst of sexual prowess. “Badly, mamí.”

“Mm, what are you willing to do?”

“Anything.”

“Prove it. Prove that you missed me.” You coaxed, lust and desire laced your soft spoken voice.

And that was all he needed for him to unzip your shorts at a tantalizing pace, never breaking eye contact with you as he did. Maybe you deserved a little bit of teasing for the petty ‘mission’ you pulled earlier. You shimmied out of them impatiently, and he laughed at your attempt to hurry.

“What are you in a rush for, mamas? I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you,” he reassured you as he cupped your face before placing a small, chaste kiss on your lips.

You sighed, nodding your head. Your body relaxed as you lowered yourself onto his lap again.

“You’re right. Do your thing, my love.”

He pecked your cheek, your nose, the corner of your mouth and peppered light kisses along your jawline. You loved how romantic he was before devouring you or fucking you senseless - such a deliciously dynamic man.

He lifted your chin up to tilt your head back, giving him more access to the soft skin of your neck. Needless to say, you weren’t expecting his lips to brush up against the sensitive area below your ear as he licked you with a long, single swipe of his tongue.

Goodbye, Mr. Romantic and hello, Daddy.

He nipped and sucked, and nipped and sucked. Hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing all around your neck and down to your collarbone as one hand was wrapped gently, yet firmly, around your throat, right under your chin to hold it up. Your breaths were shaky, light moans rolled off your lips naturally, and a very apparent pool formed in your black lace panties.

Oscar unwrapped the knot of your top, letting the sleeves fall down your arms. His fingers slid on your smooth skin as he took it off completely.

“Damn, baby,” he whispered as he wishfully gazed at your breasts, passion shadowing over him. You placed your hands on his chest, nails lightly scratching the bare skin as you dragged them down. His lips parted in response, his excited heartbeats could be felt under your fingertips. From the heavy breathing to the glossy beads of sweat that glistened on his tanned skin, the atmosphere of the room got dense - air heavy, sexual tension thick.

With an expert flick of his fingers, your bra was on the floor in a matter of seconds. Oscar’s big hands were on your waist and back, ensuring there was no way to escape. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else anyway.

He wasted no time latching onto your right nipple, cupping your plump assets as he groped and squeezed teasingly. His tongue danced fluently over the swell of your breast, evoking a porn-worthy moan that reverberated against the four walls of the small room. The wet sensation combined with the tantalizingly sensual circular motions were heavenly.

“Oh God,” you whimpered breathlessly. Though, it would be best if you kept God out of your sexual endeavours.

Oscar didn’t forget about your left nipple as he alternated between pinching, tugging and rolling it in between his index and thumb. He brought his hand to his mouth, licking his two digits and then continuing his actions.

How considerate of him, you thought. He wanted to give both of your eager breasts the same type of attention, cute.

As you ground your hips against his thigh, subtly getting off from the pressure hitting your core, he felt the moistness that started to coat the thin fabric and your inner thighs. Your nipple left the warmth of his mouth and was now encompassed by the cool air. You shivered at the new sensation, instantly missing the feel of his lips as you pouted.

Smirking, he looked down, catching you in the act of your mini joyride.

“Naughty.”

You giggled, “Maybe a little.”

He hummed amusingly before gently pushing your chest backwards so that you could lay down flat on the couch. He crawled to hover over you, letting out a groan as he bit his lip and took in your current state. The woman he cherished was sprawled half-naked on the couch, swollen breasts rising up and down, looking up at him with big love-hazed eyes and plump pouty lips as you waited for him to please you.

In his eyes, it was the most angelic sight. You loved the way he looked at you as if you were the center of his universe. You smiled at him, following with a wink.

His face inched closer to yours as he gave you a sweet kiss before planting many of them on a trail from your neck, to the valley in between your breasts, and finally to the awaited destination.

He looked up at you through his gorgeous, long lashes. He kept that hungry glare pointed on you as he hooked his fingers into your waistband, dragging them down swiftly. Your stomach fluttered in anticipation. If it was even possible, your arousal got more wet at the thought of his mouth on your pussy. You wanted him so bad, it was painful.

“Please,” you pleaded. “I need you.”

That breathy whimper set him off. He didn't bother teasing the surrounding area as usual. He was starving, and he was gon’ feast like his life depended on it.

As he lowered himself, the cold metal of his cross grazed your lips. You jumped at the stinging chill, a sensation that amplified tenfold due to the already aching area.

He ran two fingers up and down your soaking slit, spreading the two lips, then rubbing them closer together, and repeating. As his fingers occasionally brushed along your swollen clit, your thighs would involuntarily clench at the sensitivity. He followed your body’s requests by rubbing the bud in gentle circles, applying just enough pressure to stimulate you. He would press down on it every now and then, which would really get you going.

At this point, you were already a whimpering mess for him and he loved it.

“You want more, nena?”

Unable to comprehend any words, you simply nodded. Now tugging and rolling at your throbbing bundle of nerves, “No no, I want you to tell me. Let me hear that voice.”

“Yes,” you whispered, “… M-more,” was all you managed to get out in a broken moan.

Oscar gripped your thighs as he dropped his head down to your core. You were immediately met with a long lick that flattened against your entrance, from bottom to top. You gasped at the moist feeling of his velvet tongue combined with the warm breaths that lingered on your skin.

He spread your legs wider and pushed your thighs back, allowing more access for him to hit all the right spots. His lips smothered your pussy with sloppy, deep kisses.

He was french-kissing the fuck out of your core, and your endless cries only encouraged him to keep going.

His tongue curled up to flick your clit rapidly before easing your pleasure with soft circular motions. Not wanting to lose his rhythm, he closed in on your pearl, sucking on it tenderly as his fingers wandered in between your folds.

“Oh Daddy… Fuck yeah,” you hissed.

“Mm, you like that?” He groaned.

“Yes! Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” were only some of the obscenities that rolled off your tongue.

Well, his tongue was doing most of the rolling.

Your pussy was throbbing, aching for release. Breathless, you propped yourself up on one arm to get a glimpse of the action. Your fluids flowed out of you - it was ‘The Y/N River’ down there. They coated your walls, Oscar’s beard and definitely drenched the couch material under you.

But he didn’t mind one bit. In fact, it drove him wild. He lapped up your juices in quick, yet deliberate, movements of his tongue.

Feeling him do it was pleasurable enough, but watching his determination play out on your sex was a whole new level of sexy, and eventually brought you closer to release. Your back arched, your hips bucked and you were a moaning disaster.

“Fuck! Fuuuck! Baby … I- … Ah, shit! … I’m g-gonna come. Just like that, yes. Yes!”

Your orgasm was bubbling at the pit of your stomach. You were so close.

“Fuck. Come. Come for me, mamí.”

His mouth attacked your pussy greedily, fingers doing quick work of rubbing your folds in ‘figure eights’. He used two of his digits to spread your folds as he tongue-fucked you. One of your hands held onto the back of his scalp, while the nails of the other dug into his broad shoulder so deeply you were scared to puncture skin.

Him egging you on and praising you nonstop was the last straw. He grumbled against your soaked core as your thighs clenched together. His name left your lips in a cry, over and over.

Like a chant, or more so a prayer.

You shook and shuddered uncontrollably during your throes of passion, your back landing onto the couch from the euphoric exhaustion. Your head tipped back in ecstasy as he cupped your core gently, hushing you into a state of ease.

Your breaths became less heavy as seconds passed by. You sighed before slightly turning your head upwards, only to catch your man staring at you intently. A big ol’ cheesy grin plastered on his gorgeous face.

“Beautiful,” he hummed.

You shook your head, laughing at his cuteness.

When your legs somewhat regained their strength, you sat up and clung onto his torso. The both of you laid back upright on the couch. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder to bring you closer. Placing a hand on his chest, the beats of his heart drummed for you.

You smiled, and as if you communicated telepathically, you both looked at each other like lovestruck puppies.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Oscar.”

“Pase lo que pase?”

“Pase lo que pase.”

You cupped his cheek as your two lips connected. A sweet kiss to seal the deal.

“So what are we going to do about this?” He asked, gesturing towards the obvious tent in his pants. You rolled your eyes, not being able to resist a small laugh. “You always have to ruin the mood, hm?”

“What? I’ve got needs too, Y/N.”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not letting you get off that easy. You’ve gotta work for it.” If looks could kill; he death-stared you down as his brows knitted together. “Eating you out ain’t enough?”

“Oh baby, no. That makes up for at least a week's worth. Cook me breakfast tomorrow, and you’ll be on the right path.”

He squinted at you unamusedly, along with slightly flared nostrils and lips pulled a straight line. “Seriously?”

“Very serious,” you raised your brow at him, sporting a cheeky smirk.

He groaned while running a palm over his face, an eye roll on display right after. “Fine. So spoilt.”

“Keep that attitude up, boy. I’ll have you sleeping on the couch too.”

He scoffed as his forehead wrinkled in disbelief. He bit down on his bottom lip as he shook his head at you. It wasn’t long before he was towering over you, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you over his shoulder - ass out, facing skyward.

You gasped before squealing as you smacked your hands against his back.

“What are you doing?! Let me down!”

“Nah. I make you come, and all of a sudden you’re bossing me around in my own house,” he retorted while sending a nice slap against your ass. “Must be out yo’ damn mind.”

Your bickering continued all the way into the bedroom. It was an evening of love and laughter, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

____________________________________________

Spanish translations - [Correct me if I’m wrong]

Pase lo que pase - No matter what / Whatever happens

#oscar diaz #spooky diaz #oscar diaz x reader #spooky diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #spooky diaz imagine #on my block #omb #omb imagine #omb fanfic #oscar diaz fanfic #julio macias #x reader #x black!reader #x poc!reader #spooky diaz smut #oscar diaz smut

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years ago

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Supernatural Series Finale

It took me a couple days to collect my thoughts on one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to watch in my life. Like I said a few days ago, I cried even harder watching it the second time around. But now that I’ve had a chance to process and also see what other people were saying, I think I can finally put into words my impression of the finale.

Buckle up, this is a long one....

Let me preface this first off by saying that as an adamant Dean girl that has said numerous times over the years that all I’ve ever wanted was to wrap Dean in a blanket and give him some forehead kisses and tell him everything is going to be fine, this episode gutted me. I fully believe that my boy did not deserve to fight so hard for so long to just die as soon as he was free. He deserved a lifetime of truly enjoying time with his baby brother, the person he loved most in the whole world.

Now with that being said, having watched this series so many numerous times, I truly don’t believe that the show could have ended any other way. It’s something that has been pointed out by the creator, the writers, the actors, and even the characters themselves in the show. Dean never saw anything else for himself than dying doing the one thing he knows best, hunting. I saw a post that discussed how this would have happened numerous times already had Chuck not been interfering in their lives, and I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment.

And Dean had been raised to never think anything of that. It goes back to Cas’ declaration that he is “the most loving human he has ever met”. Dean is and always has been a man of duty. He would gladly die at the end of a blade if it meant he saved someone from the fate his family was ‘destined’ to live. He has always cared more about other people than he ever has himself. It part of the reason that his freak out in 15.17 didn’t throw me because for fuck’s sake wasn’t it his turn to be a little bit selfish for once?

Anyway, I digress. Dean has been fighting for others his whole life. And as stated in 15.19, him and Sam were free to finally write their own story. Is it not 100% on character that Dean would die a hunter’s death? As we see in the beginning of the episode, the Winchesters could have chosen to walk away from the life then. They could have chose the apple pie life, a wife and 2.5 kids. But they didn’t, they chose to continue saving people, hunting things. They were writing their own story, even if it ended tragically. But that’s life, it’s messy and depressing, but it’s also beautiful and even if Dean only got a small taste of that, I can be happy.

I know a lot of people feel like that negates their character growth throughout the seasons, but I disagree. I think that the way this ended shows just how much both of them had grown. Sam very well could have went to Jack and begged him to bring Dean back and Dean could have asked him to. But neither felt that it was necessary any longer. Without Chuck pulling the strings, that scary, neurotic, codependence they used to hold was gone. Dean was okay with dying and Sam let him go. Dean told him how much he loved him and how scared he had been to go get him at school. Dean opened up, something that season 1 Dean never would have done. Just look back at “Faith”, the episode where Dean makes every joke in the book about dying instead of facing the truth that his time was up and Sam refuses to accept it so much that his one source to save him (unwittingly) is black magic. The men I saw in 15.20 were far from the men we met in season one.

Coming back to finally being free, I have to talk about the dammed paperwork in Dean’s room. I’ve seen the speculation about that. But that’s all it is, speculation. We have no idea what that was supposed to be about. If they had meant for us to see it, they would have shown it to use like they showed us the “Dean’s other other phone” sticker. But they didn’t. So it’s perfectly fine to speculate about it, that all a part of art interpretation, but in my opinion, even if Dean was working on ‘something else’ I don’t think he ever could have fully walked away from hunting. This ending was for all intents and purposes, inevitable.

For all the rest, as a writer, I fully understand the way that they chose to do this episode. Sure covid played a role but the boys had said that the crux of what the episode was did not change. There is a certain nuance to storytelling, like I posted back on Thursday and something that is probably one of the most famous lines from this show. Endings are hard. Writing is hard. It’s impossible to please everyone and even harder to tie up all loose ends. At the end of the day, the writers had to be satisfied with the story that they put out, irregardless of what you or I think. As Jensen so beautifully puts it, Supernatural is a piece of art, one that has numerous hands in the pot. From writers to actors and directors. And art is always up for interpretation. But that’s the beauty in it.

I talked to a dear friend, @waywardbeanie after the episode and was like “I want to know x.y.and z” because a part of me wanted all the answers from them. I’ve always been a person so very deeply rooted in canon (I know as a fanfic author that sounds weird but stay with me). I trust the information given to me and take it as face value. I seen my stories as an extension to canon, not trying to rewrite it. So it took me a few days, and more conversations with other fans of the show, like @winchest09 , to understand that the facts left out of the final were most likely intentional.

This is a show that has such a passionate and loving (mostly) fandom. Together we have done so much good for the world, and that is something even if you hated the finale, you can’t take back. The writers left the ending open for us, to write our own stories, whether it’s just your thoughts or if you actually write a piece of fanfiction. There is so little about what happens after Sam leaves, presumably for Austin (don’t even get me started on the essence of that cause I might cry again), because it’s our job to decide. Did Sam quite hunting all together or was he a pseudo Bobby, manning the phones for other hunters? Did he finally go to law school or end up getting some other mundane job? Who was his wife or girlfriend or baby momma in the background? Was it Eileen? If not did she know about his life? One could drive themselves crazy answering these questions, and it’s your right to do so however it will make you happy. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter to the story.

At the end of the day, what mattered was the peace that the boys found together, in heaven. Sure Dean missed Sammy when he first got there, but he didn’t fuss, because as Bobby said “he would be along”. So Dean did what he’s always done, he took a drive in Baby, and Sam was there when he finally brought her to a stop. In the end their story ended just as it had started, our boys together.

And I know a lot of people are angry because one of the big themes this show touched on was that family doesn’t end in blood. And I agree wholeheartedly that I would have loved more familiar faces or even the mention of them (I screamed when Donna was mentioned), but at the end of the day, something Eric Kripke has been saying since season one, this show is and always has been about the brothers and their relationship. I in no way think that this negates the family they found along the way or how they could not have done a lot of it without them but, it’s not their story. I’m sorry but it’s true.

It’s not about Cas, Jack, Bobby, Crowley, Ellen, Jo, Mary, Eileen, etc. It’s about Sam and Dean and it sucks that people can’t let that go, but I get it. I can’t imagine putting so much time into something to let something like that ruin the whole experience for you. I hope that you can find peace eventually. I guess that’s my blessing, that I never really cared for anyone besides Dean. Which isn’t to say I didn’t like characters but what happened to them never mattered to me, as bitchy as that sounds.

I’m at peace with this ending, no matter how much it hurts me. And I think it’s just the finality of it that hurts. Jensen and Jared and Kripke are satisfied with their little show that could and that’s what matters most to me. Because those are the real people with real feelings that I care about.

So there you have it. I have zero tolerance for negativity, so please keep your comments off this posts. You are free to your opinion but I don’t want to see it and put any seed of doubt in my acceptance of this ending. I’ll be the first to admit I’m too easily swayed, ha!

But if you need to talk, my inbox is always open. I’m still coping with the loss of this show and everything that comes with it. I don’t do well with change or facing my own mortality, something that has rattle me these past few days. I feel a million years older and that scares me. So know your feelings are valid and I’m here.

#supernatural #spoilers #dont spoil the final hunt #spn finale #supernatural finale

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rosecorcoranwrites · 4 years ago

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Censorship and Banning Books

As I mentioned in my last Rant Rave Review, as of last Monday, six books by Dr. Seuss are now officially out-of-print, and they are out of print due to supposedly racist, offensive, and/or stereotypical images. The company that owns the rights to these books is no longer publishing them and some websites are no longer selling them. People who do own the books, or who swooped into stores and bought them the day of the announcement, are now selling them for hundreds or thousands of dollars. So, what are we to make of all this?

Is Dr. Seuss Racist?

There are actually three questions here: is the man racist, are his books racist, and are those images racist? The answer to the first is, he kinda was, and then he got over it. During the war, he was openly against the Japanese, and in favor of the internment camps, then went to Japan during the occupation and realized, hey, maybe these are just people. Apparently, he wrote Horton Hears a Who in response to the US occupation and dedicated it to a Japanese friend. People can change, if you let them.

Okay, well, what about his books? This is an obvious "no". Race basically doesn't come up in Dr. Seuss stories, except "The Sneetches", which is actively against racism. Which, in some people's fevered imaginations, makes it racist. Yes, in some Olympic-level mental gymnastics, saying that whatever race you are isn't important, ie being against "racial essentialism" means that you are a racist. Such people think that the story doesn't address "structures of power" and "systemic oppression". This is true. It's instead a story about a sleazy businessman who goes in and preys on existing racial biases in order to make a buck, constantly telling people to think of their identities in terms of their outward appearance. You'd think the racial essentialists would appreciate the representation.

But I digress.

What about the images themselves? Are they racist? Not having seen all of them, I can't say for sure, but some are definitely cringy. Take the yellow skinned "Chinaman who eats with sticks" in And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street. Though one could argue that the entire book uses only five colors: yellow, red, blue, and touches of purple and green, this man is the only human whose skin is colored at all. Later editions of this book have actually changed the image and text:

Honestly, I think this is fine. The meter still scans, and the image isn't straight-up removed. I mean, we could maybe discuss whether it's okay to alter an author's work, but he was alive when at least one of these these changes was made, so I think he allowed it.

Next we have some from If I Ran the Zoo, like this one, of some Asian dudes who "all wear their eyes at a slant":

I think, in this case, the text is the problem, but not the picture. Though some describe this image as "exotified", I think it's more just exaggerated, as are most of Dr. Seuss's characters. He doesn't do things half way. Aside from that, the picture is kind of cute and silly; nothing in it is derogatory or mean to the helpers. The text on the other hand... oof. Yeah, I would say this is a true example of something "offensive". I could see changing that (as long as the meter still scans!).

And then there are the fellows holding the tufted mazurka:

That's pretty bad. So bad that as a child, I don't think I actually registered that those were supposed to be humans, but rather other Seussian creatures. It doesn't help, again, that in his color pallet, people that would ordinarily be brown are now black-black, not unlike the most racist images of yesteryear. But the fact that their lips are left uncolored, I think, is what gets me. It's a little too close to black-face for comfort. Again, I think it would be okay to alter the image: color in their lips, change the shading. I know some people quibble with their costume, but some peoples do wear little amounts of clothing, so I don't think thats the issue here.

I can't speak to the other books, because I haven't seen those pictures, but I would say, yeah, some of the images and phrasing are problematic. I don't think that means the books are racist. Seuss isn't saying the Asian helpers or the African mazurka wranglers are less than the white child running the zoo. He is exotifying them to some degree, but the degree to which that is being done can, I believe, be fixed with very minor alterations.

Should the Books Be Banned?

Again, I think there are a couple questions here: are these books being banned, and should they be banned?

In our increasingly-willing-to-cancel culture, people like to talk about the difference between government censorship vs. corporate censorship, which is a valid topic. But when it comes to huge corporations like Amazon banning books from their website for hate speech or Ebay halting the ability of vendors to sell certain titles on their platform, to say "it’s a private corporation, so it's not censorship" is disingenuous. Maybe it doesn't violate the First Amendment, but it is censorship. A single bookstore refusing to sell a book, a single library refusing to carry a book, is censorship.

A single company that owns the rights to a book refusing to sell it is 100% censorship. I'm personally offended by the idea of any book being out-of-print in the day and age of print-on-demand, but I'm especially sickened when companies pull this nonsense. This is similar to foreign companies who refuse to publish novels, games, and videos in English copyright striking fanlations; they are not losing money, so why do they care?

In the case of the Seuss estate, or whoever owns the rights, all that they are doing is denying poor people access to books. That's right, if you can shell out $786 for a children's book, you can read these delightful stories. What's that? You're a single mom who works two jobs? Well, sucks to be you.

What's really vile is that people are saying, "It's only six books. You still have the others." First off, this is admitting that those six books are now censored and unavailable. Secondly, this is a stupid argument. It's like saying, "Well, the Nazi's didn't burn every book in Germany. There were plenty of others." What if I wanted to read the ones that were burned?

And that brings us to the question of whether or not those books ought to be banned. Heck, should they even be altered? Some of you might have balked at my saying I was fine with the images being changed; isn't that censorship? I think that would take it's own blog post, but here I'll just say that I don't think the changes I discussed would really alter the content, message, or meaning of the work. That being said, I don't think you have to change the images either.

That is, I think it's okay to publish, purchase, own, and read problematic material. As many commentators have pointed out, no child is going to be made into a racist by reading these books or seeing these images. Any racist or even iffy overtones are going to go right over their heads unless parents point them out. If, in the one in a million chance, your child actually notices anything wrong with the images, like "why is his skin yellow?" or something, then you can have a conversation about how sometimes, back in the day, people drew some not-so-nice pictures of Asian people and thought their skin should be painted as yellow, but we don't do that anymore, but this book was written a long time ago, etc etc. If they ask about what a Chinaman is, say it's an old word for a Chinese person, but you should never say it, because it can hurt people's feelings. Talk to your children; it isn't hard.

Should Any Books Be Banned

If you've been paying attention to what's been happening in book land lately, you'll know that Dr. Seuss's books are not the first to be put on the chopping block. Last year, Abigail Shrier's book, Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters, was removed from Target due to requests of trans activists. It was returned after backlash. Now I think it might be banned again? Who can even keep up anymore. Similarly, When Harry Became Sally: Responding to the Transgender Moment, by Ryan T. Anderson, has now been removed from Amazon for being "hate speech".

In the microcosm of the library world, I've had some people take issue with certain controversial books. When processing our new books, my part-timer picked up Irreversible Damage and asked, "Did someone request this?" as if we shouldn't have ordered it if they didn't. Both that book, and White Fragility: Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism, by Robin DiAngelo, were face out in our new book area, since they were the newest books. The former was turned backwards or put spine out with the older books multiple time by patrons, the latter turned backwards once. During the election, I found books for and against Trump hidden behind other books.

My question for people who do this in the library, and for corporations who do essentially the same thing on a massive scale, is who exactly do you think you are helping? Do you think anyone's mind is going to be changed on Trump? Or transgenderism, or white fragility, just by reading a book?

If the answer is "no", then why bother banning or hiding them? If the answer is yes, then that means you think books have the power to change minds, but you want to deny that opportunity to people. Rather than debating ideas, or writing a better book, or showing people why they shouldn't think a certain way, people are increasingly trying to banish certain ideas entirely. How dare an author question X, Y, or Z idea? How dare people be allowed to have an opinion different from the one we say they should!

What's so frustrating about cancel culture and censorship is that people think they really are trying to do the right thing. What they don't realize is, the people they cancel also think they are doing the right thing.

Take Irreversible Damage: obviously, those that want it banned think that trans kids will be hurt by the ideas expressed in the book, that they will be denied hormones and surgeries and so forth. I'm sure Abigail Shrier believes that trans kids would be hurt by no one examining the idea of wether or not they should be given hormones and surgeries as minors. Both sides care about kids. Both sides are trying to figure out how to help people. If you think that Shrier is wrong and her book is dangerous, then write a more compelling argument explaining why she's wrong.

An example of the right way to go about this is with White Fragility, a book that some people see as problematic, if not racist against white people or black people or both. People have written books specifically refuting the ideas in the book. Others have compiled titles that handle race more tactfully and that can be read instead. And that's the thing; you can choose what to read. You can choose never to read a book deemed problematic, but you have no right to take that choice away from other people.

Where Do Libraries Fall Into All This?

That "right to read" is one of the pillars or librarianship. The reason libraries exist is so that all people, regardless of money, have equal access to books, movies, and other aspects of our shared culture. We librarians understand that books are important not just for education, but also entertainment and escape. Stories are how we as humans process ideas, and everyone has a right to expose themselves to ideas--even controversial or dangerous or flat out wrong ones. They have the right to examine different sides of an issue and form their own conclusions. To try and control what a person reads is to try and control what they think, and no government or corporation has that right.

Thus, libraries don't ban books, wether those books are literary classics, modern treatises on current events and ideologies, or silly picture books by Dr. Seuss.

So it was with some concern that I got an email saying that our county library district would be taking the six Seuss books in question out of circulation. The rationale was that, given that a single book was selling for hundreds or thousands of dollars, some sticky-fingered patrons might steal then from the shelves or "lose" them after checking them out.

Though this logic was sound, I still had misgivings, especially because of incidences of library censorship in the past. Yes, even libraries have not been immune to the scourge. During the Cold War, some libraries would keep books about communism behind the reference desk so that people would have to ask to read them in the library. Not only did this potentially help identify commies, it also discouraged people from reading the books.

Thus, when our new policy is to keep the Seuss books "at the desk" and only let them be read in the library, is that not censorship? Is this accidental censorship, or perhaps intended by the very cancel culturists who want all problematic books to be sent down the memory hole?

No, I don't think it is, because--despite what the very mob who’s in favor of all of this would have you believe--intention matters. Reasons matter. We are not trying to make the books harder to read; we're trying to keep the books from becoming impossible to read. By protecting the books from theft, we're ensuring that the poor as well as the rich can enjoy Dr. Seuss's stories. This, in my mind, is similar to chained up bibles: it looks bad, until you remember that books were rare and expensive, and illuminated manuscripts even more so. If someone steals a book, no one gets to read it, but if a book is under lock and key, some people still can.

Of course, everyone could, if companies would simply stop censoring books, if stores would stop banning them, and if well-intentioned but short-sighted activists would stop digitally burning them. But maybe that's too much to hope for at present. For now, we librarians will have the books safe and sound for when you want to read them. You have only to ask.

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smearsyd · 4 years ago

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Safe in Your Arms | PCY | Bonus, A/N

Lee Seoyun had scars.

Perhaps she had been saved from physical scars, but they were visible enough to her. Thick reminders stood out in her mind that made words like worthless, not good enough, not grateful enough, unloveable, feel like a second skin. She didn’t think she was capable of healing— her parents had told her that she would always be broken, and weren’t your parents the ones who were supposed to know you the best?

So years ago, when Seoyun tragically spilled her hot chocolate all over the front of poor Park Chanyeol’s winter sweater, she was expecting severe backlash— not a forgiving smile and definitely not a new friend. Muchless, Seoyun never in a million years would have imagined that Park Chanyeol would soon be falling in love with someone like her. To be the person who made her, for the first time, feel safe in his arms.

This is Seoyun healed, despite her scars.

characters:

+ park chanyeol (exo), you as lee seoyun (because names are important)

what to expect:

+ christmas + boyfriend!au + fluff and romance

length:

+ 3 parts, bonus drabbles + 25kish in total

warnings:

+ sensitive topics + mentions of traumatic past + smut on part two

read it here: (updating… stay tuned)

+ part one + part two + part three + bonus + masterlist

author’s note:

+ The bonus drabbles are different than I originally planned, but i hope you like them REGARDLESS!!!

if you want to be tagged, please reply to this post!

@bbhmystar @itsmesa @yeolliedimple @uwukyungs00

Authors’s Note (Bonus Drabbles Below):

The idea came to me at the end of what I would unfortunately have to claim as a rather shitty day. It was late, I was tired, I remember that my hands were shaky and I could barely see or breathe. I didn't want anyone to hear me so I got in the shower, something that I've found is just easier. Moments like these can only go three different ways, I've found. The first is that I begin to blame myself, which I know isn't the best thing to do and I would recognize that if I could just think. The second is that I simply, or maybe not simply, stop— stop everything. The more numb, the better. The third thing, or option I suppose, is to stay calm and realize that everything is going to be okay. It always is eventually. Thankfully, I've been resorting to the third option more than the other two. This night was no exception either.

Showers, I think, have a magical power. They make you smell nice, they enable you to sing, and they help you think. Sometimes, though, they make me think too much. And so I found myself thinking, depressing really. I thought about everything I've gone through, everything my friends have gone through, everything my family has gone through, and I asked myself why. Why do we do the things we do even though we know there is really no other purpose than existing? I have never been one to become existential in my way of thinking, but at some point one does wonder if their life will mean anything in the long run.

Of course, I have no answers. I picture that the sky would laugh at us if it could. But while I was thinking, I did have one thought that has been lingering for quite some while. Although, I know deep inside of me that my life, or anyone else's for that fact, doesn't particularly matter, it makes me feel more me while in my skin to think that I could make some kind of difference to another person's life. To think that maybe they didn't have to feel as I did, that they could learn from my mistakes. It's a big assumption, I know. But if there is anything I want to do with my life, it would be to help people, because all in all, everyone needs someone to lean on.

This obviously isn't possible for me— to let everyone lean on my shoulder— but maybe instead I could do something else, something more personal, more solid, and more guiding than what my mere existence could provide. That's where writing enters, very dramatically I would imagine.

Reading to me has proven to become a singular savior, my favorite characters became best friends, their worlds like a secret backyard I could escape to when I felt unwelcome in my own home. I would see through their eyes and live a thousand lives. I felt from them, learned from them, grew from them. If I could somehow become that provider for others than I too could become happy, with myself and my life.

This story is merely a stepping stone, a singular moment explored and told. It doesn't even scratch the surface, but it makes it all worth it if even one of you understood, related, felt, learned from, smiled, laughed, cried. Any of those and it mattered, because the world is a place where all of that is running short.

I hope my readers know that life is more than those bad moments in the shower. That people are worth more than mean comments and hateful words. That times passes and things do get better. Life is what you make it, so make it worth it because there is only one of you and only one life to live.

Love a lot, everything if you can. Take risks, as long as you aren't harming others or yourself. Hug your family and best friends more often. Talk things out when you are angry; don't assume anything. Check on your strong friends. Drink more tea and take more baths. Don't forget that you can say NO. Don't forget that you are worth everything and that you are just as important as everyone else. Most importantly, don't stop struggling to find your happiness. Just like Seoyun says, "she's been climbing for a while, but that in itself is enough for her."

10 Months Later

“Are you sure you want this?”

“Baby.” Came Chanyeol’s concerned, but strong voice from the other side of the wall.

Seoyun was on the verge of ruining her makeup, if she hadn’t already, and her dress was so heavy she wasn’t sure anymore why she chose this one.

“Of co—”

Seoyun cut him off. “—I mean I want this, and I know there is no reason to panic, but I am and I’m so sorry because our wedding is literally in like thirty minutes, but Chan—”

Chanyeol cut her off. “—Take my hand.”

Huh? Came her confused reply. Only moments ago, had Chanyeol’s mom rushed from the bridal room like the world was ending when Seoyun burst into tears over a simple comment the makeup artist had mentioned about men getting cold feet.

His mom had promptly gotten Chanyeol and dragged a pitiful Seoyun from the floor like a suburban type superhero. She had forced him to stay on the other side of the hall before leaving them be, their backs less than a foot apart, yet separated through a thick layer of plaster and wood. Of course, Seoyun could simply step around the opening of the hallway, but then he would see her, and everyone knows that the groom seeing the bride before the wedding is bad luck.

But then a hand appeared from around the edge of the wall, his hand. Seoyun stared at it without moving for reason she wasn’t even sure of, her own shaky hand hesitantly coming out to wrap around his after careful deliberation.

There was silence when they met. And then a light twinkling feeling in the pit of her stomach began to bloom as his thumb rubbed soothing circles on her palm. She rolled her shoulders out and a deep breath was exhaled from her lips. Was that the feeling of relief, she wondered?

“Feel better?”

She almost felt ashamed to say yes, but she knew he understood with or without a wall between them.

“You know I’ve been ready for this since we both said I love you for the first time, because I do love you and I know without a worry of a doubt that you make me happy, and loved, and god Seoyun I thought last night in bed was confirmation enough… I mean I basically came so quic—”

“—Chanyeol!” Seoyun gasped, hitting what little of his arm she could see. “Your mom is just down the hall!”

“I mean I’m sure she knows we have se—”

Seoyun hit him again, but this time, she couldn’t help but let a few giggles slip from her mouth. “Last night was good,” she admitted.

“The best.”

Then they were both laughing, their quiet chuckles not as quiet as they thought they were, cascading down the halls and filling them both up with a giddy kind of love neither of them knew they were capable of. And when they died down, and only smiles remained, his hand was still in hers. Reassuring and so Chanyeol-like that she was beginning to wonder why she worried in the first place.

“So, you don’t have cold feet and you aren’t going to take one look at me walking up the steps and run?”

“Who even said that?”

Seoyun sighed, not wanting him to make a scene or be upset at a probably innocent make-up artist. “Just answer the question.”

“No baby, no cold feet.”

“Good,” came a familiar voice from Chanyeol’s side of the wall, “because the groom has to get to his place now.”

The best man, Baekhyun, popped his head around from where Chanyeol’s hand was, his bright smile comforting to Seoyun. “And I assume you have a few things to finish yourself before you officially get married. You look beautiful by the way,” he added around a kind eye smile.

“Hey,” Baekhyun was pulled forcefully from her sight, “if I can’t see her than you definitely can’t.” Chanyeol huffed.

Baekhyun was already egging him on, their hands separating as Chanyeol went to hit him again. “Too bad, so sad.”

Seoyun listened with a smile as the boy’s voices faded from her hearing until all that was left was her and her light heart.

She can do this, she’s sure of it.

2 Years Later

There were many things in life that Seoyun once thought she hated, but perhaps she was beginning to realize that they were merely things of her past that she thought were unhealable. And as she stared at them now, Chanyeol fast asleep on the couch, his mouth gapping open and their beautiful daughter wrapped tightly in his arms, her small fingers still stuck in a lock of his once silver hair turned naturally black, she knew that the things she loved in this world quite outshined the things she had still yet to heal from.

She found herself kneeling to sit beside them, her eyes roaming over her forever family with disbelief. Did she truly find happiness? Her heart knew the answer to that, and a delicate smile took over her face.

It had been two years since they married, seven since they met. It seemed, in a flip of a coin, that nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed. They looked somewhat the same, despite maybe a few shining hairs and a crease here and there, they still smiled the same though, hugged the same, loved the same. The world around them kept spinning, life went on, but she was sure now that they were forever.

It was then that Chanyeol’s eye cracked open to peer over at her. With no words, he simply leaned his head a little closer and pouted his lips out for a kiss. The act was easy, oh so easy, and so routine for her that she had almost forgotten how much she loved his tenderness; how the first thing he wanted when he woke was not to be left alone, not to seek out food or a shower, not even to wake their daughter, Boyoung, instead it was her— as simple and un-simple as that.

Her stomach erupted in a blossom of fluttering wings and a breeze so soft, she found herself guided back to him as if there was nothing more important to life than that. Their lips met, a soft pillowing of sleepy petals and she sighed at the taste of home.

“It’s almost the first, Chan,” she whispered into him. “You fell asleep yet another year.”

“It’s too hard to resist.” He mumbled back, his words like kindle being flamed to life. “Her soft snores always lull me to sleep.”

“And you’re getting old.” Seoyun smirked, which he flatly ignored in favor of his daughter, reaching down to grace her with a light kiss on her small forehead. She loved watching the two of them; Boyoung was just like him, her big eyes and goofy laugh, and you definitely couldn’t refute the mischievousness that oozed from her like a gift from her father.

“She has your sleeping habits for sure,” he remarked with a fond lift to his lips.

“She is a daddy’s girl.”

Chanyeol’s eyes sparked with that same twinkle of mischief and she knew he was inching to make some kind of crude remark, but before it could grace her ears, distant, but loud throes of rejoicing could be heard from outside.

It was midnight, and fireworks were cascading through the sky like shooting stars. They had made it another year together, and a full one year with their daughter.

Seoyun stood from beside them and padding gently to the window, peering out at the light show with wide eyes. It was snowing ever so slightly and the blue lights still hanging from Christmas made everything look bathed in a pure glow of halo. It was beautiful.

She felt Chanyeol’s form brush up behind her, and a small head fell gently onto her shoulder. Boyoung’s deep chocolate eyes, the same as Chanyeol’s, gazed into hers’ with a sleepy yawn and a huff from being woke up. She blinked slowly before drooping back into a peaceful sleep.

“Happy Birthday baby,” Seoyun whispered, eliciting a half-dreaming smile from her.

“And Happy New Year,” Chanyeol added, coming to wrap his arms around her waist.

The three of them stood as fireworks ushered in another year of love and healing and simply being together. She doesn’t think there was any room to hate within the little, but strong family they created.

There wasn’t anything else she could wish for.

thank you for reading

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sweetiejunie · 5 years ago

Note

idk if requests are open rn, but an angst/fluff soulmate au with Beomgyu would make me really happy. If requests aren’t open then it’s okay^^

—.✿ฺ—

Rewrite the stars

Summary: you weren’t meant to be together. And it freaked you out. But beomgyu? He’s always been your rock.

Genre: angst, fluff

Beomgyu x reader

A/n: huehue thanks for the request anonie!! First time i wrote a soulmate fic 🥴 but hope u enjoyed! I tried :’)

=====================================

The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. Beomgyu watched as you laid in his arms, staring at the red string tied around your pinky. He knew this was wrong. You weren’t supposed to be with him. But he loved you, and you loved him.

It was a fluke that the two of you met. It was a fluke that you fell for each other. But that faithful day he decided to ignore his instincts, was probably the best decision he’s ever made.

You hated that you lived in a world where ‘soulmates’ existed as a concept. You had always thought it was just a social construct, but you can’t ignore the disapproving looks you got while you walked down the streets hand-in-hand with the boy that wasn’t fated to be with you. Why couldn’t the thread be tied around his pinky instead of some stranger you haven’t met? Faith, and the universe, just had to be a bitch.

Beomgyu, on the other hand, he never cared. He loved you, and that was all that mattered to him. Who cares about what others thought about you? Everyone around him told him that it wasn’t right, but nothing ever convinced him. He swore to be by your side no matter what, and it was a promise he planned to keep. On the days when you started to doubt your relationship, he was there. On days when the harsh reality of society got to you, he was there. He was there with you through thick and thin.

“You’re overthinking about the piece of thread again,” he suddenly spoke, knocking you out of your dazed stated when he caught you playing with the string around your left pinky.

You blushed, hiding your hand in a fist as you apologised, “Im sorry.”

“No need to apologise, my love.”

Beomgyu truly was the sweetest. Through all your panic and doubt, he still chose to stay with you and never expected anything in return.

Even the time you almost broke up with him because of everything people were telling you. How you weren’t fated to last or how he was going to leave you once he met his real soulmate. After all this time, that day is still engraved deep in his mind, stuck with him like the plague. After all, the most painful memories are the hardest to forget — the day he almost lost you.

That evening, beomgyu invited you to dinner to meet his parents. You had been dating for a while now, and he thought it was the perfect time for the most important people in his life to finally meet. There was just one small catch, okay, a pretty big catch. Since you weren’t soulmates, his parents weren’t biggest fan of you.

“Why would you agree to that? You know your parents aren’t typically that fond of me. Now you want me to sit barely a feet away from them for, gods knows how many hours?”

“Come on y/n, don’t worry so much. It’ll be fine, and I’ll be with you the whole time, alright?” Beomgyu replied, pouting at you, hoping that tonight would be the night his parents saw just how loving and kind you were. He wanted so badly for you to get along, but that proved to be just a wish.

“Fine, only for you. But don’t you dare leave me.”

As the night went on, beomgyus parents didn’t do anything too out of the ordinary, asking the usual interrogating questions any parent would ask the significant other of their child. But through the night, you had half a mind that every now and then they would glare at you. Then again, you were extremely nervous, so it could have just been you overthinking or your overactive imagination. But the moment beomgyu had excused himself to use the washroom, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Ill just be a second,” he whispered to you as he pushed he chair back.

The moment he was out of sight, his mother spoke, “listen, y/n. I’m going to be frank with you. I think you’re a really nice girl, but i want you to leave beomgyu,” venom evident in every word.

Her statement caught you off guard, and the only respond your brain could process was, “huh?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s clear that you two are not meant to be together. After-all, you aren’t soulmates. No amount of love can fix or change that.” She paused, only to continue when you didn’t reply, “and i just want the best for beomgyu. I’m sure you do too. One day, I want him to be able to find true love without being held back by anything... or anyone.”

Her words rang in your head over and over again. Were you really just a burden to beomgyu? Was he really going to leave you one of these days?

“I- er- Excuse me. Sorry, i have to go. Ill see myself out,” you stated, your head hung low as you hurried to gather your thing. “ Thank you for the dinner.”

You made your way to the front door, clicking it shut behind you. Ignoring the sound of the bathroom door opening and beomgyu’s voice as he called your name. Worried, confused, maybe even desperate. In the minute he left, his entire world had come crashing down in front him.

“What on earth did you say to her?!” He yelled at his parents. But before they could answer, he was sprinting out the door after you.

“Y/n!” He called out, running towards you. “Wait! Please!”

He reached out to grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. When you turned to face him, the tears running down your face were bullets to his heart.

“They’re small minded people,” he began, grabbing your hands, holding them tightly. “Why do you care what they think-”

“It’s not just them,” you interrupted. “It’s everyone.”

“Not me,” his expression soften when he realised you were starting to sob harder. His thumbs running over to back your hands assuringly.

“It may not be written in stone,” he said, referring to the thread tied around his own pinky. “But i know you’re meant to be mine.”

“Beomgyu...” you trailed off. You hated how fate made you question your future with him. You hated how you always put beomgyu in that position. But you couldn’t help it. “No one ever looked at you the way your parents looked at me. But they’re right, you and i, this isn’t meant to happen. Eventually, you would find your true soulmate. Isn’t it better we end it now, before it’s too late and one of us ends up getting hurt?”

He stood there, staring into your eyes. His grip on your hands never faulted, afraid that if let you go, he’ll never see you again. A millions thoughts ran through his head, but all of them wasn’t the right thing to say. All, expect one.

“I- i love you,” he chocked out.

“Beomgyu...“

“No, don’t. I can see it in your eyes that you love me too. Isn’t that enough? I promised to be by your side. What matters the most is what we think. And we love each other, thats more than what others can ever say about us. Just because this stupid string says we’re not supposed to be together, doesn’t mean we can’t still write out own ending. Don’t leave me, please.”

“But beomgyu, they’re your parents.”

“I dont give a shit. If they can’t accept me and whatever and whoever i love then... then that’s their problem.”

You couldn’t speak, chocking on your sobs as you looked into his eyes. You pulled him in for a hug, and that was all the response he needed before hugging you back.

Bringing himself back to the present, he smiled, admiring the sight in front of him as you stared up at the clouds. Since that day, the road with you was no where near a smooth ride. But from the moment he saw you, he knew that you may not be fated to be with him, but he had to love you with everything he had, for as long as he can.

The journey to be with you may have been long and difficult, but he was glad it was so tough. Cause if he hadn’t gone through hell to get there, he might not have learnt the lessons he did. And he would carry those lessons with him. He loved you through all the hard times, every stupid fight, every pang of jealousy or boredom or uncertainty that came your way. And he would continue to do that, until the very end. Admittedly, beomgyu didn’t know what the futures holds for either of you. But he knew that it included you.

=====================================

Hope you liked this! Not completely happy with this but thought it was still worth posting. I tried ㅠㅠ

Masterlist

#thanks for the request!#txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt au #txt reactions #txt post #txt x reader #beomgyu reactions #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fluff

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boughtwithaprice · 4 years ago

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I Kissed His Books Goodbye

Kae Salonzo Perez- Dilla

April 30, 2021

It was in 2019 when one of my favorite Christian authors shocked the Christian world by announcing his separation from his wife. It was Joshua Harris, the famous author and pastor who wrote, "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" and "Boy Meets Girl" which sold millions of copies since their publication in the 90s and made him like a Christian celebrity. I was totally heartbroken when this news popped on my IG feed. A year before this devastating news, I came across Joshua Harris on Facebook and YouTube where I learned about his recent project at that time which is also the reasn why he resurfaced. He was on some documentary film of some sort where he reevaluated his very own books mentioned earlier. I have also watched his TED Ed segment where he apologized for the lives destroyed by his book. He said that he was too young when he wrote his famous books. I was puzzled at that time which led me to do more research a.k.a stalking. I am a good stalker, you know. Kidding aside! So, from there, I started stalking the Harris couple on their social media accounts. I will not forget feeling that something was already off from their relationship since they are both absent from each other's daily activities. I do not know if that is just normal with other people but to me, it isn’t. Also, it struck me that Shannon and the Harris daughters "appear" to be highly modern and very much "in the trend" kind of way when it comes to their clothes, music, and social media posts. Given that they are in the limelight of conservative believers, this is a diversion. I was not a diehard fan of Joshua Harris and so I do not really know what happened to him after writing his books, after getting married to the girl of his prayers, and after pastoring a mega church for 17 years. However, I suddenly recalled an information he disclosed in one of his books. It was about Shannon whose inches close to starting her music career but then converted to her newfound faith and so this dream career of hers was aborted. This, I strongly recalled when I found lots of her IG post informing the world that she is about to release her music albums -which her songs don’t have the slightest expression of her love for God. For a preacher’s wife, for a Christian woman, so to speak, her recent project gave me another major what-in-the-world-is-happening moment. These findings surprised me! That's why I'm not really taken aback when Joshua Harris announced that he and his wife, Shannon, are eventually divorcing. Perhaps something bigger is afoot since then.

I know I am very late to make a fuss about Joshua Harris and his chosen path today, but I just want to express my thoughts since I kept seeing him lately. I was instantly reminded that I followed him on IG! And now I think about unfollowing him so I would be free from another stress. So, following his separation from his wife in 2019, more of his announcements on the social media just got more terrible as time pass by. He then denounced his Christian faith and joined an LGBTQ parade publicly. What worst could happen now? He has been posting his personal criticism on “Christianity" and against people "in the faith" with the notion of man's freedom being suppressed by God's will. He makes obedience to God appear so vexing and that it’s the very thing that stifle man from enjoying earthly pleasures. He just twisted the truth about ‘love the sinner but hate the sin’. God is angry at the wicked every day and so we were all once hated by God until he shows us His grace (Psalms 7: 11). But tolerating a sinner could never equate to any form of love. Unless man sees himself as a sinner, he will never repent and seek God. Harris has numerous posts about this particular topic! As I see it, one could assume that it is his way of answering back to the spiteful comments he keeps on receiving from the Christian group. He’s making the believers look like a group of unbelievable people for hurting him with God’s truths. The truth will surely hurt him.

There is no denying of the fact that Joshua Harris is still a hot issue among Christians today. Every time Christians talk about relationships, Joshua and his books are brought into place. Before the declaration of his newfound path away from Christ, his books were said to be the "Bible" of Christian romance. Decades ago, Joshua and his books were often referred to when Christians tend to look for godly relationships to pattern theirs. I personally and seriously took note of the contents of his books since I was in a relationship when I read them back then. Just like the other Harris loyalists, I would always mention his name and the things I have learned from his books when giving advice to my friends both in and out of the church during girl talks. It's such a shame that I have to evaluate my old self and admit that I have passed onto others the words of Harris more than God's. This, I humbly ask forgiveness from the Lord. And so, fast forward to the present time, look at how events have turned now. No one knows what really happened between Joshua and Shannon, but I'm pretty sure that whatever hit their relationship is a reflection of their individual relationship with God which have finally come in fruition in time. The book of Jeremiah says in chapter 7 verse 24, But they hearkened not, nor inclined their ear, but walked in the counsels and in the imagination of their evil heart, and went backward, and not forward. Whilst spending years and years of their life in the ministry, I could not help but wonder, was God really there "in" them? Frankly, although no man is in the position, it’s hard not to question their salvation thinking about what happened to them.

Joshua Harris have said in an interview that he excommunicated himself from his church because he failed to follow the standards required by the scriptures. In his words, he sounded like he was the victim more than the traitor. To add, one of his videos on YouTube showed live reactions from the offended readers of his books. I personally think that was a clear picture answering the question of why he ended up retracting his beliefs in public. He responded to those people in oppose to what Christians should be doing when being persecuted. He wanted to please them so bad to the point where he just decided to abandon his post, leave his God or god and follow them as if that was the best decision to reach out to them. His mindset is just so disappointing. At some point, did he blame God for earning his haters? Is that why he went after people he doesn’t personally know and has no relationship with God? Was he supposed to reevaluate through the Bible or through people’s lenses? How many were Christians in that pool of readers? It was just necessary to apologize for the wrong points that resulted to misguided readers, but why leave the faith? It’s true that it takes lots of courage to face the music but I don’t see the part where leaving your faith is a new definition of bravery.

When a Christian is found to be challenged, he ought to thrive. What happened to standing fast in the faith written in 1 Corinthians 16:13? But instead, Joshua Harris allowed the enemy to overpower him. He heard the wrong side. Well, to start with, he's probably not a genuine Christian. We don't want to judge him but again, we have been warned in Ephesians 4:14 That we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive; A Youtuber also commented that a Christian should never find his life in the Lord burdensome. Sadly, Harris has put down his cross, got tired and stopped following the Savior. A believer's walk with Christ was never promised to go through an easy road but we will always find ourselves consistently rejoicing in His grace despite the way. Otherwise, those who are just pretending to understand the gospel will soon be revealed and will simply walk away because they were not meant to be in the fold of Christ in the first place.

Just recently, not only Harris have denounced his faith in Christ. There were others. Although this is not new anymore because there were others even before Harris’s time, but in this age of social media, issues like this have great impact in the Christian society perceived in various wavelength. And this case has left Christiandom a question-- what do we do with the learnings gained from such persons? It is fitting to know where the line should be drawn when reading Christian books. The Lord has commanded us to daily seek Him in prayer and in the scriptures. Even the prophets enquired and searched diligently (1 Peter 1: 10). Hence, to check if the materials we read carry God’s truth in them, they must be aligned to what the Bible says. God’s words should affirm the ideas being offered to us by other books whether they appear new or not. I believe that the things I learned from Joshua’s books really helped me assess my former relationship and double check if it indeed glorifies the Lord. But I do not give credit to the author because most of the concepts of the godly dating he presented were extracted from the Bible and were inspired by the people around him that were ‘in Christ’, and Lord willing, still walking with Him until now. Joshua Harris have miserably left his once professed faith and no wonder when ‘his followers’ do the same too. The Lord only revealed the impending danger of following leaders and prominent individuals with such devotion that should only belong to God. We should be vigilant and be fully aware of where and with whom do we pour our faith into. 2 Peter 3:17, KJV: "Ye therefore, beloved, seeing ye know these things before, beware lest ye also, being led away with the error of the wicked, fall from your own steadfastness."

The books written by Joshua Harris have heavily influenced his Christian readers. However, more than those pages that illuminated his beliefs before, what would really speak for himself is the life he chose to live today. I have kissed dating goodbye long time ago, not because of his books, but because God has been gracious to me and provided me a godly man to marry. I won’t recommend Joshua’s books but I will be keeping them. If people see them on my shelf one day, I know significant lessons could be drawn from them --more than courtship and dating, but particularly about a Christian’s walk with Christ.

We are in the end times and we are witnessing the falling away of man as said in 2 Thessalonians 2:3. But by God’s grace, His true children will persevere until His glorious return. The sad story of Joshua Harris just proved that our God is a perfect God who is solely worthy of receiving man’s adoration and trust. Not that He needs any of it, but it’s just crystal clear that no one else does. And that no earthly relationship should we model ours after except that of Christ and His love for the church which we could learn nowhere else but from the scriptures.

Isaiah 40:25-31

To whom then will ye liken me, or shall I be equal? saith the Holy One.

Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things, that bringeth out their host by number: he calleth them all by names by the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in power; not one faileth.

Why sayest thou, O Jacob, and speakest, O Israel, My way is hid from the LORD, and my judgment is passed over from my God?

Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding.

He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.

Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall:

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

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