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Maybe a part 2 of the arcane characters saying things they regret, but they're apologizing because I can't live after reading a angst 🫠
Making up with Arcane characters after a bad argument. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader
(Previous part)
Fine, fine, here is a happy part two guys. Take it as an apology for the tears and pain I've caused.✨️
Content: Swearing, accusations of cheating, slight angst, making up, fluff, potential spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!
((Not proofread))
》VI
She knew that she had fucked up. There was no way to deny or refute it either. And your absence was further proof of that.
You were always there for her, even when things got bad and she became even worse. No matter how much she yelled or drank, you were there afterward to nurture her back to health. It was so unfair of her to expect it still, after all she had said to you. She hated herself. She hated how weak and pathetic she had become. How she can't even stand straight anymore from the alcohol and couldn't win a single game since she had lost you.
And instead of Caitlyn haunting her like she used to, it was only you now. But you were crying every time. Asking her why she hated you so much. Why she couldn't care for you the way you cared for her. Why you were always the second choice despite having been there since the start.
Why, why, why.
Gritting her teeth against the headache, she made her way through the dark, familiar lanes to your small home that you once shared together. She had to talk to you. She really, really had to. Even if it's far too late now after a week of silence in-between the two of you. She had taken the time to reflect and think about everything, especially about your relationship. And it made her realise that nothing in this world was losing you too.
Knocking on your door, she nervously waited as she heard your footsteps quickly approaching her from inside. You opened the door carefully, ironically just how she had taught you, before freezing at the sight of her. She gave you a weak smile, attempting to look calm and friendly, but it still scared you off. "Hey cupca-" You tried slamming the door into her face mid greeting, but her foot was faster to jam itself in the way.
"H-Hey! Wait, please hear me out!" "Fuck off, Vi. I'm not in the mood to hear more of your bullshit. Go back to Caitlyn since I know how badly you want that!" You never cursed, and every word you spoke made her flinch. She, for some reason, didn't expect you to be this mad. But it hurt, and she deserved it. Another thing she underestimated was, unfortunately, your strength since you somehow managed to push her away and shut the door again. "Come on! Please! I... I didn't mean what I said. I just... have been losing my shit ever since what happened. The guilt is killing me, and I know it's not an excuse! You're right, I have to stop this shit! You're right, I need to stop treating your love for granted!"
She didn't know if you were even listening to her anymore, but it didn't stop the tears that burned in her eyes. "I don't give a damn about Caitlyn like that! I never did! It always you for me. You... you cared for me when no one else ever wanted to, and I was such an idiot for not appreciating it more." Her hand slammed against the wood in defeat, her head coming to rest against it as her body trembled. She was so scared of losing you. This can't be the end. "Please. Please just give me another chance to prove myself. I know I'm a fuck up but I swear I'll do better now."
Vi nearly fell right through your house entrance when you opened the door wide with a teary huff. "God, you're such an idiot... get in already before the neighbors complain." You didn't let her reply as you simply dragged her inside and locked the door again. The pitfighter watched you do so with a gentle gaze, one that felt so familiar to you. "... Fine, I'll give you another chance... but no drinking or fighting anymore. Please." You whisper to her, and she nods quickly before engulfing you in a warm hug.
She knows that she isn't fully forgiven yet, but she'll do everything in her power to prove herself worthy of your love again.
》CAITLYN
"You're still up." Caitlyn's voice was calm and gentle now, so different from the stern and cold tone it had before. You ignored her, however, knowing better than to fall for this again. She always got like this when she knew she had screwed up and was trying to crawl back into your good graces. But this time around, you didn't allow it that easily. You refused to speak to her if she hadn't come back to apologize. And yet... you couldn't help but allow yourself at least one sharp dig at her. "And you're late to bed once again. But I suppose Officer Nolan's 'report' was just that interesting, no?" You were perhaps the only person in all auf Pultover that could ever accuse her of something so scandalous as adultery and get away with it.
It certainly would have been amusing if Caitlyn didn't feel so sick at the thought of you believing that.
Sighing, she placed her hat onto a clothing hanger, her jacket following suit. You were facing away from her on the bed, trying to read a book and rest, despite the pain in your heart. It was hard being angry at her when you loved her so deeply. But her insults had struck much deeper than that.
The bed dipped behind you, and soon enough, you felt her strong arms surrounding your body and her nose tickling your cheek. "I'm sorry, my love. I really am. I... have lost my cool, and that was wrong of me." You scoffed at her words, finding them too shallow for the pain she had caused earlier. Yet you struggled to get out of her strong grasp on you. It felt desperate. And you hated the warmth and security that it made you feel. "If that is all you have to say, then you can leave." You hissed out weakly but couldn't find any malice in it. Just heartbreak, that solidified in more tears burning in your eyes. "Because how... how could you ever say that I could betray you? Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you care?"
Caitlyn hummed against the nape of your neck soothingly, a way to acknowledge the plight she had caused you without revealing her own tears. The grief had made her into a monster. A monster that hurt its friends, family, and most importantly, you. It was unforgivable, and yet she wanted to prove herself worthy of you anyway. She wanted to show you that she hadn't changed deep down like everyone claimed. She was still yours.
"... I will find a way to end this war and resolve it peacefully as soon as I can. I swear it to you." She began, her voice low and gentle, as she listened to the sound of your hiccups and sniffling. This wasn't what she wanted. "And I apologize, truly, for what I called you... I know that you are loyal and trustworthy. Much more than I ever could be... I'm still your Caitlyn." The last part was whispered quietly, as she tried everyone in her power to not break down in front of you like this.
She hated what she had become deep down. She knew it was wrong and that her mother must've been turning in her grave at the sight of what she had done. But what she couldn't handle at all was you hating and leaving her.
There was a moment of silence before you turned to face her and immideatly hugged her impossibly close as you cried into her arms. She rubbed your back lovingly, understanding that this was your way of accepting her apology. But forgiveness will still be a long journey she was willing to take.
For now, she'd rest in your embrace thankfully.
》JINX
Deep down, you knew that she didn't mean what she said. She never would do anything to hurt you. Silco's death was just killing her more than anyone could have expected, and it was hard for everyone to deal with. But you just couldn't take the pain and hurt she caused you anymore. You've been there since day one. You were always at her side. You always took care of her when no one else wanted to. And you understood her better than she did herself. But it was ultimately just not enough. Or so you thought.
The young girl that was now dragging you through the lanes reminded you of her too. She didn't speak a word to you, and for some reason, you didn't have it in you to protest against her odd actions either. She somehow seemed to recognize you the second you bumped into her. And that was enough for her to take your hand and lead you to a very familiar hideout. Perhaps it was fate that brought you here again when you needed Jinx the most.
"Hey kid, who's our little guest-?" The rest of the young woman's words died on her tongue, and it left you simply staring at each other. There was a familiar haze in her eyes, one that you often saw when the voices were taking over. She once mentioned that you sometimes became a part of her hallucinations during longer absences, and that reminder alone made your heart ache. You shouldn't have run away that day. But what other choice did you have? She didn't trust you anymore. She didn't think you should be together anymore. Why were you even here?
"S-sorry... I'm just going to leave..." You muttered as your ears rung and that familiar burning in your eyes made your sight blurry. You felt suffocated and somehow also angry, wishing she could just see how much you loved and cared for her. But just as you were turning away to run again, her strong hand was quicker and held you back by your arm. "Wait. Let's just... talk, alright? Like we always do?" That was your thing. Whenever things got bad, you'd sit down and talk calmly to her about it. She used to scoff at it every time... yet she was the one who suggested now for once. Something about it shook you so hard that it made the first tears finally spill at the recognition she had given you for all the work you've put into her.
Jinx panicked a little at that, unsure of how to comfort you, yet at Isha's stern frown and cross of her small arms, she just hugged you for the first time in a while. And god, did she miss it.
Perhaps it was good to show the little girl a picture of you after all.
"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I swear, sweetie! I... I won't ever say stuff like that again. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I just, I was just-" You hushed her by just hugging her tighter and shaking your head. "It's okay... just hold me for a while. We can talk later... I missed you so much." You whispered, voice breaking into sobs. Jinx hummed weakly and sighed against your hair, the familiar scent making her relax and feel better at last.
Isha grinned to herself behind you before quickly sneaking off to let you talk things out.
》EKKO
To say that the entire firelight hideout was pissed at him would be an understatement. Absolutely everyone disagreed with the way he treated you, and the side eyes he got very much confirmed this. But the worst part of it all was definitely you avoiding him like the plague.
Every time he entered a room, you were the first one to leave in a hurry. Every time he tried speaking to you, you either ignored him or found an excuse to get away. Every time someone even mentioned his name to you, your mood seemed to dampen. And that hurt so much that it killed him. This isn't how he wanted you to feel about him. He was your boyfriend, damnit it. Yet he acknowledged that he was failing at his job way more than he should've allowed himself to. He had to fix this somehow.
Ekko couldn't just lose you over his own foolishness. You were the one person who motivated him to keep going even on his worst days. You were the light he fought for. The person he battled to come home to every day. He couldn't handle your absence any longer, especially at night when he laid wide awake in your empty bed without you.
And so, he finally had enough and cornered you one night up in the tree during a patrol you had together. One, he definitely didn't pull the strings for to happen. And ever the one to abide by his orders despite your current dismay, you were now avoiding his gaze whilst you watched your sleeping home below. It was peaceful and calm, but the pain lingered between you two too much to enjoy the moment. He didn't know how to break the deafening silence, and it made him think of backing out on his initial plan... until you surprised him by speaking up first.
"I'm... sorry for avoiding you. I didn't mean for this to become your last resort. I just... didn't want to be a burden anymore." "Wait, wait, wait... who said that you were a burden, I... I should be the one apologizing right now. Because I was wrong about every fucking thing I said to you." The words spilled out in panic at the mere thought of you blaming yourself. He never wanted you to feel like this. It made him feel even worse about himself. This wasn't right. "You're not useless. You do so much for us, for me, and I take it all for granted like the asshole I am! And I fully acknowledge that now... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. There is no excuse for it." He shook his head in disappointment at himself, wondering if this was it now. He'd understand if you broke up with him now... but instead, you seemed to be in the mood to surprise him alot today.
"Did you... like the food I made you?" He blinked at your question in confusion, yet answered honestly. "Best thing I had all week." "Then I guess I'll forgive you... just don't do that again." Ekko chuckled weakly at your words, relief filling his senses whilst he pulled you close to press a kiss to your head. "Would never dream of it... wanna ditch patrol and fly around town?" You mirrored his sly smile, glad he had the same thing on his mind as you did. "Sure thing. But let's make it a race."
He let you win.
》SEVIKA
She took some time to cool off after your argument and returned later into the night with a clearer mind. Sevika had actually reflected on what you had said to her, and she knew you were ultimately right. She was extremely overprotective and stubborn, two things that didn't mesh well and often ended in her thinking you couldn't take care of yourself. Even if she knew better than to actually believe that.
You were strong, especially mentally. It's what drew her into you to begin with. But with the fall of Silco and a war being on the verge of breaking out against Piltover, she had no choice but to make sure that you never left her sight. And if you did, then you had to be somewhere she knew was safe and away from all the chaos she dealt with daily. It helped her focus and stay calm to know that you're okay. Yet despite how much she cared, she still fucked it all up for herself again.
And now she had to fix it, something she was never good at.
She felt awfully guilty at the sight of the things you've lovingly prepared for her, now laying forgotten and cold on the kitchen counter. She truly didn't deserve someone as kind as you. And yet she considered herself too selfish to let you go.
Slowly approaching the bedroom door, she paused to hear if you were awake or not. Unfortunately, you were, but she only knew this from the faintest sound of your sniffling and sobbing that drifted through the wooden door. Sighing to herself, she knocked once, deciding to just rake things slow and as calmly as possible. You had sustained an injury after all, and her mind was reeling at the thought of it getting worse without any proper care. "What do you want?!" Your weak voice yelled at her, and it made her frown. Yeah, you were definitely beyond pissed.
"I want to talk." Her gruff voice said, and it may have sounded like a demand if the underlying care and worry didn't overshadow it so clearly. Your silence made her initially think you were ignoring her until the door slowly opened and revealed your disheveled form. "... well, go ahead." You muttered, one hand cradling the side of your hip that was clumsily bandaged up by you. You were never good at stuff like that.
"Let me take care of the wound whilst we're at it. Can't have ya dying on me because of an infection." She sighed out before simply dragging you to your shared bed and pulling out your medkit. You didn't protest or complain and let her do as she pleased, whilst you carefully listened to her speak with an unreadable expression.
"Listen. I... get it. I really do. The way I treat you isn't right, and I know you're grown enough to take care of yourself, but... I can't risk losing you too now. It drives me crazy to think about. Even if that ain't much of an excuse, and I get that too." She was never this honest before. Usually, she simply deflected or blamed someone else. But here she was, for once admitting openly to being the problem. "Just... be more careful out there. That's all I ask of you. I won't comment on it otherwise anymore though, unless you're in serious danger. I promise." Finishing the last of her bandaging, she hummed at it now looking much securer. This way, you are sure to recover much faster.
Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head at her words, deciding to give her another chance to prove herself. You understood where she was coming from after all. "Okay, fine. I'll accept your apology... if you help me cook." She grinned at that slightly with a casual shrug. "Fine by me, if I get a taste of your heavenly cooking, sweetheart."
#arcane#arcane x genderneutral reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane x reader#arcane vi#arcane vi x reader#vi#vi x reader#arcane caitlyn#arcane caitlyn x reader#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn#caitlyn kiramman#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx x reader#jinx#arcane ekko#arcane ekko x reader#ekko#ekko x reader#arcane sevika#arcane sevika x reader#sevika#sevika x reader#pitfighter vi
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Soft Spot — Rafe Cameron
Requested by @a-j-stuffs
Summary: One wild summer night, a bonfire turns intense, shaking up the dynamic between you and your lifelong friend, Rafe Cameron. When things get out of hand, emotions spill over, and the bond you’ve always shared starts to feel… different. As you deal with the fallout, layers you didn’t know existed start peeling back, showing a side of Rafe you hadn’t fully seen before. It’s a mix of fear, loyalty, and something deeper brewing under the surface. What happens next makes you question everything about where the two of you really stand.
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader
Warnings: profanities, violence, implied smut
The rivalry between the Kooks and Pogues was just part of life on the Outer Banks, but you had always thought it was ridiculous. Growing up as part of the Figure Eight elite came with its own perks and pressures, but you never saw yourself as better than anyone else. That mindset earned you side-eyes from both Kooks and Pogues, though you didn’t care much—especially now that Sarah Cameron’s relationship with John B had brought you closer to the so-called enemy.
Still, your longest friendships were with the boys you grew up with—Rafe Cameron, Topper Thornton, and Kelce. The trio had been a constant in your life since childhood. Even with their egos and bad decisions, you knew they had your back. Rafe especially had always been different with you. Your families were close, and that bond extended to the two of you. Beneath his rough edges and impulsive nature, Rafe was someone you trusted—a boy who seemed to turn into a better version of himself when you were around.
Tonight’s bonfire was supposed to be a distraction. The kind of wild, chaotic gathering where the lines between Kooks and Pogues blurred just enough for everyone to coexist. Sarah had convinced you to come, promising she’d stick by your side.
“Just an hour,” she’d said, grinning as she grabbed your hand and led you toward the glowing fire.
But Sarah had a habit of getting caught up in her own world, and the moment John B arrived, she was gone. You didn’t mind at first. The air was warm, the music loud, and the fire crackled against the night sky. It was the kind of summer night that should have felt perfect.
Until he showed up.
The man wasn’t someone you recognized—tall, with a rough edge to his features and a sloppiness to his movements that screamed drunk. His clothes were Kook-preppy, but his demeanor was far from charming.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he slurred, his grin too wide as he stepped into your space. “Why’re you standing here all alone?”
You took a small step back, clutching your red Solo cup tighter. “I’m not alone,” you said evenly. “Just waiting for someone.”
“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asked, swaying slightly but still managing to block your path.
You glanced around the crowd, hoping to spot someone—anyone—familiar. “My friends,” you lied.
His grin twisted, and he leaned closer, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath. “C’mon, don’t play hard to get. You don’t have to pretend.”
“I’m not interested,” you said firmly, trying to step around him, but he grabbed your arm before you could.
His grip was rough, and it made your stomach drop. “Don’t be like that,” he said, his voice darkening. “You’re too pretty to be so cold.”
Your chest tightened. “Let go of me.”
The man didn’t listen. Instead, he tightened his grip and pulled you closer, his other hand brushing against your shoulder. “Relax, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
The lie shattered the moment he yanked you hard, his fingers digging into your arm. You stumbled, the pain sharp enough to make you cry out.
“Stop!” you said, your voice cracking, but he ignored you.
The panic surged like a tidal wave, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. You tried to twist out of his grip, but he was too strong. His hand moved to your waist, and fear turned your legs to jelly.
“HEY!”
The shout came from behind you, and the man froze. You turned your head just enough to see Topper running toward you, his face a mix of shock and fury.
“Get your hands off her!” Topper bellowed, closing the distance in seconds.
The man released you abruptly, his grip leaving your arm throbbing. You stumbled backward, nearly falling before Topper caught you.
“Stay here,” Topper said, his voice tight with anger as he turned and bolted back toward the fire.
Moments later, Rafe appeared, his eyes scanning the scene. When they landed on you, his expression changed. The anger in his face turned cold, deadly.
“Who?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
You didn’t have to say anything. Rafe’s gaze shifted to the man, who was already trying to slink back into the crowd. Without another word, Rafe stormed toward him, his entire body radiating fury.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rafe growled, shoving the man hard.
The stranger stumbled, muttering something incoherent before straightening up. “It’s not a big deal, man,” he slurred. “She’s just being a prude.”
The words barely left his mouth before Rafe swung. His fist connected with the man’s jaw, the force sending him to the ground.
“Rafe, stop!” you screamed, your voice breaking, but he didn’t hear you.
Rafe was on top of him, fists flying in a blur of rage. Each punch landed with a sickening crack, blood splattering against the sand.
“She said no!” Rafe roared, his voice shaking with fury.
It took both Topper and Kelce to pull him off. Even then, Rafe fought against their grip, his chest heaving and his knuckles coated in blood.
The man groaned, clutching his face as he lay motionless in the sand.
“Let’s get out of here,” Topper muttered, pulling Rafe back as Kelce threw an arm around your shoulders protectively.
The four of you left the bonfire behind, the chaos fading as you walked toward the quieter part of the beach.
Rafe finally turned to you, his expression softening as he saw the tears in your eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and rough.
You nodded, but the truth was written all over your face. Your hands were still shaking, your arm throbbing where the man had grabbed you. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered.
Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Yes, I did. He hurt you. He scared you.”
You didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead, you reached for his hand, wincing at the sight of his split knuckles. “You’re hurt,” you murmured, your voice trembling.
“It’s nothing,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away as you dabbed at the blood with a tissue.
“Let’s go.” He intertwines his hand with yours and leads you to your car.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The walk back to your car was silent, tension weaving itself between you and Rafe. Topper and Kelce had disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving just the two of you under the soft glow of the moon. The waves crashed gently in the background, but the sound did little to calm your nerves.
Rafe had barely spoken since leaving the bonfire, his knuckles still bloodied from the fight. Every few steps, you stole a glance at him, the hard line of his jaw and the storm brewing behind his blue eyes making your stomach twist.
You reached your car and hesitated, fumbling with your keys. “Rafe, let me drive you home,” you offered softly.
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“What do you mean, ‘not yet’?” you asked, glancing up at him.
“I’m not leaving you alone tonight,” he said firmly, his voice low but resolute.
You didn’t have the energy to argue. Nodding, you unlocked the car, and the two of you climbed in. The silence followed you the whole drive to your house, broken only by the occasional deep breath Rafe took to calm himself.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The drive to your house was quiet, the tension between you and Rafe thick enough to cut with a knife. His hands, bloodied and bruised, rested on his lap as he stared out the window, his jaw clenched tight. You wanted to say something, but the words caught in your throat every time you opened your mouth.
When you finally reached your place, you parked the car and turned to him. “Come inside,” you said softly.
Rafe hesitated, his gaze flicking to you before nodding. “Okay.”
The house was dark and still, the only sound the faint creak of the floorboards as you led him to the living room. You flicked on a small lamp, casting a warm glow over the room, and gestured for him to sit on the couch.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, but you gave him a look that stopped him in his tracks.
“Sit,” you repeated, your tone leaving no room for argument.
With a reluctant sigh, Rafe sat down, leaning back against the cushions as you disappeared into the bathroom. When you returned with the first aid kit, his eyes softened just a little, the hard edges of his expression giving way to something gentler.
You knelt in front of him, taking his hand carefully in yours. His knuckles were split and raw, and blood smeared across his skin like war paint. “This is going to sting,” you warned, dabbing a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic against the wounds.
Rafe flinched slightly but said nothing, his eyes fixed on you as you worked. The silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“Why do you always do this?” you asked quietly, breaking the stillness.
“Do what?”
“Fight. Lose your temper. Get yourself hurt.” Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the emotions you were trying to keep in check.
Rafe exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping. “Because I have to,” he said finally, his voice low.
“You don’t have to,” you argued, meeting his gaze. “You choose to. But why?”
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he sighed, his eyes softening as they locked with yours.
“Because it’s you,” he said simply. “You’re the only one who makes me feel like I’m not completely fucked up.”
Your breath hitched at his words, your chest tightening as you tried to process them. “Rafe…”
“You’re the only good thing in my life,” he continued, his voice raw. “And I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you. Not ever.”
The vulnerability in his voice broke something in you. For years, you’d seen glimpses of the real Rafe—the one who hid behind bravado and anger—but hearing him lay it all out like this was overwhelming.
“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his hand reaching up to cup your face. “Just let me…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but you didn’t need him to. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if he was giving you time to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his chest as the kiss deepened.
The air between you crackled with a tension that had been building for years, a mix of desire, anger, and unspoken emotions. Rafe’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the nerves buzzing under your skin.
Rafe’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile before he kissed you again, his hands tightening around you as he guided you onto the couch. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you tangled together in the soft glow of the lamplight, the unspoken promise of something more lingering in the air.
© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks x reader#obx#obx x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron request#rafe cameron season 4#drew starkey fanfiction
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DID YOU LIKE HER IN THE MORNING ?
[ masterlist / requests closed ]
☽。⋆ distance can lead to stupid, reckless decisions. but lando knows better than that, right? — lando norris x reader based on “did you like her in the morning” by nikki
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst 𝄞 1.7k words
You loved a loud life just the same as he did. You enjoyed the traveling, the partying, the sleepless nights, hell, even the stressful nights you wouldn’t trade for a peaceful, quiet, boring, normal life. You were eternally grateful for having a job surrounding the same tracks Lando is driving on, even if that was rather a lucky coincidence instead of a thought-through plan.
You loved it not only because it meant you’d get to be close to your boyfriend most of the time, more so because you got to experience the loudness with him. The parties, the race weekends, just everything. You’d have it without him too, and no doubt, you would have tons of fun doing so, but of course it’s better with a “super cool hot famous boyfriend” by your side, as he liked to call himself.
You loved it, until you couldn’t anymore.
Not as dramatic as it sounds. You were invited to a wedding of an old friend back at home, and Lando, for obvious reasons, couldn’t attend with you, so you flew out the country by yourself, giving Lando one last good luck kiss a few days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix. You missed him dearly, but you also missed your friends at home whom you haven’t seen in what felt like forever, and really, what’s a better reason for a reunion than a wedding?
But that’s where the trouble began.
You liked to call yourself independent. Very independent, even. You didn’t have a problem with being far from Lando for a few weeks, and while you of course loved him more than anyone else in this world, you’ve stated before that in case of you losing the job for whatever reason or if you just couldn’t travel with him anymore, you’d think a long distance relationship would work just well. At least for you.
Of course, the constant missing your partner would complicate things, but that’s still no reason to break up a relationship that has lasted for longer than three years already. At least that’s what you thought.
Lando liked to call himself independent too. Very independent, even. Too bad it’s all a lie.
Lando has always hated the idea of being away from you, or rather the idea of you being far from him. It’s not like he didn’t have any trust in you, it’s just become normal for him to always have you at least somewhat in his reach. That’s how your relationship has always been, you were coworkers before you were lovers.
He didn’t mind you taking a few days off. He also didn’t mind you wanting to spend some time with your family and friends who were still located far, far away from wherever you two would usually have to travel to for the many races. However, he did mind you not being near him.
It bothered him more than he’d like to admit.
You’ve talked about it before, talked about him being too needy and too possessive from time to time, but never once have you two fought about it. You thought you never would, and you were right. Your departure was slightly painful for the both of you, but it was only 2 weeks that you‘d be gone, and it’s not at all like you couldn’t stay in contact. So there was nothing to worry about, right?
Or so you thought.
The moment you arrived at you local airport you saw your mom run up to you, caging you in her arms as if to never let you go again. Your father wasn’t far behind, and then came your brother. It was a sweet little moment of a family reuniting as a whole again. And even though you wanted to set your whole focus on the few next days to come, the lovely wedding and the friends you once lost on the way who you’d now finally see again, Lando never really left your mind. You just didn’t understand why, you weren’t usually like this.
Maybe it was just that after five years of knowing each other and three of those spent dating, you did grow somewhat dependent. you knew it wasn’t the truth, but blaming it on a simple thing like that seemed terribly easier than giving in to the thoughts of what could actually be the cause of it. You didn’t have any time for that. You weren’t here to think about work or about Lando, but about the things that were right in front of your eyes, which at this moment was the beautiful white wedding decorated with all sorts of flowers of sunset hues.
The wedding was held on a beach, surrounded by the dreamy sound of waves crashing and seagulls singing their own nupital melodies. You arrived with one of your old friends Nina, both of you wearing long and flowy pastel dresses, just as the dress code ordered you to. The day went on with you two crying at seeing one of your childhood friends getting married, listening to the heartfelt vows of bride and groom.
Your mind immediately went to Lando and you standing at the altar like they did. You knew it was too soon, and you knew he didn’t have time for marriage, even less for planning a wedding, but you still couldn’t help it. You really did miss him more this time, and throughout the whole ceremony, the feeling of something being incredibly off only intensed.
But the night came, and the feeling faded. Or at least the drinks made it do that.
You were sitting with Nina and two guys you used to be very close with at the dim bar near the dance floor when you suddenly noticed something light up inside your purse. You didn’t mind it at first, not wanting to be rude towards Tom who was trying to talk to you without stumbling over his word completely, but the shots you downed beforehand made it undoubtedly harder.
Your phone lit up again. Slowly getting on your nerves, you decided to wait until Tom’s attention was fixated on Nina again to then check your messages and - missed calls?
—
Lando hated how his mood changed whenever you were gone. It felt as if there was something missing when you weren’t there waiting for him at home after debriefing or after PR events and whatnot. He missed your hugs and kisses, your smile and most importantly, just your touch.
Truth be told - but never to you - when you first started dating, for Lando, the thriving point was attraction. One month in, that’s when he realized that he wasn’t getting rid of you any time soon. Not that he minded. Two months in and the two of you made it official, of course not without any drama because how was a McLaren driver allowed to date a McLaren employee? Two weeks and the conversations and the hate online slowly died down, but your relationship kept on blooming. There was just one thing that somehow had Lando incredibly confused - why did your relationship suddenly feel more like you couldn’t get rid of him? Why did it feel like he was the one attached to you instead of the other way around?
Not that it felt bad or anything, he was just very used to have the girl being that dependent on him, to always want his attention, to always ask for his opinion on everything. Now he was the one all over you, and you didn’t mind it at all. You had the man you love wrapped tightly around your finger, just like he had you. For three years now.
But that didn’t help him right now, not with jealousy nagging at his side like a demon. You were out, enjoying your time with people you loved, and while he should be happy for you, he spent his time rather annoyed at you not being where he was. It’s only been a week, and work has already failed to keep his mind off of you. And he hated it. He knew it was the day of the wedding, and he was done wasting his time only thinking about you, so what else was there for a man to do instead of going clubbing with the guys? He hadn’t spent time with them in a long time, neither had he gone clubbing these past fem months, too caught up with Formula 1. So this would be okay, right? Just some drinks to keep his mind off of you.
Right?
—
15 missed calls from carlos sainz.
that was weird, you thought, and your stomach dropped and you felt the dread creeping up your consciousness. It had you feeling weaker than ever.
You quietly excused yourself to go to the bathroom, though every step towards it made it harder and harder to breathe.
What if something had happened to him? A work incident? Then how did Carlos know? Were they hanging out and he hurt himself? Were they out and someone there hurt Lando?
Did something happen to your Lando?
Your finger hovered shaking over the green button until you finally decided to press it and call the Ferrari driver back. Not even a single beep was heard before he huffed out your name as if he had been yearning for you to finally phone him back.
“Carlos? Is everything okay?” The Spaniard could practically feel your distress through the screen and he swore he’s never felt an urge so strong to punch someone right across their face, let alone his best friend Lando Norris.
It took some time for realization to set in. Your breathing had slowed down but the chills all over your body told that it was a sign far from good. Very far from good.
You could still make out the faint sound of Carlos’ voice as you locked the door of the bathroom stall furthest in the back, however, every word that came after “Lando cheated on you” somehow wasn’t comprehensive to you.
You just hope he’ll still like her in the morning, cause you, for sure, weren’t coming back.
#🎙️ you hear me? mel wrote some fanfic stuff or whatever#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader angst#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando x reader#lando norris#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#ln4#lando norris x you#lando norris angst#formula one x reader#lando smut#f1 x reader#f1 angst#angst#angst x reader#carlos sainz x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1#lando angst#ln4 angst#lando norris smut#smut
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demon!dean x angel!reader.
tw! mentions of death, anxiety, blood, graphic language, manipulation, dean being an a-hole, corruption, grammar mistakes (ig)
word count! 2.1k
it was hard seeing dean in this state.
at first, you thought he was dead. you watched him die in your arms. then, you found out that he was a demon? and to make everything worse, no one wanted to tell you anything — they thought it was for the best.
why? you had no clue.
so, when they brought him in, back to the bunker, you almost got a heart attack. you wanted to scream, cry, throw up and do everything else that humans do when they’re overstimulated with emotions. however, your state of distressed euphoria didn’t last for long when the bad news came crashing down on you, making you hyperventilate and experience what was called a panic attack. while you were getting more human, your beloved was turning into his worst nightmare.
dean was a demon.
yeah, he indeed died a year prior, but because he was bearing the Mark Of Cain at that time, he was resurrected. and you weren’t exactly sure if you were happy about that.
sure, it was dean. he looked the same.
but it wasn’t your dean.
those green eyes, once full of love and adoration for you, now were as empty as the hole in your heart that his death left. whenever you looked at him, you didn’t see him — the soul once shattered but put back together by you. now, it was only darkness which consumed every tiny bit of light you tried so hard to put in him.
it wasn’t your dean.
you were sitting in the war room in your usual place — an armchair in the corner, right next to the cabinet stuffed with lore books and other things. nervously picking at your wings, you let the feathers drop to the ground as you stared with empty eyes at the wall in front of you. castiel and sam were discussing what to do with dean and how could they possibly save him — if the whole process was even reversible.
you had no idea how they managed to catch him in the first place and drag him back here — no one was telling you anything. you were as clueless as you could be, knowing only that the man you loved the most was now the creature of darkness you were taught to despise since the early stage of creation.
you didn’t get a chance to talk to him yet. and you weren’t exactly sure if you wanted to. you only saw how they dragged his unconscious body to the basement and locked him up in there, chained to the chair in the middle of the anti-possession symbol.
as more and more feathers covered the wooden floor, the man and your angel brother noticed the state you were in. they looked at each other and then back at you. sam sighed and came closer, placing his hand on your shoulder. you shivered lightly and looked at the younger winchester.
“hey, listen, we think that we found something which can help bring dean back. but we can’t leave him alone here so—“ sam explained with a soft smile, and you could see that when he turned his head towards cas, he wanted him to continue. the angel widened his eyes and nodded.
“oh, yeah. we want you to stay with him,” as always, painfully straightforward.
“why me? can’t one of you stay?” because frankly, you didn’t want to face him. not yet.
“birdie, you’re—“ sam started, but you quickly cut him off.
“don’t call me that,” you said with a stern voice, your tone almost threatening. it was what dean used to call you. no way you’d let this word slip from someone else’s mouth — it was reserved only for dean winchester.
“okay, fine, i won’t,” he raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back as he felt like you were about to hit him with something. “it’s just… you’re in no shape to go outside at the moment. look what you’ve done to your wings—“
“what i do with them is my fucking business,” you hissed, and both of them were stunned. you just cursed.
they were looking at you in disbelief, and suddenly, you felt embarrassed with your little outburst. however, you weren’t going to apologize for your feelings — you had an absolute right to be upset and frustrated. so, shooting them both a cold glare, you left the room.
in the end, you were left alone with dean. it took you some time to mentally prepare for the confrontation. but eventually, you pulled your shit together and decided to go down to the basement.
carrying a tray with some food, you slowly opened the door and peeked inside. suddenly, you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest, and your mouth was dry as if you hadn’t seen a drop of water in days. you slowly walked out into the dim light, showing yourself to him after god knows how long.
and then, you heard it — a mocking, cold-hearted chuckle that echoed through the air.
“oh, now, who do we have here? my little birdie. i missed you so much, baby. did you miss me, too?” he asked with a cruel smirk, tilting his head to the side as he sized you up, his eyes flashing a pitch-black colour for a second.
for some reason, all the courage you built up in yourself vanished as soon as you made eye contact with him. he was scary. you never thought you’d admit it, but you were genuinely scared of the man who once used to hold you so dearly in his arms, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he placed small kisses on your temple. now, he had this darkness in his soul that made you want to hurl — your angelic nature physically declining being anywhere near such evil.
you tightened your fingers on the tray, looking around the room, thinking what you should do. you couldn’t free him from his restraints, but then again, he had to eat, somehow. because still, you cared about him. fuck, you still loved him.
“come on, birdie. you’re not even going to say hi to me? please, let me have a look at your pretty face. it’s been so long,” he cooed, suddenly putting on that soft voice you were so used to hearing. but then again, you could just sense the mockery and the dark intention behind his words. everything coming out of his mouth in this moment was insincere.
but was that enough to make you weak? yes.
because, oh god, even if it was just for your delusions and how naive you were, you just wanted him back. you wanted your dean back, and you were ready to pretend as long as it was needed.
so, slowly, you looked up at him, trying to hold back your tears as they dwelled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your rosy cheeks.
dean smirked menacingly, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly white teeth, letting out a grunt as he bit his lower lip, slightly thrusting his hips forward and spreading his legs.
“there we go. my good little angel,” he taunted, eyeing you up and down with a predatory smile.
“what happened to you?” you asked meekly, your voice trembling as you swallowed a lump in your throat. you were sick to your stomach, and the smell of evil basically radiating from him didn’t help.
“me? nothing, birdie. it’s me, dean. your dean. your precious human, don’t you remember?” he tried acting clueless and innocent but quickly gave in to his demonic nature, letting out a cruel laugh as he threw his head back. “come on, don’t act so fucking dense. i’m a demon, now. you should’ve gathered that much by now. or did they not tell you? no wonder. you’re so fucking infantile that it’s just straight-up pathetic. you’re not a fucking kid. sure, you’re this cute, little, clueless angel. but come on, use your damn feathered brain sometimes,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes.
and holy shit, did that hurt.
you bit your lower lip, your eyes now obviously glossy when you let out a small sniffle. you just wanted to run and hide somewhere, away from him and his cruel insults. now, you were 100% sure.
it wasn’t your dean.
you were ready to leave the basement. you turned around and took a deep breath, but dean wouldn’t let you go so easily. as soon as he noticed that you wanted to escape, he used his soft voice. again.
“hey, hey, hey. birdie, i’m sorry. you know i didn’t mean that. it’s just—“ he grunted as if he was struggling. “it’s this demon in me. i can’t control it,” he started panting heavily, a smirk still on his face as you were turned with your back facing him. “birdie, please. you have to believe me. i would never hurt you.”
damn, did that work.
hearing him struggle and be in pain just cut at your heartstrings. quickly, you turned around with a panicked expression and stepped closer to him.
“dean?” you asked, your voice breaking as tears flooded your face, dropping from your chin onto his thighs. he nodded, putting on an act and using his most pathetic expression.
“it’s me, birdie. please, help me,” he almost choked on his words, his voice pained and hurting. “please, baby, you’re the only one i can count on.”
you knew you’d probably regret that later. but jesus, you were so gullible, and you loved him so much.
almost immediately, you freed him from his restraints, cupping his face and stroking his stubbled cheeks. he sighed and grabbed your wrists, giving them a gentle squeeze as he leaned into your touch. at this point, you were long gone.
“tell me what’s happening, dean. let me help you,” you whispered, carefully scanning his face, still clueless that all of it was just a scene.
“it hurts. baby, it hurts so badly,” he whimpered, squeezing your wrists tighter. hearing that only made you panic even more.
“where? tell me where, i’ll heal you,” you sobbed, your vision blurry because of your tears.
“you can’t. you can’t heal it,” he panted, closing his eyes shut and grunting in mock pain.
“what do you mean?” you widened your eyes. “why not?”
“there’s only one way you can help me,” and you were ready to do anything for him, your self-preservation instincts turned off instantly. with a nod, you encouraged him to continue. “birdie, i need your blood.”
and that was enough for you to freeze on the spot. your mouth went dry, and you exhaled a shaky breath. he needed your blood, which was probably the most sacred thing in the universe. angel blood was the rarest to get, and it had its power.
“h-how? why?” you stuttered, shaking your head as you tried to understand it. you didn’t know anything about angels helping someone with their blood. and you were scared of the possible consequences.
dean cursed in his head, trying his best not to frown and scoff. instead, he kept on with the pathetic act. he whimpered again and then grunted, leaning forward as he put his hand on his chest, pretending that he struggled to breathe.
“please. i- i can’t,” he groaned and then screamed in pain.
“okay, what do i do?” you asked, widening your eyes as even more panic flooding your system.
“feed it to me. please, birdie. let me drink your blood,” he begged and then, you acted purely on your feelings, throwing any remaining logical thought out the window.
without much further ado, you lifted one of your wings and took a single feather. you slit your wrist with the sharper end, and as the crimson liquid started dripping down your skin at high speed, you put it closer to his face.
dean closed his eyes and inhaled the metallic scent. it took him a lot of effort not to moan in pure pleasure and excitement. he licked his lips and then grabbed your hand, putting his mouth in your wrist and drinking your blood like a man starved. you gasped and scrunched your eyes, tilting your head away as he dug his teeth into your skin for a better grip.
you began to feel more and more lightheaded as he drank more and more of your blood. when you finally looked back at him, only then did you realize your mistake. his eyes were pitch black, and his mouth was covered in your blood. he pulled away and smiled sadistically, looking at you like a feral animal.
he pushed you onto the floor and chuckled darkly, looking around the room. he grabbed the feather you dropped and it practically rotted in his hand, turning into a dark blade-like object. you widened your eyes, crawling away from him as he started to walk towards you with a bloodthirsty smile. and then, only one word slipped from his blood-covered mouth.
“run.”
a/n: idea inspired by @angelicjackles !! lmk what you think, all feedback is very much appreciated:))
༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @a1ecmcdowell @angelicp0etry @figthoughts @fitxgrld @hrtsoldierboy @10ava01
#jasvtsc#jasvtsc writing#dean winchester x angel!reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester one shot#demon!dean#demon!dean x angel!reader#supernatural one shot#supernatural#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader
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pairings: best friend!Harry x fem!reader
summary: Y/N's having a bad day and who better to help than her best friend
word count: 2.2k
authors note: hi hello!! here’s something that’s been sitting in my drafts for a whileeeee while i work on chapter three! :) hope you enjoy!!
TW: for a mention of self harm but the only thing she does is pinch her arms over and over again, please read with caution or don’t read if it triggers you or make you uncomfortable. i love you❤️
----
Y/N’s always been such a happy person, always there for all her friends, always having a smile on her face and making sure her friends are okay. She’s always been that one friend that no matter what time it is, she’ll always be there to lend a listening ear and provide the needed solace.
She’s always been that friend that’ll give the ones she cares about the last of her anything, always willing to give the last of her money to help a friend in need, willing to give the clothes off her back if it was necessary. She’s just a giver by nature. She’s always been the friend to go to whenever you need advice, always taking care of her friends, giving them whatever’s needed.
Because she’s grown to be able to mask her emotions, it’s hard to tell whenever she’s not able to fully give as much, whenever she starts feeling down and gets in her head. No one notices as she starts becoming quieter, smaller, less.
She very rarely has bad days, her sunshine personality weeding its way through the dark clouds and allowing her to smile and laugh her way through the day. It’s easy to forget why her day was bad when she’s around friends, but it’s especially easy when she’s around him. Her best friend, her right hand man, her everything in a sense.
Her and Harry had become friends when she stumbled into him and spilled her tea all over his cream flared pants and she over-apologized until he laughed it off and rubbed her head gently. After that, they became inseparable, always attached at the hip. They were close, close enough to where whenever they were out by themselves they were constantly asked how long they’ve been together, they were constantly mistaken for a long term couple. At the question, they’d both blush softly and deny the question by laughing and shaking their heads as they smile and say they’re just friends.
They’ve always been just friends and neither have entertained the thought of becoming more, not seeing the point of appeasing everyone else as long as they were happy. He’s always noticing her, takes in the small details and keeps them all in a special folder in his brain and his heart.
He notices how she’ll sway lightly in her seat whenever she’s happy, he notices how her nose scrunches whenever she genuinely laughs, he notices how she never leaves without a hug and ‘I love you’, how she puts her hand over a sharp corner when her friend bends down to get something, how she makes sure to never split the pole and to always give a little snack to any cat or dog she sees on the street.
He also notices when she starts distancing herself in conversation, how her lip will quiver and her eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit when she’s upset but can’t sneak away, he notices that when she starts playing with her rings that means she’s in her head or she’s uncomfortable, he notices how her glossy eyes will lose the light in them whenever she’s having a bad day. He notices things that she doesn’t even notice in herself and he prides himself in knowing her so well.
She’s his complete other half, his soulmate, he can’t imagine his life without her and refuses to even think about that. He can just feel whenever her energy shifts ever so slightly and he’s always been there to help her.
But he knows that when she has the bad days she prefers to deal with it alone, she’ll start excusing herself from the friend group when she’s asked to hang out. Her most used excuse is she’s on her period and her cramps are just killing her, and he knows that’s when it’s bad, when her pain is at its worst and she can’t bother to attempt to mask.
Her body aches, she can feel the pain rooting itself deep in her bones, she’s tense as her muscles scream at her. Her bloodshot eyes sting painfully as fat and heavy tears stream down her pink cheeks, her lips chapped no matter how many times she licks them. She can feel her head pounding and throbbing from how long she’s been crying, her throat sore and tight as she hiccups.
Her arms are beginning to form a slight hue of red and she can feel bruises beginning to form as she pinches them quickly, trying to distract her mind from the intense feelings of her own emotions flooding through. The muscles in her stomach are tense and uncomfortable at the amount of heavy sobs and pants that flow through her body and out of her plump lips.
She can’t remember what triggered all of this, her brain too fuzzy to even remember if she grabbed her list to ground her. As she cries and screams into the empty space, she can feel her lungs expand as she breathes, she can feel the light touch of her loose tank top brush lightly against her skin, she can feel the loose strands of hair brushing against the back of her neck.
She feels as if she can’t breathe, it feels like her bedroom is caving in on her, the small room only seeming to grow smaller and smaller as her breath gets stronger and shaky. Her hand scrambles around her messy bed, searching for the list containing ways for her to calm down and a shaky sob racks through her body when she realizes she can’t find it.
She closes her eyes tightly as she brings her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them, burying her face into her legs she can’t help as she shakes her head. She doesn’t know how long this has been going on, how long she’s trapped herself in her room, but she hopes it’ll be over soon.
She grabs her phone from her beside table and with shaky hands she unlocks it and clicks on her messages app. She quickly taps on the conversation she’s looking for and attempts to write out a message.
——
Sweet Girl: H, can u come over please
She doesn’t have to wait long for a response from him as her phone dings a couple seconds later.
Haz: Of course sweet girl. Do you need/want me to bring anything for you? Some food maybe?
Sweet: Girl: if u want, just want you rn
Haz: Ok bug. I’m gonna get us some food and then I’ll be over. See you soon x
Sweet Girl: kay, thanks H. love u
Haz: I love you sweet girl, just try to breathe for me, I won’t be too long and I’ll use my key so you don’t have to get up.
——-
As she tries to focus on her breathing, attempting to take slow and deep breaths, she wipes her face to clear away the tears on her cheeks. She sniffles and wraps her arms around her torso gently as she lies in her bed, the soft material and warmth from her cover enveloping her and makes her smile softly.
She’s only able to enjoy a couple moments of peace before another painful sobs rack through her body. She sobs into her pillow, the pain searing through her body as the tears stain her cheeks.
She hates this, she hates not knowing why she’s so upset, she hates everything to do with her bad days. She wishes she was able to ask for the help she needs but she’s so much of a people pleaser, she can’t bear the thought of not being there for her friends when they need her.
A soft knock at her bedroom door jolts her gently from her thoughts. She quickly tries to wipe her face from any tears and snot streaks before telling the person to come on. Her door squeaks softly as it opens and his face appears in the small space.
As he walks into her small bedroom, he smiles sadly at her in which she returns the favor. Her eyes light up just a bit when she spots the brown takeout bag with her favorite Mexican restaurant logo printed onto the cheap plastic. He leans down and kisses her forehead before sitting down on her bed gently and placing the bag next to him.
“Hi” she whispers and he smiles
“Hi, feelin’ any better?” He says and she nods
“Not really, thank you for uh coming over” she says as she leans her head on his shoulder.
He hums softly as he wraps one arm around her shoulder and squeezes once.
“Y’know m’always gonna come. You don’t have to thank me. Wanna talk about it?” He asks gently and she shakes her head lightly.
“Not much to talk about, dunno why it happens. I just get really sad out of nowhere.” She closes her eyes gently as she relaxes into his hold.
He nods in response and they sit in silence for a couple minutes before he reaches over to the bag and holds it out to her.
“Here, you should eat it before it gets cold.” She smiles in response as he nudges her hand with the bag. She thanks him quietly as she grabs the bag from him, smiling bashfully she begins to open the bag and the styrofoam box inside.
As she eats in silence, she’s not able to eat as much as she normally would. She takes a couple decent sized bites before she begins to move the food around.
“M’gonna put this in the fridge, I’ll be back.” He says quietly as he makes a way to grab the box, she sighs softly before looking at him.
“Sorry..” he shakes his head in return.
“Don’t be sorry lovie. M’proud of you for eating as much as you did.” He says before walking out and setting the box in the fridge before walking back to her room.
As he comes back into her room, he hums a soft song as he makes his way to her bed and wraps his arms around her, squeezing tightly. He kisses the top of her head before whispering into her ear.
“M’so sorry you’re feelin’ like this lovie. But you’re not alone okay? You have so many people who care for you and love you.” He can hear her sniffle softly and be squeezes her once.
“Not your fault Haz. I know I’m not alone but I don’t wanna burden anyone.” She says and he shakes his head.
“You’re never gonna be a burden. We want you to be happy, be okay, we want you to not have to suffer alone. All of us worry about you, it’s okay to ask for help, angel. We’re not gonna judge you.” Her quiet tears slowly become louder as he speaks, she shakes her head and he rubs her back.
“It’s okay not to be okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be in pain. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to accept the love you give out, angel. You give and give and give to everyone else, and I know you don’t give yourself the love and energy you deserve.. let us love you how you love us, let us help you. Let us care for you. We’re not gonna judge you sweet girl.” He says and she grabs his t-shirt tightly before sobbing into his chest.
She can feel the tears streaming down her cheeks and wetting his shirt as she cries into him. She can’t find it to be embarrassed at how loud she’s being and how she looks, not with his hand rubbing small circles on her back and how his words have sparked a sense of warmth in her stomach. She can feel it fluttering throughout her body while he whispers all these soft and sweet words in her ear.
She can’t remember how long she’s been crying, and she goes to move away from him and he stops her.
“Y’okay now? You don’t have to move if you’re not ready yet.” She nods before scooting closer to him, their thighs mashed together and her head resting on his shoulder as he rubs her shoulders softly.
They stay like that, sitting in the comfortable silence for a while before she yawns softly and catches his attention.
“Y’tired?” He asks and she nods
“Sorry you spent your day with a crying mess.” She says with a sad chuckle.
“You’re my best friend Y/N. I’d gladly spend however long with you no matter if you’re sad or happy. As long as you’re okay, I’m happy. Want me to stay with you tonight?” He asks and she shakes her head.
“Uh uh, go have fun with your other friends. I think I’m okay now. Thank you for everything H.” She says as she squeezes him softly before moving to the head of her bed and getting under the covers.
“Text or call me if y’need anything angel. I mean it.” He says and goes to tuck her in, resulting is a soft giggle to breeze past her lips.
“Okay, dad. I love you.” She says a smile playing on her lips as he leans forward and kisses her forehead.
“I love you sweet girl. Sleep well and have sweet dreams.”
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry edward styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fan fic#harrystyles#harry styles one direction#harry#harry styles fluff#best friend!harry#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x y/n#harry x reader#harry fanfic
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So here's something that I have learned about patriarchy I want to share: patriarchy is designed to benefit PATRIARCHS. Being the male "head of the family." It's about power and status and hierarchy. To be a patriarch you have to be in charge of others - generally your family. That includes other men! There's no real way to actually escape this, but the closest thing to escaping it for men is to become patriarchs themselves.
My dad was raised in a very strict and traditional catholic household. My opa (his dad) was very much The Head of the Family - even more so because he immigrated to Canada and his father wasn't around, so there was no one above him. He expected obedience from his wife and children, including his two sons, and that was just The Way of Things.
My dad suffered under this quite a lot. And he did the big hippie thing of vowing not to be like his dad - and to his credit, he did try in many ways not to repeat the same mistakes his dad did when being my dad. But the problem is that he still bought into the system of patriarchy. And the only real way to have power in that system is to be a patriarch. So that's what he became. He got a wife and had kids and expected them to defer to him the way he had to defer to his dad. He expected the cycle to continue, but now in his favour.
Problem was that no one else in my immediate family was fine with that. My mom eventually checked out of that. I cut my dad out of my life about 8 years ago. My sisters barely speak to him. We said no, you don't get to control us like that just because you're The Man of the House. You don't get to dictate our lives to us, to tell us how to behave and what's allowed and what isn't, especially as adults. It was chafing enough as kids, but as an adult he still had this expectation that we'd all still defer to him. He would always be right the same was his dad was always right.
And that worldview of his extended to everything outside the family as well - that's why he buys into men's rights nonsense and is anti-choice and thinks the world is too woke. Because he sees that people aren't willing to just prop up the system, and it means he doesn't get the power from it that he was promised. When he was young, it was clear that if he just held out and did what he was told, he would one day be King. And now he doesn't have that and hates it.
I've cut him out of my life because it's been too difficult to stay connected to him. He's hurt me too much and I can't be okay with him anymore. But I'm SAD for him because he's been screwed over by this system just as much as most people I know. Not in the same ways, but still very palpably. But he'll never acknowledge that the problem is the system and not everyone who refuses to follow it. For him, everyone who says no to patriarchy is just wrong and a traitor to how people should live, and he refuses to see that he doesn't benefit from this system because it's a BAD system. It crushed him and remolded him into something to prop itself up, and that's heartbreaking.
The people who support patriarchy are rarely the ones who are actually truly benefiting from it. Yes, men definitely get privilege from the system because it's designed to put men over everyone else. But very few men in the system actually manage to escape the hierarchy of the other men over top of them who make their lives miserable.
If you can, be kind and try to understand and help. It's too late for me and my dad - there's too much bad blood there now and I tried to help for too long without success. I still hope for his sake that he finds a better way to be happy. But there are lots of men out there who would blossom and thrive if they could let go of the idea that patriarchy is going to make them king - and there are more chances than ever that they CAN understand that. Try to give them that chance.
I want there to be fewer MRAs. Do you want that too? Do you want to know what helps us get there, from a feminist perspective?
You may not like my answer: acknowledge that sexism can affect men. Recognize that, although the patriarchy generally privileges men, they are also subject to restrictive gender roles that are harmful to them (shunning all things “feminine,” not showing emotions, being protectors/strong, never admitting being victims of SA/IPV, having to “earn” their manhood, etc.).
Give young men a place other than the right-wing manosphere to be heard about the issues they experience. If these grifters are telling them “only we understand how hard it is to be a man, the left hates you for your gender” and they look to the left and see “men claiming they have ‘problems’ are losers who just hate women, all men are trash,” do you think they’re going to be drawn towards or away from feminism?
Before you leave an angry response: no, this does not mean to center men instead of women in feminism, it just means including them at all. No, it is not “coddling” men to treat them with human dignity, you can and should continue to hold them (and every other gender) responsible for unpacking sexist beliefs. No, this does not mean it is every individual woman’s and feminist’s responsibility to prioritize men’s issues, it just means at the least not shutting them down when they do speak up about sexism. No, it is not “not all men-ing” to point out that “men are trash” sentiments hurt the feminist movement rather than helping it. Ask questions before you make accusations on this post, please. I have been abused by men too, I get it, this isn’t easy to hear.
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Someone I follow is posting about Spock and McCoy after the Katra sharing, but they're posting canon thoughts and I'm all fanon so I'm making my own post lol
Post Katra headcanons!
Spock swears in Southern when he's tired. He really doesnt like this
McCoy understands a bit of Vulcan, but only when he doesn't know the person isn't speaking English. Like, if they randomly switch to Vulcan he can keep up until it's pointed out
They can feel when the other is experiencing strong emotions. They don't know what emotion, but it's like an itch or a tickle in their throat to say the other is feeling something
They know a bit of each other's specialised knowledge. McCoy is passable at astrophysics now, and Spock is an even more annoying patient since he understands the terminology
They also remember a few private moments of eachother's that they weren't present for. Both politely don't mention this, but do find confusing ways to allude to it
McCoy can cook some Vulcan dishes now. Spock developed a taste for bourbon in the evening that takes everyone by surprise
With great effort Spock can project messages to McCoy. With greater effort McCoy can give Spock a feeling that translates to fuck off
On Vulcan they're legally super duper married and Spock just doesn't mention this. McCoy notices next tax return when he's taxed like a married man, not a single man. Takes him months of asking around to figure out who the government thinks he's married to. He files for divorce without talking to Spock
Spock won't divorce him cos he did carry his Katra, but he'll agree to an annulment. McCoy about pops off with anger
Kirk buys them a wedding gift when he finds out
They don't get the annulment and neither can really put their finger on why. Something about respecting Vulcan culture, cos they'll still be married on Vulcan no matter what
McCoy gets a headache whenever Spock mind melds with someone else
McCoy can initiate a mind meld with Spock, which they both get kinda very into cos their brains feel so good paired back up again. McCoy drunkenly described it as being better than sex to Kirk and the idea of that sticks around something terrible
Their telepathic connection is stronger after a meld, so they start doing it in advance of missions so they can be in touch immediately if things go sideways
If they're apart for a long time the connection will tell them when each other is close by. They've run into each other at conferences or in hotels or once on a transport ship they didn't know the other was booking too. They find each other quickly and easily when they're nearby
This becomes an uncanny capacity to always vaguely know where the other is. McCoy is bad at remembering that he shouldn't know and will volunteer Spock's whereabouts sometimes without thinking
They get good at learning what the various nudges and hints from their connection mean. They can tell different moods apart and send messages that the other can open at their leisure, rather than breaking through and being front of mind
If one of them is injured or captive or just bored as shit they'll sometimes pop into the other's head and basically turn into the back seat driver from hell
With everything they know and learn, they're very fond of each other
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Just Friends: Trapped Inside
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes
masterlist
Summary: Bucky takes you away.
It’s giving
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Bucky puts the tray of processed mac and cheese before you. You stare at the steam coming off of it. He has a fork in his other hand but hesitates to hand it over.
“For the food only,” he finally sets it down.
You pout, “Bucky, I wouldn’t...” you sink your chin down, “you know...”
“I do,” he agrees with a sigh. He pulls out the chair across from you. “Let’s talk.”
You sniffle and scratch your nose. You fight back tears as you keep your eyes on the noodles. You slowly take the fork and stir in the cheese.
“Do you have ketchup?” You ask.
He sucks in a breath then clucks, “sorry, no.”
You swallow and shrug, “that’s okay.”
He shifts and leans on his elbows, clutching one forearm as he crosses his arms. He taps his fingers on the table. He tilts his head, “will you look at me?”
Your lashes flutter and you obey. The last time you disobeyed him, he put you in a trunk. Your face contorts at that thought but you quickly tamp down the fear.
“Don’t... I’m not a monster,” he says.
You can’t say anything. You’re not sure about that anymore. Not sitting here in this strange underground bunker.
“I’m your friend,” he continues, “is it so bad that I want more? That I like you so much that--”
“No,” you blubber and quickly swipe away the tears as the spill. “No, if you were my friend you would listen to me.”
“Doll, where’s the fairness in that when you won’t listen to me?” His voice deepens.
“I did and I just... that’s not what I want. It’s not what I’m looking for--”
“I told you the same thing and you made me go on that date with that prissy bitch,” he snaps. You reel back in the chair and drop the fork, stunned by his harsh tone. He cringes and sits up, raising his palms as he calms himself. “Look, I said it over and over. That you were enough. You are enough for me, dreamy. You are everything to me.”
Your lip trembles and your chest locks up. Breathing hurts. You shrink down and mop your cheeks with your fingers, unable to stop the flow. It’s all broken now. There’s no going back. Why did he have to ruin it? You never meant to put that idea in his head.
“Dreamy,” he rasps and stands, “don’t cry, please--”
You flinch and hug yourself with a whimper. He staggers before he can come closer. He shakes his head, “no, no, you’re not going to make me feel that way. I haven’t hurt you.”
“You have,” you garble. “You... you... grabbed me and put me in the trunk and...”
“Because you need me. You need—You don’t get it. You don’t get it because you assume the best in everyone and everything. Even me. The world isn’t going to be nice forever.”
You snivel and try to suck back the deluge. You lower your eyes and steady your breath. You’re shaking as your grief is drowned out by something else. Anger.
“Like you.”
“Me?” He hisses and strides around the table.
You look up at him defiantly and furrow your nose like a rabid dog, “yes, you. You couldn’t just be nice. You couldn’t just take no for an answer.”
“What about you? It wouldn’t be like this if we didn’t go on that damn date!”
“No,” you snarl.
“Dreamy,” he points in your face, “watch it.”
You snap your mouth shut and wince. You stare at his finger then look him in the face, “or what?”
“You called Sam behind my back--”
“No, you threatened me,” you stand up. “What are you going to do now, huh? You already trapped me, so what else is left?”
“Dreamy, come on,” he grits.
“Don’t,” you sneer. “You don’t know how the world’s been to me. You don’t know that it’s always been nice. You just assume because you hate everything that everyone should. Well, I’ve seen hate and I don’t like it! Why do you think I’m alone? It’s not because the world is nice?”
You blink and glare up at him. Beneath all your frustration, embarrassment needles through. You shake your head and back away. He blocks you and grabs your arm.
“Dreamy, you never said. We’re friends so why--”
“No, we’re not,” you say. “You just want to use me, like everyone does.”
“That isn’t what this is.”
“Leave me alone,” you rip away from him and turn to swipe the tray off the table. “Just go away.”
You stomp away, bracing for him to grab you. He doesn’t. You cross the room and stop before the wall. There’s nowhere for you to go. You turn and pace one way, then the other. You sense him across the space, watching.
He gets down to clean up the mess. You ignore him as best you can. You walk in circles, driving yourself mad as reality bubbles up around you. He’s not going to let you go. Even if you hate him. If you could bring yourself to feel that.
You don’t see him and dare to peek over. He’s gone. You hear movement but don’t know where it’s coming from. Good, he can keep himself busy.
You go to the door and stare at the barrier. If only you had a metal arm. Your eyes burn again. You drop your head and turn your back to it. You can’t just stare a hole through it.
You press your back against the metal and slide down to your bottom. You bend your knees to your chest and hug them. You bow your head and let the sobbing shake through you.
The tears build a wall between you and the world. The sadness aches in your skull and scrapes in your throat. You heave until you’re spent and shivering.
There’s a click and the flames licks louder. You turn your head to look at the artificial fireplace. “Cold in here,” Bucky says. You close your eyes. “Got the bed made up. You’re tired. You need some good sleep.”
You don’t answer him as you turn your face down. You stay entirely still. You don’t have the strength to move. You'll sleep right here. You don’t want his guilt. Not when he won’t change what he did. That’s not guilt, that’s greed.
He nears and you squeeze your eyes tight. He scoops you up and you stay rigid. He carries you through the safe house as you stay closed up inside yourself. He puts on something soft but you don’t let go. You hide in the darkness, wishing that there was light left to see.
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#series#drabble#just friends#mcu#marvel#winter soldier#au#captain america#avengers
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svt & subspace (m)
1.4k a/n: again... idk where this came from.. just something i've been thinking abt the past couple days yippee!! (NSFW)
seungcheol — the first time you hit true subspace it turns him on to no end. loooves knowing he can make you feel so good your mind goes blank (he'll never let you forget it). you turn even more pliant, willing to do anything he wants you to do. he makes sure you know your safe word before anything else, sometimes repeating the question over and over until he gets a clear answer. despite how much he might want it, seungcheol will usually stop you from doing things just to please him, knowing your altered state might be urging you to do things you can’t fully consent to. seungcheol thinks subspace is hot, but only if you’re present enough to stop anything you don’t want to do.
jeonghan — like seungcheol, jeonghan loves seeing you slip into subspace, loves seeing how you turn to putty in his hands, how willing you become to please him. with how eager and cocky jeonghan is, it’s not unusual for you to float away during sex right before an orgasm or after an intense one. unlike seungcheol, however, if you want him to face fuck you while you’re in subspace who is he to say no? will make sure you have a clear safe word/gesture, and will ask you to repeat it to him a few times before you start. always asks you a few times if you’re sure. it’s not the most productive when he has to drag answers out of you, but the last thing he wants to do is hurt his angel when you’re so ready to please him.
joshua — joshua cares about you so much and wants you to know that he’ll always be there to take care of you. he lets you know he’s there by slipping his hand into yours, grounding you. physical touch is a big thing for him, slowly bringing you back down to your body when you’re ready. joshua is so in tune with you and your body he knows exactly where to touch you and what to say to keep the good feelings going. subspace usually happens for you right before you come, and—like clockwork—as soon as he reminds you how much he loves you it sends you right over the edge where joshua is ready to catch you.
jun — you’ve talked about it being a thing, but jun never thought he would actually get see it happen. the first time it happens, he sees the moment you feel pleasure so intense you lose the ability to speak. he never thought he’d be that good and he’s both a little surprised and also soooo turned on by the way you go limp, eyes almost rolled back in your head as haze overtakes you. the first time it happens, jun’s a little too eager and yanks you out of it a little too fast, leaving you a little disoriented. he feels really bad about it after, but jun is a quick learner and picks up on what you like and how to make the experience as enjoyable as possible for the both of you.
wonwoo — wonwoo’s thing is degradation, and after a particularly rough session of degradation and humiliation it sends you right over the edge into a floaty headspace. you don’t even have to come to get there. he’ll usually keep teasing you, dragging out your dumb state for as long as possible. he knows, however, that he can get intense during scenes so when you eventually come down he’s careful to give you lots of loving and praises for taking it so well. wonwoo loves to be mean, but he also loves you and wants you to know that none of what he says is true.
woozi — jihoon is split half and half. finds it hot, also not always the most patient. he loves to rile you up, watch you lean into it and inflate his ego. he loves making you feel good, but he also wants to good. when you linger in subspace for a long time he gets a little impatient and tries to bring you down before you're ready. he doesn't do it to be rude or mean, he just wants to keep loving on you. things to do (you) and places to be (work)!
hoshi — soonyoung loves to be the best at everything. whether that’s performing on stage or in the bedroom, he needs to know that he’s on top. (literally.) he loves to be mean and see you fold under his silver tongue—he loves to go back and forth between sickly praise and cold degradation and see you writhe and beg under him. seeing you sink into subspace goes straight to his dick and his ego. will always praise you after, letting you know he enjoyed it and wants to make sure you enjoyed it, too. you find it sexy how much soonyoung cares, which makes it that much easier for you to trust him so wholly.
minghao — minghao is all about trust, and he finds it sexy that you trust him enough to let him be with you when you slip into subspace. minghao isn’t a gentle lover, per se, but he is intense and prioritizes intimacy above all else. he knows it’s a delicate and deeply personal state to be in around someone else and will never make you do anything transactional. if he’s feeling extra mean, however, he’ll make fun of you for being so compliant...which usually goes straight to your core, leading to another round.
mingyu — mingyu is torn between finding it the hottest thing ever and trying not to panic (just a little) when you go nonverbal. on one hand yeah, he fucked your brains out and turned you ultra-dumb but on the other hey, are you okay baby? can you say something please? mingyu is sometimes too good with his cock for his own good that he’s always a little surprised when you enjoy it that much. he also secretly enjoys how needy it makes you and how you cling to him and love all up on him after a vigorous round.
dokyeom — short answer: freaks out. the likelihood of slipping into full subspace with a man who hates the idea of people being mad at him is… low. but once seokmin tried being meaner than usual with his words and his cock and it turned you on so much that after your fourth orgasm in a row you go nonverbal. seokmin stresses, petting your hair, asking you to breathe for him, to say something, “are you okay?? hey, what’s happening?” until you slowly come back to earth (after the fact you tease him a little for wigging out so much, but secretly you’re touched he cares just that much.) safe to say, the two of you don’t take it that far very often.
seungkwan — seungkwan seems the type to be more gentle and doesn’t really like being mean to you, so it seems like it’d be rare. but maybe, like seokmin, he switches it up every now and then and the change in pace is so hot to you that you become more sensitive to his touch and his words. it leaves you feeling a little lightheaded, making it easier for you to slip into subspace. the first time it happens, seungkwan is a little stressed but lets you stay in it as long as you need to. when you come down he wants to talk about your triggers so he can be more prepared to keep you feeling as good as possible.
vernon — ever the silent support, vernon will stay with you the whole time, maybe petting your cheek or rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs until you float back down to earth. he thinks it’s hot he can make you feel that good, but doesn’t ever want to yank you out of it, so he lets you feel what you need to for as long as possible. sometimes if it’s been a while, vernon will press a few kisses to your cheek and ask if you’re doing good. if you don’t respond he’ll leave you be, reminding you every once in a while he’s still here with you. once you come down he’s there with a few quiet praises and reminders how much he loves you.
dino — likes knowing he can send you there. (a lot.) his favorite method is a combo of taunting and edging and watching you get completely lost in pleasure when he finally lets you come. chan looooves seeing you go all dumb, words jumbled as you tell him how good he makes you feel. unless you explicitly say it’s okay before a session, he’s not super keen on forcing you to do anything when you’re not entirely present in your head. the only thing chan loves more than making you feel amazing is taking care of you after, supplying you with plenty of attention and love to keep you warm.
--
come yell at me! tell me your fantasies and your fears!
other stuuuuff :P
#kpop#kpop imagines#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt smut#svt x reader#seventeen reactions
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No you know what, I thought I was done, but I'm not.
The problem with this shit is that it misses the point of having shit like the crows in Thedas at all.
You can't sanetize stuff and have it have the same impact, it's not just the hollowness, it literally reduces the conflict to a nothing burger.
You know why Dorian is, perhaps, one of my FAVORITE goddamn characters in the entire DA game series?
BECAUSE HE LITERALLY HAS TO GO THROUGH DEPROGRAMMING HIMSELF OF HIS RACIST SLAVER CULTURE! It's not enough that he wants to oppose the Venatori and all that nonsense. It's not enough that in inquistion, he literally went to the part of the world where he's taught they ENSLAVE people like him and burn out their brains if they're not good little obedient pet mages.
He goes there because it's right and that doesn't make him magically a perfect and good person. He's STILL flawed, he STILL has the baggage of his culture, and ADDRESSING IT is a constant fucking undercurrent of his dialogue and interactions throughout the game. How he is both proud of everything his civilization, the oldest extant civilization in the world, and horrified by the excesses of it's bad actors, and as time goes on his REALIZATION of how horrific each and every element of it is.
Like, when the Venatori take over minrathos. It's depicted as something ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE but frankly? That implies things were pretty okay before that!
What would ahve been SO MUCH MORE INSIDEOUS, would have been to show how LITTLE things had changed. Oh, have the burned out ruin of the hide out, have a few ventatori guards standing here and there, but now show how ABANDONED AND CALLOUS they all are. They don't -need- to set up a fucking police state, Tevinter already HAS IT IN PLACE. You don't NEED fucktons of venatori guards around docktown.
But by doing it the way they did they robbed so much of the substance of Tevinter from the game.
Like I'm actually on board with some of the changes. The Broodmother thing about the darkspawn was handled just about as well as it was ever going to be handled in Origins, so them all but abandoning them from the lore as time went on is a smart move IMO. Making significant changes to the dark spawn with the blight is a big deal, and a smart move.
But the draining of life from all the rest is unpardonable.
Have the Lord of Fortune -not give a shit- about other people's culture. It's pretty, it's bling, if it was so important why wasn't it better guarded? Why was it so stealable? Have that be a FLAW in their goddamn thing as FUCKING PIRATES.
Have the found family elements of the Crows, have them have a whole blood debt and true contract society thing. Have us confront the fact that if someone fails a contract their life is FUCKING FORFEIT. Play up the whole idea that found family can be JUST as toxic. Play up the idea that these orphans and street kids taken in by a fucking -assassin cult- effectively are molded to SERVE the interests of the nation as members of the 'family'.
I was -so- incredibly happy with inquisition where they CONTRASTED Blackwall so hard with the order at large. The Grey Wardens are a -death cult- created to fight the APOCALYPSE through wrote tradition and absolutely seething loyalty to the idea that they are the thin line against the darkness.
Play that up, show how god awful the anderfels are scoured of life by the blight and still infested with dark spawn. GIVE THE FIRST WARDEN A NAME AND WHY THE FUCK IS THIS GUY IN FUCKING MINRATHOS?! Play up the ENTIRE IDEA of what's wrong with them and contrast it with -our- experience of wardens from, basically, wardens who never actually underwent the indoctrination process.
Someone else on this hellsite said that the longer you think on veilgaurd instead of playing it, the worse it gets and goddamn is that the truth.
Problematic fiction is good because it coaches us through stories on how to fucking DEAL with actual bad things.
By sanitizing your fiction you rob it of it's ability to -teach- the audience any lessons beyond 'bad people bad'.
Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard
In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.
About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.
How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.
So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.
But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.
We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.
None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.
The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.
Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.
Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.
Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.
And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.
Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.
This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.
Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.
And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.
I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.
#dragon age 4#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard#veilguard spoilers#veilguard critical#dragon age critical
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That's So True
Inspired by That's so True by Gracie Abrams
pairing: reader x drew starkey
a/n: i just realized that i've never formally introduced myself on here! my bad, my name is rhodee, 21 years old, living in europe and currently studying law. i love writing imagines that'll hopefully make you laugh, swoon or cry (sorry not sorry) a little too hard <3
stick around if you’re into dreamy characters, plot twists, or just want to scream about Drew with me!
hope i'll get to know so many of y'all on here!! okay that's all, enjoy <3
The night Drew had left for the premiere, you told yourself it was just another event, like all the others. You even tried to convince yourself you didn't mind staying home, avoiding the chaos of the red carpet. It's his night, you thought, forcing a smile as he kissed you goodbye, his cologne lingering in the air long after the door closed.
But as the hours stretched on, the gnawing sense of isolation grew. It wasn't just tonight - it had been building for months. Drew's career was skyrocketing, and with every interview, press tour and glamorous event, it felt like he was slipping further away from you. He'd promised that things would calm down after this movie, that he'd have more time. But those promises were always vague, like a finish line that kept moving further out of reach.
The photos hit social media just before midnight. Drew, looking devastatingly handsome in his suit, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his co-star, Odessa A’ Zion. The fan comments flooded in, gushing about how perfect they looked together, how the chemistry was undeniable.
You slammed your laptop shut. It wasn't jealousy - not exactly. You trusted him, but trust didn't erase the ache of feeling invisible.
The sound of Drew's keys jingling at the door pulled you from your spiralling thoughts. The clock on the wall read 1:47 a.m. You hadn't realized how late it had gotten. The door opened, and Drew stepped inside, his movements slow and careful, like he didn't want to disturb you. He probably thought you were asleep.
"Hey," you called out, your voice sharp in the quiet apartment. You couldn't hide the edge of frustration.
He paused, caught off guard, then gave a tired smile. "Hey, babe. Didn't think you'd still be up."
"Well, I am," you said, standing from the couch. "Thought you said you'd be home hours ago."
"The afterparty ran late," he explained, shrugging off his jacket. "I texted you."
"That's not the point, Drew," you snapped, your tone harsher than you intended. “This isn’t just about tonight. Do you even realize how little I see you anymore?”
His brows furrowed, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s my job, you know how crazy things get during press tour. This isn’t new.”
“That doesn’t make it easier,” you shot back. “You’re always out there, Drew. With her, with them – whoever. And I’m just .... here. Alone. Waiting for whatever scraps of time you have left.”
Drew exhaled sharply, clearly tired, and not in the mood for an argument. “This again?” he muttered, his tone clipped. “I can’t keep apologizing for doing my job.”
You flinched at his words. “I’m not asking you to apologize for working. I’m asking you to make me feel like I matter.”
“You do matter,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “But you’re acting like I can just drop everything. This is how it is y/n. This is how it’s always been.”
“No, it hasn’t,” you countered. “It’s different now. You’re different. You barely talk to me anymore. Half the time, I don’t even know what’s going on in your life. But everyone else does. The fans, the press – they all get pieces of you that I don’t.”
“That’s not true,” Drew said, shaking his head. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”
Your eyes burned with unshed tears. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t see how lonely this is for me. You’re so caught up in your world that you don’t even notice.”
Drew’s frustration boiled over. “What do you want me to do, y/n? Quit? Stop taking jobs? Would that make you happy?”
His words felt like a slap, and the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I want you to fight for this – for us. But instead, you’re treating me like a burden.”
Drew froze, his anger dissipating as he saw the pain in your expression. “Y/N,” he started, his tone softer, “You’re not a burden. I love you. You know that.”
“Do I?” you whispered. “Because it doesn’t feel like it anymore.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Drew looked at you, his face a mix of regret and helplessness. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Then don’t say anything,” you said, retreating to the bedroom before your emotions could completely overwhelm you.
You shut the door behind you, leaning against it as sobs wracked your body. You hated this – hated feeling like you were losing him. But you didn’t know how to bridge the growing distance between you.
Drew stood in the living room, staring at the closed door. He felt like the worst person in the world. He wanted to fix it; to make you understand how much you meant to him. But he was so tired – tired of the constant pull between his career and personal life, tired of feeling like he was failing at both.
He sat on the couch, his head in his hands. The apartment felt unbearably quiet without you. The fight replayed in his mind, your words cutting deeper with each pass. I want you to fight for this – for us.
He realized then how distant he’d been, how much he’d taken your support for granted. You’d been his anchor through everything, and he’d been too caught up in his own world to see how much you were struggling.
When you woke up, the sun was streaming through the curtains, but the weight in your chest hadn’t lifted. You found Drew in the kitchen, already dressed and nursing a cup of coffee. His face lit up when he saw you, but it quickly fell when he noticed your guarded expression.
“Morning,” he said softly, hesitant.
You nodded, not trusting your voice.
“I, uh, I thought about what you said last night,” he began, setting his coffee down. “And you’re right. I haven’t been fair to you.”
You looked at him, surprised. “Drew – “
“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been so focused on my career that I forgot what matters most – you. Us. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not part of my life, because you are. You’re everything to me, Y/N. And I know I haven’t shown that enough.”
Tears filled your eyes, and this time, you didn’t fight them. “I just... I miss you, Drew. I miss us.”
He crossed the room in a few strides, pulling you into his arms. “I miss us, too,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m going to do better. I promise.”
For the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, it felt like you were on the same page.
#drew starkey#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x oc#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#obx season 4#outer banks#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey angst#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey smut#drew starkey romance#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#obx rafe cameron#outer banks rafe#drew starkey imagine#Spotify
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"are you dead yet?" a calvin gabriel analysis
a/n: this movie is my current hyperfixition right now and this is just my personal take on the character, ben is a genius :) some of these quotes are out of order
thinking about the intro/beginning scene. that evil ass kid. cal gives such theater kid vibes omg.
i don't have much to say about the opening scenes, i think ben gives an amazing way of setting up the character dynamic between andre and cal. at first, it almost feels like he created an empty character out of cal, so it could be easy for someone to step into his shoes and relate to him (until later). cal is usually the one behind the camera, this isn't to say that he is less important than andre but i feel like this is where people start to create that 'soft and innocent' idea of cal. i can imagine him standing behind the camera with a stupid little grin on his face.
thinking about the firework scene; lets get the first thing straight, cal was not manipulated, gaslit or the 'soft and innocent' one here, and neither is andre. both are to blame for this. notice how excited cal is, or at least fakes it. even while watching the fireworks, he seems unamused compared to andre (who calls this out). i think cal has always been a very closed off person, he can be very ignorant and annoying as depicted at the poem scene and several scenes with andre.
thinking about cal's first solo video entry ; "everything is planned so methodically." i LOVE the way he used that word and why he used it. methodically means structured or in an orderly fashion. i think it's a perfect use of the word, the fact that at first they never had a date, they had a plan and knew exactly how they would execute it. "it's gonna be unreal. it's gonna be beautiful." cal looks off as he speaks, almost like he's spacing out while imagining it. cal knew exactly what was to come, and almost fantasized about it. the thought it was beautiful. he starts examining the camera etc, as if he wasn't just talking about a mass shooting, he treats this very lightly. as if, it's just another sadistic thought. "we are gonna leave you all behind, just sticks in the mud that andre and i have made. we are gonna walk away. you see, we see more than you do." cal is fully aware of what's to come, almost as if he's planned this for years ahead. it reminds me of the tate quote "I'm prepared for the noble war."
nearing the end of his 'monologe' he starts spacing out his words, taking longer to deliver what he's about to say as if he's trying to justify it or make someone understand why they are gonna do what they are about to do.
thinking about the party scene; cal silently makes his way out of the party to sit on the steps with andre. when he gets down to the step he basically slouches over, covering his face as if he's exhausted. "i'm just not good at parties."
he keeps his arms crossed over him but his legs out. his legs out are a sense of comfort with andre but i feel like him keeping his arms crossed is because he still feels very closed off or uncomfortable. he stays very quiet while andre talks with his cousin. apparently they have been friends since about sixth grade and cal has been with his family before, yet he still feels anxious and closed off to them.
thinking about the braces scene; ben did this in a lovely way and he's an actually genius. "his parents spent all that money for years on his teeth, just for him to blow them through his skull." - ben in the Zero Day Commantary
thinking about the grave scene; another one of my personal favorite scenes. cal is very defensive on andre during this scene as rachel basically describes him as a bad influence on cal. i feel as if cal is getting defensive because andre was able to understand him in a way no one else would, someone who understood his sadistic ideas and even help him go through with it. someone who saw the need for a 'beautiful' cleansing.
i also think he got defensive when rachel started to describe andre as like the ring leader of all of this, cal wanted his credit and i think this tied alot into the shooting scene later on.
"im insecure and i need attention." god someone get this boy a myspace page.
thinking about the camping scene; where cal jokes around with his family alot, i wonder how his younger siblings felt afterwards
thinking about the poem scene; i don't think the poem has much meaning - also basing it off what Ben said. just some edgy thing a teenager would say.
cal doesn't seem to take anything seriously. being obnoxious to the other people who were there, ignoring andre's points on trying to stay secretive. cal couldnt give less than a fuck.
im jumping far
thinking about the shooting scene;omfgomfgomfg. in the car it's like we see cal truly happy when he is about to ruin people's lives, his smile seems so genuine like he's ecstatic.
when him and andre get in the building, he seems so focused on his first shot, quick to make sure there are no more people.
don't even get me started on the library scene omg
the way cal walks ontop of the tables, showing a sign of authority over everyone else. a moment where he can finally feel larger than others, where he no longer has to worry about staying in his little bubble.
"are you dead yet?" is my favorite quote from the scene. it's filled with so much anger and almost irony. he's taunting them, he laughed at the idea of someone trying to talk him out of it. i think this was the most freeing moment for cal.
i also think he was ready to die, his last conversation to andre says so much. telling him "you're done." isn't of "i'm done" or "we're done." he was prepared to paint the ceiling with his brains - while andre was so hesitant. UGH I COULD TALK ABOUT THID MOVIE FOREVER
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Hello I hope you're doing well.
I swear your Fics get me through the day❤️
I love the way you write about the boys!
I have a (sort of angsty I think) request:
How do you think each of them will handle/what they're gonna do if they aren't exactly the reader's/MC's type? Like, they're not in a relationship with MC yet, and they're in the stage where they're starting to court MC, and then they find out that MC's type is like their exact opposite, and that's where they sort of notice MC doesn't really consider them as a potential partner because of this
Zayne has never really thought that his feelings for you have been reciprocated. Somehow, it slips his mind to think that you could ever like him, especially since he's seen the types of people you had crushes on growing up. He'd never ask you on a date because of this, happy enough to stay your friend. That's why he was so surprised when you asked him on a date, the happiness in his chest dissipating as he began to realise that you simply didn't seem to have it in you to love him as much as he loves you.
His response is simply to break things off. He tells you not to try and force yourself onto him, that if you don't like him you don't have to pretend you do to fulfill some sort of perceived expectation you think he has. He doesn't really let the conversation progress further than that, moving past it. The two of you end up never really being the same, still able to be friends and hang out together but there's always something just bubbling under the surface.
Xavier doesn't realise what's wrong until he sees the way you look at other people. You do your best not to stray while you're sort of with Xavier but you also haven't had a conversation about exclusivity yet, despite the fact that he is wholly devoted to you. He doesn't entertain the idea of breaking things off, not thinking that things were that bad.
You end up breaking things off, telling him that it's really nothing he's done to you. You just didn't know how to feel, struggling to move into more romantic feelings for him. He takes it surprisingly well you think, acting as though things are totally normal. You don't realise that he's become even quieter than usual, not really taking team missions anymore and going out of his way to avoid you. He doesn't know how to cope with his feelings for you and a desire to make you happy, ending up further into avoidance.
Rafayel is devastated. He can tell immediately that you don't really like him, not in the same way you seem to like other people. A part of him wants to delude himself into thinking that maybe it's just a phase, that you'd eventually fall for him the way that literally everybody else seems to. The other part of him is angry, incredibly so. He doesn't like the idea of you messing with his feelings, being cold to you before you can reject him.
The two of you just end up drifting apart. He doesn't return your calls or messages anymore, internally begging for your attention but also being too irrational to consider that maybe if you two talked something could be figured out. He thought that being by your side would be okay as long as he could touch you but your rejection did nothing but make him spiral.
Sylus doesn't take your denial well. You aren't fully aware of it right away, but he's known from the start that you don't really care for him as much as he does you. He doesn't want to do anything about it, seeing if he could slowly encourage you into accepting him in further. He'd do everything he can to try and convince your relationship to progress further but things just seem to remain stagnant.
You'd have to tell him that things just aren't working out. The two of you struggle to maintain a cordial friendship afterwards. That's not to say you can't depend on him - just the fact that it's hard for him to act as comfortable around him as he used to be. He still aims to keep you safe but you lack that camaraderie that the two of you had.
#love and deepspae x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#zayne x reader#l&ds zayne x reader#lads zayne x reader#l&ds xavier x reader#xavier x reader#lads xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#l&ds rafayel x reader#lads rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#l&ds sylus x reader#lads sylus x reader
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Guess who’s back speaking their shit ! This guyyyyyy ! . Allow me to write a long ass paragraph explaining everything about why I am NOT going to take back what I said.
First off. Comparing anything I said in that paragraph to racism is wild. Not ONCE did I mention race, and it was a completely irrelevant and honestly just false comparison. Hating someone for being downright ableist is SO much different than being racist. And I can guarantee you, I will never hate anyone for their skin color or race. That is something they are born with, and cannot change. And the diversity of human beings is single handedly the most beautiful thing to me.
Now. A more accurate comparison, if you will, would be saying something along the lines of this: imagine you broke your leg because of someone else’s actions, and it causes you a lot of discomfort, pain, and changes the way you have to function. Often you get frustrated with things you’re unable to do the same as someone without a broken leg, or even get super angry at the person who was the cause of your broken leg, sometimes finding yourself daydreaming about how much better your current state would be if you hadn’t been around them or left the situation sooner. Now imagine the next day you see someone else with a cast on their leg, and you think “oh! Someone who may have a similar experience and understand my struggles!” Just for them to tell you their leg was never broken before and they simply “wanted” to have a broken leg.
Imagine the pure frustration that would give. All the thoughts of everything and all the pain and regret and rage you face daily now being mimicked by someone who woke up and decided to claim they had it simply because they wanted to. THATS what it’s like seeing an endo.
I will say this now. Plural means the exact same thing as a system. There is NO difference. There is no such thing as “systems have trauma, but if they say they’re just plural then they aren’t claiming to have a disorder!” Because that’s bullshit.
Endos cause a lot of harm to our communities, even if they aren’t aware. The misuse of terms and stealing of terms from cultural practices, invading our spaces sometimes with purpose to harm us, convincing actual systems their repressed trauma or even remembered trauma doesn’t exist or wasn’t bad, and wide spread misinformation highly effects people like me who have to live with the actual disorder.
I’ve seen a lot of systems (myself included) who are uncomfortable calling themselves plural. Although it is a correct, and sometimes more used in medical settings term for systems; the association of the word with endos who think slamming another label on themself justifies blatant ableism has made that term unbearably difficult to use on ourselves. I’ve seen the same with the words headmates, host, fictives, and other system terms.
“Tulpa Systems” are stealing a cultural term, AND misusing it at that. Tulpamancy is a term from Tibetan Buddhism. Original concepts of it found in the Buddhist Niramāņakāya, and later came into traditions of Mysticism. It is NOT when a 14 year old on tiktok decides they want a serious mental health condition and “creates an alter” for themself. Tulpas are part of a culture. And are spiritual practices.
Invading spaces that aren’t made for you can be very harmful. Even if unintentional or seemingly “harmless” those spaces are MADE for certain people. Those certain people need places they feel comfortable being themselves with other people like them. That’s very important. Something I’ll compare it to is this; I get very uncomfortable when an abled body person gets in the school elevator with me. The elevators at my school are made specifically for disabled individuals and those who cannot walk up stairs. It with the exception of escorts, when someone who is perfectly able bodied gets on, it creates a tension for me. They’re invading a space made for me and people like me, simply because they wanted to. I feel it’s unfair to me, because I’m not able to fit in comfortably in their spaces, I cannot walk up stairs with ease, yet they can, the elevator is a space where I can feel comfortable and capable with the abilities I have, and I feel very uncomfortable when that’s invaded by others. And it’s the same with system spaces. I’ve ranted to my friends countless times about how I never feel comfortable in the online system community. My spaces get invaded constantly by people who think they have a right to steal what should be a safe space for trauma survivors. I have grown accustomed to the reality that I will never have a space online that I will be completely safe from ableism in this community do to endos. Even in real life I have faced people in the eyes who faked my disorder just because they thought it was cool. They faked and copied my real struggles, lied about experiences and made me miserable. And I feel like i don’t even have to speak about the endos who come into spaces to harm us. We can all tell that’s fucked up.
CDDs are a trauma response. And something it does, and it’s whole point, is to hide your trauma. A lot of people with CDDs will not remember what happened. It’s what makes it so tricky to cope with and heal from. I’ve had a very close friend of mine ignore their plurality and not take steps to heal due to them being convinced they didn’t have trauma or wasn’t enough trauma and they were an endo. That is so incredibly harmful. I cannot stress that enough. Telling people they can have a CDD without trauma, even putting that option of being plural without trauma is SO harmful. Because young people who may realize they have a CDD and not be educated on them will brush it off as being an endo, spread that misinformation, and most dangerously; not be able to take the proper steps to heal. Lucky for me, I understood that it was a trauma related disorder, so I was able to get into therapy, get on medication to help myself combat my depression, and find coping skills that were healthy for me to work on growing and coping with my CDD and other disorders. Convincing someone their CDD isn’t serious, or that it’s not trauma related takes that away from them. It takes away the realization of the need to heal, it takes away the chance for them to cope with serious trauma. And it can even worsen it. People with trauma who categorize themself as endo or are categorized by others as endo may be even more effected, feeling like trauma is now a competition or that they aren’t enough to have a CDD that they may actually be struggling with and wanting help for. I hope you understand how harmful that is.
The spread of misinformation is WILD. One of the first things usually brought to me by my friends at school who don’t know much about DID is usually some misinformation they saw from an endo. And of course I don’t mind educating them properly at all, but it honestly hurts me a bit to see some of the crazy things I’ve seen them believe because of how much misinformation people spread on the internet about this disorder.
CDDs aren’t fun, they aren’t quirky. They’re serious trauma stemmed disorders formed to help someone survive. It’s not “having silly characters I like in my head”. It’s NEEDING them to keep you alive and as stable as possible when in horrible conditions whenever you are in the most vulnerable stage of your life.
Blah blah. Internet rant. Blah blah. I can already feel the comments calling me a loser and telling me to blow up or something 💀 like ima lowkey be mean for a sec but do y’all ever shut up? Learn to literally educate yourself instead of believing a 13 year old who wants the entire cast of Hazbin Hotel in their head cus they think it’s quirky (no shade to actual systems with hazbin alters)
Get ur ableist asses outta here fr 💀💀💀💀😭😭😭 making my life hell
Tw: syscourse ,
Endos DNI with this post.
Hot take; I shouldn’t have to be terrified to read / like posts. I should have to read the tags to make sure it’s not posted by an endo trying to infiltrate our spaces. I shouldn’t have to fear that the thing I’m gonna read is going to send me into a spiral because it’s gonna be some stupid ass shit about how “traumagenic systems are losers” or whatever the other stuff endos say about us is.
WE SHOULD NOT HAVE TO HAVE AN ALTER WHO SITS OVER MY SHOULDER EVERY TIME I OPEN THIS APP THAT CAN PULL ME AWAY INCASE SOMETHING GETS BAD.
THAT SHOULD NOT BE A THING I, A TRAUMATIZED SYSTEM, SHOULD HAVE TO DEAL WITH WHEN LOOKING FOR COMFORT OR SILLY CONTENT TO CHEER ME UP REGARDING THE TRAUMA FORMED DISORDER THAT WILL FOREVER MAKE MY LIFE DIFFICULT.
“Endos don’t hurt anyone🥺🥺🥺”
yes they fucking do.
- Sharkbite
#syscourse#anti endo#systempunk#traumagenic system#endos dni#.•+*sharkbite🦈*+•.#endos don’t fucking interact#endos fuck off#endos aren't real#endos are ableist#long post#tw syscourse#tw endos#my ass cannot shut up#professional yapper
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Hey folks, this post is super personal and basically a long rant about health issues and the state of the healthcare system, so please proceed with caution especially if any of that is triggering to you. But if anyone else who maybe has some experience with these things and wants to offer some advice, I welcome it because I’m truly at a loss right now.
I’m really trying to be hopeful that my health issues will get figured out and I’ll finally get help for what I think is an autoimmune condition that is existing just under the diagnosable levels, but I’m losing any faith I had left in the healthcare system. The truth is I haven’t felt normal since 2021. I never felt better than I did while I was pregnant and then the year afterward. (Aside from the blood pressure issues at first lol) I keep find myself missing who I was back then. I was able to do so much, hike so far and high up, I had so much energy and I felt great. My blood pressure was under control, my blood sugar was perfect without restricting what I ate, my body wasn’t constantly inflamed and in pain, I didn’t have multiple migraines a month, and I didn’t have problems sleeping. I keep asking myself over and over what I did differently then, but I just can’t understand why I got so bad so quickly while they keep telling me it’s my fault because I’m just fat and not eating well or exercising enough. It’s maddening and I’m tired of hearing that. The reason I’m not exercising as much any more is because I’m constantly in pain or dealing with being sick. (And I eat SO well, better than I ever have before like wtf. And I do still exercise to be clear, I’m in nature every change I get.)
I was really hoping that I wasn’t going to face this here like I did in America, but it really seems like doctors just do not care about your symptoms and if you’re not presenting with the exact blood levels they studied to diagnose things, they’re just convinced you’re either making everything up or exaggerating.
So far I know I have: insulin resistance, high blood pressure (managed), PCOS, I’m hypermobile (which has been confirmed but no one’s bothered to look into it and any possible comorbidities), I have lipedema in my arms, hips, and thighs, chronic migraines, subclinical hypothyroidism, iron deficient anemia that I have to keep getting infusions for, and basically my whole life I’ve had headaches and heart palpitations. Phew.
I’m just at a loss here. This past year alone I’ve gained 30 lbs without changing anything, and if I bring this up I’m just told to stop eating carbs which is just absolutely not helpful. It’s clearly a symptom of whatever is going on and not the other way around. I’m so tired! And on top of the usual symptoms, I now spend basically October through April being sick with various coughs, infections, etc with little breaks of being normal in between.
Has anyone else dealt with this and have you found anything that’s helped? I try really hard to take care of myself, but it feels like these days nothing is really making a difference anymore.
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lucky pt 2 - theo nott x reader
after the Felix Felicis incident, your relationship with theo has dramatically changed, for better and for worse
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
a/n - by popular demand! rip my title tho the best alternative I could come up with was ‘feminine ass-kicking’ but idk if that’s too out there. also I’ve started part 3 too! (which should be the final part) this was kind of inspired by gilmore girls season 6 :)
tropes/warnings - academic rivals to lovers, angst, slow burn, miscommunication
word count - 2.1k
The Felix Felicis incident had given the both of you much to think about. Outwardly, you maintained the appearance that nothing had changed between the two of you, taking snipes at each other every now and then. But every night, before you’d fall asleep, your mind would wander back to that evening at the Astronomy Tower, the sight of Theo and the harsh contours of his face softened by the forgiving setting sun. Every night, he asks if you have anything else to say. Every night, you shake your head.
And as much as you’d like to pretend otherwise, things had changed between you. Theo became more reserved, somehow, less determined to spar with you. Your fights didn’t hold anywhere near the spark they once did. And you hated it. You hated that it bothered you, you hated that it upset you, you hated that it was all you could think about every time you were in the same classroom as him. It just wasn’t fair.
What also wasn’t fair was your entire group falling sick the day before an extremely crucial Potions project was due. They were all more than apologetic, but it didn’t change the fact that months worth of work to complete in one night if you wanted even a semblance of a chance at passing.
Which was how Theodore Nott found you in the library late one night, pouring over five gnarly tomes on Potions from the Medieval era, writing what looked like three essays at once. You flinched when you heard a noise near the bookshelves, and your mood wasn’t much improved when you saw who it was.
“Trying to read every book in one night, L/N?”
You wanted to roll your eyes. After weeks of stunted conversation, now that it was just the two of them, he was suddenly feeling chatty?
“I'm busy. Buzz off.”
Ignoring you, Theo crept closer, tilting his head to read what you were haphazardly scribbling.
“The Potions project? But we started that months ago. And it’s due tomorrow.”
You swept the papers up out of his sight. You were already in a testy mood to begin with and you were in no mood to have him crow over your bad luck.
“What part of ‘buzz off’ don’t you get?”
“Where are your groupmates?”
“Sick.”
“Sick?”
“They all went on some Hogsmeade trip together, the whole lot of them. They all caught it from each other and they’re supposed to be stupidly contagious.”
“But their reports should be fine.”
“They were, until Madam Pomfrey declared them a biohazard.” Your head was beginning to hurt from the bottled-up frustration. You knew it wasn’t their fault for falling sick, but now you had to pull an all-nighter just so you wouldn’t fail. You stood and walked past him to the shelves, pulling out any and every book that remotely looked like it might help.
You glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how much time you’d need. There was no way you could get it all done by 9 am. Feeling quite proud of yourself for successfully giving Theo the same cold shoulder he had been giving you the past couple of weeks, you walked to the library telephone and started dialing the number to Slughorn’s office. One of the only people who could help you now was Jeeves, Slughorn’s teaching assistant, provided he was in a good enough mood.
“Jeeves, hi. Yes, I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you could delay the Potions project submission by just an hour? I’m sure Slughorn wouldn’t mind. It’s just my entire team fell sick all at once, and Madam Pomfrey threw out everything they’ve touched in the past three days, including their reports. I know it's due 9 am but couldn’t you bend the rule a little, just this once? For me?”
You rubbed your forehead anxiously, an unpleasant expression on your face as you tried to follow whatever Jeeves was yammering about punctuality. When he moved on to the importance of personal accountability, you felt like you were going to combust if you didn’t shut him up soon.
“Y’know, Jeeves,” you interrupted with a dramatic sigh, dropping your voice, “just the other day I was thinking about that one Quidditch match you had played a couple of years back. Yes, that one game you subbed in for the Chaser? I have to say, you’re no slouch yourself out on the pitch. You sure look like you know your way around a broom. Yes, exactly, way better than those oafs on the team. I always thought it was a shame you didn’t make the cut - one hour. Yes, yes, that’s all I need. Thank you, thank you!”
You hung up, already feeling much more hopeful with the one-hour extension. All that was left to do was slave away for the rest of the night, and by morning you’d have a more than acceptable report ready.
“…what was that?”
You started, having nearly forgotten who was with you. “What was what?” You asked, half-distracted, once again absorbed in rearranging the layout of your Potions project.
“That, with the - ‘you look like you know your way around a broom?’ Really?”
You glanced at Theo, frowning. “Well, how do you get what you want?”
You turned your gaze back to the book splayed out in front of you, missing the brief look of longing that passed over Theo’s face. “Hmm. Bribery, mainly.”
“Right,” you said slowly, a hint of sarcasm in your tone underneath the flurry of activity. “That trust fund isn’t going to spend itself, now is it?”
“My trust fund doesn’t kick in ‘til I’m 25, tesoro.”
You wanted to kick yourself when your heart fluttered over the stupidly endearing pet name. You didn’t realise how much you missed it. “Oh, oh, of course. Mr. Moneybags here is just absolutely rolling in it even without his trust fund. How could I forget?”
“Mr. Moneybags? That’s the best you can come up with?”
You huffed without any real annoyance. You walked over to where Theo was lounging as he lazily watched you spin like a top between the bookshelves. He had the decency to sit up slightly as you approached and dumped the stack of papers into his lap.
“Look, Nott, I’m on a time crunch here. So either help me or get out.”
Theo looked up at you without a trace of mockery in his otherwise teasing blue eyes. You willed yourself to not look away.
“Yes, ma'am.”
You made the mistake of holding his gaze. A beat passed, then two. It seemed that it was surprisingly impossible for either of you to look away. Finally, you snapped out of it, mentally giving yourself a good shake as you hurried out of his magnetic field back to the table. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought you were flirting with him.
“Wha -?”
“Toast. From breakfast.”
You glanced around the room bleary-eyed, seizing Theo’s wrist a little harder than necessary as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. As much as you hated to admit it, last night had gone better than you could have ever hoped. It helped to have another pair of hands and a brain that was almost as good as yours. Unfortunately, you must have nodded off at some point,
Cursing as you finally made out the time on his watch, you peeled off the piece of parchment stuck to your face and continued writing, even as every muscle in your palm protested. Theo rolled his eyes and stuck the toast in your mouth, which you mindlessly nibbled on for the next hour or so.
When you were finally done, you stuck your group’s names on the cover page and the two of you hurried down to Slughorn’s office a little before 10 o clock. Jeeves, good man that he was, was still in. But your relief was short-lived.
Jeeves did an insufferably exaggerated impression of reading the time as you walked in. “It’s 2 past 10. I’m afraid I can’t accept your submission.”
This was it. You reached your limit. You weren’t running on what was at most 2 hours of sleep just for some self-important dimwit of a teaching assistant to refuse your submission.
You grabbed the collar of Jeeves’ shirt, manhandling him with hours' worth of frustration. “Listen here, Jeeves. You will accept my group’s submission if you want to walk out of here with every part of your anatomy intact. You will take these essays I have here and you will accept them graciously, Merlin help you if you don’t.”
“What happened to using your feminine wiles?” asked Theo, thoroughly enjoying himself.
“Yeah, well, now I’m more in the mood for a feminine ass-kicking. Jeeves, come on. ”
You only released him when Theo placed a calming hand on your wrist. He reached into his pocket, offering something to a very red-faced and highly affronted Jeeves.
“C’mon, Jeeves. Maybe we could make this more worth your while.”
You hesitated, torn. On the one hand, you were raised better than to bribe people or accept financial aid, especially when you didn’t really need it. On the other hand, this project was worth 40% of your grade and Jeeves was being a little bitch.
Jeeves mulled over the coins in his palm, taking his sweet time appraising them. Just as it looked like he was about to ask for something a little more, you slammed a hand on his desk.
“Alright, fine, hand it over.”
Once you’d finally successfully submitted your project, the two of you walked out of Slughorn’s office in a daze. Without the stress of the impending deadline to act as a buffer between you, a certain awkwardness started to set in. Theo had his hands in his pockets, rubbing at a scuffed patch on the floor with his shoe.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you started, but he waved off your protests. Still, no one pulls an all-nighter for just about anyone.
“So how much did you give him?”
Theo sighed. “L/N.”
But you were already pulling out your coin purse. “It can’t have been more than what I have on me now.”
“Y/N.” You stopped counting out your coins. He was looking at you strangely, like he didn’t understand what he was doing either. “Forget it. Really.”
Reluctantly, you pocketed your coin purse. A hysterical sort of giddiness was starting to set in. “We did it.”
“You did it.”
Maybe it was the long night of endless writing or your grumbling stomach. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at you now, with a smile so sincere like he was genuinely so proud of you. Whatever it was, you took a step towards him, and then another before throwing your arms around his neck.
It was a little less dignified than you would have hoped, what with you trembling with barely any sleep and the vestiges of caffeine-induced adrenaline and him having the audacity of being a whole head taller than you since sixth year. But he steadied you before you could tip back, his arms resting around your waist. You had never shaken hands, much less hugged each other, but something about it felt so warm, comforting, familiar. The feel of his solid body pressed against yours didn’t feel so terrible.
But as you pulled apart, you caught sight of his expression, and your face fell. He wasn’t smiling like you, not anymore.
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, immediately feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. He still wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look angry either. He looked - you couldn’t tell how he looked. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear almost regretfully, before turning to leave.
“Don’t.”
Theo paused. He didn’t turn to face you.
“Don’t do this, Nott. Don’t be cold. Don’t be distant.”
He adjusted the shoulder strap of his satchel. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was nervous. “I have Charms to get to.” He turned his head slightly but not enough to meet your gaze. “You should get a proper breakfast.”
And then he left, as if he had no idea what you were talking about. As if the last twelve hours hadn’t occurred. As if he hadn’t felt the void festering between you the past couple of weeks.
As if he didn’t care about you.
#theo nott x reader#theo nott#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott angst
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