#the idea that anywhere was better than there

[okwonyo]

INTO YOU, 或 𓈒𓈒 navigating a secret relationship.

❛𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇’ 𝗎𝗌. 𝗌𝗈, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝗅𝖾𝗍’𝗌 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𓈒𓈒 ❜

𝒾 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ╱ r! 16OO fluff ── non idol au skinship kissing ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀i miss summer and i desperately need winter to come huhu >< idea from my favorite oomf @soov 🎀 enjoy !

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

HEESEUNG

the cold air brushes your face as you step outside. you wrap your arms around your body, trying to get warmth by hugging yourself. 

you walk to the usual corner where your boyfriend organizes your little meeting. the weather gets colder as you walk to it, you swear it. 

it puts you in a bad mood, you can feel your eyebrow furrowing and a frown forming on your lips. 

there is a fire that lights in your freezing heart when you finally see his face. he leaning on the wall next to him, and he seems to be smiling at your misery. 

“what?” you say, harsher than you initially attended to— it doesn’t seem to bother him. not in the slightest, his smile grows wider. you smile as well, “what?” 

standing straight, he steps closer to you. so close that you have to tilt your head up to see him properly. “nothing,” he shrugs, “jus’ wanted to see you.” 

you don’t answer, just staring at him blankly. although the warmth of his words touches you, you sniff, “‘m cold, hee,” you state. 

the said ‘hee’ laughs, loudly. in a way that makes his adam apple move, in a way that makes you flush, in a way that keeps your eyes on him. 

he steps even closer, your chest gets pressed against his. he wraps his arms around you putting his face in the crook of your neck: 

“i’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, you don’t hug him back. even though you close your eyes. “is it better now?”

you only hum before adding, “i hope no one catches us.”

JAY

the first thing you feel on your skin is the sunlight peeking through the windows’ blinds. it kisses you slowly out of sleep, welcoming you warmly in the new day. 

the second thing you feel is the gentle pressure around you and the circle of warmth— that is not yours—swallowing you whole. you hide your face further into the body in front of you. 

the arm holds you closer as you hug the body tighter. 

all your senses slowly awoke and you can progressively recognize the scent enveloping your nose. 

it smells like cologne, like a real man, like home, like home, like—

“jay!” you exclaim, jolting awake. the man groans next to you, his arm sliding on your thighs. you tap him, “jay, wake up!”

his deep, sleepy voice emerges from him, “what?” he almost whines. 

“we fell asleep,” you whisper loudly, looking at your barely conscious boyfriend. that should also definitely be anywhere but in your bed. “you are not supposed to be there!”

it looks like it takes a while for him to register, but when he finally does, he almost falls on the floor. 

he gets his shirt back on himself, kisses you quickly and escapes from the window.

JAKE

he loves when you kiss him. he loves when your soft lips brush his skin and when your mouth rests on his ever so softly. 

and you know it. he tells you always, how much he loves it, hushed and hurriedly between two kisses in the corner— hiding from the public eye. 

this is why you already know, from the look in his eyes weighing on you from right across you, that he wants to kiss you. 

he watches you amongst the crowd of all your mutual friends together and when they all leave, back turned toward you, he stays. 

he holds your waist and, in a sort of instinct, you cup his face. 

you aim for his pretty nose first, then you peck his cheek two times in a row before finally kissing him on the mouth.

“i got to go,” he whispers against your mouth before kissing one more time. 

when you look one last time on his face, you giggle— seeing lipstick strains about everywhere you kissed him. he wears them like tattoos and leaves before you can even tell him anything. 

(he is cheeks blossom with a red hue when his friends tell him about it.) 

SUNGHOON

you barely survive the entire day with someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in the tiniest room possible.

surprise doesn’t over take you anymore. you already know why you are here and who you are with. 

your boyfriend’s hand cups your jaw, gently and carefully. he tilts your head up, just a little to be able to lean in a bit and kiss you as your fingers slide in his black thick hair. 

“hi,” he says when he pulls away a tad to tilt his head to the other side. 

he kisses you senseless. loving and passionate like he usually does. his tongue slides in your mouth. you let him lick the inside of it instead of greeting him back.

his free hand hugs your waist, pulling you closer to his body, impossibly so.

your boyfriend is all over you. he takes over your senses and swallows whole. you cannot think of anything else but his hot tongue teasing yours. 

until someone tries to unlock the door and you jump, breaking the kiss and pulling a weird sound out of your lover’s throat.

“did you just bite me?” he hushes and you apologize, eyes still worriedly looking over the door. he chuckles, “i liked that.”

you beat his chest with your fist playfully.

SUNOO

he swears to you—brags even— whenever he has the chance that he is not a jealous man. 

you almost started to believe it, if it wasn’t for how often he brings it up. almost as if he is trying to gaslight you or desperately trying to convince himself, or rather manifest it. 

and you could even consider it, rethink it when you are on your own. but you can always feel it, see it in his face. 

the heaviness of his gaze whispers the truth to you. whenever you are talking to another man a few feet ahead of him. 

in your peripheral vision, his arms are crossed under his chest. and his teeth are pressed so tight against one another, that his jaw is more defined than ever.

he comes to you as soon as the stranger leaves, “who was that?” he asks, nodding his head towards the leaving man.

you study his frustrated face with an amused look. his eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth is frowned— he looks cute, if you were to be honest. 

you opt for something funnier, “are you jealous?”

he instantly opens his mouth, to defend himself and closes it immediately. 

his sighs, “yes,” he states. shock explodes in your stomach. “i don’t like seeing guys flirt with you,” he leans to whisper the rest in your ear: “when they don’t know you are already taken.” 

JUGWON

this entire situation seems to be very funny to your—secret—boyfriend.

it is no surprise that he is annoying in private. his fingertips melting in your sides, him tickling you, your skin getting pinched and getting a yelp out of you each time. just because he can.

and just because he can, he does his best to get a reaction out of you in public. 

sometimes, he stares at you from across the room, tilting his head to the side with a grin when your eyes lock. you ignore him each time. 

sometimes, his knuckles brush smoothly and ever so softly against your skin as he passes by you. his touch stings all day long.

today, he aims for a mixture of it. 

“look,” your friend whispers to you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. her finger is pointed to his direction when you look at her, “he is doing it again.”

your boyfriend is staring at you from across the end of the hall you are walking down. he is walking towards your direction, but you tell your friend to ignore him.

he takes a step to the side as he approaches, exchanging places with his friend to walk next to you. his fingers quickly wrap around yours as your shoulder brushes. 

he holds onto it enough to make your heart skip a beat, but not enough for anyone to see.

RIKI

his hoodies are way too soft and comfortable for you to not steal. 

he always manages to find the sweetest material. the kind of tissue that his scent soaks into perfectly. a tissue that keeps his warmth days after he wears it. 

you love to be enveloped into that said material. so big and perfectly cozy like the embarrassed he locks you in.

“you want it?” he once asked you. seeing the way you buried your face in his hoodie. you shook your head against his torso, “i insist, sweetheart.”

you didn’t fight against his own wants and you find yourself in it a few days later. the cold wind doesn’t go through it when your coat gives up for a mere second and you hold onto it for dear life.

you bury your nose in it when you miss your lovely boyfriend. his cologne is still impregnated in it— it makes your stomach fill with butterflies.

when you meet each other at his, he comments: “isn’t that my hoodie you are wearing?” your cheeks get pink. “were you really walking around with that on your back?” 

you study his own outfit before answering, “and isn’t that my shirt you are wearing?” you pinch his cheek and he laughs. “i thought you hated pink, mh?”

you taught him well.

ㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[keenanski]

I don’t even know where to begin, because words feel so small compared to what I feel for you. From the moment you walked into my life, it was as if every piece of me finally clicked into place. I always believed in the idea of “home,” but I never understood it fully until I found you. You are my home, the place where I feel safe, understood, and deeply loved. With you, I’ve arrived at the destination I’ve spent my entire life searching for. You’ve brought a light into my life that I didn’t even know was missing. There’s something so extraordinary about you, Tia—your kindness, your strength, your beauty inside and out. Being with you feels like standing in the warmth of the sun, and yet it’s so much more than that. You make me feel whole, as if every gap in my heart was always waiting for you to fill it. You don’t just complete me; you make me better. Every moment we share is a gift I cherish. Whether we’re laughing together over something silly, talking late into the night, or simply sitting in quiet comfort, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. You’ve taught me what love really means, not just in words, but in action, in commitment, in the way you care so deeply for me and our family. And then there are our children. There are no words for the joy I feel when I look at them, the perfect little reflections of our love. They are the most beautiful reminder of what we’ve built together, and I couldn’t imagine a more incredible partner to walk this journey with. You’re not just my love; you’re the most amazing mother, the cornerstone of everything that matters in my life. When I think about our future, I don’t wish for anything more than what we already have, because being with you is more than I ever thought I deserved. You are my greatest blessing, my biggest joy, and the person I will love with every part of me for the rest of my life. Thank you for being you, for loving me, and for creating this incredible life with me. With you, I’m not just happy I’m complete. I’ve finally arrived, and I never want to be anywhere else but with you. @tiamartinez

[kngrose]

can we get some bully headcanons for sevika? Please 😫🥵

bully! sevika headcanons

WARNINGS: bullying, harassment, implied degradation, implied dehumanization, abuse, violence

AN: anon………… you might be onto something…

When it comes to bullying you, Sevika takes it to a different, almost sadistic level. There’s something particularly unsettling about the way Sevika derives enjoyment from your discomfort and pain, especially because she perceives you as weak and vulnerable.

It’s not enough that she’s already double your size, her sheer height that towers yours, and her mass— inclined top to bottom with muscle. Or that she could easily snap you in two if she so pleased.

She’ll be testing the waters at first; bumping your shoulders harshly when she passed you, hard enough to make you stumble back. Or tripping you occasionally, watching your arms flail fruitlessly to catch yourself.

Because bullying isn't simply about asserting dominance; it’s about relishing in the power she holds over the situation. It’s about drawing a reaction out of you, it fufills her in a way nothing else does.

She’ll step up her game once she realizes a little bump on your shoulders just isn’t enough. Now, she’s spewing insults and making harsh threats. Talking poorly of you amongst others in your presence; all to make you acutely aware of the hierarchy. The dynamic. She’s the one in control, you don’t get to ignore her.

And there’s never a sense of empathy or remorse in her actions—only a dark satisfaction that feeds her ego and solidifies her position of power over you.

She’s harsh, she’s cold. She incredibly insensitive. What really makes Sevika stand out is the fact that she takes her time, patience is a virtue. She’s calculated with what she says and does; makes sure its always something that’ll hit the nail on the head.

When she speaks, it’s laced with a cold, condescending tone. She finds content in making you feel small, belittling your every attempt to stand up for yourself. Her words are like ice, cutting through any bravado you might try to muster.

She’ll give you orders, ones that are humiliating and degrading. Ones that almost dehumanize you. Dont walk towards her, crawl. What reason do you have to walk anyways? Not like you’re going anywhere she isn’t. And in addition to that, there’s no need to take a chair either, you’ll be just fine on your knees at her feet. She doesn't need to raise her voice; the venom in her tone is enough to make your stomach turn.

She makes it very clear that you’d better do what she says.

And if you hesitate? That’s when Sevika leans in, her proximity a reminder that she’s always in control. The heavy threat of physical violence is there, lurking in her body language, and that’s usually all it takes to make you pliant. You have no idea what she’s capable of.

“You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to break something."

When she does decide to escalate, it’s a careful and well thought out move. She might corner you in a quiet, isolated spot, where your fear is palpable, and she can enjoy the way your breath hitches when you realize there’s nowhere to run.

She’ll impose her massive size on you, blocking you in. Trapping you. It’s maddening, not know what her next move is.

And if you try to fight her, she’ll be elated. She couldn’t miss that small fire erupting in your eyes. A look nothing short of sadistic etching it’s way onto her face. It’s thrilling, she thinks. It’s almost cute, watching you aim poorly executed blows at her face and chest; your form is horrible, you’re doing more damage to yourself than anything. She’ll snicker, because it’s funny, and because she knows it’ll discourage you.

She’ll relish in this moment, she loves to watch the fire dim.

“Feeling brave, puppy?” She’ll sneer, and she’ll push you. Hard. It’s sends you backwards, just barely keeping your balance. Its the first time shes used her full force on you. “Fight me, then.” She’ll follow up with another shove, this one knocking you off your feet.

And she’ll bend down, gripping the collar of your shirt to reel you back up. “On your feet. Fight.” She doesn’t even have to hit you, she realizes. She’s just tossing you around, pushing and shoving and pushing and shoving. Watching you hit every corner in the room. “Fight back.” She’ll bark, but she knows that you won’t.

She can see it manifesting on you, clear as day. You’re tired; you can hardly keep your balance up. There’s small bruises forming on your shoulders and arms; from being shoved into different surfaces.

But there’s something else she notices as she grabs you off the floor again, your scared, tired eyes meeting hers.

That fire, it’s gone.

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist to be notified whenever i post, xx

taglist: @opropheticsoul @randomperson291 @arevik2345 @gravegoer @d3eathnotes @nikaachuuuu

[jaeyunluvbot]

i miss you, i'm sorry

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

word count 𝟅𝟈 5.3k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your apartment felt too quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy on your chest. Felix stood in the middle of the living room, his hands in his hoodie pockets, his face unreadable. It was one of the rare times you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that scared you.

“You deserve better than this,” he said, voice soft but firm, tinged with an unfamiliar edge.

“I deserve you,” you argued, your voice cracking. Your hands trembled at your sides, and you didn’t know if it was from anger or heartbreak. Maybe both.

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a grimace as he avoided your eyes. “Y/N… I can’t give you what you need. I’m always gone, and when I’m here, I’m still not here. You’ve been patient, more than I deserve, but I see what it’s doing to you.”

Your chest tightened, and the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I’m not asking for anything else, Lix. I know it’s hard, but I love you, and I thought—” Your voice caught. “I thought you loved me too.”

“I do,” he said, and his voice cracked in a way that made your knees feel weak. “That’s why I’m letting you go.” You could see tears welling up in his beautiful eyes and that made you want to run to him even more, but you hold yourself back, not sure he’d even want you near him.

You watch as he grabs his backpack off the floor, sending one last look at you, sighing when you refuse to meet his eyes, “I’m doing this for you, Y/N, I love you too much to keep doing this to you.”

You finally look into his eyes and he feels his heart splinter into pieces as he sees your red-rimmed eyes, tears slowly falling down your cheeks, “if you loved me, you’d stay.”

He sighs once more and turns away from you, heading towards the door, “I hope you can move on and find someone better, I’ll send the guys to pick up the rest of my stuff later.”

You desperately want to grab him, to scream in his face that he’s hurting you more by leaving, but instead you watch him go, shoulders heaving as you struggle to breathe.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The sound of the doorbell pulled you from the haze you’d been lost in for the past week. For a moment, you debated not answering it. The idea of facing anyone felt unbearable, but the bell rang again, persistent and sharp.

With a deep breath, you wiped at your face, hoping to look somewhat composed, and opened the door.

It was Chan, Hyunjin, and Seungmin.

“Hey,” Chan said softly, his eyes scanning your face. His usual warmth was shadowed by hesitation, as if he didn’t know how to approach you in this state.

You tightened your grip on the door, leaning against it to steady yourself. “Hi.”

“We, uh… We’re here for Felix’s things,” Hyunjin said, his voice quieter than usual. He glanced over his shoulder, like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

You nodded, stepping back to let them in. The apartment felt too big, too empty without Felix’s presence, even though his things were still scattered around. The members hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, their movements careful, almost reverent.

“Is he okay?” you asked, breaking the silence as they started packing his things into boxes.

Chan looked at you, his expression softening. “He’s… coping, I think. This wasn’t easy for him, Y/N.”

You laughed bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Right.”

Hyunjin stopped mid-step, his eyes flickering between you and Chan. Seungmin nudged him gently, silently urging him to keep packing.

“It’s not like that,” Chan said gently, setting down a stack of books. “You know how much he cares about you. He just… he really thought he was doing the right thing.”

“The right thing?” you echoed, your voice rising. “By leaving me? By letting you all pack up his stuff, he can’t even face me, won’t even give me a say in ending our relationship?”

Chan’s shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked as lost as you felt. “I tried to talk him out of it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “We all did. But he wouldn’t listen. He thought you deserved better.”

“Better,” you repeated, shaking your head. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “He doesn’t get to decide that for me.”

No one had an answer for that, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

Hyunjin was the first to break it, his voice soft. “For what it’s worth, Y/N… he looked just as broken as you do right now. Maybe more.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to turn away before they could see the tears spill over. “Just… take his stuff and go.”

Chan hesitated, but eventually nodded. “We’ll be quick.”

As they carried out the boxes, you couldn’t bring yourself to watch. Instead, you stared out the window, focusing on the city skyline in the distance. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind them that you let the sobs escape, your chest heaving as you crumpled onto the couch.

Somewhere deep down, you wanted them to tell Felix how broken you seemed. Maybe then he’d realize that this “better life” he wanted for you didn’t exist without him.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Felix thought throwing himself into work would dull the ache.

Rehearsals became his only reprieve, every movement, every beat, an excuse to avoid the hollow pit in his chest. He stayed at the studio later than anyone else, perfecting choreography that didn’t need perfecting, re-recording verses that were already flawless. The other members noticed, of course they did—they weren’t blind.

“Lix,” Chan said one night, watching Felix push through yet another round of dance practice. The rest of the group had gone home hours ago, but Felix stayed, drenched in sweat, his breaths coming in short gasps as he went through the routine again.

“What?” Felix snapped, the sharpness in his tone unusual but expected.

Chan frowned but didn’t press further. He could see the exhaustion in Felix’s eyes, the weight he carried every time someone mentioned your name.

On stage, Felix was the picture of professionalism, his radiant smile masking the storm raging inside him. Fans screamed his name, but every cheer felt empty. He told himself it was for the best, that this was what you deserved—a version of him you didn’t have to suffer through.

But at night, when the noise died down and the hotel rooms felt too quiet, he’d reach for his phone out of habit. Your contact name stared back at him like a wound that refused to heal. He couldn’t delete it. He couldn’t let go, even though he already had.

Felix watched your Instagram, knowing you’d unfollowed him, but he still scrolled through your old posts, searching for pieces of the life you were living now. The last thing he wanted was to see you suffering because of him, but even the thought of you smiling without him sent a fresh wave of pain through his chest.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

If Felix was drowning himself in work, you were drowning in everything else.

Your days blurred together—wake up, force yourself out of bed, put on a happy face for your friends. Nights were worse. They were quiet, and the emptiness left too much space for your thoughts.

You told yourself not to look. Don’t check his Instagram. Don’t search his name on Twitter. Don’t go down the rabbit hole of fancams and updates from the tour. But your resolve never lasted.

Every night, you found yourself scrolling through endless pictures and videos.

The first time you saw him on stage, glowing under the lights with that smile that had once been yours, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. You stared at the screen, taking in every detail—his expression, his energy, the way he interacted with fans. He looked happy.

But he wasn’t, was he? You knew that smile better than anyone. You could see the cracks if you looked hard enough.

“Y/N, you have to stop,” your best friend said one night, catching you mid-scroll. “This isn’t helping you.”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes and setting your phone down. But it didn’t stop. It was a habit you couldn’t break, a lifeline to the person who’d once been your everything.

You replayed your last moments with him over and over, the way he avoided your gaze when he said it was over. The way his voice broke when he told you that you deserved better.

Better.

You weren’t sure what that even meant anymore. All you knew was that you felt worse every day, no matter how hard you tried to rebuild your life.

Even hanging out with friends felt hollow. You laughed, you smiled, but your heart wasn’t in it.

Because no matter how far you tried to move on, a part of you was still stuck in that apartment, watching the love of your life walk away.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A few months later, the tour was over. Months of grueling travel, sold-out arenas, and sleepless nights had finally come to an end. For the first time in what felt like forever, the members of Stray Kids stepped into the familiar comfort of home.

But for Felix, it didn’t feel like home.

The others were buzzing with excitement, already talking about their plans—family visits, long naps, or eating meals they’d missed during the tour. Felix stayed quiet, dragging his suitcase through the apartment like a ghost.

Chan noticed, of course. He always did.

“Hey, man,” he said softly as Felix sank onto the couch, staring at his phone. “You alright?”

Felix nodded without looking up. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Chan didn’t push, but his frown lingered. Felix hadn’t been the same since the breakup, and no amount of screaming fans or bright lights had been able to fix that.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You hadn’t noticed they were back.

You’d stopped checking their social media, stopped asking mutual friends about Felix, stopped torturing yourself with glimpses of a life you were no longer part of. It had taken months, but you’d learned to keep your distance. Deleting most of your social media apps had been the first step to begin healing from your pain.

It wasn’t that you didn’t miss them. You did. The boys had been like family to you at one point. But being around them would only open wounds that had barely started to close.

When your phone buzzed that afternoon, you hesitated before picking it up.

It was a text from Hyunjin.

Hyunjin: Hey, we’re back! I was thinking maybe we could grab coffee or something? I miss talking to you.

You stared at the message, your heart twisting. You wanted to respond, to say you missed him too. But you couldn’t.

You set your phone down and ignored it.

A few hours later, another text came through.

Chan: Hey, Y/N. Just wanted to let you know we’re home. Hope you’re doing okay. Let me know if you need anything.

This one was harder to ignore. Chan had always been like an older brother to you, someone you could count on no matter what. But replying meant opening a door you’d worked so hard to close.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Jeongin. You let it go to voicemail.

“Did she reply?” Hyunjin asked, leaning against the counter as Chan checked his phone.

Chan shook his head. “No. I don’t think she will.”

Jeongin frowned, flopping onto the couch. “It’s weird, isn’t it? She used to always be around. It’s like… she’s just gone now.”

“She needs space,” Seungmin said simply, though his tone carried an unspoken sadness.

Felix sat silently in the corner, his phone clutched in his hands. He hadn’t reached out—not yet. He knew you wouldn’t respond. Why would you? He was the reason everything had fallen apart.

“She’s doing what she needs to do,” Chan said, though even he looked unsure. “We can’t blame her for that.”

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I feel like we lost her too, you know? Not just Felix. All of us.”

The room fell quiet, the weight of the unspoken truth settling over them like a heavy blanket.

Felix finally looked up, his voice barely above a whisper. “She deserves to be happy. Even if it’s without us.”

No one responded, but the silence said enough.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your friends had insisted you show up to this date, practically dragging you to the salon earlier that day. “You need this,” they said, their voices full of determination. “It’s time to move on.”

So, there you were, sitting across from a genuinely kind guy named Daniel at a fancy restaurant, your hair perfectly styled, makeup flawless, and a little black dress that had you feeling confident for the first time in months.

Daniel was sweet, polite, and easy to talk to. You learned he’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship too—his ex had left him, and while he was still nursing the sting of it, he was trying to move forward.

You bonded over heartbreak and the awkwardness of starting over. He made you laugh with his dry humor and clever commentary on the overly pretentious menu.

But as much as you liked him, something was missing. No spark. No butterflies. Just… nothing.

You were halfway through dessert, smiling politely as Daniel shared a story about his college days, when your phone buzzed on the table.

“Sorry,” you said, glancing at the screen. The number was unfamiliar, but something in your chest tightened. “I should take this.”

“Go ahead,” Daniel said, gesturing for you to answer.

You pressed the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?” a professional voice asked. “This is ASAN Medical Center. We have a patient named Lee Felix admitted earlier today. You’re listed as his emergency contact.”

Your heart dropped, the words hitting like a punch to the stomach. “What? Is he okay? What happened?”

“He’s stable, but we recommend you come in. We can explain more when you’re here.”

You nodded, even though they couldn’t see you. “I—I’ll be there.”

Hanging up, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Daniel’s concerned expression cut through your spiraling thoughts.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

You shook your head, grabbing your purse. “It’s… complicated. I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, smiling gently. “Family emergency?”

“Something like that,” you muttered, standing up. You reached for your wallet, but Daniel stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it. Just go.”

You hesitated, then gave him a small, apologetic smile. “Thank you. And… you’re a great guy, really. But I think we both know this isn’t meant to be.”

Daniel chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I felt that too. Go take care of your person.”

The phrase hit harder than it should have, but you didn’t have time to unpack it. You thanked him again and rushed out of the restaurant, your heels clicking loudly against the polished floors.

The taxi ride to the hospital was a blur. Your mind raced with questions, fears, and the nagging ache in your chest that you hadn’t been able to shake since the breakup.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The drive felt like it had taken hours, and by the time you reached the hospital, your hands were trembling, and you weren’t sure if it was from fear, anger, or something else entirely.

The fluorescent lights in the hospital hallways buzzed faintly as you followed the nurse toward Felix’s room. The air was sterile, cold, and too quiet, amplifying the pounding of your heart in your chest.

You felt like you might be sick. Every step felt heavier than the last, memories of Felix flooding your mind. The way he’d smile at you like you were his entire world. The way he’d whispered sweet promises  in the quiet of your shared moments. And the way he’d broken your heart when he told you he wasn’t good enough.

The nurse stopped outside a door, her face kind but indifferent. “He’s in here,” she said softly before stepping away.

You stood frozen, staring at the closed door. Your breath came in shallow gasps, and your stomach twisted painfully. Why am I even here? you thought. But you knew the answer—because even after everything, you cared. You always had, and probably always would.

After a moment of gathering your courage, you pushed the door open.

The sound of the door caught their attention immediately. Chan was seated in a plastic chair near the bed, arms crossed, while Felix was propped up against the pillows, pale and tired but unmistakably himself.

Both their heads whipped toward you.

“Y/N?” Felix’s voice was weak, his eyes wide with shock. “What are you doing here?”

“The hospital called,” you explained, still standing in the doorway. “They said you were admitted, and I’m… I’m still listed as your emergency contact.”

Chan frowned, standing up. “We didn’t expect—”

You cut him off, smiling softly, but clearly a little hurt. “I just… wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”

Felix looked down, guilt flashing across his face. “I—sorry. I should’ve removed your name. That was selfish of me.”

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, brushing his apology aside. “I just needed to know you were okay.”

His eyes flicked back to yours, scanning your face as if searching for something. “You look�� good.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, thanks. I was kind of on a date.”

Felix froze, his expression crumbling before he masked it. “Oh. I—” He stumbled over his words, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for… interrupting your night.”

“It’s fine,” you said again, this time more curtly. “But now that I know you’re not alone, I’m probably going to go.”

You turned to leave, ignoring the tight feeling in your chest and the weight of Felix’s gaze on your back.

You were halfway down the hall when you heard someone call your name. Turning, you saw Chan jogging to catch up with you. His face was serious, his eyes tinged with urgency.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, stopping just in front of you.

“What, Chan?” you asked, your voice sharp, your emotions fraying. “What could you possibly want to say to me right now?”

He hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “Please. Don’t let him go.”

You blinked, his words not registering at first. “What?”

“You heard me,” Chan said, his voice quieter now, but no less urgent. “He misses you. I know he does. He’s been miserable this whole time, Y/N.”

Your stomach twisted. “Are you serious right now? He’s the one who ended things. He’s the one who said I deserved better. How can you ask me to fight for something he didn’t even want to fight for himself?”

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting you. But he’s realized how wrong he was. I’m begging you, just… talk to him. Please.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I don’t know if I can. You don’t understand how much it hurt, Chan. How much he hurt me.”

“I know,” Chan said softly. “And I’m sorry. But I also know Felix, and I know he loves you. He’s just scared. And if you walk away now, I don’t think he’ll ever forgive himself—or me—for letting you go.”

You hesitated, his words gnawing at the walls you’d built around your heart.

“Just talk to him,” Chan pleaded. “If nothing else, you deserve to say what you need to say. Please.”

After a long moment, you exhaled shakily. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect anything, Chan.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he said, relief washing over his face. “Thank you.”

With trembling hands and a storm of feelings swirling in your chest, you turned back toward Felix’s room, unsure if you were ready for what came next.

You stepped back into the room, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Felix looked up, his eyes widening when he saw you. He was startled, as if he hadn’t expected you to come back. Chan shot you a quick glance, then slipped out silently, leaving the two of you alone.

The door clicked shut, and the tension in the room was suffocating. You crossed your arms, standing by the door, unsure where to start.

“Why?” you finally said, your voice harsher than you intended. “Why now?”

Felix blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

You laughed bitterly, taking a few steps closer to the bed. “I mean, why are you doing this now? After months of silence, after breaking me into pieces and leaving me to pick them up on my own, why now? Why drag me back into this?”

He looked down, fiddling with the edge of the blanket draped over his lap. “I didn’t mean to drag you into anything,” he said quietly. “I didn’t even know they’d call you. But seeing you here…” He swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “It just made me realize how much I miss you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You miss me? That’s rich, Felix. Where was that when I was crying myself to sleep every night? Where was that when I begged you to stay, when you left me?”

He flinched, your words hitting him like a slap. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret.

“The right thing?” you repeated, your voice rising. “The right thing would’ve been to fight for us! But instead, you gave up, Felix. You left me.”

His hands clenched the blanket, his knuckles white. “I know,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I thought I was protecting you. I thought you deserved someone who could give you more than I could.”

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me? How much it hurt to see you everywhere and know I wasn’t part of your life anymore?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I miss you, Y/N. I miss everything about you. And the thought of you with someone else…” He looked up at you, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It kills me.”

Your heart clenched, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “You don’t get to say that, Felix. You don’t get to come back now, when I’ve finally started to put myself back together, and tell me you miss me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice desperate. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But I can’t go another day without trying. I love you, Y/N. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

You looked away, his words cutting through your defenses. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me to even think about moving on?” you said, your voice trembling. “I was starting to feel okay again. And now you’re here, saying all of this, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Felix pushed himself up slightly, wincing but determined. “I know it’s unfair,” he said, his voice stronger now. “But I’m asking you to let me make it right. I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, but I swear I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. Just… please.”

Your chest heaved as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. Part of you wanted to walk out and never look back, to protect yourself from more heartbreak. But another part of you, the part that still loved him despite everything, wanted to stay.

“Do you mean it?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Do you really mean it this time?”

Felix’s gaze was steady, unwavering. “With everything I have.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and charged. Then, finally, you let out a shaky breath. “If we do this again,” you said, your voice firm, “you don’t get to run. No more deciding what’s best for me without talking to me first. We fight for it, no matter how hard it gets. Got it?”

A tear slipped down Felix’s cheek, but he smiled—a real, hopeful smile. “Got it.”

You sighed, the weight on your chest easing ever so slightly. “Okay. Let’s try again.”

Felix reached for your hand, his touch warm and familiar. And for the first time in months, you let yourself hope.

You don’t end up going home that night, falling asleep in the hard plastic hospital chair, only waking up when the nurses knocked softly on the door to let you know that Felix was free to leave.

The two of you take a cab to your place, immediately crawling into your bed together, the memories held in your apartment no longer feeling like a crushing weight over you, but a reminder that the two of you can work it out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

masterlist.

[benevolenterrancy]

Hi I have caught up to you on having feelings about Zhuzhi-Lang. He's a good boy! 🥺 Good snake boy! 🥺 I had the thought, after Zhuzhi let SQQ leave after SQQ yelled at him... what if they Stole Him. What if.

(Also have you read/been recommended anything by corduroyserpent yet? Big writer of Zhuzhi-Lang fics, including a very cute de-aged Zhuzhi-Lang and some zhushen)

Justifications of bride-stealing!

(AND HE'S THE BEST BOY 😭 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, SO MUCH!! have some further au thoughts because this has contaminated my brain...)

What I think would actually happen if they stole SQQ? Absolutely nothing good for anyone, LBH would Lose His Fucking Mind xD as a more interesting answer though, I like the idea that Shen "Pedantic Nitpicky Asshole" Qingqiu's primary point of argument is that he is not a bride so he cannot be "bridenapped" regardless of demonic tradition or intention!

This eventually leads to them all completely avoiding the Maigu Ridge incident because TLJ realizes that, somehow, SQQ doesn't realize the depths of his son's feelings for him and decides to put all his efforts into being a wingman for his nephew instead because he finds the entire thing absolutely hilarious and rather satisfying after his own sad romance. Obviously someone like SQQ would do much better with his good, loyal nephew than the disappointing offspring of that disastrous relationship!

As for ZZL he just has to assume that LBH must not be treating SQQ anywhere near the way he should be (and like... he isn't wrong at this point, there is a non-zero amount of torture and terror going on here) if SQQ doesn't see himself as being tied to LBH in any way. And if he's not attached to LBH then there's absolutely no reason he shouldn't make his own efforts to seduce SQQ! After all, if LBH isn't valuing SQQ properly then obviously ZZL has to step up because someone as kind as SQQ deserves the best!!!

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader)

Part 2 here.

Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.

Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.

It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.

"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.

You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.

"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.

You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.

Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."

"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.

"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.

You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.

"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.

Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.

He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.

"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.

Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.

"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.

He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"

"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.

"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."

Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.

"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.

"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.

There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.

The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.

You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.

-

Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.

You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.

“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.

“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.

“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.

Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.

“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.

“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.

You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.

You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.

“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.

"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.

"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.

You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"

"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.

You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.

"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.

Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.

You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.

"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.

"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.

"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.

"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.

"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."

You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.

"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."

You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."

Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.

"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."

"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.

"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.

"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.

"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.

You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.

The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.

He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.

"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."

The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.

"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.

"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.

"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.

"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.

You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.

Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.

-

guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.

much love as always, isabel

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 14

Series Masterlist

➪in which you and bradley go on your seventh date, this one at a fair, and both end up winning more than once.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley felt like he was on cloud nine. 

It took him another hour to get out of bed when you let him fuck you bare yesterday morning. He still couldn’t believe he had managed to save his relationship with you, and now it seemed like it was stronger than ever. 

Thank fuck for that, because as of right now, you were the only good thing he had in his life, and he didn’t know what he would’ve done if he had lost you for good. 

Since going on impulsive dates was kinda yours and his thing, Bradley remembered this pop up fair that always came to town this time of year, and it only runs for two weeks. This weekend would be the last chance to go, and he knew for a fact that you’d have fun there, so he decided to ask you if you wanted to go with him. 

His arm was draped around your shoulders as he walked you to your second class of the day. “I wanna do something this weekend,” he started off casually, not wanting to sound like he had been thinking of this idea since last night when you fell asleep in his arms. 

You looked up at him with your pretty smile and a raise of your brow. “Another date? What is this, like, our sixth one?”

“Seventh,” he corrected and smirked at the quiet laugh he pulled from you. “And going on random dates is our thing, so don’t act so surprised.”

You laughed again and shook your head, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek as you walked with him. “I love going on dates with you,” you murmured, kissing him again before pulling away. “So what are you thinking about for this weekend?”

“How about something new?” he suggested, giving you a side glance as he guided you along the campus. Bradley knew your schedule pretty fucking well now, so he knew where your classes were, when they started and when they ended, which was a good thing, since he liked walking you to them. “There’s a fair that’s happening in town. I’ve heard that it’s pretty fun and the tickets aren’t super fucking expensive either.”

Your eyes lit up and you stopped walking, making him stop as well. “A fair?” you echoed, jumping slightly when he nodded. “I love fairs! Oh, they’re so fun, I’ve never been to one that wasn’t fun.”

Bradley lifted a brow, his lips curving upwards as he looked down at your excited expression. “Yeah? You’ve been to a lot?”

You shrugged, giving him a teasing smile. “A few here and there,” you answered, “This is so fun. When are we going?”

“So you want to go then? It’s not even a question anymore?” he teased, laughing at your eye roll. 

“Of course it’s not a question,” you replied, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. “Fairs are so romantic, Bradley. Especially when you’re with the right person.”

Bradley lifted a brow again, following after you as you started to pull him along the sidewalk. “You better be talking about me, babes,”

The look over your shoulder you gave him told him all he needed to know, but your words helped too. “Of course I’m talking about you, flyboy,” you laughed, turning to face him once you were outside the doors of the creative arts building. “Everything feels right with you.”

For some reason, that had Bradley blushing like a fucking teenager. That was probably one of the sweetest things anyone had ever said to him, and it just made him adore you even more. So he didn’t respond with words, instead he just leaned down and kissed you, his hand coming up to hold your jaw. “Have a good class,” he murmured in between soft kisses before he finally stepped away from you. “Think of me.”

The smile you gave him brought that blush back to his face. “I always am,”

-

Bradley wanted to take you to the fair, and you weren’t sure he was even aware of just how perfect of a date that sounded to you.

And while you were a bit lost on just how many dates you’ve gone on with him up until this point, Bradley knew the exact number, and you were definitely sure he wasn’t aware of how attractive that is. 

Then there was the whole no condom thing, and that had your smile growing. Sure, it was kind of an irresponsible decision, but you really needed to be as close as humanly possible with Bradley yesterday, especially since you had discovered that the whole Briana thing was just a massive misunderstanding. You were so relieved that you had been wrong about him being like every other guy, and he had proved it to you so sweetly, you needed to feel him all over you. 

And it felt fucking amazing, and you’re on the pill, so was it really a bad decision? It sure didn’t feel like one. 

You were all giddy when you went into your class, your happy smile definitely not directed at Clarke personally, but he gave you one back as if it was, which was just fine by you. After having such a terrible start to the week, you would gladly smile at everyone you saw since things had only gotten a lot better since Monday morning.

You sat down in your usual seat, smiling at the girl already sitting in the one beside yours. She was pretty, had long blonde hair and hazel eyes, and for some reason, you had never shared more than a few conversations with her. She seemed nice enough, and you were seriously lacking in the friend department at the moment, so maybe you’d try to talk to her more often. 

Really, anyone was better than Sam at this point. 

So when she smiled at you and held up the bag of plain chips she was snacking on before the class started, you grinned back and took one. 

When the class was over, you packed up your things and got Delia’s, your table partner, number saved as a contact on your phone. You ended up talking to her quite a bit during class, and you were right, she is really nice and seems like a great friend to have. And you were in no position to turn down what could be a pretty awesome friendship. 

She offered to hang out for a bit after class, and you agreed, so you followed after her when she began walking towards the door. You had a few hours to kill before you had to go to your yoga class, and usually you would be spending it with Bradley, but hanging out with Delia would give you more time to get to know her better, and you could already tell that you and her have a lot in common. 

Before you could leave, Clarke called out to you, making you pause. “Can you stay for a second?” he asked, and you furrowed your brows, giving Delia an apologetic look and a gesture that told her that you’d meet her out in the hall in a minute. 

“Sure,” you answer, walking back into the room. You weren’t sure why he wanted to talk to you; you hadn’t handed in any assignments this week since he hadn’t given out any, and you made sure to always pay attention (or at least pretend to if your mind was elsewhere - like on your boyfriend) in class, so you knew you weren’t in trouble or anything. 

Clarke smiled at you, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head. “How are you doing?” he asked, his brows coming together in what looked like mock concern, but then again, you didn’t know him well enough to assume that. 

“I’m…fine,” you replied, giving him a confused smile back as you shifted on your feet. That was it? That’s all he wanted? To know how you were doing?

“You sure?” he pressed, crossing his arms as he looked down at the papers that were scattered on the surface of his desk. “In Tuesday’s class you seemed off. Quieter…less talkative. I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Oh. Well that was kinda fucking embarrassing. Monday and Tuesday were really bad days for you since you weren’t sure where you stood with Bradley at the time, but you had thought you hid it pretty well. Clearly not. And now your teacher was asking about you as if you were back in high school. “Oh,” you laughed, either out of nerves of pure embarrassment, or both. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. I was just…I had a really bad start to the week. I’m totally fine now.”

You thought he’d laugh it off too and leave it at that, but then he leaned forward in his chair, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Are you sure?” he asked again, his thighs spread a bit and making his slacks look two sizes too small. 

Okay, this was getting weird now, and you were definitely beginning to feel uncomfortable. While you appreciated his concern, you had already told him three times now that you were fine, but he was still pushing it. And you didn’t think you had bonded with him enough for him to feel the need to be this persistent. You wanted to just nod at him and quickly turn and leave, the need to just get out of this classroom the only thing on your mind right now.

But he continued before you could make your escape. “Because I’m here for you if you’re not,” he said, giving you another smile that was more of a sly smirk compared to the other ones. “You can always come to me if something’s bothering you or anything like that.”

Not that he was very high up on the list of the people you’d go to if something was bothering you, but now he wasn’t even in the vicinity of said list. You were so on edge and it happened so quickly, you physically couldn’t relax your tense shoulders as you nodded slowly and gripped the strap of your bag. “Right,” you mumbled, forcing out a tight smile and a nod as you stepped away from his desk. “That’s…nice, Clarke…I appreciate that.”

You didn’t know what else to say. You couldn’t exactly go off on your teacher because he hadn’t done anything wrong except express his concern about you. But still, why you felt so fucking awkward and…gross was beyond you. 

“No problem,” he said, and the look he gave you had you holding back a cringe as you turned and headed for the door without saying goodbye.

In the hall, Delia was waiting for you with a kind yet confused smile. “What did he want?” 

You debated on whether or not to tell her, but didn’t know if you were making a big deal out of nothing at all. Really, all Clarke did was voice his concern, there was nothing wrong with that, and you were already feeling better now that you were out of that classroom. 

So you decided to brush it off for now, and you also decided to not tell Bradley since you were sure he’d make a big deal out of it too, and the last thing you needed right now was more drama. 

-

Bradley hadn’t seen you since he walked you to class yesterday.

You texted him and said that you were going to hang out with a girl from your class before you had to go to yoga, so he didn’t get the chance to see you for the rest of the day. 

It was Friday evening now, and he was waiting in the Jeep as you got ready for your fair date. Bradley still couldn’t believe how much you had changed him and his life in so little time. He had never considered himself to be one of those boyfriends who wanted to go out on dates all the time, let alone be the one to suggest most of them (and keep track of them), but here he is; about to go on his seventh date with you in three weeks. 

His seventh. 

Who the fuck was he?

When he turned his head and saw you walk out of your building, his jaw dropped just a bit as he took in your, for lack of better words, fucking hot outfit. You were wearing black jeans, a white crop top and ankle boots, and his blue flannel was draped over your shoulders, your hands barely visible as the shirt was way bigger on you than it was on him, and he felt his mouth go dry.

You looked absolutely stunning, like you always did, and Bradley was quickly coming to the realization after seeing you in his jersey, then his sweats and shirt earlier this week, and now his flannel, that he fucking loved it when you wore his clothes.

And you were going to wear his shirt on your date? Fuck, he wanted to pick you up and carry you right back to your bedroom.

He had meant to be a gentleman and open the door for you, but by the time he picked his jaw up off the floor, you were already sliding onto the seat next to him with a pretty smile on your lips, and a floral scent filled his senses. “Hi,” you greeted as you shut the door and leaned back, grinning as you looked at the seat warmer button that was switched on.

At least he remembered to turn that on before he was completely floored by how hot his girlfriend is. 

“Hey,” he said back, looking you up and down. You looked even better up close, and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip before he let out a low whistle. “Damn. You look fucking hot.”

You laughed, a mix of surprise and appreciation as you put on your seatbelt. “Thanks. You do too,” you blushed, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. When he made no move to start driving, you gave him a confused look as your gaze flickering between his eyes and the windshield. “What’s wrong?”

“You missed,” he answered as if you had asked him the easiest question he’d ever heard. When your brows furrowed even more, Bradley pointed to his mouth, and you rolled your eyes before leaning in and kissing him on the lips. 

His hand cradled the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, making you smile against his lips before you pulled away. “There. Better?” 

“Much,” he nodded before shifting the Jeep into drive and pulling away from your building. 

It was still light out when Bradley managed to find a spot to park in the very back of the parking lot, which was really just a massive field of gravel and dirt he couldn’t wait to pick out of his tires later.

The fair was also really big, so compared to all the cars you and he passed on the way to the front gate, the fair ground itself didn’t seem too packed since there were countless places and attractions around that ensured there wasn’t just a big crowd. 

Bradley’s fingers were loosely laced with yours as he gave you free rein of deciding where the two of you were going or what you were going to do. He honestly didn’t care what you did, his attention mainly on how gorgeous you looked in his flannel - which was so obviously his, he could see a few jealous stares from guys who seemed to think they had any chance with you as you pulled him along. 

When you suddenly turned and started tugging him with you towards the arcade, he laughed, because you were probably the only person he’d ever met that would start with the indoor arcade instead of the ferris wheel or the dart game.

A few minutes later, his forearm was braced on the top of some coin machine, his other hand holding a rather heavy bag of arcade coins that you were currently inserting into the machine over and over again. For every coin you knocked off the pile, you got five prize tickets, and you seemed to be having a blast doing just that while Bradley watched you. 

He was content doing anything you wanted to, and if you wanted to blow the entire bag on just this ‘game’, he wouldn’t stop you, especially since you looked absolutely adorable every time the machine printed out a stack of tickets for you. 

“So, flyboy,” you said, bringing his focus away from your pretty face as he gave you his full attention. “Have you decided on what your call sign is going to be once you become a pilot?” 

Bradley grinned, because you were the first person who had brought this topic back up since he told you about it. Eli and Wes and even Briana just listened with fake interest when he told them what he wanted to do for a career in the future, and then they never asked about it again. 

This was just another thing that made you a hundred times better than all three of them combined. You actually listened, and you actually wanted to hear about his plans for the future. “I thought we both decided on that together,” he answered, smirking at the way you quickly looked over at him with wide eyes. 

“Rooster?” you asked for clarification, and he was immediately brought back to his fourth date with you, when you and he had gotten each other off fully clothed in the front seat of his Jeep in the back of a parking garage after being way too distracted to get even halfway through the movie. “Seriously? Your call sign is going to be Rooster?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, taking it upon himself to insert another coin into the machine since you were completely focused on him now. “One, because it has the double O like my dad’s did, and two, because you came up with it.” 

Once the coin had fallen into the machine, Bradley turned to face you but was immediately gifted the sweet feeling of your mouth on his as you kissed him hard, right there in the middle of the arcade. “That is one of the sweetest, most sexiest fucking things anyone has ever said to me,” you mumbled, looking so serious as you caressed his jaw in both hands. “And I’m not even joking.”

Bradley smirked again, because he knew he had another thing to hold above your piece of shit ex. Even though he’d never met Luke, he still was going to call him that, because he was a piece of shit. And he let you go. What a fucking idiot.

Before Bradley could reply, the machine lit up from beside him, flashing yellow a few times before a bucket load of tickets began pouring out. He was so distracted by your surprise kiss, he didn’t realize that the coin he had put in ended up knocking over the pile and rewarding him with what looked like a never ending string of tickets. 

“Woah, baby, I think you won,” you laughed, stepping away from the machine as it continued to spurt out tickets onto the carpeted floor of the arcade. “I didn’t even know you could win this game.”

Bradley shrugged, leaning down to pick up the copious amount of tickets in one hand. “Guess I’m just that good,” he teased, trying to give them to you as he added, “Or maybe it’s because you’re my good luck charm.”

You blushed then shook your head when he tried to hand them to you again. “No, they’re yours. You won those,” you protested, and Bradley laughed. 

“Babes, I put one coin in this thing,” he pointed out, “You put in, like, thirty. They’re yours.”

Your smile was poorly hidden as you finally took them from him before leaning in and giving him another chaste kiss. “Well, thank you,” you mumbled, taking his hand in your free one. “Now we can move on from this game.”

-

Bradley was so fucking sweet, you wanted to kiss him every second of every hour. 

How could you not have realized that this is what a normal, healthy relationship feels like? Why had you put so much of your life into your relationship with your ex when he really didn’t treat you right?

Whatever the reason, you were more than happy to have found Bradley, because he was replacing all your bad experiences with amazing ones, and he had quickly become your favorite person. 

After you had used up all of the arcade coins and won a fuckton of tickets, you kept two and traded the rest of them in for a bunch of random prizes, like a t-shirt with the fair’s name on it, one of those tall cups that come with a weird straw that made it take forever to actually sip anything out of, and a few other small things Bradley had picked out that neither of you would ever need.

He offered to run everything back to the Jeep, so you stayed by the game booths and browsed them until he got back, and once he did, you pulled him over to the target game after a certain prize caught your eye. “Are you any good?” You ask, nodding towards the plastic gun set on the counter of the booth. 

“At this?” Bradley asked, looking at the various targets along the back wall. “I guess now is the time to admit that I’m kind of a bad shot.” 

His words surprised you, since he wanted to be an aviator and fly missions in a fighter jet, and that definitely required him to be a good shot, especially in the air. And you could tell that he was also embarrassed as his neck turned a bit red at his revelation. “Really? I mean, I might be wrong, but don’t you want to join the military? Or are you just a really good liar and only said that to impress me?”

Your words were playful and teasing as you took it upon yourself to pick up the gun. Bradley rolled his eyes as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I’m working on it, I just-” he was promptly cut off when you aimed and fired one shot at the center of each target without batting an eye. 

When you turned to face him again, you nearly cackled at the look of complete shock on your boyfriend’s face. “You just what?” You asked, casually setting the gun down as he gaped at you. 

“How did you…” he trailed off, his eyes flickering between your own and the targets. “You just…I’m sorry, but at the risk of sounding like a complete jackass, how the fuck did you do that?”

You laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his scarred cheek as he stared at you with a mix of surprise and something else, something stronger, and you weren’t sure if it was what you thought it was. “That? That was easy, flyboy,” you grinned, taking the stuffed goose from the teenaged boy that was running the game booth (who also looked equally as surprised as Bradley did). “Here, I won this for you.”

His gaze flickered down to the stuffed animal, and that same look was in his eyes when he looked back up at you and took it. “You’re perfect,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed you, subtly guiding you away from the booth so the next person could shoot their shot. Bradley kissed you over and over again, the stuffed goose you won him pressed against your back as he held you close to him, his other hand cradling the back of your neck. “You’re absolutely perfect, and I think I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You laughed against his mouth, pulling away as you blushed, his words doing a real number on you. “You think?” You teased, lacing your fingers with his as you snuggled into his side. Before he could say anything, your eyes caught sight of the cotton candy cart, and you were tugging him along with you as he clutched the goose like it was porcelain. 

A few minutes later, you were standing in line for the ferris wheel, a pink cotton candy cone in your hand as you fed handfuls of it to Bradley, who had what seemed to be a permanent love-struck expression on his face. “You’re pretty,” he mumbled suddenly and you snorted.

“What has gotten into you? I won a stuffed animal for you and now you’re all clingy and smiley,” you observe, tossing the cardboard cone into the trashcan as you moved further up the line. “It’s sexy, don’t get me wrong, but what did I do to deserve it?”

Bradley raised his brow at you as he answered, “You won me a goose,”

It didn’t make much sense to you - the only reason you wanted to play that game was to win him the goose because of his dad, but if it made him happy, then you would stop questioning it. 

When you got to the front of the line, the guy operating the ferris wheel had to confiscate Bradley’s goose in case he dropped it or something, and you had never seen him glare so hard at a total stranger before. 

You were holding back a laugh as you got strapped in, and had to bury your face against his arm. “That guy’s just trying to do his job and keep us safe and you’re glaring at him,” 

Bradley turned to look at you with an unimpressed expression on his face, and you laughed harder at the way his lips curved downwards. “He took my goose,”

“He had to,” you pointed out once the wheel started moving. “And you’ll get it back. Jesus, I didn’t think you’d like it this much.” 

“Are you kidding?” he asked, draping his arm around you as the ferris wheel moved even more. “Babes, you make me so fucking happy with everything you do. You listen, you actually care about me, and you remember things that most wouldn’t think twice about. I’m crazy about you.”

Well, now you wish you weren’t sixty feet in the air, because all you wanted to do was crawl on his lap and kiss him senseless. He was so fucking sweet. 

You couldn’t exactly crawl onto his lip right now, but you could definitely kiss him, so that’s what you did. 

Leaning over, you pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss, taking him by surprise this time as you gripped his jaw with your fingers. You weren’t sure how many kisses you’ve shared with him since he picked you up, and you didn’t care. Kissing him felt so good, so right, and you never wanted to stop doing it.

And from the way Bradley kissed you right back, you could tell that he didn’t want to stop doing it either. 

Once you were back on the ground, and after Bradley promptly grabbed his goose back from the ferris wheel operator, he guided you over to the ring toss game, then shoved the stuffed animal into your hand. “You got to show off earlier,” he said, twirling the rings around his finger before smirking over at you. “It’s my turn.”

You raised your brow, holding back a laugh as you turned and watched him toss the rings onto the bottles with very little effort. And he won. “Okay,” you started, turning to face him again with squinted eyes. “You tell me you have bad aim, but you managed to win this? How does that make any sense?” 

Bradley shrugged, keeping his eyes on you as he was handed his prize. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I have no idea how I just did that. And I still want to know why you’re such a good shot.” 

You laughed, then looked at what he was holding, and laughed again. “Wow, you won a fish,” 

He looked down at the bag in his hand, a dumb grin on his face when he handed it to you and took back his goose. “You won a fish, actually,” he corrected, “I won a goose.”

You narrowed your eyes as you shook your head. “That’s not at all what actually happened, but you’re hot so I’ll let it slide,” you mumbled, then looked at the bag with a small little red fish inside of it. “Poor thing. It’s cute though.”

Bradley raised a brow as he looked at the fish as well. “I mean, I guess so,”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “That’s not very nice, especially since we’re it’s parents now,” you say, and both his brows shot up as he let out a surprised laugh. 

“Oh, are we?” he grunted, draping his arm around your shoulders as he started leading you to the exit. You were joking, and were also kind of serious, but also didn’t want to weird him out. But before you could say anything else, he continued, “Well, if that’s the case, it needs a name then.”

Your smile grew a few sizes at that, because not only had he not been weirded out, but he played along. “Well,” you trailed off, looking at the fish as he walked you through the dark parking lot. When your eyes caught sight of the ‘F’ written in sharpie on the side of the bag, you grinned. “Her name will be…BB.”

“BB?” Bradley laughed, his free hand fumbling around in his pocket for his keys. 

“Yep,” you nodded, “BB Bradshaw.”

“Alright,” Bradley mumbled once you were right next to the red Jeep. “What does that stand for?” 

You leaned against the passenger side door, a teasing smirk on your face. “Bad Bitch Bradshaw,” you answered, trying to ignore the jolt of heat that shot through your body when he braced his forearm against the window above your head. He was so hot, and he didn’t even know it. “Obviously.” 

Bradley hummed, “Obviously,” before leaning down and giving you what felt like your hundredth kiss of the night. “Come on, babes. I’m taking you home.” He mumbled, then his lips found yours in another deep kiss, this one much longer.

[khaire-traveler]

Hello there! I'm very new to hellenic polytheism and came across a question that I am not sure how to approach. I would be really grateful if you could let me know your thoughts on this (please don't feel obligated or anything, tho. I know I am just a random person asking a random question 🫣). So, for a while now, I've been getting more into greek mythology and from there into fandoms that depict the deities (e.g. Epic the musical which I love a lot). Would you say it is inappropriate to seek out fanfiction or fanart (especially those including ships) in those fandoms, or should I refrain from doing that as it would be disrespectful? Or are there limits I should be aware of? Thank you so much should you choose to answer this 💜 (I apologise for missing paragraphs. I am not sure how to do those on mobile.) (Also, is there a right way to end these kinds of letters/messages/questions? Like a way to express my gratefulness?) (Sorry if none of this makes sense. I always get anxious messaging strangers, but I couldn't find answers anywhere, so I thought I'd just ask🫣)

Khaire, Melie!

Ah, yes. The age-old question. How sinful is fanfiction, exactly? /joke (wanted to start this off light-hearted)

In all seriousness, I'll start with this: If you want to know how the gods feel about it, ask them. There is no better answer than the one that comes directly from the source. I understand the nerves around asking this question; some Hellenic Polytheists feel VERY strongly about it, and honestly, seeing their strong opinions has made me doubt my own interests in such media. Remember that some rando's opinion online, however, isn't the law, regardless of how strongly they feel about it or how desperately they want you to do exactly what they're doing. Opinions are opinions; facts are facts - they are separate things. Personally - and this is MY opinion -I think never engaging with modern media depicting the gods is a little too strict of an approach, and by following that, I feel that a lot of people are banning themselves from engaging with fictional media that they might enjoy. Each piece of modern media about the gods is a creative interpretation of Greek mythology, and people have been doing this kind of thing with other religions - that they don't believe in - for AGES. It's entirely normal, even if it is kind of annoying sometimes. Now, some retellings, games, shows, etc. genuinely take things too far, in my opinion, and warp the mythology so completely that it might as well be a different story entirely. I'm bordering on a tangent, so I'll move on.

Modern media about the gods isn't an inherently abhorrent, evil thing that should always be avoided, however, but personally, I do draw the line of engagement at shipping.

First and foremost, live your life the way you want to. Engage with your practice however you wish. I'm not the law-maker of this religion - no one is - and while I might disagree with someone's approach, I'm not going to shit all over them for doing things differently from myself. Now, into my opinion. I don't think shipping gods - be it from a modern form of media or not - that you worship is appropriate, personally. In my experience, it will blur your actual perception of those gods. I've seen it happen over and over again that people confuse the fictional representation of their God in media with the actual god, then feel the need to distance themselves from the media in order to regain something they feel that they lost. Like I said, you do whatever you wish, but I find it's just better to avoid the awkwardness of shipping entirely.

If you want to read fanfiction about the gods in fictional media, go for it, but I'm not personally a big fan of that. I don't know how the gods feel about it; I can't speak for them (no one can). For all I know, they could be reading the fanfiction themselves and laughing their asses off, who knows? But as a worshipper, I'm not personally comfortable with the idea of reading it. Again, do what you want with your life. If you want to read some spicy fanfic of one god with another, I'm literally not going to stop you, but make sure you're able to separate the fictional characters from the gods you actually worship before you do so - that's my advice. Too often, people end up conflating the two. When a fandom or fanfiction begins affecting your worship, practice, or even just the way you view the gods, that's when it's a problem.

I think the community has been torn on the topic of modern media for a while. Some people love it, while others utterly despise it, and you'll notice that answers will vary from person to person. In my opinion, these pieces of media become problematic when they swarm the fuck out of a small religious community that already struggles to be taken seriously. An example of this is what happened with Lore Olympus a while back. When the comic got popular, a ton of people would swarm and attack worshippers of Apollo online, calling them all sorts of extremely vile things, all because of a comic that literally wasn't even mythologically accurate. In my opinion, fandoms can get out of control sometimes, and when you're engaging with one based around the gods, I advise you to just be careful and aware. For some people, fanart and fanfiction of the gods are extremely uncomfortable, similarly to if someone were to ship Buddha with Jesus in the regard that it just...feels weird for people who actually worship those figures. Other people could care less, being able to fully separate the fictional characters from the gods they worship. Base it on your comfort, and the comfort of your gods.

I hope this helped to give you my perspective. I'm not going to tell you what is or isn't the right choice because honestly, different people will give you a different answer, and I'm anything but a religious authority. You're allowed to do as you wish, but I will always advise you to tread with caution and check in with yourself about how it feels for you personally. Reach out to your gods and directly ask them (such as through tarot, or another form of divination), "Hey, how do you feel about me engaging with this?" Asking directly is ALWAYS a good idea, in my experience. Take care, Melie. 🧡

[morbidmiracle]

Reluctant/Unwilling Whumper Prompts

Whumper:

"This isn't what I signed up for..."

"Shut up. Stop looking at me like that."

Being ordered by a superior or a more scary Whumper

Even better: being blackmailed by someone else

"Listen; it's either you or my family."

"I don't think I can do this."

Treating whumpee with surprising gentleness after hurting them

"Don't take this personally."

Whumpee:

"Why are you doing this?"

"You're a coward."

"I don't wanna hear it."

Using reluctant whumper's conscience to bargain with them

Letting themself cry, knowing it's affecting whumper more than they let on

"Please, just... stop..."

"We both know this isn't going anywhere."

More Ideas:

Manipulative Whumper pretending to be reluctant to coax whumpee into a false sense of security

Reluctant whumper lashing out at whoever is forcing them to hurt whumpee

Alternatively, reluctant whumper secretly plotting to escape (with or without whumpee)

[aristaspark]

You're like, the greatest Kenlynn shipper I know. You have any idea of why do Darius love Brooklynn if they're not going to be canon? That kind of plot is very common and Kenlynn already break up. So why? I know Brooklynn didn't wanted their relationship to end, but I don't see how they will keep going... You said something like "Darius learning how to deal with rejection is a mature theme they would bring here". But Kenji learning to let go wouldn't be a mature theme too? Or Kenlynn realizing it can't work is also a mature theme...

Hello, well, first things first thanks for the compliment 😭 (?)

So to adress your point, me saying that Darius's arc being about dealing with rejection (and his guilt) makes for a compelling storyline doesn't mean that I think the same can't be said for Kenji and Brooklynn.

That's why I wasn't even mad when they introduced the storyline in season one, because it was believable that Darius could fall in love with her and it was very in character for Brooklynn to be obsessed with an investigation to the point where she neglected Kenji, it made sense and was simply very good writing. So, yeah, coming into season 2 I was sure they were going to take the "kenji/brooklynn both realize they could never work" route and shove dinostar down our throats to build them up, because looking at the story as a media with a fandom, that was what seemed more likely.

But then there was the promotional material in which Brooklynn only wrote to Kenji, which made me really doubt my conviction. And then season 2.

I think I already listed pretty much everything that suggested, at least to me, that the writers were going for Kenlynn, or AT LEAST that dinostar would remain platonic.

I wouldn't have been mad if they had made dinostar canon (still possible), it was kind of expected since they had Darius fall in love with her. But season 2 suggests it's not the direction they're heading towards (according to me at least) and honestly, I'm glad.

I'm happy because they really stepped up the writing and character conflicts since jwcc, and to me having Brooklynn reciprocate his feelings would be REALLY questionnable writing at best and straight up fanservice at worse.

In universe Brooklynn has been with Kenji for 6 years. They have being a couple for far longer than they have ever been friends. And it was Kenji who broke up. And you want me to believe she would fall for her a guy she has always seen as her best friend only a week after her break up? 😭 Mind you, a best friend she only visited because she was still obsessed with her investigation, not because she wanted to see him (proof she was like that with everyone, her relationship with Kenji wasn't the problem, it was her).

My take on Darius's arc was basically me trying to understand where they were taking his character, why they had introduced this storyline in the first place if it wasn't gonna go "anywhere" as everyone puts it.

But that's the point, we're so obsessed with shipping that we basically forget that it's not all that makes a story, and IT SHOULDN'T BE.

Darius having this arc wouldn't have been in vain even if he doesn't end up with Brooklynn. It gave him his entire arc in season 1, with him being filled with grief and guilt over her death, and it also gave him his conflict with Kenji. It made his character compelling, relatable, interesting. Like, shipping isn't all that matters, whether they end up together or not it's such a compelling story, so why would they refrain for telling it simply because of fandom culture? And to me it's just a testament of how better the writing has gotten since jwcc. The characters no longer have one dimensional relationships/conflicts with each other but have real conflicts/problematics. I'm not only speaking in terms of shipping, but also other storylines. Sammy not speaking to her family, her and yaz struggling with their long-distance relationship, Ben's paranoia, Kenji loosing two of the two most important people in his life back to back, having a death wish, Brooklynn loosing a limb, being cut from all the people she loves for months...

It's clear the writers are putting the characters in very uncomfortable situations, like, death wish and the loss of a limb, please ???

So why would Darius be any different? Why would they refrain from tackling the subject of unrequited love, of messy feelings and confusing friendship with love?

I think that what I'm trying to say is that it's a mistake to look at jwct the same as jwcc/as a kids show cattering to the fans. They're clearly not writing storylines to please the fans, but want to tackle very real subjects, and treat their characters as real people and I respect them so much for that.

I'm gonna stop here because I feel like I'm repeating myself (which I totally am, I'm sure I already wrote that in my endless ramblings). Sorry if I got carried away 😂

And (because I feel like I need to say it) I could be TOTALLY wrong. I'm only making theories on my account, I don't know sh*t except from what's in the show, so it's totally possible dinostar will end up together making me look like a clown 😂

[va1kyr14]

Right, I have time to sit down and really digest what happened yesterday so here goes. This is mainly going to be about Caitvi but will contain others.

Be warned if you haven't watched it!

So firstly what a fucking ride.

The animation, the story and what they have done is absolutely incredible and have set the bench mark for future studios because my tiny brain is blown.

But diving into the things that I thought could have been better, like a lot of people have said, the pacing seemed off when they nailed it in S1. And yes I did wait until everything was released to share my thoughts. We probably got even more Caitvi content than S1, but with everything going on everywhere and it being a faster paced in regards to action, It did seem like the relationship from S1 to the end was just a bit off. Not saying it wasn't incredible, it was, but I think there were things that didn't add to the story much which could have been replaced with other character progression.

Having said that, I watched all of S1 all in one go when it came out, and I think that if we did the same with S2 and one straight after the other, I don't think we would be necessarily seeing it as much. Just my thoughts.

We didn't get an Caitlyn apology only an acknowledgement apart from when she was speaking to Jinx and an angry Vi separately. We could argue that the way she spoke to Vi before the spice was her was of apologising but I don't know I really would have liked a better explanation.

I did love the two sides of one coin but not the fact that you can't have a universe where both sisters live. That broke my heart but understand it. I also do think Jinx survived, and got out the vents and went off in the blimp at the end. I think Cait knew too, being her smart self but knew that Vi would go after her if she knew. That was a sweet scene at the end - even though not a fan of pirate Cait as I said in a previous post. I hope if they do something in the future she has like a fake eye or something I would prefer that over a patch.

Now moving onto the SEX SCENE....

Holy fucking shit. I don't know what I expected but it wasn't that. The animation, the fucking intimacy the likes I have never seen, it was perfect. I do think the setting was a bit weird but when you have all the pent up frustrations and lets be honest they are dramatic lesbians, Its going to happen. I would have liked to have seen it maybe in Cait's bed if anywhere but the urgency mixed with gentleness and all the little micro actions.

The PULL IN AFTER THE UNDOING OF THE BUCKLE.

I can't. Like I am speechless.

It was everything I hoped from a first time, from the giggles to everything else and just every tiny action jesus these animators are something else. I am not ashamed for Netflix to watch the algorithm and see I have watched that same 2 minutes for about 9 hours straight.

It has broken boundaries, not just for queer representation, the fact that neither of them died and got a happy ending in something like Arcane is remarkable, but in regards to animation of a sex scene a lesbian one at that, I think the benchmark has now been set and it will be known as this generations' Korrasami. This is will go down in history and I am not even being dramatic.

Anyway that was more of a ramble than an in depth post, and I have no idea what to do with myself now. We have AO3 and fanart and I guess we will have a bit more content until the end of the month with promotion but I guess when you have a hyperfixation you aren't ready to say goodbye. So I raised a glass to all the content creators who are now going to carry on the mantle. I will be reading and liking everything I can, I salute you.

To summarise, the series could have been better IMO but thats what happens when expectations are so high, there was none of that in series 1 and it was perfect in my eyes. You can't please everyone, but I think Arcane as an overall package is wonderful and Caitvi will live on in my heart and others which have created a benchmark for queer content and I am so proud of everyone involved.

And to all the fellow queers out there...

We did it, we won.

[aftxnrxbxtics]

into the pit

William Afton x f! reader

Summary: don’t stay too late at fredbear’s… or you might end up getting chased and fucked in the ball pit.

Warnings: dub-con, predator/prey dynamic, age-gap, mentions of murder and kidnapping, choking, aggressive sex, innocence kink, forced creampie, william being a sick bastard as always.

A/N: i had this idea for a long time and now i finally decided to write it, so i hope that you all enjoy it!! <3

You’re used to this. Every saturday you spend the entire afternoon at fredbear’s family diner, just to eat ice cream and play the arcade games for hours, nonstop, wanting nothing more than to collect enough tickets to trade in prize counter in exchange for that springbonnie plushie that you’ve always wanted.

Usually the restaurant is crowded, full of kids running around and happy families eating pizza while watching the animatronics performing on stage. But today is different, it’s almost empty.

You try not to think much about it, it’s been raining all day, so probably the heavy storm and thunders are what caused the lack of customers. However, it’s better for you, this time there’s no kids telling you that it’s their turn to play.

Without any distraction, you lose track of time, and before you know it you’re all alone and it’s completely dark outside. What a mistake. You should’ve gone home a while ago.

Just one more game, that’s what you promise to yourself, one more. But when you check the pocket of your jacket, there’s no fazcoins left. You already used all of them, and you’re out of real money too.

Fuck.

Maybe if you check your other pocket…

“I think you need more of these” a deep voice startles you, causing your heart to beat faster. And when you look up, you find a familiar face, it’s Mr. Afton.

You don’t know him, but you always see him around, and as far as you know he’s one of the owners. He seems kind, or at least that’s what you think when you see him there, close to you, offering you a bunch of shiny fazcoins.

You hesitate a little bit, but you end up taking the fazcoins off his big hand. It’s just a nice gift, right? accept it and don’t be rude.

“Thanks” you mutter, more shy than ever, nervously playing with the coins.

You’d be lying if you said that you don’t find him attractive, even though he’s way older than you, perhaps in his late forties, and there’s a hint of grey starting to appear in his hair and beard.

Something in him is extremely alluring, but you don’t know exactly what it is. Maybe it’s his towering height, his authority, or the fact that he’s always well dressed in suit and tie. You have no idea, but it makes you feel like a deer in headlights.

“Uh… i should go home already” you tell him, leaving the coins in your pocket. “Sorry for staying so late”.

William doesn’t answer, he just stares as you hurriedly make your way through the empty restaurant. You’re so sweet, so naive, if only you knew that there’s no way out. You’re trapped and he’s about to have some fun.

Of course, the main entrance is locked and chained, once you notice a shiver runs down your spine.

“You’re not going anywhere” William speaks, and even though you’re not looking at him, it’s obvious that he has a big grin on his face.

Run. That’s the only thing your instinct tells you. Don’t try to open the door, just run and hide.

So you do it. You start running as fast as you can, quickly thinking about which place would be the best to hide, behind the stage? the bathrooms? the kitchen? no, that’s too obvious. Your last option is the playground, if you’re lucky he won’t look there.

You go inside it, thankful for the padded mats muffling the sound of your footsteps, and there it is, the ball pit. You always see the kids playing hide and seek on it, so it must be deep enough for you to fit as well.

Trying to not make too much noise, you dive into the pit, hiding yourself under the colorful balls. It doesn’t matter that your body is trembling in pure fear, just stay still and wait until morning, don’t move.

But do you really think that you can outsmart someone like him? it’s his restaurant, his fun place, and he already knows every hiding spot. Every. Single. One.

Long minutes pass by, and it makes you think that you’re safe there, but in reality it’s nothing more than his twisted games.

When you least expect it, his hand reaches inside and pulls you out to the surface of the pit, in such an aggressive manner that causes your shirt to tear open. Still, you try to scream and fight, but all your effort is in vain, there’s no way for you to escape the grasp of a man who is almost twice your size.

Both of his hands wrap around your neck, squeezing hard, just without the intention of cutting you air flow. He still needs you alive.

“I thought about killing you” William confesses, his raspy voice now more intimidating than ever. “But i think you’re way too pretty to die, so now i have different plans for you”.

“Just let me go, please” you beg, grabbing his wrists, as if your desperate words would change anything. “Please”.

Actually, your pleading eyes and weak voice only make his cock grow hard inside his pants. He loves when someone begs him for mercy, it’s a power dynamic that he always wins.

“Just spread your legs, let me get what i want, and i’ll let you go” he says, taking his hands off your neck and slowly dragging his fingertips down to your exposed chest.

You’re scared and you know that it’s wrong, but you do as you’re told, you spread your legs in an inviting way, allowing him to see your lacey panties under your skirt. You’ve always liked him after all, so the thought of him using you instead of murdering you doesn’t sound as bad.

What you will never know is that he’s had a certain fixation on you too. Since the first time he saw you roaming around the restaurant a few weeks ago he knew he had to put his hands on you. At first, he wanted to ruin your innocence just by taking your life away, but when he realized that you were already a woman his depraved fantasies went somewhere else.

“Such and obedient girl” william says, his long fingers tracing the straps of your bra. “I like that”.

Suddenly, he pulls the fabric down, freeing your tits. And oh, and young body like yours never disappoints, you look so perfect and so soft. Your round tits, still firm and with pretty nipples, only make his gray eyes go almost completely dark in lust.

He can’t wait to see what else you’re hiding under your clothes.

His hands travel down, caressing your thighs, relishing on the tenderness of your skin. And even though he has seen many women before, none of them compares to you… you’re fragile and so fucking innocent.

God, if only you were a few years younger he’d really enjoy tearing you apart.

When his fingers reach your panties he just pulls them to the side, revealing your pussy already glistening with arousal.

“So wet for me” William growls, using his thumb to spread your wetness and rub your clit. “You want this, don’t you? who would have thought that you’d be a total slut”.

You don’t even pay attention to his mocking words or the chuckle that he lets out, you’re just focused on the pleasure he’s causing. His calloused thumb against your sensitive nub feels too good, way better than when you used to touch yourself while thinking about him.

He’s too experienced, so much that just a few more circles on your clit cause a moan to escape from your lips. But once he hears it he stops abruptly, taking his hand away, there’s no way that he’s gonna let you cum so soon.

You open your half-lidded eyes to protest, but then you see him making his way through the colorful balls to position himself between your open legs.

And for a moment, while he’s distracted unbuckling his belt, you think that maybe you could escape and make a run for the back door. But you don’t even dare to try it. Both of you know how bad that would end, so you stay still, just watching as he frees his hard cock.

He’s thick and veiny, leaking beads of precum out of his pink tip, and the mere sight of it makes you regret your decision. You don’t really think you’re capable of taking him inside you, however, it’s too late, before you know it he’s pushing into your tight pussy.

It hurts, so you try to push him away, placing your hands against his broad chest. But it’s useless, William doesn’t care at all, he just laughs at your pathetic attempts and continues having his way with you, burying his cock to the base inside your warm hole.

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size, his movements are careless and aggressive, thrusting hard even if your eyes are filled with tears.

But soon enough, the pain starts to fade away, leaving only the sting of his cock stretching you open. And William seems to know that, he notices the way your body reacts and how your hands slowly stop trying to resist him.

“That’s it” he growls in a condescending manner. “Stop crying and focus on me.”

You don’t answer, everything is happening too fast and your mind is a mess, but when he leans closer, caging you under him, you have no other option but centering you attention on him and nothing else.

You hold onto his purple shirt and close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment, even though you’re surely going to regret it for the rest of your life.

Each drag of his cock feels like nothing you’ve had before, and you can almost swear that you feel every vein and ridge, along with the mushroomed tip bullying your cervix with each violent thrust. And you’d never admit it, but you kinda like getting fucked in such an animalistic way, allowing him to take out all of his frustration on you.

The squelching noises and your whimpers are obscene, and the smell of sex is starting to gross you out, so you bury your face on his neck, inhaling his manly scent instead, a rare mixture of cigarettes and cologne.

His breathing is ragged, you can feel the warmth of it on your shoulder, and soon his thrusts start getting deeper, causing a delicious friction of his hairy pelvis against your clit.

“You feel so good- fuck” William groans, losing his mind over how heavenly your walls grip around him. “You’re so fucking tight. You were made for me, and now finally i get to fill you up with my cum, claiming you as mine forever”.

Your mind is clouded by pleasure, so you don’t realize the danger of his words, but his possessiveness sends you over the edge. You come undone with a muffled cry, arching your back as you let your orgasm take over your body.

You ride out your high, feeling pure bliss until your legs end up shaking. And William is close too, you can tell by the way his muscles are tensing and how his thrusts lose rhythm.

That’s when your heart drops, remembering what he said just a minute ago.

“Don’t cum inside. Please.” you plead, on te verge of tears again, not really wanting to deal with the consequences of it. “Don’t”.

But he just puts a hand over your mouth to shut you up. “I’m not asking for permission”.

Your muffled whines and how your pussy clenches out of fear and desperation is exactly what he wanted. Nothing more enjoyable for him than to cause such emotions in someone vulnerable under his power. You’re the perfect little victim.

William can’t resist it anymore, just a few more thrusts and he cums, grunting as shoves his cock deep inside you one last time, filling you up with his sticky seed.

He empties himself to the last drop and then falls on top of you, not wanting to pull out yet, just staying inside your hot pussy while he catches his breath. He’s an old man after all, he needs a few minutes to recover from a rough fuck.

Once he’s done, he slides out slowly and starts fixing his clothes, not really paying attention to you. He’s indifferent, and now that his fun is over you think that maybe he’s just gonna leave you there, feeling used and filthy, on your own to find your way out of the restaurant.

But he doesn’t. When William buckles his belt again, pretending like nothing happened, he stares down at you once more. You’re still shy, trying to hide your exposed body while looking up at him with big teary eyes, like a wounded animal.

How can he leave you there in such state? He’s not that bad… is he?

So he picks you up on his arms, bridal style, carrying your weight so effortlessly as he walks out of the playground. And you rest your head on his chest, too weak and sleepy to even try to escape from his hold. But weird enough, you don’t feel fear anymore.

“I think i’m gonna keep all to myself” William’s voice seems distant as your eyes begin to close, finally resting after the sudden rush of adrenaline. “You’ll be staying in my basement for a while…”

[silluuuu]

Keep you safe and keep you dreaming

hi friends! wrote a quick lil sickfic for ficwip's 1000-word challenge (write a fic with exactly 1000 words) that doubles as a gift to my no-longer-sick friend @anxietybard!! thank u to @toweroftunes for the beta!! pls give it a read under the cut or on AO3 <3

She hates when he’s sick, and he can’t help feeling guilty about it.

Soul tosses another tissue into the trash-can heap, watching as it tumbles down the mound of bunched-up microbes and nestles itself against the rim. He lets out a sigh that is noisier than usual, mucus corroding the sides of the exhaust pipe that is his throat.

He understands the root of her discomfort, of course. It’s not so much the present cough and sniffles as it is the memories it brings back. It’s the past that eats at her soul, for lack of a better word. Because when he’s sick, she makes herself sick with her own consumption, her own acidic bile of regrets. He knows what she sees, when he’s lying in his own bed in the apartment: the Soul of ten years prior, bedridden and feverish in an infirmary cot, looking like the first cut into an ultra-rare steak.

He tries to remember this, to empathize with this, when she’s being the way she is now, three hours deep into a WebMD rabbit hole and shoving both remedies and conspiracies in his face.

“An orange is a perfectly reasonable thing to eat when you’re sick!” she’s saying from the foot of his bed, holding a plate with a full-on pyramid of them balanced in her left hand, the other hand defensive on her hip.

“S’not the idea of oranges that’s unreasonable, it’s the fact that you’re giving me twelve ,” he grits out. He wants to lie back dramatically, but he’s too clogged up to do so. 

Many moons ago, he would’ve thought of the orange onslaught as a thinly-veiled attempt to keep Blair out of his room, having heard way too many warnings and factoids about cats and their aversions to citrus over the years. As if on cue, Blair yells out a grateful “Thaaank you~!” from the living room, her keen nose having registered the oranges’ absence.

Years prior, Blair would have been way too happy to ‘play nurse’ for him in his vulnerable state - something that had always irked Maka, obviously. To be fair, he sort of feels like having someone lie in bed with him might be pretty helpful for his recuperations, though he has a strong first choice for this assignment, and it certainly has never been Blair.

“Twelve oranges might be good for you!” Maka insists, pinking in the cheeks at his mental suggestions. Their link is always more open when he’s sick; it takes too much effort to keep his walls up that he doesn’t want to expend, and all she usually hears is vague sniffling and doom-and-glooming, so. “Besides,” she adds, suddenly serious. “Scurvy’s making a comeback.”

“You think I have scurvy? ”

“I’m just saying that an orange or twelve couldn’t hurt!” she exclaims, moving to place the plate on his bedside table. He snatches his phone off its charger just in time to avoid death by Annoying Orange, and makes good use of it to pull up the symptoms for scurvy.

As he scrolls, he starts to grin. “Hah. Maybe I caught it from you.” At her curious glance, he adds: “Apparently one of the main symptoms of scurvy is being chronically irritable.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes at him as she exits. Guilt renewed, he sends out an apology on the airwaves, one that she meets with a brush of mental fingers.

M’not going anywhere, okay? he thinks, sending the words through the gap in the door, a love letter. Promise.

There’s a sound like a sigh in her soul, followed by a montage of emotions. An old, deep, burning fear. An undying flame, smothered by time, suddenly reborn. And then - relief. Comfort. And then… guilt of her own, for being the one who needs the comfort.

Go sleep s’more , she thinks back, voice growing weaker as she heads deeper into the house. I’ll be here when you wake up.

The reciprocal I promise that she tacks on is a mere whisper of a thought, but he hears it nonetheless. It’s an effective anesthetic, lulling him into a nap.

He dreams of orange peels and dark cathedrals, the old ache across his ribs tugging at something still-unhealed in his psyche.

When he awakes, it’s to a new smell - a bowl of chicken soup, steam rising and catching the late afternoon sunlight through his window. Next to it, a cascade of saltine crackers arcs along the accompanying plate. A mug of tea sits at its side, steaming slightly as well. The oranges are still there, moved slightly back. She’s left him a tiny space on the table for his phone to sit, which he sheepishly plugs in.

He reaches out for the soup and takes a sip, the ache in his chest slightly soothed. He smiles a little, savoring it, taking in the quiet of the room, the way the steam clears his head, opens his sinuses.

Once he’s almost done, the door clicks open - she’d felt him wake up, of course.

“Is it okay?” she asks.

“S’delicious,” he says, clearing his throat a little.

“Good,” she says, business-like, taking the empty bowl and placing it on the table. And then, slightly less businesslike: “Can I come in?”

He looks up at her, gaze soft as he takes in her embarrassment, as if they haven’t been doing this for years. “Duh.”

She lifts the comforter and clambers in, getting settled and resting her head on his chest.

“You sure you wanna stay?” he asks after a few minutes, poking at her shoulder. “Might get sick.” “S’worth it,” she mutters, ducking her head. “Besides. I’ve had plenty of vitamin C.”

“You sure?” he asks. “Got some oranges I could lend you.”

She scoffs in response, squeezing at his side. 

For the rest of the afternoon, they lie wrapped in each other, comforted by the fact that, amidst the steam and the scent of oranges and the promise of not going anywhere - that suddenly, it’s slightly easier to breathe.

[bad268]

hey i have an idea for a pepe fanfic so basically its after pepe has a crash during a race while leading his girlfriend conforts him? btw i really love your fanfic <3

Join Me (Pepe Marti X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (grazie mille <3)

Warnings: bathing together, spicy ending

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1303

Summary: Pepe has a bad weekend, so the reader comes up with a plan to make him feel better.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

He just wanted to forget this weekend. He wanted to forget this season. Nothing had gone his way, his team was not supporting him, his teammate was not being a team player, and he was ready to quit racing altogether. It was something he had started contemplating a while ago, but when Isack took him out of the race, he’d had it. 

You had stayed back at the hotel because you had some work you needed to catch up on, so you had to watch your boyfriend get taken out, once again, by his teammate. You had to sit there and listen to both radios. The one from Pepe being calm but basically saying “what the fuck” in nicer terms. The one from Isack, crying that Pepe needed to stay out of his way and that he had a championship to win. All of the bullshit he was spuing really fed into your major dislike for him. Before this, you merely tolerated Isack. Now, you would not be so kind. If you ever saw him again, it would be too soon.

You didn't need to hear from Pepe to know how upset he was. It seemed like Isack was always starting trouble and Pepe was left being the most affected every time. You just waited until he came back to the hotel since he would be badgered by the media, and you knew he wouldn’t have access to his phone anyway.

Sooner than you thought, Pepe opens the door and sets his bag off to the side. He looked around, but he couldn’t find you anywhere. You were just getting back to the hotel from a short trip to a nearby store. You picked up some snacks and treats that would, hopefully, cheer Pepe up a bit. You got back into your hotel room, humming along to a song you had heard, and it did not take you long to realize that Pepe was back. Your shock didn’t last long as you saw him face down on your bed in the middle of a much-needed nap. You took this opportunity to finish setting up what you had planned.

You lit a couple of small candles you bought from the store around the bathroom. It was something Pepe did for you whenever something big happened to you, so you took it upon yourself to return the favor. You filled the tub with water and bubbles and dimmed the lights. Then, you left to get Pepe, who was semi-awake. You walked up to the bed to see him lying on his back now, rubbing his eyes harshly before you laid next to him and rubbed his arm gently.

“Hey, baby,” You whispered, getting his attention by moving your hand up into his hair, pushing it away from his eyes. He turned his head to face you with a small smile as he closed his eyes again, relaxing in your presence. “Hi, Pepe.”

“Hey,” he sighed as he stretched his arms over his head again. “Was I out long?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I’ve only been back for ten minutes, but I have a surprise for you. Hopefully, it’ll make you feel better.”

“If it’s what I think it is,” he trailed off as he looked you up and down, “I don’t have enough energy for that.”

“I didn’t think so,” You gave him a pointed look before standing and pulling him up with you. “That’s why I got your favorite snacks and made a relaxing bath for you. Thought it would help you feel better.”

You led him to the ensuite before helping him discard his clothes and get in the tub. You finished dimming the lights and set up your laptop on a chair in the corner. You pulled up Pepe’s favorite movie, knowing it would help him forget this shitty weekend. By the time you looked back at Pepe, he was already lazily looking at you with a small smile on his lips.

“Have I ever told you I love you?” Pepe commented as he rested his head against the side of the bathtub, leaning further into the water.

“Once or twice, you’ve said it,” You chuckled lightly, moving over to leave a kiss on his forehead. You stood back up before glancing around, making sure everything you bought him was within arms reach for Pepe. The movie was already playing, and everything was in its place. “Is there anything else you need from me before I let you relax?” 

“Join me?” Pepe asked as he brought a hand out of the water to grab your wrist. He looked up at you and pouted his lip, “Just for a little bit? I could really use your cuddles right now.”

“Only because you’re cute, and most of our stuff is already packed for tomorrow,” You sighed as you started taking off your shirt. “Want me in the front or back?”

“Wherever you want,” Pepe whispered as he sat up straighter, gauging where you wanted to sit. “I don’t care as long as you’re in here within 10 seconds.”

“That’s a bit bossy, don’t you think?” You teased as you shredded off the last of your clothes. He just looked up at you without commenting, so you gave him a pointed look. “Scoot forward before I regret agreeing to this.”

Quickly, Pepe moved forward to make space behind him for you to step in and sit behind him with your legs on either side of him. Pepe leaned back into your hold with a sigh as you wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders. The water was just below the edge of the tub, so you mentally tried to keep the shifting to a minimum. The last thing you wanted was to clean up the bathroom floor just before an early morning flight. 

“Thank you,” Pepe muttered after a minute or so of silence. He had closed his eyes after you wrapped your arms around him, and he was well on his way to falling asleep in the water. “I know you don’t like baths, but thank you for staying with me. Thank you for being you and always here for me. I love you.”

“And I’ll always be here for you, Pepe. I love you, too,” You comforted as you brushed a hand against his cheek and placed a kiss on his temple. You lay with him in the slowly cooling water with his favorite movie playing in the background, snacks forgotten. About halfway through the movie, you suddenly become aware of the extra weight on your chest and the light snores coming from Pepe. “Please don’t fall asleep on me. I already feel claustrophobic in the water. I don’t need you blocking me in too.”

“I’m not asleep,” Pepe slurred as he sat up again to let you readjust. You jokingly glared at him when he looked back at you.

“You were snoring,” You deadpanned.

“I was resting my eyes?” He offered with a sheepish smile before trying his best to hug you despite him facing the wrong way. “Thank you for not throwing me off. I know you don’t like them, but having you here with me made me feel so much better. Thank you for making me feel better after this shitty weekend.”

“You don’t need to thank me for doing the bare minimum. I’ll always join you when you need me,” You whispered against his lips as you left a short kiss. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we should get out now. We need to be at the airport in like 4 hours.”

“That’s enough time for me,” Pepe smirked as he pulled you in for another kiss, this one more heated and passionate. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

~~~~~

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[scootersscooter]

Something about Lex being so certain she was going to die in Toy Zone and her dying wish being that her sister never needed her the way that she had needed her, that Hannah would be strong enough to escape the mall and still make it out of Hatchetfield to California even if she had no one by her side when she got there

[princessefemmelesbian]

Maybe I’m just being dramatic but it does legitimately scare and sadden me to see that a lot of transandrophobia truthers are literally just…young boys. Like, actual children. Like you’re not even old enough to vote yet and you have your whole life ahead of you and yet you are being manipulated into joining an mra group that hates trans women with a passion and thinks that men are oppressed in society for being men, and constantly uses Black men as their talking point in order to sound diverse and inclusive, meanwhile they’re also appropriating and misusing terminology specifically created by Black women to talk about our own oppression in order to get their misandry point across…to say nothing of the fact that the largest people in this group(including but not limited to its creator!) have misogynistic rape/detrans kinks centered specifically around preying on lesbians and trans women and this is something that is normalized and defended by the vast majority of transandrophobia truthers, or at least defended viciously by every single transandrodork that I’ve ever encountered who argued with me(a lesbian!!!) that actually there’s nothing wrong with getting off to the corrective rape of women because two consenting adults can do whatever they want in the bedroom(yeah right)! Not to mention I have yet to come across a transandrophobia truther who wasn’t also a raging die-hard Zionist.

And that’s why it disturbs me so much to see young trans boys jumping onto this transmisogynistic hate train like you guys realize these men don’t have your best interests at heart, right? They’re only going to manipulate you into being a sexist entitled asshat who shuns and bullies the trans women in your community and sees them as oppressing you. Like I know you’re still in middle/high school but you can still think for yourselves, you can choose to be better than this, you can choose to actually learn about feminism and realize that it’s not actually misandry that oppresses you, it’s transphobia. Misandry doesn’t suddenly become real because you slap a trans paint over it that’s not how it works that’s not how intersectionality works that’s not how any of this shit works. There are better trans men to talk to about trans issues who know that the patriarchy is real and don’t shit on trans women in order to speak out about trans topics, so go seek them out, okay? You absolutely do not have to listen to shit that the “male supremacists but trans” group of lowlives has to say. Hell, tell them to fuck off instead! Please, I promise you that there are much better options, there are ALWAYS better options, and you still have time to escape before they fully radicalize you into basically being an incel. There will ALWAYS be another way. ❤️