#the reason for everything in this show is love

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 11 (The End)

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

I could write more, but quite frankly, I think I would kinda drag it out and the first major arc is tied up with a neat little bow! There are definitely be threads left dangling for me to pick up whenever I want to write more about Sky and Azriel, but I think around 50k is a good place to stop for now ❤️

Even the Spymaster of the Night Court paid taxes.

That was the only reason why Rhysand even found out where exactly Azriel‘s home even was.

Azriel’s home was in the outskirts of Velaris, near the mountains. A little lake cabin. Rhys hadn’t even known that Azriel owned it but apparently he did.

Rhys shouldn’t go there. He knew that.

Rhys should be giving his brother space. That was probably the least he owed him. But he couldn't stop himself. He needed to know Azriel was alright. That he was happy.

Rhys needed to apologise. He needed to make amends…

And Azriel was ignoring him. Mental shields as shored up as they ever had been, shoving back at Rhys at every opportunity…

He had never seen Azriel's mental shields like this before, and it concerned him. He knew Azriel was angry at him, had ever right to be angry,  but Rhys hadn't expected his brother to shut him out so completely.

Reports were still arriving on his desk punctually as always. But Azriel seemed utterly uninterested in actually talking to Rhys. 

It was a small comfort, knowing that Azriel was still working, but Rhysand couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt that had settled deep in his gut. He knew that he had hurt Azriel deeply, and he couldn’t blame his brother for shutting him out.

Rhys wished he could turn back time and fix things, but he had messed up terribly. He knew he had to give Azriel space, but the silence between them was deafening . It was a constant reminder of just how much damage he had caused.

As the days went on, Rhysand found himself consumed by thoughts of what he could have done…should have done… He tried reaching out to Azriel mentally, only to be rebuffed each time. 

Cassian showed up alone for debriefings and if Rhys showed up at the House of Wind for Valkyrie Training, Azriel was nowhere to be seen. 

So finally…Rhys had enough. So he showed up at that house. 

It was a nice house too, a secluded cabin at a mountain lake. Rhys knew that he wasn’t welcome, not after everything that had passed between them, but he had to see Azriel. 

Rhys raised a hand, knocking gently on the door. He could hear the faint sound of movement inside. Rhysand sighed. He should leave. He knew he should leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

And then suddenly, to his surprise…the door opened. 

“…C…Can I….can I h…help you?“

She was brown haired and short… with deep blue eyes and freckles smattering over her nose.

Rhysand looked at the woman in front of him, taken aback by her appearance. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a small, curvy, freckled brunette.

"I, uh..." Rhysand stammered, his mind blanking. "I was looking for Azriel." he finally brought out. 

The small female studied him carefully, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Az…Azriel's n…not h…here," she stuttered.

Rhysand's heart sank, but he tried not to let it show. "Do you know where he is?" he asked, desperate for any information.

The female hesitated, biting her lip slightly. She seemed to be contemplating her answer, her brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, she finally looked back up at him, her expression unreadable. "He…He's...o…out f…for t…the d…day," she said finally, not giving him anymore than that.

Rhysand tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but it was difficult. He was so close to his brother, and yet so far away. "Do you know when he'll be back?" he asked sharply.

She nearly flinched away from him at that tone of voice.

He opened his mouth to apologise, but he didn't even get to that. Because some thing with wickedly sharp claws, launched itself at his head with a hissing sound.

Rhysand yelped as the mysterious creature swiped at his face, growling all the while.

"HECTOR NO!" The female shrieked.

Rhysand stumbled backwards, trying to dodge the sharp claws.

Just at that moment, he felt more than he heard his brother's arrival.

Azriel materialized between them with a loud flapping of wings, his siphons blazing. He stood protectively in front of the small female, his expression murderous.

"Hector to me," he snapped. The thing, a cat ...an incredible ugly , murderous looking cat let off Rhys with another growl and slunk back to Azriel's side, heeling like a dog. The woman quickly scooped him up in her arms.

Cassian's laughter washed over him, at that moment, as Rhys was still laying on the ground, bested by a cat .

"Taking down by a cat now, Rhysie?" Cassian asked him with a snort, offering him his hand to gain his feet.

Rhys already knew that he was never going to live this down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Azriel hissed, his voice filled with anger. His wings were spread wide, and Rhysand could see the barely contained ferocity beneath his brother's cold facade.

Rhysand winced at Azriel's harsh tone. He knew he had messed up, and he didn't blame his brother for being angry with him. "I just wanted to see you," he said, feeling small under Azriel's penetrating glare.

Azriel's expression didn't soften at his words. "You had no right," he said sharply. "You can't just show up here unannounced, Rhysand. This is my home, and you're not welcome here. You terrified Sky!"

Sky. Sky. That was the name of his brother's mate...of the pretty brunette that was standing behind him, fussing over her murderous cat.

Rhysand glanced over at Sky guiltily. "I...I'm sorry," he said to her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Sky hesitated, before nodding stiffly. Her face remained guarded, her arms still wrapped protectively around the mangy cat. Rhysand couldn't help but notice how small she looked compared to Azriel's imposing form…and the absolute massive cat. 

"I am sorry," he turned to his brother, swallowing. The apology wasn't enough. he knew that. And it wasn't going to fix the fact that Azriel didn't trust him anymore or... *Az. Please.*

"How did you find this house?" Azriel demanded.

"I checked the tax reports," Rhys admitted with a grimace.

Azriel's expression darkened even further, and Rhys braced himself for a reprimand. Instead, his brother let out a harsh, bitter chuckle. "Of course you did," he said flatly. "Just can't stay out of my business, can you?"

Rhysand felt a pang in his chest at the hostility in Azriel's voice. He knew he deserved every ounce of resentment his brother felt, but it still hurt deep to hear it out loud. "I...I was worried about you," he said lamely.”I just needed to see you." he added. "To apologise."

"You don't even realise the lines you keep crossing, do you?" Cassian asked him flatly. "Ever thought about the fact that maybe you should have waited until Azriel was ready to hear you out?

Rhysand winced. Cassian's words struck a nerve, and he knew his friend was right. He had been rash and insensitive in coming here unannounced. "I...I wasn't thinking," he admitted softly.

Cassian shook his head, his expression still stern. "That's the problem, Rhys," he said bluntly. "You never seem to think these days. It's like you're so caught up in your own head that you don't consider how your actions affect those around you."

Rhysand's gaze dropped, shame washing over him. Cassian's words pierced straight through him, and he struggled to find a response. He knew he had been making mistakes, but hearing them laid out so bluntly still stung.

"What do you want?" Azriel asked him flatly. "Why did you come here?"

"I wanted to apologise," Rhys said weakly. "I...fucked up. I know that. I want to...fix things."

Azriel's face remained impassive, his eyes hard. "You can't just fix things with an apology, Rhys," He said curtly. "You crossed more than one line, and you shattered my trust. Do you really think saying sorry is enough?"

"Az," his mate said softly, her voice quiet. "H..He's blee..bleeding all over our front lawn after my cat at..attacked him. At least let him sit down and give him a healing salve…"

Azriel turned to look at his mate, his anger softening ever so slightly at the concern in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh, before nodding stiffly. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But no more than that."

Rhysand nodded gratefully, relieved that Azriel was willing to let him in, even if only slightly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I...I really am sorry."

Azriel didn't respond, turning away from him and herded Sky and the murder cat into the house. Rhysand watched him go, feeling a pang of sadness. It was clear that his brother's anger was far from abated, and he knew it would take a lot more than just an apology to mend their fractured relationship.

"Come on," Cassian prodded him up.

The first thing that Rhys realised about the house Azriel shared with his mate was that it was absolutely stuffed full with books. The second was, that Azriel clearly doted on the Murder Cat that got a crystal dish with tuna on it put on the floor before Azriel even went in the direction of the healing salve, which he slapped down on the table in front of Rhysand. .

"I…I am so…sorry," Sky apologised to Rhys, bright blue eyes apologetic. "H…Hector has nev…never done anything like that before, I swear."

Yeah, somehow he doubted that. But he also doubted that it was going to help his relationship with Azriel if he was going to annoy his mate about her beastly cat. The thing had a worse personality than Amren��. 

"Don't worry about it," he said, with what he hoped he was a gracious smile. "I think your cat and I just got off on the wrong foot." He looked over at the cat, who was now happily devouring the tuna as if it hadn't just tried to claw his face off.

"Good Boy, Hector," Azriel said warmly.

Rhysand could just stare.

Azriel, the feared Spymaster of the Night Court, was cooing at a mangy cat like a proud parent. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

"Who knew the Spymaster had a soft spot for cats," Rhysand remarked with a faint smile. Azriel shot him a warning glare, but the sternness was lost at the tender way he was petting the cat. "I am really sorry," Rhys apologised again.

"You said so. Numerous times," Azriel shot back.

Rhysand sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He knew Azriel was still angry with him, but it was hard not to feel the guilt weighing down on him. "I know," he said softly. "But I want you to know that I mean it. I am sorry, Azriel. For everything."

Azriel's expression remained impassive, but Rhysand could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes. He knew his brother was struggling to forgive him, but he hoped that with time, Azriel would be able to find it in his heart to do so.

"I just want to make things right," Rhysand said earnestly. "I miss you, Az. I miss my brother."

"You'll need to decide one of those days," Azriel said sharply. "Am I your soldier or am I your brother?"

Rhysand flinched at the words, feeling the weight of the accusation hit him hard. 

He had always tried to balance his role as High Lord with his relationship with his brothers, but he knew that…that he hadn’t been fair to Azriel for a long time. "You're right," he conceded quietly. "I have been treating you like my soldier instead of my brother, and that's not fair to you."

"You have been treating him absolutely deplorably," Cassian cut him off.

Rhysand hung his head, feeling the weight of his mistakes settling heavy on his shoulders. "I know," he said quietly. "I've been so caught up in my own problems and responsibilities as High Lord that I lost sight of what really matters. And I've hurt Azriel because of it."

"And you stuck your nose in things that are none of your business," Cassian continued. "I get it that you are tired of fighting, Rhys, we all are, but you can't keep conflict out of our family by ordering Azriel to behave in the way you would like him to."

Rhysand winced, knowing Cassian was right. He had been trying to control things, to make sure everyone was safe and happy, but in the process, he had driven a wedge between himself and his brothers. "I...I know," he admitted reluctantly. "I was…I was stupid. I am tired of war. Of fighting. And I was just trying to protect him, but I went about it all wrong."

" Protect me?" Azriel asked him, his voice dripping with disdain. " Protect me from what ?"

Rhysand looked away, feeling the shame rise within him. He knew he had overstepped, and he knew that Azriel was angry with him. "The consequences that would have arisen," he said delicately. He didn't know what Azriel had told his mate...didn't know how much she knew, but she was watching him with an expression on his face, he couldn't quite place.

"Well, I am an��adult, Rhysand," Azriel snapped. "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself."

Rhys knew that. He knew Azriel was more than capable of taking care of himself. But he still felt the need to protect him, to shield him from harm.

"I...I know that," Rhysand said quietly. "I just didn't want to see you get hurt." He glanced over at Azriel's mate, who was still watching him warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being evaluated, judged for his mistakes.

Azriel let out a dry chuckle. "Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?" he said bitterly. "You've seen to that already." Rhysand winced at the accusation, knowing that he deserved every ounce of Azriel's anger.

"I know," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I am sorry for that. I see now that it was the wrong way to go about it." He looked into his brother's dark eyes, pleading for understanding.

Azriel met his gaze, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Protecting me by making decisions for me is not protecting me, Rhysand," he said quietly. "It's...it's suffocating. It's demeaning."

Rhysand nodded, knowing that Azriel was right. He had been trying to control everything, trying to make sure that nothing went wrong, and he had lost sight of what was truly important. "I understand," he said quietly. "And I am sorry for making you feel that way. It was wrong of me."

Azriel studied him for a moment, before finally sighing. "Just...stop it," he said simply. "No more interfering in my personal life, no more giving me orders like I am one of your soldiers."

Rhysand let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I promise," he said earnestly. "I won't do it again, Az. I...I'll respect your boundaries, and I'll never overstep again."

Azriel snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said gruffly. "And if you do...if you try to control me like that again, I swear Rhysand...it won't end well."

"You'll ha…have He…Hecctor to contend with," Sky said, her voice even.

Rhysand looked over at Hector, who had finished his tuna and was now licking his chops.  Rhys swallowed. "He does seem to be a force to be reckoned with," he said carefully.

Sky gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. "You could say t…that," she said, her tone neutral. Azriel snorted a laugh, shaking his head as he watched his mate. It was the first genuinely carefree sound Rhysand had heard from his brother…in a long time.

Despite the earlier tension, Rhysand found himself smiling too. There was something about the way Azriel looked at his mate, the way he looked...happy, that made Rhysand feel like maybe everything would be alright.

Hector chose that moment to let out a loud meow, his voice sounding like a rusty hinge in the otherwise quiet room. Azriel looked down at the cat, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll get you your second helping, spoiled brat," he said, a hint of fondness in his voice.

Rhysand chuckled, feeling the tension that had been weighing him down lift just a little. Things between him and Azriel weren't repaired yet, they had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long while, he felt hopeful.

“They do say the pen is mi…mightier than a sword,” Sky said suddenly. “You treat Azriel like that again and you’ll see just how mighty my pen is.”

Rhysand's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Sky's unexpected threat. It was clear that she wasn't messing around, and Rhys couldn't help but admire her boldness. He glanced over at Azriel, who was trying to suppress a smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rhysand said, trying to hide his amusement. "Though I have to say, I can’t imagine a pen being as terrifying as Hector."

Cassian snorted. “Oh you have no idea,” he muttered

Rhysand's eyes widened in curiosity at Cassian's comment. What on earth did that mean? But before he could inquire further, Azriel's voice broke through.

"Don't worry about it," he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's just say that you don't want to get on Sky's bad side, especially when she has her writing instruments within reach."

"Duly noted," Rhysand said, nodding seriously. He had a feeling that Azriel's mate was not someone to be trifled with, regardless of how harmless she looked, and he had no intention of finding out first-hand just how mighty her pen truly was.

Hector, having finished his second helping of tuna, let out a satisfied meow before padding over to Sky and rubbing against her leg. She reached down and scratched him behind the ears, smiling as he purred contentedly.

Rhysand watched the scene. He had never seen Azriel so relaxed, so happy, and it made him realize just how badly he had missed his brother. It was a reminder that family was more important than anything, and that he needed to cherish the people he cared about.

“Seems like you aren’t Sky’s favourite,” Cassian drawled.

Azriel snorted. “Nah, I come a distant third behind Hector and the shadows.”

Rhys watched with a swallow as these shadows that he had seen torturing people came over to Sky and twined around her hands. Azriel's words were said in jest, but Rhysand could hear the fondness in his voice. It was clear that Azriel adored his mate, and that the shadows had taken a liking to her as well. Rhysand tried not to let the slight sting of jealousy show on his face.

As he watched, the shadows danced around Sky's fingers, like they were alive and had a mind of their own. Rhys had seen the shadows in action, had seen how Azriel used them to fight and spy, but he had never seen them act this way before. There was a tenderness in the way they twined around Sky that was almost...beautiful.

Rhys turned to Azriel, who was watching his mate with a soft expression on his face. "They seem to like her," he commented, keeping his voice neutral.

"That's an understatement," Azriel said drily. "They're obsessed with her. They won't leave her alone."

Rhysand could see that clearly, but what surprised him more was how comfortable Sky seemed with them. She wasn't scared or even bothered by their presence...

It did make sense he supposed. The shadows were Azriel's weapon, his most trusted companions...that they would like his mate.

Rhysand watched as Sky looked up from where the shadows were wrapping around her fingers, a faint smile on her face. She seemed completely at ease with the strange entities, as if they were just another part of Azriel that she had accepted and embraced.

And it was also a sharp reminder of how much trust Rhys had destroyed through his actions. It was very clear who Azriel preferred, who he trusted more. Who he gravitated towards. Who even his shadows doted on, these strange, creatures that Rhys was quite sure would stop at nothing to keep their master safe.

The realization stung, but Rhys knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had caused this rift between them, he had pushed Azriel away, and now he was paying the price for it. But he was determined to make it right, no matter how long it took.

As he watched Azriel gently brush away a stray strand of hair from Sky's face, Rhys made a silent vow. He would do whatever it took to repair their broken bond, to regain Azriel's trust and respect. No matter how hard it was, no matter how long it took, he would make things right.

***

"You want to talk about it?" Sky asked him quietly, after Cassian ad Rhys had gone. 

She was fine now. Content. No more pulling at the mating bond so harshly and pushing all her fear at him. It had shaved at least a century of his life, to feel that from her when Casisan and him had been sparring and he knew that she was supposed to be safe at home.

He had expected near everything…but he hadn’t expected to arrive to the view of Hector scratching Rhys’s face with all his might. 

Azriel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events bearing down on him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to put his tangled emotions into words yet, but he also knew that he couldn't keep it all bottled up inside.

"Rhys gave me some orders that I didn't agree with," he said drily. "Stuck his nose in things that he had no business to interfere with. He treated me...treated me like my feelings didn't matter. That I didn't matter....It took a really bad fight on Solstice for this apology to occur," he said with a grimace.

"You don't think he means it?" Sky asked him curiously, turning to look at him.

"No, he does mean it," Azriel said with a sigh. He did believe that. “He wants to fix things. to rebuild trust...And I do want that too. Regardless of how much of an asshole he can be on occasion he is still my brother ."

Sky was quiet for a long moment, watching him intently. Azriel felt the weight of her gaze, knowing that she was analyzing the situation, trying to understand what he was feeling. Finally, she spoke.

"You're worried that he'll disappoint you again," she said softly. "That he'll make promises that he can't keep. That he'll go back on his word and hurt you worse than before."

Azriel's throat felt tight. The words hit him hard, because Sky had put a voice to his deepest fears. "Yes," he admitted. "That'sexactly what I'm afraid of. I want to believe him, I do."

But it was hard to trust Rhys right ow. Especially with Sky. Trusting Rhys with the most important, the most precious part of his life...

"I can loan you Hector whenever he pisses you off again," Sky offered him seriously, and Azriel couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks," he said with a small smile. "I might just take you up on that." He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. The scent of caramel and hazelnuts enveloped him, calming his racing thoughts and easing the tension in his shoulders.

"I love you, he whispered into her skin and she hummed. "Regardless of what happens, you  have me," Sky promised him. "I'll be behind you, every step of the way. regardless of whatever you decide."

Those words were like a balm to Azriel's soul. The fear and doubt that had been plaguing him since Rhysand's unexpected visit receded, replaced by a sense of safety and certainty. He held onto Sky tightly.

"I love you too," she murmured, the words barely audible even in the still apartment.

They stayed like that for a long moment, simply holding onto each other.

*I don't think I ever thanked you.* he told the shadows softly as he held his mate in his arms.

The shadows fluttered around him, wrapping around his arms and shoulders like a comforting embrace. They didn't say anything, but Azriel could feel their response. They had been with him through thick and thin, protecting him, guiding him, and never once asking for a word of thanks. And yet, he knew that they understood his gratitude, that they could feel it…

*Thank you for finding her.*

[askshivanulegacy]

Posts like these always strike me as ... off-key somehow.

As a writer and an artist, I began posting my work because it was there.

I draw for myself. I write for myself.

I post because I CAN. Because my work is available and there's no reason not to. Because I can have a neatly organized portfolio that I can share if I ever want. Because I just like scrolling through my thumbnails on my art sites or my summaries on A03.

They show progress and achievement.

I don't need anyone else to tell me what I've achieved.

Two decades ago, well before A03 was ever a real thing, when I was doing a lot of my late night reading and thinking, I realized something foundational.

Your stories - my stories - connect you with the reader. For a short moment in time, you are the same. You have the same thoughts and feelings and goals and dreams. That author you're reading understands you on a level you might never be able to articulate to anyone, and you understand them. That means there's a person, somewhere on the planet that identifies with your most secret feelings.

And that's true for every story. And that's true whether you can say anything to the author about it or not.

And that means every story is worth sharing, even if just one person out there loves it, even if they never say so. It's worth it, for that one, silent person.

You don't need people to tell you that you have an impact for that impact to be very real.

And that's beautiful. It means everything.

The other piece of creation is that you, as a creator, cannot outsource your happiness.

There's nothing wrong with encouraging engagement, but you simply have no say in it. It's not something you can control or influence. Whether you post or don't post, it will not affect what other people do about it.

There is a harmful trend of creators deciding they NEED engagement. They become addicted to it and suddenly the only reason they create is for attention. The only reason they post is for attention. And because they've outsourced their happiness but can't control it, they crash and burn if they don't get whatever levels of engagement they've decided they want.

You, as a creator, need to find internal motivation. You need to develop the basic strength to be satisfied with your work. You need to develop a healthy relationship with your work.

Yes, it's a crying shame that readers/viewers do not bother to provide feedback. But you also cannot allow the actions of other random people to dictate what you do. You will ALWAYS end up disappointed. They will never perform up to your standards.

There is at least one person out there who was changed by your work, and that means something, even if they haven't said so. It's more important than sitting on your creations for no real reason other than someone you don't know not doing something very specific.

You can always do what you want with your stuff. If you don't want to share, then it's a choice. But is not sharing because you're bitter about unspecified randos really how you want to do it? Are you going to let bitterness dictate what you do? Or are you going to make your decisions for yourself?

You can only ever make an impact and you can only ever get feedback, however rare, by sharing.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[mollysunder]

Jinx NEEDS to read Silco's diary! When Jinx went into Silco's safe, she didn't actually read his diary.

That means Jinx never read what Silco said about Felicis's pregnancy.

Jinx never learned that to Silco, before things went by the wayside, living and caring was an inherent act of transgression. That to bring a child into their world took bravery because there was no guarantee for their safety, there was just hope that they could make things better.

After Act 2, I can't imagine Silco's diary alone would help completely Jinx, but I think it could offer a piece of insight Jinx never had about Silco or the rest of her family. For the longest time Jinx has convinced herself she's been a curse on her family that she doesn't realize every person who's ever loved her chose to love her. Nothing in Zaun is guaranteed, not food, clean water, health, safety, or even light and but Felicia, Connol, Silco, Vander, Vi, Mylo, Claggor, and Isha all chose to love her, because that's the only risk worth taking.

In Arcane love is treated as something that inherently exposes someone, makes them "weaker". The only way love isn't a weakness, is when the world isn't a place that punishes it. Jinx was loved and still is loved because her family believed she deserved to be in a world like that and fought for it. They fought for her.

I have some hope that when Jinx returns she might learn this because the bandages in her trunk resembles her new top for her endgame outfit.

[hauntedfictionland]

❝Euphoria❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem! Reader!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jacaerys loves you. But he cannot have you. And it is killing him slowly.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Heartbreak, one sided feelings and lots of tears.

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: In this timeline, Rhaenyra never moves to dragonstone so reader and Jacaerys grow together because I didn't really know how to fit it otherwise. It's something shorter than what I would usually write.

Jacaerys significantly remembers the first moment he fell in love with you. You, Aegon and Aemond's sister, younger than the eldest but older than Daeron. Kind of in the middle really but you fell in the youngest ones. After Criston had urged Aegon to spar with him, and ser Harwin Strong saved him, you came. He had been sitting in the garden with an oak tree above, a frown on his lips and a cut on his left cheek by one of Aegon's kicks. And you walked up to him. That same glow on your face and a light that didn't seem to be there until you arrived.

He never really noticed you until that moment. Jacaerys was the first born son of his mother. The heir after heir. While you were the fourth child, after Haelena and of course, Aemond. You weren't a son. Or a first born daughter. He didn't seem to have any particular reason to talk to you. But that evening changed it forever.

You bend down towards him, a comforting smile on your lips. He watches as you ruffle his hair, so gently it sends shivers down his skin. You were called the pink doe, because of how kind you were. And you wore pink and white most of the time. And of course, very beautiful. He never noticed it until that moment. How? he didn't know. Jacaerys was a child, but he could feel love. You pull out a white flower from behind you, tucking it behind his ear.

Jacaerys closed his eyes when you pressed your lips to his ear, right where the cut was. And suddenly he can't even feel the pain anymore. Not when there was you. And there was euphoria.

He started paying a lot more attention to you afterwards. In fact, you, were all that he had on his mind. How you laughed, the blushes on your cheeks when someone—especially Aemond, complimented you, or when your embroidery got noticed by your mother. The queen Alicent. He noticed it all. And Jacaerys couldn't get it out of his head. He figured it was a phase, that he'd eventually grow out of it, yet years passed by, you both turned ten and three and he was speechless when you would show up in a golden and red dress at some family dinner, then fourteen came and your scent, vanilla and rosemary, stuck in his nose when air blew and your gorgeously blonde hair waved in his face.

And then fifteen came, when he finally accepted the fact he was oh so inevitably and irreversibly in love with you. Everything about you, he would accept. That you were a green, that your brothers were Aegon and Aemond. And even if you were like them, like the hightowers—which you weren't, you were the kindest and most gentle heart he had ever met, but even if you were, he would accept it with open arms. Because you, to him, were his great love. His euphoria. A feeling he always felt with you.

A dream. Because one day becoming king, and you, to rule by his side? to be his queen? it was a dream. And it was the best and most beautiful one he wished for. However little did he know, it would only stay a dream.

Because one windy day, right when he wanted to ask you to marry him, right under that same oak tree, you told him something that broke him in two.

You were betrothed to Aemond.

“What?” his heart falls, throat swelling dry. He can barely speak.

“Our mother arranged it. She thought he and I made good company and...” you sigh, your eyes closed as you smiled, “I've loved him for so long. It finally feels a dream come true.”

Oh. He watched as you look so in love, just with the thought of him. Just like how he looks thinking of you. He watched as a feast was thrown in the celebration of both your betrothal, he watched as you dance with each other, his hands on your waist and a gleaming smile on your lips, he watched as you take your wedding vows, and share a kiss. He watched Aemond claim his euphoria and love it like he was the one meant to be with you. Not him.

Jacaerys never imagined himself crying under that same oak tree after your wedding was over. He also never thought he would cry himself sleep, pillow soaking in tears you caused. He never thought he would get betrothed to any other that wasn't you. Well, Baela now, looked joyed to be his future wife. And the future queen. Yet he can't stop thinking about the crowns you both would have worn. The children you both could have had. The love you both could have shared. He can't stop thinking about his euphoria.

And he doubts he ever would stop.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛! 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒.

[sematarygirls]

      BOYFRIEND!RAFE x DEPRESSED!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ depression, rafe gives reader a bath, but it's not sexual, fluff, the teeniest bit of angst if you squint at the beginning

NOTES .ᐟ this isn't my best work, but i'm writing it more for comfort than anything else, and i wanted to post it just in case anyone out there is also struggling and could use it <3

Something was up, and Rafe could tell. You were usually so clingy, wanting to spend every moment with him, and he was not complaining by any means. He loved having his girl at his side, showing her off at every occasion, but it had been almost two weeks since he last saw you, which was so very out of the ordinary.

You would answer his texts at first, always coming up with some excuse for why you couldn't see him. First, you were sick. He offered to come over and take care of you, but you'd insisted that you didn't want him to catch whatever you had, so he eventually acquiesced and settled on checking in on you periodically.

But then, your responses slowly became more and more infrequent. Rafe was at a loss. Had he done something to upset you? Why were you being so cold and distant? He couldn't think of any fights you two had recently. Everything seemed perfect until you started pulling away out of the blue.

He texted you to tell you he was coming over, but you hadn't seen it by the time he showed up at your house, all but pounding on the door. He was a little angry, very annoyed, and more than a bit jealous. Were you with some other guy in there? Is that why you hadn't been answering him.

Those feelings immediately dissipated, however, when the door slowly creaked open and you peeked out. Your hair was tangled and greasy, haphazardly thrown up and out of the way. You had dark circles under your eyes and a small frown on your face, your brows pinching when you saw him.

His expression softened as he softly murmured your name. You stepped back, allowing him inside, and he shut the door behind him, his eyes never leaving your disheveled form. "Baby, what's wrong?" He asked gently, approaching you like he would a skiddish animal.

"You shouldn't have come," you said quietly, your gaze downcast. You were embarrassed that he was seeing you like this. The whole reason you'd been avoiding him was so he wouldn't see this part of you—the part that struggled to get out of bed whenever a major depressive episode hit.

He ignored your words, stepping closer and tilting your chin up, so he could look at you. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he coaxed softly. "Is this why you've been dodging my calls and texts?"

You nodded slowly, feeling guilty. You hadn't meant to ignore him, but texting people had become a chore as of late. You couldn't bring yourself to do it, to have to explain why you were acting so off. You just wanted to shut out the world and wallow in your misery.

He sighed, his thumbs coming up to caress your cheeks gently. He hated seeing you like this. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to take away all your sorrow and make you happy again. "Why didn't you tell me, baby?"

"I just- I didn't want you to see me like this," you said softly. "I look like shit. It's gross and pathetic..."

"Hey, don't say that shit about yourself, alright?" he said firmly. "You're beautiful, always, and you're not pathetic. You're going through a hard time and that's okay. I'm here for you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears at his words. He was so gentle, so understanding and patient. He was perfect, and you were... you.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'm gonna run you a warm bath, okay? Gonna wash your hair and get you all cleaned up."

"You don't have to do that," you said quietly. You didn't want to be a burden, for him to feel like he had to take care of you just because you were dating.

"I know that, but I want to, alright? Just-Just let me take care of you, yeah?" He stared at you expectantly, waiting until you gave him a reluctant nod before he took your hand and pulled you toward the bathroom. "Sit," he ordered, pointing to the lowered toilet seat.

You complied, sitting and watching him as he turned the water on, testing the temperature with his hand and adjusting it until it was just the way he knew you liked it before he flipped the drain stopper. He poured in some of your favorite scented bubble bath, waiting for the water to fill the tub.

He turned back to you, kneeling down to take your hands in his. "Okay baby, let's get you undressed and in the tub, yeah? I'll wash your hair for you."

You chewed your lip nervously, looking at him with uncertainty. You were hardly in any shape to be perceived by anyone, let alone your perfect boyfriend. You couldnt remember the last time you shaved your body or did any personal grooming for that matter. You'd just been so physically and mentally drained as of late.

He cupped your cheek, gently using his thumb to pull your lower lip from your teeth. He hated when you did that, always saying you were ruining your pretty lips. "You're always gorgeous to me," he reassured you. "I don't care what you look like. Right now, I just wanna take care of my girl, alright?"

You hesitated but nodded. "Okay," you said softly. You knew he was just trying to help, and you also knew you desperately needed your hair washed before it reached the point of no return. You'd hated how bad you'd let it get, but you couldn't bring yourself to even attempt the attention and effort that detangling and washing would entail.

With careful movements, Rafe helped ease your shirt over your head, revealing your bare skin to his gaze. His expression was non judgemental, his touch reverent as he helped you out of your clothes. "You're doing so good, baby," he murmured, his words soothing the nerves that were bubbling in your stomach. "In you go," he said, once you were finally out of your dirty clothes.

You stepped into the warm bath, the hot water and calming smell helping you relax a fraction. You pulled your knees to your chest with a soft sigh. You were so sensitive and vulnerable in that moment, and Rafe's kindness made your chest tighten and your eyes mist.

He smiled softly at you, the picture of a loyal, caring boyfriend. He would do anything for you. "There you go, sweetheart. Gonna feel so much better after a nice long bath." He knelt beside the tub, running his hand over your hunched back soothingly for a few moments.

He let you get adjusted and relaxed before reaching for your hair tie, gently pulling it out and revealing your tangled hair. You closed your eyes, waiting for some remark about how you need to take better care of yourself or how your hair was a mess, but it never came. "Alright baby, let's get this pretty hair washed for you," was all he said, his tone soft and comforting. "Can you lean back for me?"

You nodded, unfurling yourself from your curled up position and leaning back, letting your hair soak up the water. "There you go," he murmured, making sure your hair was thoroughly wetted before helping you sit back up straight. He reached for the conditioner, coating your hair in an ungodly amount and running it through the strands as best he could to help soften your hair and make it easier to detangle before grabbing a wide tooth comb. "This might hurt a little, baby. I'm sorry, but you'll feel so much better when we're all done."

He worked meticulously, starting at the ends and slowly, carefully working out each knot and tangle, murmuring soft apologies whenever he hit a bad one that tugged at your scalp. He had experience with this kind of thing, having helped Wheezie with her hair a lot when she was a kid. He was so gentle and patient, making sure he didn't pull too hard.

It made you grateful because if you were doing this yourself, you already knew you would've gotten frustrated and started practically ripping your hair out as you roughly yanked the comb through your hair until you were in tears.

The fact that he regarded you with a tenderness and compassion you didn't even award yourself made your heart swell with love, but it also made guilt tug at you. This was the man that you'd been ignoring—this man that was so attentive and loved you so much.

"You're doing so good, baby. I know it hurts, but you're being so brave for me. I'm so proud of you," he said gently, continuing to work through your hair. He didn't show any signs that he was getting frustrated or annoyed, he just continued to hold himself with pure adoration and care for you.

His sweet words made tears well up in your eyes. You didn't understand how you could ever deserve someone like him, someone who loved you completely and unconditionally. His words of assurance were something you'd desperately needed to hear after weeks of listening to your own brain demean and demoralize you.

"There we go, sweetheart. All done. You did so well," he praised you gently as he finally finished up, running the comb through the last of the tangles. He helped you lean back, rinsing the conditioner. He made sure to get all the excess product out before helping you sit back up, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

He squirted a generous amount onto his palm, lathering it in his hands and applying it into your scalp. He washed it out and applied more until it started to froth up, signaling that your hair was finally getting clean.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly as he worked the shampoo into your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp in slow, soothing circles. You felt guilty for a lot of things, for ignoring him, for making him spend his time on you like this, for being this way in the first place. Your brain had convinced you that you were a burden on everyone around you, and you hated the thought of Rafe having to put up with you when he could have any other normal girl.

His hands stilled in your hair, and he tiled your head so you were looking at him. His expression was serious, deadly so, and for a moment, you thought he was mad at you. "Don't. Don't you ever apologize, okay? You've got absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You understand me?"

You nodded, his words and actions meaning more to you than he could ever know. He always knew what to say, what to do to make you feel better. He made you feel important and loved, and you needed that, especially right now. "Thank you."

His gaze softened, a gentle smile spreading across his handsome features. "You don't need to thank me, baby. Caring for you is the easiest thing in the world. I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes—so beautiful, inside and out."

After throughly massaging your scalp, he washed out the shampoo, applying a final layer of conditioner to ensure your hair stayed soft and retained moisture. "Do you wanna wash your body, or do you want me to?" He asked gently. He wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, and if you would be too embarrassed with him touching you like that, he respected it.

"I can- um- I can do it," you said quietly. He had already done so much for you already, and as much as you loved being doted on and cared for, it didn't erase the nerves and insecurity that were swirling through your mind.

"Okay, sweetheart. Take your time. I'm right here if you need anything at all," he reassured you. You washed up and rinsed the conditioner out of your hair, the water uncomfortably cold by the time you were done since detangling had taken forever.

Rafe was ready with a towel by the time you were finished. "Come on, baby, let's get you out. You're probably freezing," he said, helping you up and wrapping the towel around you, rubbing the material against your skin to help warm you up before grabbing a separate towel to help you dry off your hair.

You let him take care of you, drying you off before steering you to your bedroom to get dressed. He knew your drawer set up by heart, having helped you put your clean clothes away more than once. "You really don't have to do all that," you mumbled, watching him carefully choose some comfortable, clean clothes for you.

"I already told you that I want to," he said firmly, plucking out your favorite pajamas. "Now, we're gonna get you dressed and settle in on the couch because we gotta get you out of this bed. It's not good for you to stay in it all day," he told you, helping you into your clean clothes. You felt a little silly being assisted getting dressed and undressed, but you were so appreciative that he cared enough about you to help you like this.

"Sorry for the... mess," you said, wincing as you glanced around at your dirty room. It looked like a disaster area, and you only just now seemed to clock how bad it was.

"I already told you to quit apologizing," he gently scolded you. "We can clean it up later, together, but right now, we're going to go watch some TV and get some food in you, okay?"

You nodded, mustering a small smile. "I love you, Rafe," you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

"I love you too, baby, so so much," he murmured. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You inhaled his scent, a smell that was distinctly his and always seemed to calm and relax you, his tight grip on you serving to ground you in that moment, reminding you that there are people who cherish you even in your darkest days.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif

[niceonejames7]

watermelon pyjamas

sirius realises he is, in fact, in love with you. (a classic oh. oh no. moment)

words: 1.3k

genre: fluff

cw: none

a/n: i really liked writing it, but now I'm not so sure. i saw a prompt like this, but now I can't find it, but anyways

.......

Sirius didn't believe his friends when they would say he's in love with you.

“You blokes just can't appreciate our friendship.” He would defend himself.

"Mate, she's our friend too." James would reason, “You're the only one being ‘accused’” He put the last word in air quotes, showcasing the ridiculousness of Sirius' own words.

It's not as if he's never acknowledged how pretty you are. Of course he has, he'd be a fool not to. But to him, acknowledging this fact was as if he'd been asked to confirm if the sky was blue. There's no doubt about it.

Sirius would deny it in front of his friends, but it's another truth how he feels when he comes home in the evening after you've already arrived. Sometimes he would purposely be late, so he could come home to you. Opening the door is a hassle, he reasoned with himself. 

But truly, the reason was you. Some days, you'd be in the kitchen in his shirts, wearing ankle high socks which made him want to squeeze you to death, he could never find a reason why. Another day, you'd be in the living room watching some other show, waiting for him to come home so you both can finally watch the show you both like. Sometimes you're fast asleep, then he can cover you with a blanket and watch you get cosy. 

One day, he came home to find you doing a performance with a spatula as your mic, paying his arrival no mind, an open invitation to join. He'd taken off his shoes and joined the stage, the neighbours weren't impressed. 

He likes coming home to you. He loves coming home to you. It's a foreign feeling after growing up in a house where his presence was dreaded. He would be late to come home to avoid staying there, now his reason to be late was entirely different.

On the rare occasion that he was the first one home, he'd be in the kitchen, looking to make anything you like. But he resorts to what he knows and makes some chocolate chip cookies, the most baking he's ever been successful at.

All these days, Sirius chalked up the overwhelming feeling in his heart as the change of pace in his life. How your presence has changed the meaning of certain things. That maybe he wants to fall asleep in your arms is because he's been starved of it. Maybe he wants to spoil you because he can, he wants to buy every one of his friends everything they desire. He wanted to call all of his friends angel, sweetheart, my love. But they were only ever uttered for you, but that was an (open) secret. Maybe he wants to run his hands through your hair because he was bored of his.

His reasons had stopped making sense after a while. 

Today was different. 

Today he couldn't find a reason for the want in his heart, the uncertainty of his hands, his flickering gaze to your lips.

Sirius had come home after a stroll on his bike. You weren't home, he thought, his usual reason. He knocked on the door, but it was already open. He felt odd, but entered the house, locking the door behind me. You were nowhere to be seen. Not on the couch, in the kitchen, or in the bedrooms. He called out for you and heard a muffled shout from the bathroom, “I'm in the shower. I'm done, actually."

He chuckled but sighed, relieved. He threw his keys on the living room table, which he realised he still held.

He pulled his hair back in a bun and took off his shoes and jacket.

He had changed into more comfortable clothes, the fatigue of the day setting in. Drying his face off the water still remaining as he entered the shared space, he stopped in his tracks.

You were drying your hair in a towel, flipping through channels with one hand. You wore light pink pyjamas, with watermelons printed on them, a simple light pink tee to match, green socks on your feet. 

Sirius had stopped as if you'd been dressed up to go to some gala, with your hair done in a glamorous dress. He would've stopped in his tracks then too. 

But he saw you like this, and his heart started beating erratically. His feet were forcing him forward but he kept them still, his hand still on his face. He'd like to feel the skin under your shirt, it might be cold or warm. To run his hands over your form, maybe tickle you with kisses on your neck, wrap your legs around him.

It all felt too overwhelming.

But this was all because he liked your new pyjamas, right? 

Right?

That's the stupidest excuse he had ever came up with.

Oh.

Oh no.

James was right.

This isn't very friendly, Sirius realised, and it hasn't been friendly for a long while. Nothing Sirius feels right now is friendly. His thoughts are too far gone to be friendly, he has to make an effort to stop them from escalating. 

He face-palmed, creating a ‘thump’ which caught your attention.

“Oh, hi." You smiled, nothing out of the usual.

Oh hell fucking no.

“You alright?" You ask, tilting your head which made him want to scream into his pillow.

He nodded, though he wasn't very aware of his actions.

“Are you sure? You've been standing there with your hand on your face and staring. I thought you became a statue.” You said laughingly, shooting him a mock suspicious look before turning towards the TV, again.

Sirius didn't take the hand off his face to hide his warm blushing skin, which had most definitely gotten red. How will he explain why he was red in the face while the water still hadn't dried off?

“New pyjamas?" He asks, his voice quieter than usual, monotonous.He felt if he spoke too loud he'd give it away, his voice would squeak. There's nothing to give away, shut up, you idiot, he debates.

Your face lit up and Sirius debated whether he loved that or hated it, because it was a stark reminder of what he's been in denial of.

“Yes! Do you like ‘em?" You ask, stretching a little part of your pants like it's a dress. I should be stretching those pants, he shakes off the thought. He doesn't even know what he means. 

“Yeah, they're cute." Sirius pauses, “Really cute." He tries to downplay it. you look so fucking cute it's driving me insane, he thinks, but he keeps that part to himself.

Your grin gets wider, if that's possible, “Thanks." You say shyly, little droplets falling off your hair, which made the back of your t-shirt wet. Sirius wanted to dry your hair off himself, you should just sit there, looking pretty. 

Sirius felt like this was it, this is where he dies. He's gonna stand there, and have a heart attack with how much he's panicking. 

A ringing sound broke his trance, he and you both realised it was your phone.

“Ugh, who's calling now?" You complain, before going to your room to talk.

Sirius walks himself to the couch and sits down, still reeling from the onslaught of emotions.

He bent down, elbows resting on his knees as he hid his face in his hands. 

Sirius had been in denial, coming up with nonsensical reasons to his thoughts. He had thrown away the stray thoughts of his mind, brushed off the fleeting thoughts of your lips on his, his on yours, your jaw, your hands. The feel of your hands running through his hair, the consistent want to be near you. He could never find a reason for them, so he just avoided them. 

He avoided them too often to his liking.

He laughed, at his own stupidity and possibly on how pathetic he was. All this time, he'd been avoiding his own reality, and it only took some watermelon themed pyjamas to bring him to his senses. It made sense, he realised. Why wouldn't he be in love with you?

James is going to have a field day with this.

Sirius Black was in love with you. This time he'd blame watermelons for the yearning in his chest. But he knows better now. 

[intheemptymirror]

touch up !

idol!mingi x stylist!reader

summary: mingi loves to push the boundaries of a proper idol-stylist work relationship. even in the work place itself.

genre: fluff

warnings: reader and mingi aren’t in a relationship but they very clearly like each other, probably unrealistic stylist/idol dynamics, reader is said to be close in age to ateez, reader is shorter than all of ateez (short enough that you have to look up at them), not proofread

a/n: based off that one video where the stylist is fixing mingi’s hair and he reaches his arm up slightly 😵‍💫 not super satisfied with this but f it WE BALL also stream ice on my teeth

comeback season. the most exciting yet tiring time of the year for everybody involved. the choreographers were creating new moves to make an interesting dance, the photographers were coming up with fun new concepts, the managers were jumping from place to place to make sure everything was going smoothly, and at the center of it all were ateez: the stars of the show. you were a part of the stylist team at KQ, here to make sure that no matter where ateez went or what they did, that they looked good doing it.

today was one of the established filming days for the music video, one of the most if not the most busy days when it comes to comeback preparations. the hustle and bustle of people running around and talking over each other in order to get the scene ready for filming would have been overwhelming to anyone else, but after being in this line of work for so long you had gotten used to it. you had currently been put in charge of seonghwa, standing in front of him as you sewed a few final gems into the elaborately decorated blazer he adorned. “y/n!” somebody had called your name from behind, making you pause your work as you looked over your shoulder to see one of your senior stylists trying to get your attention. “when you’re done with seonghwa go to mingi. he says he needs help.”

mingi. despite only being a behind the scenes member, you had grown fairly close to the eight boys— one more so than the others. the mere mention of his name made your heart race, and when you glanced in his direction to see that he was already staring at you, you felt like your heart was going to rip right out your chest. you willed yourself to act normal as you smiled and nodded to your senior in confirmation before turning back to attend to seonghwa. you barely manage to get the thread through the fabric to finish tying it off before you feel a pair of eyes burning into the top of your head, making you pause your movements and slowly look up to see seonghwa with a knowing smile on his face. you blink at him as he doesn’t blink at you before you stand up a bit straighter, looking side to side as you grow more self conscious under his gaze. “wha—what’s wrong? why are you looking at me like that?”

seonghwa pouts his lip and raises his brows as he shakes his head and shrugs. “nothing,” he says, but the glint in his eye and the teasing lilt in his voice tells you otherwise. you look him up and down and swallow harshly before distracting yourself by smoothing his clothes out. he glances over to mingi out of the corner of his eye, looking back down at you and nodding his head in the boys direction. “he’s waiting for you.” that gets your attention as your head snaps up and you turn to look over at mingi, who seems to be glaring at something. you follow his line of sight to where your palms are pressed flat against seonghwa’s chest before you— for a reason you’ve tried hard to ignore— flinch and yank your hands off of seonghwa in record time.

you wipe your hands on your jeans nervously as you glance between mingi and seonghwa, pausing on seonghwa when he raises his brow at you. you gape your mouth open and closed like a fish as you try to find some weak excuse to tell him before you huff and slump your shoulders. “shut up.” seonghwa lets out a laugh at your words before patting you on the shoulder, sparing mingi one last look as his hand makes contact with you. the way mingi clenches his fists into the fabric of his pants and his shoulders tense up doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“good luck with the princess.” is the last thing he says before walking off. you watch him leave for a second before remembering you have work to do and walking over to where mingi was waiting (not so) patiently for you. you notice mingi’s furrowed brows and hunched shoulders, making you offer a soft smile to him in hopes of silently soothing whatever he was worried about at that moment. it seemed to work as his eyes lit up and he straightened his back before offering a smile back as he stepped forward to meet you halfway.

you put away your small sewing kit into the pouch you had resting around your hips before looking up at the taller man. “you needed help?” you say, smiling and putting your hands on your hips before you pause and look him up and down. you take in his form: shirt fitted tightly to accentuate his torso, baggy pants for a cool vibe, makeup done to bring attention to his eyes, and not a single strand of hair out of place. you purse your lips in confusion as you furrow your brows at him, looking back up into his eyes. “you look fine to me though?” you chalked his strange demand for you up to nerves. you eye him a bit as you start to rummage around your bag. truthfully you weren’t looking for anything in particular, you just couldn’t take looking at his stupidly good looking face any longer.

mingi feels a slight sense of panic rise in his chest as he starts to think you’re leaving, not wanting your attention to be on anything (or anyone) but him. his hands fly up to his head to shuffle around in his hair, effectively messing up the meticulously crafted style. he reaches down and grips onto the hem of your shirt sleeve with the tips of his fingers, grabbing your attention and making your eyes follow the line of his fingers, up his arm, before finally landing on his face. well, his face and then his hair. you barely have any time to process the overwhelming feeling of him touching you so softly before the sight of a hairstyle that was not previously there sinks into your brain. your lips part in surprise and your brows furrow in confusion as your finger slowly drifts up to point at his messed up locks. your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, completely at a loss for words. “you—your… your hair…”

“what about my hair?” he glances side to side, as if completely oblivious to how he looks. it makes you feel like you’re losing your mind a bit.

“it—it wasn’t like that before,”

“yes it was.”

“no, it—“

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he pushes one final time before he offers you a toothy smile that seems to be a bit smug, as if he knows something you don’t or did something he wasn’t supposed to. “looks like you have to spend some time to fix it now,” he shrugs nonchalantly, completely unbothered by the extra time he had to stand to get ready compared to the other members.

you eye him warily before you huff out a small laugh through your nose as your shoulders relax in acceptance. you wave both your hands in a ‘come down’ gesture to tell mingi to crouch down a bit as you exasperatingly laugh at him. he obliges as he bends down at the waist so you can reach, his sharp eyes staring at you through his brows. “you’re ridiculous,” you shake your head, but the fond smile adorning your face contrasts your words. you avert eye contact to focus your attention on your job, your soft hands gently coming up to start rearranging his hair back to where it was before. mingi practically purrs at the feeling of your hands on him, his eyes fluttering shut as he unconsciously starts to press his head into your palms for more.

you smile adoringly at how at peace he looks before the smile is wiped off your face when you feel a light pressure shifting your bag around before the feeling brushes against your waist. your hands halt in his hair as you glance down only to be met with the sight of mingi’s hand hovering over your shirt. his blissful state seems to have left him empty headed seeing as he hadn’t registered that you stopped moving completely. you held your breath as your eyes were completely locked onto his hand, scared that even the smallest of breaths would disturb him in some way. his hand moves to press his palm flat against your waist before his hand curls to fist the fabric of your shirt in his hand. he lightly pulls at you, causing you to stumble a step or two forward, missing how mingi’s eyes snapped open at the movement.

he unfurled his palm to cup against your waist once more as he rubbed his thumb back and forth soothingly, his eyes trained on your face to gauge your reaction. the slight reddening of your ears made a ghost of a smirk grow on his face. you felt your breathing pick up and your lashes flutter at the feeling before you will yourself to rip your eyes away from the scene. you expect to be able to just go back to working on mingi as if nothing happened, but are caught completely off guard when your eyes meet his. you study each others faces in silence. neither of you pull your hands off of each other; you can’t bring yourself to.

you watch as his eyes trail down to your lips before looking back up at you with his captivating gaze. it makes you swallow harshly and you can feel a light heat start to burn under the skin of your cheeks. you think you’re starting to see things when mingi starts to shift closer to you, his face just mere inches away from yours, so close that if you moved then your noses would touch, so close that just maybe he would kiss— “mingi!” but you don’t have a chance to think about it before a loud voice shouts for the man. you both jump at the sudden call, taking a step back to put some distance between you. mingi grits his teeth and straightens up while you seem to hunch in on yourself, your attention now taken by the floor.

you glance over to the source of the voice to be met with wooyoung’s figure jogging over. he wraps his arm around mingi’s shoulders and nudges into his side. “director says you’re up,” he shakes mingi’s shoulders before turning to you. “hey, y/n!”

“hi, wooyoung,” you huff out a small laugh and shake your head; you find it really hard to be mad at him when he’s smiling so brightly at you. “i’m done with mingi, so he’s all yours now.” you say as you gesture him off to go to the shoot. wooyoung moves behind mingi and slaps him on the shoulders, gripping onto them to guide him over to where the director and camera crew was waiting. you offer a small wave goodbye as wooyoung shouts a ‘thank you, y/n!’ behind him as the two boys walk away. you miss the longing look mingi sends you over his shoulder before turning his attention back to wooyoung.

for the rest of the day, you distract yourself from thinking too long by keeping yourself busy. but later— when you’re sure no one is looking at you— you let yourself dwell on what could’ve been. despite the missed opportunity, you can’t control a small, hopeful smile from growing on your lips.

maybe next time.

[mikamii25]

hello! I was wondering if you could do twst house wardens x reader who can make the wardens flustered easily? Thank you and I hope you have an amazing day (or night)! :D

ok so, for this, it’s gonna be reader who is very flirty! Hope that’s ok!

TWST house wardens with a reader who is very flirty!

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Riddle would be very annoyed at first, but he’d eventually accept his fate and secretly like it. his crush on you would multiply instantly! he just prays that you don’t embarrass or tease him in front of his students or other house wardens. If you do.. then it’s off with your pretty head! He’ll definitely scold you for you inappropriate behavior in front of other people, but in private? Oh, that’s another story!

Leona honestly wouldn’t care he’d be amused and flirt back. other than that though, it wouldn’t phase him that much but in private oh he’d secretly be a huge mess he wouldn’t dare to show how he feels about you to anyone! Ruggie probably already knows, though he sure does mumble a lot about you in his sleep and Surprisingly dreams about you

Azul wouldn’t be able to handle your constant compliments and flirty comments. gosh, and you already know that Jade and Floyd would just add to it by teasing him even more, but he really does appreciate your compliments towards him. It makes him feel better about himself and a little bit less insecure. Now he sure that you definitely like him back. Hopefully!

Kalim doesn’t mind at all in fact he loves it but he’s not sure if you really like him how he likes you. Hmm… What is he even talking about? Of course you like him like that! how could you not? He would give you anything that you asked for!!overall he loves your flirtatious comments. it gives him butterflies all the time! He just knows that you like him like that! 1000%

Vil should be used to comments like that, but for some reason, he can’t help but blush whenever you talk to him like that! his face just heats up the second you talk all flirty!! The thing is, he can’t risk other people knowing about his little big crush on you, especially the media at least not yet. oh, and of course Rook already knows about his feelings towards you. He knows everything lol!

Idia would fold IMMEDIATELY!! he’d literally turned beet red the second you speak to him like that! God, you’re just making his heart race even more when he’s around you! just another reason to like you, but it would also make him even more shy around you, so ortho would have to put in way more efforts to get him to interact with you. Idia really likes you, but can’t seem to show it without being an absolute mess!

Malleus doesn’t quite understand the concept of flirting, but once he asks Lilia, expect him to definitely try and flirt back. it may be cheesy, but at least he tries!! It makes him feel all fuzzy inside when you speak to him like that, but he doesn’t quite know why. all he knows is that you are his soulmate, and the two of you are meant to be together, forever. He loves you so much, so you better not break his sweet little heart!!!

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Hope you like this!! 🌷

[revelboo]

Oml the cliffhanger on metroplex. Big guy needs more love in his life.

I absolutely love your work on these stories you got cooking here. Each and every one of them have so many characteristics to them. Can't wait for your next work. 🤗💖💖💖

Thank you!

18+ 🌶️

I Can Feel You Pt 6- extended cut

Metroplex x Reader

Monitoring as you step into the labyrinth that makes up his interior, for a moment you hesitate. Looking back up at the light streaming down from above like you want to go back. He knows he could close that exit to you, force you to continue on. Would you resent him then? If he takes away your choice? Little hands twisting together as you stare up toward that light, he knows he can't take that away from you. Needs you to choose him. And finally you take a shuddering breath and square your shoulders. "Okay," you whisper, eyes wide as you look around. "Okay. Show me, big guy."

Slowly he begins flaring his biolights, feeling the strain of redirecting energy where he needs it to give you direction. It's slow going when you're so small. Turning again and again, following the pulses of light. Trusting him to guide you and occasionally reaching out to brush your fingers against him almost absently. Those little touches helping focus him, because if he's wrong, if he's not careful, he'll burn through too much energy and be forced into recharge again. That unease twists through him as you follow, because he's not sure you'd be able to find your way back out. You're so little, so easy to overlook. How long would it be until the Autobots above miss you? Before you slowly starve to death wandering around inside him? That fear is a living thing, urging him to turn you back around. Let you go.

Just once, though. He wants to speak to you at least once. More than your stilted conversations as precious to him as they are. Wants to feel you reach out and be able to touch you in return. "I didn't realize all this was down here," you whisper, brushing against a cable. "It's like a whole other city." Except its only him here and now you.

You don't complain as he leads you, but as time passes, you are slowing. Shoulder and wrist bumping a wall as you turn a corner. Time is a hard concept for him, but it's different for you. You'd have taken a rest interval by now, right? He's not sure, but as you stumble guilt sets in. Knowing you're exhausted, but you're so close. Please, just a little further. "Metroplex? I think I'm done," you say, leaning your head against him. "Is it much further?"

Pulsing warm light, he waits, and you reluctantly push away from his walls to keep going. Knows you're tired and he's asking much more than he has a right to. But just this once, he wants to wrap his arms around your little frame. Needs you to understand how precious you are to him.

Exhaustion pulls at you as you scrub a hand over your eyes, your head pounding. It feels like you've been walking forever, trusting that there's a reason you're down here. It must be night by now or early morning. There's no way to know down here in his labyrinthine interior. He's seen you eat and must know you'll need to soon. Should already have. You keep your eyes on those warm, comforting lights of his, not on the empty shadows beyond. If not for the low hum of his spark vibrating under your feet, you'd think you were alone. Abandoned. Know you're inside him and there's nothing to fear, but panic is just there under the surface. Screaming at you to turn and run back the way you'd come. That this is a tomb, maybe yours.

And then light, warm and beckoning. Leaving the tunnel you were in to enter an open space limned in warm light along the walls, pulsing slowly as they run upward with a low thrumming you feel in your bones. Breath catching as you tip your head up to find his spark. It's a shocking thing to see, knowing it’s everything. It’s him.His life force pulsing and glowing above you, little arcs of energy trailing through the air around it.

"Metroplex? This is your spark, right?" The part of a Cybertronian they protect and keep hidden, and he's shared his with you. It feels like trespassing on something private as your eyes drop. Like this isn't something meant for you to see.

Directly under it is something almost like a closed metal flower, pulsing with that same energy. And along the ground, his biolights pulse. Slow, deliberate flares that draw you forward. As you approach, that strange structure opens, metal petals unfurling slowly as thick cables unravel from around it. "You wanted me to see this?" You ask, because of course he had. That thing that's not at all a flower is pulsing slowly like his spark, that light almost hypnotic. One of those cables brushes your ankle and twines about it as you approach and reach out. Fingers brushing him and feeling energy arc through you, shattering you.

That contact jolts through you as everything falls away and you’re left in a space limned in the warm pulse of his spark, surrounded by him. You can feel him in a way you never have before as you try to figure out if the space you’re in is small or infinite. And if touching whatever that was just killed you, because it’s so hard to focus here. You feel like you’re drifting and just want to sleep.

So hard to focus. That’s not your thought, is it? It feels like yours, but there’s a faint dissonance. Ground me, little one.

“Metroplex?” You whisper, reaching out and a figure materializes in front of you, bigger than you but not as massive as the Autobots are. Ghostly and insubstantial until his servos touch your fingertips and he solidifies some. You’ve never seen his bot form, but you know this is him. Metroplex. Warmth spilling through you as he offers you a big hand and you lay your palm in his.

“Touch me,” he says, the words a deep rumble, a plea as his servos curl around your hand.

Because he becomes more real where you touch him. Encouraging you to reach for him, hand lifting to cautiously cup his jaw. And his other arm curls around you and draws you near, feeling solid against you. The warmth of him, the thrum of his spark against you all so real. “Hi,” you whisper against him.

“You saw me,” he says, chin on top of your head, that deep voice so grateful it hurts you. Like acknowledging him, speaking to him is unthinkable. “Woke me.”

It breaks you wide open, that wonder in his voice over something so simple. Thinking about how he takes care of you, watches over you, has tried so hard to reach out. “I’m here. I’ve got you,” you whisper, reaching for him, cupping his helm in your hands and pulling him down. Because you understand that loneliness, of being unseen. Knowing you’re so much smaller than even the smallest Autobot, that you’re easy to overlook. To forget. And among them you feel alone, alien and unseen. His mouth is warm when you go up on tiptoes to kiss him. And he rushes into you, tangling what you feel with what he feels.

Knowing that he won’t be able to maintain this for long, but he’d wanted to tell you how much he appreciates you speaking to him so he doesn’t drift away from reality completely. All those little touches, the sound of your voice and your stories, you’ve held him together. Giving him something to focus on. A sense of self after so long.

You can’t separate yourself from him as his mouth slides against yours. Can’t tell if the need and heat are yours or his. But knowing that you see him and that you want to wrap yourself around him, protect him against that fear of being forgotten. Of losing what little of himself is left. Dying alone and forgotten.

Not sure how much of this is real, it feels like it is as he drags you against him. The kiss becoming something desperate, needing to show him he’s still alive. To feel him hold you, touch you. Big servos on your hips, lifting you as you wrap yourself around him. You feel the head of his spike slide against you. Sex and need and fear of being forgotten, left behind, all jangling through you. His thoughts, your thoughts. There’s no separating them as he pulls you down, the hard length of his spike sliding deep to stretch you.

Those big hands on your hips, moving you against him as your mouth brushes the corner of his mouth, hearing him venting raggedly against you. “I see you,” you moan, clinging to him.

“I feel you,” he whispers, against you. “I have you.”

You know it’s true as he keeps moving against you, his spike stroking deep again and again. You’re safe and sheltered here in his arms. He’s been watching over you all along, reaching out but unable to say a word. When he pushes you over that edge and you fist his spike, your climax is a gentle warmth spreading through you. Feeling him rock himself against you, groaning with his own release, helm resting against your forehead as those optics seem to devour you. Because he does see you, he’s seen you all along.

Previous

[dissapointu]

“More to Love”

How each of the main Arcane characters treats you as a chubby partner, supports you through insecurities, and makes you feel completely loved:

Jinx

Jinx is immediately drawn to your softness, both inside and out. She’s not one to care about societal norms or what people say about appearances, and she makes that very clear.

“Who cares what they think?” she says, draping herself across you like a cat. “You’re perfect just the way you are. Besides, all this?”—she squeezes your side playfully—“makes you the best cuddle buddy ever.”

Jinx can sense when you’re feeling insecure, even if you don’t say it out loud. She’ll do anything to cheer you up: crack jokes, pull you into impromptu dance sessions, or draw silly caricatures of people who make you feel less-than.

When she notices you being hard on yourself, she’ll sit you down and make you look her in the eyes. “You’re mine, okay? I don’t want anyone else, so stop thinking you’re not good enough for me. You’re more than enough.” Her words may be blunt, but the sincerity in her voice is undeniable.

She loves running her fingers along your curves, tracing patterns absentmindedly while cuddling. “You’re like a human marshmallow,” she says with a grin. “Sweet, soft, and impossible not to love.”

Vi

Vi is fiercely protective of you, and your insecurities are no exception. She’s always the first to notice when you’re down on yourself and refuses to let those thoughts win.

“Hey,” she says firmly, gently tipping your chin up to meet her eyes. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. I love every inch of you—every single inch. Got it?”

She’s all about actions, too. If someone makes a rude comment about your weight, they’re likely to get a very stern talking-to (or worse) from her. “No one messes with my girl,” she’ll growl, wrapping an arm around you protectively.

Vi also has a way of making you feel like the most beautiful person in the world without even trying. Whether she’s pulling you into her lap, complimenting the way your clothes fit, or leaving kisses along your jawline, she never misses an opportunity to show you how much she loves you.

“More of you to love,” she says with a cheeky grin, kissing your cheek. “Lucky me.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s love for you is steadfast and unwavering. She’s always been someone who values a person’s heart and character above all else, and she makes sure you know that.

“Darling, your worth isn’t tied to your size,” she tells you gently, holding your hands in hers. “You’re beautiful to me in every way that matters.”

Caitlyn is incredibly supportive when it comes to helping you feel confident. She loves taking you shopping for clothes that make you feel amazing, offering compliments that never feel forced. “That color looks stunning on you,” she’ll say with a smile, her eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.

When insecurities creep in, Caitlyn is patient and understanding. She’ll sit with you, listen to your concerns, and remind you of all the reasons she fell in love with you. “You’re my everything,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And nothing will ever change that.”

Ekko

Ekko is all about making you feel like a rockstar. He loves hyping you up, whether it’s complimenting your smile, your laugh, or the way you light up a room just by being in it.

“Do you even realize how incredible you are?” he asks, spinning you around playfully. “Because if not, I’ll remind you every single day.”

He’s quick to shut down any negative thoughts you have about yourself. “You’re so much more than what you see in the mirror,” he says, pulling you into a hug. “You’ve got this light, you know? And I’m the luckiest guy in the world to be near it.”

Ekko’s favorite thing is dancing with you, holding you close and spinning you around like you’re the star of your own music video. He loves how free and alive you look when you let go of your insecurities, and he’ll do anything to make you feel that way more often.

Silco

Silco may not be the most openly affectionate partner, but his devotion to you is undeniable. He values your intelligence, your loyalty, and your kindness above all else, and he makes sure you know it.

“You underestimate yourself,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “You see flaws where I see strength. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, diminish your worth.”

When you express insecurities, Silco listens intently, his gaze sharp and focused. He doesn’t offer empty platitudes but instead reminds you of the qualities that make you unique. “You’ve faced so much, and yet you stand tall. That’s what I admire most about you.”

Though he’s not one for public displays of affection, Silco shows his love through small, meaningful gestures: a hand on your back, a kiss on your temple, or the way he always makes time for you, no matter how busy he is.

“You’re mine,” he says simply, his voice low and steady. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Vander

Vander is a comforting presence, always making you feel safe and cherished. His love is warm and steady, like the foundation of a home.

“You’ve got nothing to be insecure about,” he says, pulling you into a bear hug. “You’re perfect to me, just the way you are.”

Vander has a way of making you feel loved through his actions. He’ll cook your favorite meals, leave little notes of encouragement, and hold you close whenever you need reassurance. “You’ve got a heart bigger than anyone I’ve ever met,” he tells you, his voice full of pride. “And that’s what matters.”

When you’re feeling down, Vander’s the first to remind you of your worth. “The world’s tough enough without you being hard on yourself,” he says gently. “Let me worry about keeping you safe, and you just focus on being the amazing person you already are.”

All of these characters love you for who you are, making it clear that your worth goes far beyond appearances. Whether it’s through words, actions, or unwavering support, they remind you every day just how loved and cherished you are.

[aikoiya]

Exactly! My preferred avenue!

Even better if you treat Maddie & Jack as individuals with their own personal experiences, traumas, & biases regarding ghosts & their reasoning behind their views.

For me, I tend to hc Jack as being the one who would be quickest to change his beliefs & that Maddie would take longer.

Yes, Jack's egotistical, but I see him as being he's egotistical in a very similar way to how Papyrus from Undertale is also egotistical. In that, he holds himself in high regard & sees himself as great, but he also sees those he loves & cares for in the same way.

Meanwhile, I see Maddie as much more stubborn & biased in her beliefs, but this is partially due to the Flynn Walker thing.

Flynn Walker being a reimagining of Flynn Fenton from the Butch Hartman pictures where Jack & Maddie had another son named Flynn, who was kidnapped by ghosts as a kid. In this re-imagining, Flynn is instead Jack & Maddie's nephew & son of Alicia Walker & her now ex-husband. They'd been visiting the Fentons at the time & Jack was supposed to be watching the kids while Maddie, Alicia, & her husband were out getting something.

But, when Jack wasn't paying attention, Flynn was stolen away by ghosts who took him into the Ghost Zone through the still unfinished portal.

Naturally, Alicia blamed Jack, which is why she hates him in the show. This was also the event that would put strain on Alicia & her husband's relationship until they divorced.

I tend to hc that this plus other traumatizing experiences as a child would cause Maddie to have a bigger grudge against ghosts than Jack. In other words, I see her as a tragic bigot. A bigot as a result of past trauma regarding the subject in question.

I think that she'd initially be very resistant & stubborn about this, but if given imperical proof that Danny Phantom was Danny Fenton, that they were not separate entities, that he wasn't possessed... then she would reluctantly believe it, but it would also cause her world to sort of go topsy-tervy inside her own head until she could rationalize her own mental dissonance.

In my mind, one way to go about such would be for her to use the Fenton Ghost Catcher on him, then immediately uses the Thermos on Phantom.

Now, obviously, Fenton would want Phantom back, but Maddie would essentially say that it was for his own good before hiding the Thermos away.

... But I honestly don't think that this is something sustainable. Because, as we see in the show, they aren't just separated physically. It also affects both halves' personalities.

Also, keep in mind that we don't ever see them at 2 separate individuals for longer than that one episode.

So, it's entirely possible that their health might begin to deteriorate the longer they are 2. And, eventually, both may even die completely without the other.

Think the end of Steven Universe where his Gem is removed from him.

Something like that, but slower.

And, because of this, I also think that Fenton would likely be missing a bunch of biologically necessary components or that they would be unstable now due to how very integrated ectoplasm was into his DNA. Remember, "hiw molecules got all rearranged."

So, I imagine that everything else in him all the way down to his molecular makeup was likely altered, too.

And, it would likely get to the point where Maddie & Jack had to examine him to understand just... why? Possibly even thinking that maybe there was still ectoplasm left that, without Phantom there to control it, was poisoning their boy.

But they would find that he was back down to normal levels of ectocontamination for an Amity Parker which shouldn't have any affect on him at all.

So why was he deteriorating?

And the pressure & worry & fear for his life would begin to mount until Jazz & Danny's friends put on a heist to free Phantom.

Like, maybe they get one of Danny's ghost allies to distract the Fentons by making them think that they were going to hurt Danny & while they were distracted with protecting their son, the Team would actually save him.

Only to find that Phantom... wasn't doing okay...

Like... imagine Dani & the other clones. He's destabilizing, but... like... it's more like he's fading & evaporating & falling apart at once... Like he's losing cohesion...

Almost seeming to dissolve into mist before reconstituting himself. They can barely touch him & he's so very quiet. He looks like a gaunt Victorian child stricken with the plague. Not to mention his hollow cheeks making him look like he hasn't eaten in years & the dark circles under his exhausted eyes.

So, Sam, in a fit of brilliance, gets the Fenton Fishing Pole & ties the line around Phantom's waist to pull him towards Fenton.

But as they get close, Jack & Maddie return to see... They've never really seen anything like this before.

There are angry questions & fearful attempts to protect, but then Danny... he whispers, "Mom..." & then Phantom looks up, his eyes beginning to lose their glow, fading like to reveal a hauntingly familiar, but now clouded over, empty & faded blue. And he finishes, "...I'm scared..." The echo in his voice, now gone, leaving him to sound exactly like their son. And at that moment, the Danny in the bed let out one final sigh & goes completely still...

And, that was when the ghostly glow that Phantom normally had also began to blink out of existence to show raven hair & a now horrifyingly familiar white hazmat suit with black accents, the left arm fried to a crisp. The... phantom? Lifts the arm tiredly to look at his hand in confusion. Revealing a burning circle in the center of his palm with the word 'ON' underneath it as though seared into his flesh. As though only mildly surprised, he gives a quiet, breathy, "Oh..." before starting to fall forward slowly as his form faded away like a puff of smoke dissipating in the wind to leave a glowing orb to tink against the ground with a sound not unlike that of a glass wind chime.

It's glow seemed to flicker & fade.

Shaking with wide-eyes, they all turn to look at the Danny in the bed, Maddie surging forward to try & shake him awake, before reaching up shakily to feel for a pulse...

...

..

.

... "Nothing..." She whispered in shock & horror, quiet tears coming to her stricken eyes.

That was when Jack gently, but insistently pushed Maddie out of the way & began to perform CPR on his son. "Come on..." He pushed down on his chest, eyes shiny with tears.

The kids were... they were panicking! Sam was hyperventilating as she clutched the orb in her hands, holding it to her chest protectively as she mumbled, desperately that it was still flickering so he had to still be there while Tucker was frantically searching his PDA on how to restart a person's heart without a defibrillator & Jazz seemed to be going over ways to get the "his Core" back inside him at a frenzied pace, her eyes darting around wildly as though literally seeing the options in front of her before dismissing one after the other.

The world around her began to darken & close in around Maddie as her reality narrowed down to this singular point in time.

What did they do? What did they DO!?

She trembled, frozen as she too began to hyperventilate.

Jack's voice was getting frantic. "Come one! You're a Fenton, Dann-o! You're... You're a hero! You can do anything!"

Tucker began chattering about how if they could restart his heart within the next 10 minutes, they might be able to push Danny & his Core through the Merge side of the Ghost Catcher to put them back together!

That was when Jack stood up straight, looked at Maddie, & realizing what was happening, something shifted in him as he grabbed her upper arms & got up close to look her dead in the eye. "Mads, look at me. Dann-o needs us. I'm gonna go juryrig a pair of d-fibs, but I need you to keep doing CPR or we might lose him for good." He was strangely calm & gentle, but firm & insistent.

At his words, Maddie's eyes seemed to focus again, shifting to look at him & take in his words before, with a shaky breath, she nodded, brows furrowed as those steal nerves of hers snapped back into place.

With that, Jack gave a slightly cracked thousand watt smile before telling the kids to get a few things as he rand to get his tools.

In the end, they manage to get Danny's heart started & his lungs pumping again, but it was weak & halting.

And, almost in response to his renewed life, the orb's glow became stronger, but was still weak & flickered like a candle close to going out.

The kids began to urge them to have put Danny & the "Core" through the Ghost Catcher, but she was still resistant. So, Sam snapped, telling the Fenton woman to look for herself as she marched up to Danny with the orb & held it close to him.

Maddie & Jack jerked forward to try & stop her, but Jazz yelled at them to look at Danny.

... And they did... & he suddenly... looked so much healthier & the orb was glowing brighter & more steady in it's rhythm. More like, "A heartbeat?" Maddie asked in slight awe at how it seemed to pulse in perfect sync with the beeping of Danny's heart on the monitor.

"They're 2 pieces of the same whole. They can't survive without the other."

So, Jack picked his son up & yelled to get to the Ghost Catcher as he booked it. They all rushed down, Maddie looking to Jazz & asking if she was sure that this would work, who responded with, "what else can we do?"

Anyway, they turn on the Ghost Catcher & Sam places the orb in the fold of Danny's arms. Then, with a hesitant look at his wife who just wanted her baby back, Jack pushed his son through the Merge side where Danny was caught by Maddie.

The orb gone & Danny with a much healthier color to him & his breathing now deeper, though still unconscious & very weak & sickly looking.

...

Sorry, when I see a really good idea, sometimes I just can't stop myself.

But yeah, I definitely think there'd be a degree of "you're the exception because you're half human & not dead" to Maddie's behavior afterwards if not both.

Though, I also think that once he knew that Danny was alright, Jack would go back to his old self & would very excitedly begin to brainstorm inventions to help his son to fight & catch ghost better.

Though, I also think that it'd take a lot of adjusting as I see Jack tending to start talking about experimenting on ghosts only to then add Danny & go, "Oooh... sorry Dann-o..."

i get why so many fics have either good reveal or bad reveal for the fenton parents, but consider: the infinite expanse of "its complicated"

they see danny as an exception (because he isnt really a ghost!)

they believe him but disregard what that means for him, supportive in theory but not in practice (sure he is a half-ghost, but why does he have to [insert ghostly thing here]?)

they dont believe that he is a ghost but do believe that something happened and want to help, however the way they try to help is questionable. (if danny was suffering from delusions [he isnt], they would be playing into them. they [think] they know it isnt real, but believe that indulging him is better than any other option)

they believe him and support him, but that doesnt change that they are bad parents regardless and therefore neglect their children. if asked they have completly changed their view on ghosts, but now they have so much more to study and are around even less as a result. maybe they only interact with their children for research purposes.

or they dont belive or support him, but do their best to be attentive and loving parents. maybe they have convinced themselves of a different explanation (the fanon liminal lore perhaps). while they protect and love danny, they disregard what he says and undermine his experiences.

thats just some situations i could think of right now.

[nagaytoe]

Got a req! Howlw about some angst? What would happen after the bad end?

Evanescent

(Adj.) Soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing

Solivan Brugmansia X Reader

TWs: Murder, attempted murder, weapons, just a lot of death in general, loss of loved one, shifting blame, like one mention of necrophilia

Word count: 2.3k

I am currently cooking up 3 more scenarios of what could've happened after the bad end on day 2 but this is the first one that's actually finished (there were just too many ideas popping into my head so ofc i have to write for all of them lmao)

Requests: open

Disclaimer: i tried my best to proof-read it and tried using they/them pronouns but when i first wrote it i used she/her, i just hope i got all of 'em lol

Also, apparently 'whose' can also be used for objects as well and not just for people??? Sounds wrong to me but if the internet says it's right then lets hope its right haha

SPOILERS FOR DAY 2 OF THE KID AT THE BACK

Sol was inconsolable, his face buried in your neck, tears staining your shirt. His arms were wrapped around you but you didn’t reciprocate the gesture. How could you anyways? You were dead. Stabbed by Sol's only friend, Hyugo, who was currently cleaning up the gory scene.

---------------------------------------------------

Just a few moments ago you stumbled upon a horrifying view: Your friend, best friend, and your first love, Jericho Ichabod, laid on the dirty ground of a shed whose door you just broke down, his head barely attached to the neck.

Your knees gave in beneath you as soon as you gazed upon Crowe, grabbing his body, shaking it and willing him to wake up again. How could this happen? He was well liked, nice to everyone he met, who would think about taking his life? You barely registered footsteps behind you because of how loud you were sobbing, but the clanking of metal on the ground didn't slip past you. Turning around, your eyes are met with the sight of someone you didn't expect. You expected a gang leader, a thug, everyone but the one who actually stood in front of you.

Solivan Brugmansia

Just yesterday you befriended the seemingly timid boy and now he was soaked in blood, his red eyes wide as your gazes met.

“[____]...?” Tears of his own started to well up in his eyes which currently roamed over your hunched figure.

“What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here, you need to leave!” By the end of his sentence he was yelling, tears streaming down his face.

Truly a miserable, pathetic sight.

“You killed him, you killed Crowe, didn't you?” Anger was bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. On the inside you were praying to whatever god was watching from heaven above, if there even was one to begin with, that all this was nothing more than a bad dream, hoping insistently to wake up. However, this was a nightmare you were not permitted to ever wake up from.

“I only did what I should've done years ago.” His words caused you to huff in disbelief, “You're not even gonna deny it, huh?”

“I would never lie to you, [____]” Was he fucking serious? He just killed someone, but at least he's not a liar? What the hell was wrong with him?! You were enraged, he had no reason to kill Crowe, to play god by ending his life and taking your love from you.

“Why? Why did you kill him?!”

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU AND HE TRIED TO TAKE YOU AWAY FROM ME! I COULDN'T SIT BY AND LET THAT HAPPEN… YOU'RE MINE! MINE ALONE!” he finally snapped, showing his true colors. Was everything he showed you before just a facade? It had to be.

The words he just spoke left a disgusting taste in your mouth. Love? Love?! How dare he use this sweet word in such a disgusting fashion? How dare he taint it in order to justify his vile actions? It made you sick to your stomach and you were blinded by rage as you lunged at him.

“YOU MONSTER!”

You unbuckled the strap of his choker and pulled on it, strangling him in the process.

“YOU LOVE ME?! I LOVED HIM! HE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME! MY BEST FRIEND, MY FIRST LOVE, MY SAVIOR! YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME, I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU! DON'T YOU DARE IMAGINE YOU KNOW ME IN THE SLIGHTEST! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!”

Sol was clawing at your wrists by now, but it was no use, every action of his seemed slow and heavy, as if it took a lot of effort, almost as if he was paralyzed.

His hands fell to the side and just as you thought you managed to avenge your love something sharp pierced through your chest.

--

Here you were, taking your last breaths in the arms of the person you despise most.

“[____], please… please stay with me… don't leave me [____]...” his pleas were a stark contrast to what he is screaming at the person who stabbed you.

“HOW COULD YOU!? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”

Then he went back to sobbing into your shoulder. He seemed completely out of it, switching between grief and anger every other second.

You couldn't seem to make out the words your killer was saying, everything they said was incoherent, except for the last two words:

“No witnesses.”

---------------------------------------------------

“What do you plan on doing? Hold them until they start rotting?”

Hyugo was standing in front of Sol, who was still sitting on the ground, sobbing and cradling you in his arms. After he managed to clean up the scene, the only thing left to do was the disposal of your corpse.

“Just kill me alongside them.” Sols voice was quiet, barely above a whisper and it was strained from crying and screaming so much. It hurt Hyugo to see his best friend like that.

“You know very well I can't do that.”

“YOU WERE ABLE TO KILL THEM THOUGH! I JUST GOT THEM BACK AND YOU TOOK THEM FROM ME!”

Hyugo couldn't hold back his anger anymore. How could Sol still fail to see that this would've never worked out either way?

“THEY TRIED TO KILL YOU!”

Hyugo sighed deeply in an effort to calm himself before continuing, “Even if I had only knocked them out, do you think they would’ve forgiven you for killing Crowe-”

“Don't you dare bring up that bastards name. All of this is his fault anyways. If it hadn't been for him… me and my sweet [____] would still be together now…”

Sols voice was laced with venom as he gripped your body tighter. You have stopped breathing by now, the color has long drained from your face and the warmth of your skin has vanished. All that was left was an empty shell of who you once were.

Just yesterday, you were breathing, talking, laughing. Now? Now you will never be able to do any such thing again.

“It was you or them, Sol. I need you to understand that. Do you truly believe they could've loved you back after finding out you killed someone? Do you think the two of you would have lived happily ever after?” The blue haired man was trying his best to reason with his best friend, but to no avail.

“We could've made it work, I know that we would have… We were destined to be together, there wouldn't have been any other way…Maybe I should just keep them…”

“Sol.” Hyugo put his hand on the taller males shoulder, who was still sitting on the sheds ground. “We need to bury them.”

Sol seemed to be pondering for a moment, the hold he had on your body relentless.

“I can't… I can't let them go. They're gonna be really scared if we bury them and leave them in the darkness forever…”

“Sol, I'll repeat myself one last time. We need to bury them. What else are we supposed to do with their body? Keep it?” Hyugo put his hands on his hips, his patience wearing thin.

“I see no reason to not keep it…” the males words were muttered, but his friend was still able to hear them.

“You can't be serious! Do you know what happens to a body when it decays? They'll have 2 weeks at best before there's nothing left of them, except for the bones.”

Sol knew his friend was right, but how was he supposed to let go of you?

“They deserve a gravestone… a funeral… they deserve a memorial and not to be buried in the woods like some dead animal…”

Hyugo sighed. He knew that there is pretty much nothing he could do right now to convince Sol to do the right thing, he will keep arguing until he gets his way.

“What's your plan?”

Sol considered his options for a few moments before responding,

“Let's call the cops, make it look like an accident or shift the blame onto someone else”

Hyugo scoffed, “And what do you plan to tell them? We don't exactly have an alibi and there aren't that many families with Katanas either, you know? The only other family I can think of right now is Subarus.”

Red eyes met Hyugos teal ones, it's obvious an idea struck Sol. “That's right…”

Hyugo immediately cut Sol off before the latter could finish his sentence.

“Absolutely not! I will not drag my brothers family into this.”

“He doesn't even like you!” Sol retorted.

The shorter males eyes grew wide for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure.

“You know what? Do whatever you want. Keep their body like some necrophilie if that's what you desire.” Turning on his heel, Hyugo began walking off. He already took care of everything necessary, cleaning the scene and disposing of the weapons alongside Crowes body. He was not in the mood to argue with someone whose judgment was clouded and wouldn't even listen to him in the first place.

Sols rage grew stronger by the minute. How dared he? Hyugo killed his one and only soulmate in cold blood, like they were nothing and now he walked off just like that? No… No, he won't. Sol won't let that happen. He couldn't let him disrespect you like that. Carefully lowering your body to the ground and standing up, just as Hyugo walked out of the cabin, Sol quickly lunged at the shorter, unsuspecting male.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Hyugo might be good with weapons but he wasn't all that strong physically.

Well, at least he was weaker than Sol. Since Hyugo buried his katana alongside any other evidence all he can fight with were his bare hands.

“SOL, GET OFF OF ME!”

Sols hands wrapped themselves around Hyugos throat, just like yours were wrapped around his not even half an hour ago. Pressing his friend's head into the dirt ground, Sol is blinded by rage. Hyugo clawed at the taller males wrists, kicking him but Sols grip won't loosen. Letting go of the hands that were wrapped around his throat, Hyugo felt the dirt ground around him for something he can potentially defend himself with and sure enough - he managed to grab ahold of a rock, swiftly smashing it against the side of Sols head.

The taller male staggered and collapsed on the floor next to Hyugo, who hit the exact right spot to knock someone out.

Hyugo stood up, dusting off his clothes and sighing. What a mess. He knew that he needed to get rid of the body, even if it'll drive Sol further into madness.

So that's what he did. He buried [____]s body deep in the forest before sitting down by Sol's side, waiting for him to wake up.

—————————

Sol didn't attempt to kill Hyugo again after the first time, though part of the reason might be the ax Hyugo found in the shed and kept on him afterwards for self-protection. Either way, Sol acted like Hyugo didn't exist. To him he was dead anyways.

He tried his best, tried to go to school but the next days there were hell. People talked, gossiped, conspired as to what could've happened to [____] and Crowe. Were they kidnapped by the mafia? Did they commit suicide together? Did they run away together? Did they join a cult? People made up all kinds of stories in order to make sense of the situation, but only Sol and Hyugo were the ones who knew the truth.

After a few days, Sol stopped going to school. He couldn't handle it any longer.

Every time he sat in his classes he would draw you, instead of paying attention to what the teacher was saying.

Every time he sat in art class he was met with the sight of your unoccupied seat.

Every time lunch break rolled around he would go to the library where the two of you met and sit down in the seat he sat in on that day.

After school he would go to your apartment complex and break into your apartment to lay down on your bed, hugging your sheets and pillows, pretending they were you.

Hyugo never told Sol where he had buried you, too anxious about what Sol might do were he to know where you've been buried.

Not even a week passed before Sol decided what he had to do next.

On monday, almost a whole week after your death, Sol went back to school. The place where he first saw you, where he fell for you and in whose proximity you had died. Though, instead of attending class, he walked up the stairs to the school roof. The cool november breeze brushed over his face, twirling his hair and swaying single strands from side to side.

He climbed over the fence, briefly sitting down on it.

There was no further purpose in living, that, he was sure of. He lost his only purpose and what meaning does life have if it has to be spent without you, his darling?

All he could do was atone for his sins.

His mind is occupied with memories of you as he leapt forwards, clutching his fist to his chest where his heart resided.

“See you soon, pumpkin.”

Everything went dark as his body met the ground. There was no pain, there was no afterthought. All that's there is nothingness.

Of course, to the people now surrounding his body there was a gruesome scene, perhaps they would prefer nothingness as well. But if there was nothingness, there would be no note either, tucked away in his fist.

“In the forest”, the note read.

Sol promised to atone for his sins and he would never lie to you, remember?

[planetpedri]

jealous pedri 🫦 pretty please 🙏

hope you're having a great day!

Jealous — Pedri González.

Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader

Summary: You wasn’t immune to male attention, and Pedri couldn’t stand it.

Word count: 675+

Disclaimer/s: Jealous!Pedri ehhh idk what else to add clubbing + alcohol mention

A/N: i’ve been WAITING for this request. this is based off ‘jealous’ by nick jonas if it wasn’t already obvious!

The club was booming. Strobe lights flashing and sweat slick partiers passed by with every passing second. This was your element. You loved going out with your boyfriend and you loved any reason to dress up.

Your sparkly black dress flashed different colors with every changing color. A confident smile on your face as you walked in front of Pedri to find the bar.

Pedri trailed behind you with a grin on his face as you easily weaved through the crowd. The grin was short lived when he saw a man in the distance latch onto you, his eyes trailing over your body with a smirk on his lips.

Instantly, Pedri was beside you, covering you from the mans line of sight. His arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you into his side with a protective hold. Your head snapped in his direction curiously, noticing the tightness on his face.

“You alright?” You lean up to his face so he could hear you over the music.

“Did you have to swear that dress tonight?” Pedri questions, his eyes dropping to the small dress. He loved the way it looked on you, but hated knowing other men loved it too.

You laugh, “uh, yeah?”

He was not finding this amusing.

Slipping out of his grasp once you reach the bar, you order yourself a drink. Not one for Pedri, he rarely ever drank, plus he drove you two here. “Go find us a booth while I wait?”

Reluctantly, the man does just that; finding a booth in the corner of the club with full view of everything. Everything included you.

The man from earlier had approached you. Pedri saw the way you stiffened, annoyance flashing across your face every time he presumably flirted. One thing about you that Pedri could rely on always, was your complete and utter devotion. You loved him and he’d never doubted it from the second you uttered those three words.

But, when he saw you crack a small smile at something the stranger said, he swallowed, hard.

Leaning over the table, he asks the group beside if they could watch your table. Recognizing him instantly, they eagerly agreed. One perk of being famous, he supposed.

Making his way down the stairs and to the bar, he slipped behind you. “Cariño.” He grumbled, eyes drifting up to meet the man in front of you.

“Hey, man..” He started, stopping when Pedri’s face stays flat. “Chill. I’m gone!”

The second he stepped away, you were turning on your heels and scowling up at your boyfriend. “Hello? Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, who was that?”

“Stranger danger? I don’t know.” You huff, “and so—oh. Oh my God, you’re jealous.” Your mouth forms a proud smirk, you couldn’t even be mad. It was amusing.

“Can you blame me?” Pedri’s voice is exasperated, his hands flying up in defense.

Your shoulders shrug, “you’re far too obsessed with me for your own good. I would never cheat.” Which was true, you were dating Pedro González, you had no need to cheat. He was everything and more, nobody could compare. “It’s not my fault they hover!”

Your point was well taken, but Pedri tilts his head to the side. “So it’s my fault I have an insanely beautiful girlfriend?”

Tapping your chin playfully, you nod. “Hey. You chose me.”

“And I would make that choice a million times over again.” He hums, leaning down to connect his lips with yours.

Pedri wasn’t massive on public displays of affection, so when he did give it; it was for a purpose. His purpose tonight was to show everyone in that club that you were his. And, you loved every second of it.

Leaning your head back, Pedri lets out a low whine at the loss of contact. “Can we go back to our booth and order some food?” You laugh, “i’m hungry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Pedri sighs, “come on.” His hand tangled into yours, keeping a tight hold on it while he leads you up to your booth.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pedri posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @sakashq @joaoflms @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl @unx100to @st4rgirl-ellie

[starkeysprincess]

rafey’s annoying, slutty, spoiled, bratty, hot little stepsister💖🤭🎀✨

https://www.tumblr.com/sexlikebarbiesmokelikemarley/752935537202102272

https://www.tumblr.com/squishymeowmeowq/755191601686511616/i-want-to-be-barbie-that-bitch-has-everything

https://www.tumblr.com/douxgemini/65384027504584294

https://www.tumblr.com/teccashawty/666073726922719232/princess-vibes

https://www.tumblr.com/parfaitsinsatiable/753198417259429888

https://www.tumblr.com/soubrettesorbet/754627451538276352/sexy-lil-thing

https://www.tumblr.com/sexiibunni/752733354682695680/sun-tanning-buying-colorful-fun-bikinis-while

https://www.tumblr.com/eclaires-world/765823055327002624/anything-for-money

EEEEKKKK yes !!! the formatting was weird for some reason so i had to make it on another post and screenshot it so there wasn’t any gaps 😭

sorry bae for now responding, i was itching to make a moodboard once i saw the pics 🩷

BRATTY!STEPSISTER!READER

— rafe’s little slutty, bratty, spoiled stepsister who loves everything & anything pink

— she loves her juicy couture sweats + baby phat jeans

— wears the tiniest skirts, showcasing the strings of her g-string soley to tease rafe

— always shows off her cute playboy bunny belly piercing

— a brat 24/7 cause she loves to challenge rafe by annoying & pissing him off until he puts her in her place

[scarletwinterxx]

in the quiet of us - choi seungcheol imagine

tbh this fic came about while listening to milk teeth and did you like her in the morning by niki 🥺 dare i say i'm getting better with the angst haha ofc it's gonna end in a cute way

anywayss i hope you like this one🤍

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You and Seungcheol have been dating for nearly a year, and on the surface, the two of you seem to be an ideal couple—you’re the shy, introspective type, while he’s outgoing, expressive, and always the center of attention. 

Your love for Seungcheol is quiet. It’s gentle, steady, and sometimes, you feel like it’s almost too quiet to be enough for someone like him. You have always loved him in a subtle, understated way, hoping that your affection is enough without needing to shout about it. Seungcheol, on the other hand, is the type who wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s affectionate, always complimenting you and showing his love in grand, showy gestures. 

He never shies away from declaring his feelings to the world.

You will never tell him your reasons for holding back when the truth is you love him with every piece of yourself. You’re terrified that your calm, reserved nature won’t compare to the passion and intensity of his past relationships. You about his ex-girlfriend, the one he once spoke of like she was his soul mate. Cheol has always been open about his past, and while he never directly compares you to her, you can’t help but feel like there are times you’re falling short of the vibrant, adventurous, free-spirited image of the girl who’s still a part of his memories. 

You and Seungcheol are sitting together on the couch, having just returned from a weekend getaway. You’re quiet, lost in thought.

"That trip was amazing, huh? I love how we just got to be spontaneous and go wherever we felt like." Cheol says while looking through the photos of your quick weekend getaway with some of his friends, you watch the big smile on his face 

"Yeah... it was nice." softly you say, Cheol being the mind reader he is, immediately looks at you when he hears your voice

Leaning closer to you he asks, "You don’t sound convinced. What’s on your mind?"

“I’ve been thinking a lot about... us, actually."

Cheol felt his heart skip a beat, and not in a good way. There’s so many breakup scenes that start off with those same words

"Us? What about us?" he asks

"I know you’ve had past relationships. I know you loved… you loved her. And I... I don’t know, Seungcheol. I can’t help but feel like... maybe my way of loving you isn’t enough."

Your sudden confession makes him sit straight up, wondering where all of this is coming from, "What do you mean? Of course, it’s enough. You love me in your own way—"

"But it’s so quiet. I’m not like the others. I’m not as... exciting or loud or memorable. I don’t do the big, dramatic gestures like they did. I’m just... me." you cut him off

You see hurt flash across his eyes, wishing you never said anything. You should’ve just said nothing. To avoid his stare, you look down at your hands that were resting on your lap 

"You’re not being fair to yourself. You’re everything I want, just the way you are." he whispers, feeling more sad and disappointed that you think that way about yourself when you’re quite literally everything to him.

Softly, almost to yourself you say "I’m just scared that you’re going to wake up one day and realize that I’m nothing like the girls you’ve loved before. That you’ll want... someone more. Someone who loves you in a bigger, louder way."

He looks at you, a thousand things running through his mind.

"Look at me." he tells you but you don’t move from where you’re sitting

"I just... I don’t know if I can keep pretending that everything’s fine when I feel so... small in your love." 

Gently turning your chin to face him, he smiles at you

"You don’t have to pretend with me. Not ever."

"But what if I’m not what you need? What if you want someone who—"

Cutting you off gently, he speaks again "I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I love you, the way you love me, and it’s more than enough. You don’t need to be like anyone else, because there’s no one like you. You love me in a way that’s so quiet, so steady—it’s the kind of love I’ve always needed, even if I didn’t realize it until now."

You can’t stop the tears falling down on your cheeks, Cheol does that for you. He wipes them away one by one, with each one he says a vow in his mind to never let anything or anyone even himself make you cry in this lifetime. 

"But... I don’t know how to love any other way. I’m not like you. I can’t... do all the big things you do for me." you whimper

"You don’t need to. I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need loud. I need you, exactly as you are." he shakes his head, holding your face between his hands

He waits for you to say anything else but you don’t. You just embrace him, letting yourself fall apart infront of the only man who knows how to fix it all. And he lets you be. He lets you cry in his arms until you fall asleep, he lets you let go of what you’re feeling. Whispering words of assurance and affirmation, letting you know you’re not alone. 

You’ll never feel alone as long as you have him. 

The next morning, after a long conversation, you and Seungcheol are sitting in the kitchen together. He already made breakfast for the two of you. 

You look at him, still feeling a bit unsure but more at ease.

“So... you’re okay with the way I love you? Even if it’s not loud?" you’re the first one to speak

Softly smiling, he takes your hand "Your love is exactly what I’ve always needed. You love me with a softness, a patience, and I’m so grateful for it. I love how you take the time to listen to me, to show you care in the quietest ways. You don’t have to change who you are for me. I want you."

This makes you smile, little by little your worries disappear. You know it’s going to take some time before you feel okay, it’s a war between you and mind and yet here’s Cheol ready to fight that battle with you.

"I’ve always loved you like that. I just didn’t think it would ever be enough." you whisper

He walks over to your side, leaning in and kissing your forehead) "It’s more than enough. You’re more than enough. Always have been." he tells you

Later that day, Seungcheol left to get some errands done. When he comes back, he surprises you with a small gesture—no grand gesture, just a simple note with a favorite flower from the garden.

"Seungcheol, this is... really sweet." you smile up at him

Leaning against the doorframe, looking at you with affection "I know it’s not a big, loud thing, but I hope it says what I’ve been trying to tell you: I love you exactly as you are. In your quiet, beautiful way."

"I love you, too. In my own way." chucking softly, you shoot him a smile. Walking towards where he was, you throw your arms around him. His arms immediately wraps around you, 

"And I’ll never want anything else."

[wemlygust]

It's also reinforced by countless published authors and scriptwriters all saying that people should, "make your villain relatable! Don't make them just evil for evil's sake. The reader should be able to understand why they're doing what they're doing. A tragic villain doing the wrong thing for the right reasons is more compelling and more interesting than a flat villain being evil because evil." People take that advice. And they overdo it and make the villain's reasons make too much sense, oh no, we have to make it evil somehow... Okay also they kill babies! See! Evil! Which, funnily enough, undermines the original goal of making the villain relatable/realistic/interesting/not-evil-for-evil's-sake, because it's literally making the villain evil for evil's sake, except also they have good ideas sometimes. So the remaining, accidental, moral, is just that villains can be right about some stuff. And that the heroes are heroic even if, having delivered passionate speeches about how the villain's methods are unacceptable and how they're doing all the wrong things even if it's for the right reason... they continue to do nothing whatsoever about the underlying problems that inspired the existence of the supervillain in the first place (accidental realism there). My Hero Academia is especially frustrating in this regard. I love that show, don't get me wrong. But it comes SO CLOSE to actually addressing the villains' arguments - which largely about their society's and government's deep inequality problems - seriously, and then just... doesn't. Like. The villains in MHA are all social outcasts for reasons beyond their control. One was raised by a villain. Another is a trans woman (who is fridged pretty early on, but also her teammates use the right pronouns and correct people who misgender her much later on in the show, which is still a surprising/unusual inclusion for a anime/manga, especially for shonen). Another just looks like a lizard and has been discriminated against for that. Multiple were born with powers that, without proper support, can accidentally cause harm, or which other people are alarmed by. They are absolutely intentionally a band of rejects from mainstream society who have been in many ways pushed into becoming villains. They get an entire villain season/arc that *focuses on their perspective and follows them instead of the heroes*. And even after aaaaaall that.... the show STILL never actually has the heroes confront the problems that the villains are very clearly very correct about. It's so frustrating because there are so many points where it feels like it gets so close to that. To maybe having superheroes realize that their society - which they themselves absolutely benefit from in the form of fame and money - has deep flaws that need to be fixed so that the society stops creating villains in the first place. To maybe going in interesting directions with that. But it DOESN'T. It's SO FRUSTRATING ARGH.

... Still a great show though. Anyway I really think a lot of neigh-universal writing advice tidbits like that "make villains' motivations make sense and be relatable, doing anything else is flat and boring" just tends to create 1) a new wave of same-y fiction that all does the same thing and becomes boring after a while, and 2) unintended consequences of various kinds, like this one. (granted this issue with the portrayal of supervillains as "makes a lot of good points but also kills kittens for fun so we can just ignore everything they say I'm sure it's fine" is also deeply rooted in the history of the superhero genre, American media's portrayals of cops (including the in-media-acceptability of cops spying, breaking and entering without a warrant, torturing people and having that be effective), and so on. /rant