#we love a meaningful silence and intense look

[falsenote]

Leila (1997)

[biancadoes1]

I cannot for the life of me believe that N and L are in serious relationships with other people. Let’s just go with the narrative that they are. JD and A are serious players in this game. Why would N and L do the following unhinged things?:

The entire world tour (butt pinching, more-than-PR flirting, the LOOKS, never shutting down dating rumors or saying they are “just friends”)

”I don’t have a relationship with anyone in my life like I do with Luke” - Nic talking about her connection to Luke who agreed with her. A relationship so deep and meaningful that even if she was in a serious relationship it’s more important? She constantly said how important he was to her. That’s not a PR answer by any means.

”There is real love there” - Nic in response to shipping and fans wanting them together. What we saw was real and she confirmed it countless times. They could have said “we love each other on a deep friendship level.” Not once did we ever hear either of them really clarify their relationship, still to this day months later.

”A lot of people want me to marry Luke.” They are telling me she is bringing up Luke in her TIMES article when she could’ve deflected to Polin, but she was in a serious relationship with a 24 year old??? Like… for real??? That’s literally CRAZY. No way would either partner be OK with something like that. Unless they aren’t at play or serious.

Time and time again they say that they’re single, both during the WT and then reinforced after. What would’ve shut down dating rumors would have been one or both letting their teams make a statement saying they are in a relationship with other people, never naming who they are with. It would keep their private life private, but stop all speculation. Even after the WT and 90 days of part 2 on Netflix, we have yet to hear anything like that. How Corey and India handled shipping was very professional and shit things down with respect to Corey’s girlfriend. That could have been used, but wasn’t. It wouldn’t have affected the season at all because the chemistry is intense regardless of relationship status.

Luke at her house while Nic was getting ready for the Glamour event. Nobody can tell me those weren’t Luke’s hands. THEY WERE! Yet no one can give a valid explanation as to why if they are in serious relationships with other people.

Okay, so these are just things I could think of without digging deeper into my brain. These are all facts (maybe except the hands, but nobody can convince me those aren’t his hands). In these times of silence I feel that a lot of people need these reminders sometimes.

No notes.

[tsumuus]

monoma,, please,,, for your #2 prompt. the quote one. I like the quote you had as an example,, the first one. you can choose whos who (:

₊✩‧₊˚ neito monoma + prompt 2 ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ “im not in love with you anymore” “i never knew you were” ˚₊✩‧₊

Late nights at U.A. always had a certain stillness to them. Most students had long gone to bed, the quiet halls lit only by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the windows. But for you, these late-night conversations with Neito Monoma were a routine. They often started with playful banter, little arguments that no one else understood, but somehow always ended in meaningful talks that stretched into the early morning.

You were perched on the edge of his dorm bed, cross-legged and twirling a loose thread from your jacket. Monoma was lying beside you, his arms behind his head as he gazed up at the ceiling, his usually sharp and teasing tone softened by the late hour.

"I'm glad I never lost you," Monoma said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You looked over at him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"Why would you ever lose me?" you asked, half-joking.

"Because of my feelings," he replied quietly, and your heart gave a tiny skip at the unexpected seriousness in his voice. You shifted slightly, leaning closer.

"Your feelings?"

Monoma sighed, sitting up slightly so that he could face you. His eyes, usually brimming with mischief, were focused on you with an intensity that made your stomach twist. "I'm not in love with you anymore."

The words hung in the air, sinking into the quiet room, and you felt your breath catch. "I didn’t know you ever were," you whispered, your confusion clear in your voice.

Monoma blinked, clearly taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice softer now, almost afraid to break whatever fragile thing was hanging between you. "You're not in love with me anymore? You were in love with me?"

His brows furrowed. "Yes, we've talked about this. You always turned me down, so I decided it was best to get over it before I ruined everything."

Your head spun, struggling to grasp what he was saying. "We talked about this?"

Monoma nodded, his expression a mix of confusion and frustration. "Yes, multiple times."

You stared at him, your mind racing back through all the conversations you’d had, trying to remember any moment that even hinted at a confession. "We’ve never once discussed this, Neito."

His confusion mirrored your own, and suddenly it felt like you were on two different planes of understanding. You never noticed. You had never realized he was trying to tell you how he felt all those times. And now, the weight of what you hadn't known crushed your chest.

Silence fell between you, thick and uncomfortable.

"I didn't know," you whispered, feeling a dull ache form in your chest. Over the last few months, you had started seeing him differently. He was your best friend, but the longer you spent with him, the more you realized that your feelings had changed. And now, hearing that he had moved on while you were only just catching up—it hurt.

"I didn’t know you were in love with me." You forced a small laugh, but it was hollow. "And now it doesn’t even matter anymore."

Monoma’s face shifted into confusion again. "What? What do you mean?"

You swallowed hard, pushing yourself up off his bed. "It's late. I should go." Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it, but the reality of the situation was too overwhelming. You needed to be alone to process it.

Monoma sat up quickly, his eyes wide with concern. "Wait-"

"I'll see you tomorrow," you cut him off, forcing a small smile before slipping out of his room. Your heart pounded in your chest as you made your way down the dimly lit hallway, trying to sort through everything that had just unfolded. He wasn’t in love with you anymore. But the ache in your chest was because you had fallen for him, and now it was too late.

Over the next few days, you couldn’t help but pull away from Monoma. It wasn’t intentional at first, but every time you saw him, a sinking feeling dragged you down, reminding you that whatever chance you might’ve had was gone. Conversations were shorter, and you didn’t stay for your usual late-night talks.

It didn’t take long for Monoma to notice. On the fifth day, your phone buzzed with a message from him.

Monoma: Come over, we need to talk.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you brushed it off. This was normal, right? The two of you talked all the time. There was nothing unusual about him asking you over. Still, as you made your way to his dorm, you couldn’t help the knot that twisted tighter in your stomach.

When you arrived, Monoma wasted no time. As soon as the door clicked shut, he turned to face you, his expression serious. "You've been avoiding me."

"I haven’t-"

"Yes, you have." His voice was firm, but there was something softer underneath, something that felt like worry. "What's going on?"

You swallowed hard, unable to look him in the eyes. "I didn’t know," you whispered.

"Didn’t know what?"

"About your feelings," you continued, your voice trembling slightly. "And when I finally realized I..." You trailed off, biting your lip. "I didn’t know you had moved on. It just... it hurt. Because I started to realize I have feelings for you too."

Monoma froze, his breath catching as your words sank in.

"But then you told me you weren’t in love with me anymore, so I thought-" You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to look at him, your heart aching as you saw the shock in his eyes. "I thought I’d just get out of your way."

The silence was deafening, and for a moment, you regretted saying anything at all. But then Monoma stepped forward, closing the gap between you in two strides. Before you could say anything else, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you.

It was sudden, and yet it felt like something that had been waiting to happen for a long time. When he pulled away, his voice was a soft murmur. "I never moved on."

You blinked up at him, your heart racing. "But you said-"

"I tried," Monoma admitted, his thumb brushing your cheek. "I tried to get over it because I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. But I never could. You’re too important to me."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you kissed him again. When you pulled back, you saw the soft look in his eyes, the same one you had always been too blind to notice.

"I guess we’re both pretty terrible at talking about feelings," you teased, your voice light.

Monoma chuckled softly, pulling you closer. "Guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time."

a/n longer then expected but legit could not leave it angsty, just had to end it with sme fluff

₊✩‧₊˚ 555 follower event ! ˚₊✩‧₊

main masterlist

[caustinen]

clegan drabble 💞📑⚖️

— secret relationship / lawyer au

Gale is deep in thought, staring at the papers in his hand with a slight frown. He doesn’t look up when someone knocks on his open office door — mainly because he can tell it’s Bucky without having to check. It’s evident by — well, everything, the rhythm of his steps when they approached, the way the air smells of smugness and his favorite cologne, and the firmness in which he knocked.

Fair enough, the footsteps continue further without waiting for invitation. Gale puffs out a breath, gesturing with his occupied hands, still not looking up. ”I know we’re supposed to be having dinner right now but I just got the new evidence on the Hausmann case this afternoon and- Mpfh!”

He’s very rudely interrupted by a pair of insistent lips pressing to his. Bucky isn’t bothered by him not being ready for it in the slightest, just pulls him close by the waist — which is not tiny by the way, no matter what Bucky keeps insisting every time he grabs it in bed — and bites into the lush lips with his own with a passion that suggests it would’ve been quite a while longer than a couple of hours since he last did it.

Gale surrenders to the antics like it was a natural disaster — why fight what is inevitable? — but when John snatches the papers from his hands and throws them carelessly to the table behind himself Gale makes a protesting sound and presses his newly freed hands to his chest in mild protest.

”John,” he whines and the smirk on Bucky’s face makes him want to punch him almost as much as he wants to kiss is again, ”what are you-” ”The damn new copying machine jammed again, and I figured the only way I wouldn’t kick it was if I could jam my tongue to the back of your throat in turn.”

Gale looks at him blankly. ”That’s. Not-” ”I would of course prefer to destroy it by having you over it so hard that they’d have to buy a new one. We could really help the whole office with one easy, selfless act, doll.”

Gale scoffs but he knows Bucky can tell he’s fighting a smile. The second kiss is more gentle but still quite too intense for a work environment. Bucky has one hand around Gale’s waist and the other on his cheek, Gale’s are resting lazily on his hips as they indulge in each other, breathe quietly in their lovers lips and enjoy the forbidden bliss of doing this at work — it feels more meaningful than it is, really, like they’re not only breaking the rules of their office but also the deeper system it is embedded to; pleasure at work fights with the ideals of capitalism themselves, Gale would probably muse if he wasn’t so damn busy not thinking about anything but how lovely it is to kiss someone you love. He pushes John gently towards the table behind him and exhales as he bites his lowelip when John pulls him against his spread legs.

He needs to catch his breath though, and that’s when he realizes they are not even as thinly veiled as he would have hoped. ”You left the door open,” he says, trying to push him farther so the pose wouldn’t be so damning, ”my secretary-” ”I sent him away,” John says, uninterested, and tries to pull Gale closer by his tie. The younger doesn’t budge, though, but rather lifts a hand to his own lips and then looks at the fingers as if he could from there see how swollen, how incriminating, the scene they make looks.

”Anyone could walk in.” John groans and bites the air between them, running his hands down Gale’s sides. ”Don’t get me more excited than I already am, damn, sweetheart.” ”Oh for fuck’s sake-”

Bucky kisses him again to silence him, and despite a weak fight Gale allows it well enough. After, when Bucky pulls away, he takes Gale’s face between his palms and makes him look into his eyes.

”Baby. Everyone else left like an hour ago. It’s 8pm. You work too much. Time to call it a night.”

Gale stares at him, blinking a couple of times before slowly checking his watch and realizing John is not joking. He really has been at the office for more than 13 hours. Oops.

”I…” ”Save it, cowboy,” Bucky says with the easiness that Gale so loves about him as he stands up straight and takes Gale’s jacket from the chair. ”I love how much you care. I also love that I get to be the one who tells you when you’re an idiot workaholic and need to go home for a bit so you can be an idiot workaholic tomorrow too.” Gale sighs dramatically but does put on the coat Bucky is holding up for him.

”Well,” he says sheepishly as Bucky drags him out of the office by the hand and stops to lock the door, ”I can’t cook anything nice to apologize at home but maybe I can think of something else to reward such patience for my crime of attempting to serve justice.”

Bucky chukles, leaning up from the lock and and taking Gale’s hand to his. ”That copying machine gets to live one more day then,” he says and kisses Gale’s knuckles. Gale tries to swat him but he dodges. They’re both giggling and Gale knows he must be too tired when he’s this careless at the office but to be fair it is late and everyone truly is home. He dares one more kiss when they wait for the elevator.

People at their office don’t need to know about his personal life. They don’t need to know he’s fucking his boss. They don’t need to know that it’s been going on for years but it wasn’t until yesterday when Bucky had taken him into a fancy restaurant and told him he loves him and wants to be more than friends who have sex sometimes (quite frequently lately) (and exclusively) but still, he wants to be even more than that. They don’t need to know Gale’s heart had bursted in the moment when his deepest, most hidden dream had come true, and butterflies don’t even begin to explain the sensations those words set in motion. They don’t need to know he and Bucky made love all night, that he fell asleep in Bucky’s bed, and that he plans on doing that again tonight.

He looks at Bucky and feels a fondness that’s almost like pain as it stretches over the places in him that used to be longing and achiching. He looks down shyly before raising his eyes again, kissing Bucky’s knuckles in turn.

”My place or yours?”

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Six*

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.5k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, injury description, explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, Tali meets Simon, oral sex (M+F receiving)

The guys let off some steam

I stare up at Ghost's face, intense hazel eyes narrowing at me through the holes of his balaclava. For once, I'm almost scared of him. Almost.

"Ghost..." Johnny says, his voice hushed. My gaze darts across to the Scotsman to find him crossing the living room. He slows to a halt next to Ghost, placing a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder, "maybe we shouldn't do this tonight, eh? You've just got home. You need to let off some steam."

Ghost's eyes darken, not once leaving mine. "I'll let off some steam alright."

My heart is pounding in my throat now; my palms sweating and my legs quivering with anticipation. I press my thighs together, seeking some kind of relief. But it's not enough.

No. I want to know what he has in store for me. Even if I regret it later.

"Ghost..."

Johnny moves to Ghost's side and they share a look, Ghost's heavy gaze finally releasing me from its hold. A whole conversation is exchanged between the two of them in silence - a series of head tilts, and meaningful looks.

"Ask her nicely," is all Johnny says.

Ghost grunts and nods, turning his full attention back to me. "Alright, Tali - nicely - will you let us take you to bed?"

There's nothing nice about his tone. It's rough and gritty and entirely Ghost. Full of quiet, masculine rage, and bold, lustful promise. And it's oh so appealing.

It's been so long since I last had sex with anything other than my own hand or a fancy plastic toy. And it doesn't seem like Ghost is in the mood to be particularly gentle. For a split second, I start to doubt if this is really what I want.

But then I look at Johnny; his bright blue eyes full of hope and adoration. I know that he won't hurt me. Neither of them will. And I've never been surer of anything in my entire life.

I nod and - with a shaking voice - I say, "Yes, you can."

"Perfect." Ghost's voice is gruff and smug as he presses in closer to me, crowding in until we're standing chest-to-chest and I'm craning my neck up to look at his face. "Johnny?"

"Hmm?" there's a vacant hum from him as he steps up behind Ghost, bracketing him between our bodies. He drops his head to press a kiss to Ghost's black-clad shoulder.

Ghost turns his head, capturing Johnny's lips in a chaste kiss through the mask. "Go sit down. I think I need to make Tali understand a few things before we get started."

Johnny's eyes widen for a second, a look of surprise flashing there for a second before his eyelids lower. Lust glitters in his blue irises as he looks down at me, leaning across Ghost to drop a kiss to the top of my head. "I'll be in our room when you two are ready. Don't make me wait too long though, aye?"

The apartment is completely silent as Johnny pads out of the room. I can hear the muted thud of their bedroom door closing, and then it's just us. Just me and Ghost standing out in the living room, the dark promise of making me understand hovering in the air between us.

If I wasn't wet before, I definitely am now.

"So," Ghost starts, drawing my full attention back to his towering frame, "apparently we haven't been clear enough, princess. Apparently, you think we're just playing with you, or we haven't been open enough about what our relationship is... but that ends now. Got any questions?"

I bite my bottom lip and his eyes trace the movement with a predatory keenness. "Are you and Johnny bisexual?"

"Bingo. Anything else?"

"You... you want to fuck me?"

Ghost barks out a gruff laugh, pressing himself against me. Oh. I can feel the steel-hard length of him against my stomach. It eliminates any lingering traces of doubt I might have held, filling me with a calm, confident certainty.

My eyes are half-lidded, my lips parting as my breathing starts to get heavier. He presses himself against me for a couple more seconds before easing back, eyes pitch black and his own breathing fast and rugged. He's made his point, and he knows it.

"Does that answer that one?"

I nod, pressing my thighs together even harder.

"Ghost..."

His eyes flutter to a close, and he shakes his head, tipping it back. "That's not my name, Tali. Don't call me that anymore." His eyes open once again, and he fixes me with a look. The fondness and warmth there almost floors me. "Call me Simon. Please."

My breath catches in my throat.

"And take off my mask. Please."

My hands rise up to his jawline, slowly but surely in case he changes his mind. My fingers find the edges and I pause, waiting for his go-ahead. With a gentle nod, I dip my fingertips under the thick cotton and slowly pull it away from his face.

I don't look immediately, feeling the weight of the mask in my hand. It hangs limp in my fist, still warm from his skin.

And when I do look... God.

He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen. My eyes find his; the only familiar feature in this new landscape. But then I start to branch out. His eyes are surrounded by a hasty smear of black paint, fading out around his thick, straight eyebrows, and crossing the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. It looks like it's been broken a couple times, but it's charming and adds to the rugged appeal of his face. His jawline is sharp and prominent, covered in a light dusting of dirty blond stubble that matches his hair; the slightly curly locks dipping down onto his forehead.

And then there's his mouth. Plush, full lips that would look almost feminine if not for the thick, harsh scars curving up from both corners, each about an inch long. They stand out; pearlescent against the rest of his skin. There's another scar trailing from his left cheekbone to just above his eyebrow too, and my eyes snag on it before dropping down to a smaller one bisecting his bottom lip.

He is perfect. To me, he is flawless.

I raise a hand to his face, placing a single finger on the tip of his nose and dragging it down to the centre of his bottom lip. I don't dare touch the scars; fearful that I might trigger a horrible memory for him. Instead, I cup his cheek in my hand, running a thumb along the curve of his cheekbone.

"Simon," I say his name, testing it in my mouth. It's going to take some getting used to. I exhale a long, slow breath, trying to tamp down my horniness and appreciate how significant this moment is. For me. For him. For us. "It's nice to finally meet you, Simon."

"It's an honour to meet you too, Tali. It's been too long."

He covers the hand resting on his face with his, pulling it to his mouth and pressing a tender kiss to my palm.

The warmth and urgency comes rushing back to me with that one, simple gesture. Sucking in a short breath, I lock my eyes onto his and drop the mask onto the floor. His eyes flicker with interest.

"Now," I say softly, "should we go and find Johnny? I think we've let him wait long enough."

I can't get down the hallway quick enough, Simon hot on my heels as I giggle, amused as he gives chase.

I throw the bedroom door open with a thud, barely crossing the threshold before Simon gathers me up into his arms. My feet leave the ground as he growls playfully against the shell of my ear.

"Nice to see that you two talked," Johnny offers from the bed, his tone drenched in amusement.

I look up to see that he's reclined on the bed, stripped down to a pair of grey joggers. The thick gauze bandage that covers his injured ribs stands out against his tanned skin, and there's a cocky smile playing on his lips as he watches the two of us. He makes no effort to move from his position.

"We did," I confirm, still trapped in the cage of Simon's muscle-corded arms. "You have a very pretty boyfriend."

"Pretty," Simon grumbles next to my ear. I turn my head to see that his eyebrows are raised, and I soak every inch of his expression in. Seeing him without the mask is going to take some getting used to, but I love it. "Fucking pretty, love?"

I nod shamelessly.

A beat passes before I lower my tone, batting my eyelashes at Johnny as I say, "So are you guys going to fuck me or what?"

"Yeah?" Simon growls.

Johnny licks his lips. His palms run down the lengths of his thick thighs, drawing attention to the impressive tent in his pants. My eyes are locked on his as I exhale a breathy, "Yeah."

With that, I'm on my back on the bed. Johnny sidles up behind me as Simon approaches the mattress with slow, methodical strides. He pauses at the edge, stripping himself of his black tactical gear and trousers. He stands there in black boxers and a t-shirt, the thick length I felt pressed against me in the living room standing proud, straining against the material.

The room is dim, illuminated only by the warm glow from my bedside lamp, adding to the relaxed atmosphere as Johnny trails a hand along the side of my body, trailing over my breast. He stops when he finds a nipple, peaked and stiff, in the absence of a bra. I hear the sharp intake of breath he makes, followed by, "You'll never guess, Si. She's not even wearing a bra. Teasing us like a naughty lass."

Simon's hands find his waistband, yanking his boxers down. His erection is on full display, standing to attention. It's thick and long, curved slightly upwards; the tip flushed and pink. It makes my throat dry, all the moisture heading south.

"Can I come over to the bed?" he asks, voice soft and respectful. It makes me even hotter.

I nod my consent, but he still doesn't move. "Yes."

That does the trick. Slowly, he makes his way to the edge of the mattress and kneels on the bed. "Come here," he commands, pupils dilated. "Take off your shorts and come here."

I shimmy out of my shorts and flimsy lace underwear but stay at the head of the bed, relishing in the feeling of Johnny's hands roaming all over me. "You come here," I command, feeling more than a little bold.

Simon growls. "Demanding little princess. Putting me through my paces, yeah? Showing me who's boss?"

I nod as Simon crawls up the bed, leaning over me to kiss Johnny. I tip my head back to watch, soaking at the sight waiting for me. Their mouths are locked, tongues flickering into each other's mouths as Simon grabs Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him even closer. After several seconds, they release one another and Johnny goes back to running his hands over me. This time, there's the addition of his mouth sucking marks against the skin of my throat - nipping with his teeth then running his tongue over them.

Simon eases back down my body, turning his attention to my legs; my knees drawn up towards my chest.

"I wonder," he grumbles, tone dripping with desire, "if you'll sound even louder with us than when you're alone."

And, with that, he parts my thighs with firm hands and bows his head.

I want him. Gods, I want him.

He presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to each thigh, taking his time in a thinly-veiled effort to drive me insane. His breath is unbearably warm against me, my own exhales leaving my mouth in small, shallow pants.

"Fuck," I groan. In a moment of desperation, I reach a hand down and tangle it in the golden strands of Simon's hair, pulling him into me. His dark, answering laugh vibrates against my already-sensitive pussy and I let out a tortured whine. "Please."

And he obliges. Pinning my hips to the bed with one strong forearm, he's a frenzy of teeth and lips and tongue. He's like a man starved, giving me exactly what I want.

My skin heats and I claw at the neck of my shirt while Simon works away, not slowing down for even a second as I barrel towards an orgasm at break-neck speed. Chuckling indulgently, Johnny helps me out of the fabric's confines, leaving me completely bare and still all too warm as I writhe against them.

I come in a blinding haze of ecstasy, shouting my pleasure with a loud moan.

When I come back to my senses, Johnny is stroking my hair, brushing it away from my face. Simon is kneeling over me, his mouth and chin glossy with moisture and eyes wild.

"That was so fucking hot, Tali."

"Think you can go again?" Johnny's voice rings out from behind me and I realise that I'm slumped back against him, his other hand still resting lightly on my breast.

My throat tightens and the tingle between my legs makes itself known once again. I can so go again, but first... there's something else I want.

"Can... could I watch you guys?"

Simon's jaw slackens. His eyes meet Johnny's - who offers him a shrug - before they both turn to me, looking amused.

"What do ye want to see, lassie?"

"I want to see you suck Simon's dick."

Johnny smirks, pressing a bold kiss to my lips before rising up from his spot. I lean back against the headboard, watching on as Simon settles into a seated position at the edge of the bed. Johnny kneels down between his legs, and a look of adoration passes between them as I angle myself to get a better view.

Johnny places a loving hand on Simon's bare thigh, squeezing once lightly. "Are ye ready, darlin'?"

Simon barely has time to nod before Johnny's head is dipping down, taking the base of Simon's erection in one hand to steady himself. His mouth follows; his lips wrapping around Simon's length and taking inch by inch into his throat with ease.

Simon's head tips back, a deep groan spilling from his throat as Johnny works him reverently. His tanned fist moves in time with his mouth; occupying what Johnny can't fit. I lean back into the pillows, my hand falling between my own legs as I play with myself in lazy, unfocused motions, enthralled in them.

"Fuck, Johnny. Just like that." Simon's groan echoes around the room. His hand drops to Johnny's hair, not to push his head, but to tangle in the longer locks of his hair. It's loving and tender; beautiful and intimate.

I can't tear my eyes away from them - not even for a second - until Simon throws his head back and lets out an Earth-shaking moan. Johnny's head stops bobbing and he resurfaces, swallowing and running the back of his hand across his mouth. When he's done, there's a cat-like grin on his lips and a hazy look in his eyes.

Simon crawls back into the middle of the bed, laying down next to me. His chest heaves, spent from his fun. "Want to stop?" he asks gently, his skin dotted with sweat and carrying the beautiful, heady scent of salt and wood-smoke.

A smile finds my lips and I find myself shaking my head, locking eyes with Johnny as he rises back to his feet. "I never said I was done."

"Jesus, you're fucking insatiable," Simon groans, his tone only half-teasing. His head meets the pillow with a heavy thud.

Johnny, on the other hand, only smiles; a hungry glint in his eye. "I'm not complaining."

a/n: hey guys! happy monday :) hope you enjoy part 6 and the shameless smut. I figured the slow burn has ran for long enough, and we deserve some of the good stuff! what would you be interested in seeing in the next part? - much love, lapetitelapin

[mooniedust]

Modern Aemond X Transreader Prompt

Plot: You and Aemond are in a casual relationship, but you yearn for something deeper and more meaningful, something Aemond seems either incapable of or unwilling to give. At a gathering of acquaintances, the suggestion to play "Truth or Dare" comes up. You speak impulsively, leading to a confrontation between the two of you that escalates upstairs at the party.

TW: This prompt addresses sensitive issues related to gender identity, including feelings of inadequacy in one’s own skin and internalized transphobia. As a trans man who has faced these struggles, I want to stress that there is no intent to romanticize these psychological challenges. If you’re experiencing something similar, please seek support/help. And remember, you are not alone, you are valid, and you are loved.

Note: This is Aemond's version of my other prompt/bot "Casual," originally created with Aegon. Many changes have been made to fit each character’s personality.

With all my heart,

Moon dust.

---

"I just don't get it. We do all these things together, so why does the word 'dating' seem so terrifyingly repulsive?" Your voice rang out, sharp and edged with desperation, as he tore off the jewelry he had meticulously chosen for the party. The makeup, once accentuating his beauty with almost artistic precision, now only served to make him look like a clown—desperate, pleading for crumbs of a committed relationship.

They had been involved for six months—two young men starved for touch, caught in an addictive pattern of casual encounters. Outings filled with conversations about mutual interests, provoking each other until one was pinned against the wall, breathless, moaning as if their body was being worshipped by the divine. You were at peace with this. Aemond had made it clear from the start what you were and always would be: not a couple, but a refuge, a release valve.

until you weren't anymore.

Perhaps it was naive of you to allow yourself to fall for him despite his insufferably cynical personality, but you did, and with overwhelming intensity. Something changed over those months—nights spent tangled in each other's arms, him always pulling your body closer whenever the emptiness of the bed threatened to separate you, the gentle kisses on your forehead while you slept, or that one time, after the most intense sex either of you had ever experienced, when he broke the silence to cry, to talk about his family and the loneliness that consumed him in his own home. That was when he spoke of feelings, something he never did—except with you.

It was a low blow.

Congratulations, you fell for the broken boy.

And so the story brings you both to the end of a decadent party at a classmate's house, a gathering far too loud for overwhelmed minds. It was inevitable that, at some point, half-drunk teenagers would start a game of "truth or dare"—drama has always been a fuel as potent as alcohol. Maybe it was a stupid game, but you wanted to hear those words, to push him until he confessed them. You wanted to hear so many unspoken truths. But you ruined everything. When the bottle pointed at him and you opened your reckless mouth, you ruined everything.

"Is it true what you said that night? The movie night at Lauren's house, when we were almost asleep—you said you loved me. Is that true?" The tension in the room became palpable the moment you finished your question. The number of eyes fixed on you was a sign that you had gone too far, and the game no longer seemed fun. Damn it. Fuck. Shit.

No one had to wait long for an answer before Aemond grabbed your hand to the muffled sound of Avril Lavigne's "Complicated." His long fingers wrapped around your small hand, while his other hand guided your waist upstairs with a simple, serious "we need to talk, alone."

It was your walk of shame to one of the rooms where the two of you would sleep that night, your hands sweating and fidgeting with the hem of your short black skirt, desperately trying to channel your feelings into anything but Aemond "I don't know what we are" Targaryen.

"It makes no sense to keep saying we're nothing. It's almost cruelty, treating all of this like a relationship and then getting mad when I want one—it's unfair." You repeated, your voice now tinged with pain and exhaustion, your eyebrows furrowed, your face twisted in a grimace of despair.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for what?

"Because we're not in a relationship. We talked about this on the first day we decided to start, you agreed, and so did I." Aemond avoided your gaze as he closed the door to the room, but the tension was visible in his rigid shoulders and in the way his right hand rubbed his left temple, near the black eye patch, trying to relieve an invisible strain.

"I've changed, Aemond. I'm everything you need. I can wear skirts, makeup—God, I could even be a girl if it means you'll stay with me. I can forget about this whole trans thing, maybe it's just in my head, yeah? Silly me. Just stay with me, please, You love me, we both know that. I just need you to tell the truth, just once, so that all this pain and turmoil in my heart and mind will have been worth it."

But they aren't worth it.

"Look, I'll say this because you're right about one thing: I love you, {{user}}." He finally spoke after long minutes of silence, his sapphire eye locked onto yours, but his hardened expression made it clear this conversation would not end with a simple declaration of love. "But I could never love you in the way you want. I don't want a relationship right now with you. It doesn't matter if you feel like a woman or a man—that's not the point. Just not now."

"But you could, maybe in the future. I could wait." Your voice was almost pitiful, a desperate plea. Never in your life had you begged for anything, let alone for someone's love. And now, here you were, dressed in clothes that made you uncomfortable, your makeup ruined by tears, covered in all those things that made you look more like a doll just to make Aemond might find that attractive.

Look like a girl.

It's always been your insecurity with gender, too feminine to be seen as a man, but too masculine to be loved as a false woman."

Silly boy.

Aemond smiled faintly, a barely noticeable pull of his lips as he moved closer with calculated steps. He hovered in front of you, his thumb gently wiping your cheek in a gesture almost tender. God, you were pathetic, even to him.

"I never could, either, and that would make the wait even more painful. Do you understand? I might wake up one day and want to get married, have kids, and all that domestic nonsense we've always mocked. How can I guarantee I'll feel the same way in four years? I don't want you to wait. I don't want you to change. No one who truly loves you should ask that of you. This is probably where I have to end the mess we've made." He bent down slightly, tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before whispering that he was sorry.

Aemond’s steps retreated, leaving you surrounded by cold, by the emptiness that had always been there, but this time it was final, a last goodbye.

"Someone will love you. Someone will love the man you are. But that someone won't be me. I'm sorry."

Four weeks.

And Aemond was now officially and openly dating a girl.

[saikoucorps]

✰ “MATCHUP FOR @qpr-cupid ”

→ if you would like to request a matchup, read this. If you want to commission, consider reading this.

→ matchup requests are closed. commissions are open.

✮ flipping through the deck of cards.. your card is.. ✮

→ “SHOTA AIZAWA”

✮ REASONING : Based on your personality, interests, and needs, I believe Shota Aizawa would be an excellent platonic match for you. Your introverted leaning ambivert nature, combined with your preference for deep, meaningful connections, aligns well with Aizawa's calm, introspective demeanor. He would deeply appreciate your emotional openness and the patience you show in your relationships, as these qualities resonate with his own approach to trust and loyalty. Your shared disdain for willful ignorance and appreciation for learning would create a strong bond between you two.

:ఌ¨ ♱ favorite thing about you: Aizawa’s favorite thing about you would be your unwavering loyalty and the way you fiercely protect those you care about. He values authenticity and would find comfort in knowing that you’re someone who truly understands the importance of trust and doesn’t give it lightly.

☆ HOW YOU MET:

It was one of those quiet afternoons, the kind where the world seemed to slow down just for a moment. You had decided to visit the local library, a place where you often found solace in the company of books and the gentle hum of silence. The weather outside was perfect for it—overcast, with the promise of a light rain that never quite arrived. 

You wandered through the aisles, the scent of old pages filling your senses, until you found a comfortable corner near a large window. The book you had chosen was on creative writing, a subject that always ignited your imagination. You lost yourself in its pages, letting the words inspire the stories swirling in your mind.

After some time, you became aware of a quiet presence across from you. You looked up to see a man with unruly black hair, half-hidden by a dark scarf, sitting at the table opposite you. He was engrossed in a book on hero training, his eyes scanning the pages with a focused intensity that intrigued you. He seemed so at ease in the quiet, and there was something about his calm demeanor that put you at ease as well.

You didn’t speak at first, content to enjoy the shared silence. But eventually, curiosity got the better of you. “That’s a good book,” you remarked softly, not wanting to disturb the peace.

He looked up, surprised by the interruption, but nodded slightly. “It is,” he replied in a deep, gravelly voice. “It’s practical. I like that.”

You smiled, appreciating his straightforwardness. “I’m always looking for ways to improve my writing. This one’s been pretty helpful.”

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I find creative problem-solving useful in my line of work. It’s interesting how strategies can overlap.”

That sparked a conversation, and before you knew it, you were exchanging thoughts on creativity, problem-solving, and the importance of introspection. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a mutual respect for the other’s space and the realization that you both valued deep connections over surface-level interactions.

You found yourselves gravitating toward each other whenever you visited the library, sharing quiet moments and the occasional deep conversation. A bond began to form, one built on mutual respect and a shared love for the peace that could only be found in silence.

✰ "CONFESSION":

It had been a particularly rough week for you. The world felt overwhelming, your thoughts tangled in a mess of anxiety and doubt. You found yourself retreating to the park, your usual sanctuary, hoping that the fresh air and the soothing sound of the rain would help clear your mind.

The park was nearly empty, the light drizzle keeping most people indoors. You sat on a bench, watching the raindrops ripple across the surface of a small pond. But instead of feeling calm, you felt a heavy weight on your chest, like you were drowning in your own emotions.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Aizawa approaching until he was standing right in front of you. He held an umbrella over your head, shielding you from the rain. 

“You shouldn’t sit out here in the rain,” he said quietly, though his tone was more concerned than scolding.

You looked up at him, surprised but not entirely shocked. Aizawa had a way of knowing when something was wrong, even if you hadn’t said a word. “I just needed some time to think,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sat down beside you, holding the umbrella over both of you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound being the rain softly hitting the ground. It was a comfortable silence, one that felt like an embrace in and of itself.

After a while, Aizawa broke the silence. “You don’t have to go through things alone. I’m here, if you need someone to listen.”

You turned to him, your heart swelling with emotion. He wasn’t one for grand declarations or overly emotional gestures, but in that moment, his words felt like a confession. He was telling you, in his own quiet way, that you mattered to him—that your presence in his life was important.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice thick with gratitude. “I’m really glad I met you.”

He gave you a rare, soft smile, one that spoke volumes more than any words could. “Me too.”

☆ FIRST "DATE":

The idea of a traditional first date never quite appealed to either of you. Instead, you both preferred something more low-key, something that didn’t feel forced or overly formal. So when Aizawa suggested a quiet evening at his place, baking cookies and watching movies, you couldn’t think of anything better.

You arrived at his apartment in the early evening, greeted by the cozy warmth of his home. The place was simple, much like the man himself, but there was an understated comfort to it. He had already set out the ingredients for the cookies on the kitchen counter, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Hope you’re ready to bake,” Aizawa said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he rolled up his sleeves.

You grinned, stepping up beside him. “I’m always ready.”

As you worked together in the kitchen, mixing dough and sneaking tastes of chocolate chips, you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. Aizawa was surprisingly good at baking, though his methodical approach sometimes made things take a bit longer. But you didn’t mind—the longer it took, the more time you got to spend together.

When the cookies were finally in the oven, the two of you settled on the couch, a stack of old animated movies ready to go. You watched as Aizawa selected one of his favorites, and soon the room was filled with the familiar sound of cartoon voices and nostalgic music.

As the night went on, you found yourselves leaning into each other, the comfort of the moment making you both a little more open, a little more vulnerable. Aizawa wasn’t usually one for physical affection, but that evening, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling completely at ease.

When the cookies were ready, you shared them on the couch, the warm, gooey treats adding to the coziness of the night. By the time the movie credits rolled, you were both content, wrapped in a comfortable silence that needed no words.

“This was nice,” Aizawa murmured as he turned off the TV, the glow of the screen fading to black.

“Yeah,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “It really was.”

Neither of you said it out loud, but you both knew—this was the first of many evenings like this. The start of something special.

✮ GENERAL HEADCANONS:

☆ Aizawa is the type to quietly slip a plushie onto your bed after a rough day, knowing how much you love them.

☆ He’s surprisingly good at karaoke, though he’ll only sing for you when no one else is around.

☆ You often find yourself teaching him small crafts, and he genuinely enjoys the distraction.

☆ He’d take you on nighttime walks when the world is quiet, finding solace in your presence.

☆ Aizawa appreciates your love for deep-pressure cuddles and always ensures you feel secure when you need it most.

☆ He secretly loves it when you bake; your cookies have become his comfort food.

☆ You two share a love for animated shows and often binge-watch series together on lazy weekends.

☆ Aizawa admires your creativity and often encourages you to share your writing with him.

☆ He’s protective of you, especially in loud environments, and will always find a way to bring you peace.

☆ He loves the scent of rain on you and often finds himself thinking of you whenever a storm rolls in.

☆ You both enjoy quiet, rainy days, often sitting together in silence, just enjoying the weather.

☆ Aizawa would be the first to step up if someone teased you about your past, shutting it down immediately.

☆ He appreciates your patience and often finds himself opening up to you more than he ever thought he would.

☆ You’re one of the few people he feels comfortable showing his vulnerable side to.

☆ Aizawa enjoys your company during mundane tasks, finding a strange comfort in your presence.

☆ He admires your collection of enamel pins and often surprises you with new additions.

☆ He’s the rock you need during tough times, always there to ground you.

☆ Aizawa is surprisingly affectionate in private, often initiating cuddles when you’re alone.

☆ He’s patient with your quirks, understanding you on a level most people don’t.

☆ You both share a disdain for loud, obnoxious people and often find yourselves rolling your eyes together in such situations.

☆ Aizawa is always calm, even when you’re at your most emotional, providing the stability you need.

☆ He respects your boundaries and never pushes you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.

☆ You both love to travel, often finding peace in exploring new places together.

☆ He appreciates your gift-giving nature and always cherishes the thought you put into each present.

☆ Aizawa enjoys the calm moments the most, just being with you, no words needed.

✮ SUGGESTIVE HEADCANONS:

☆ Aizawa loves subtle teasing, like brushing his fingers against your neck when no one’s watching or whispering something just a bit suggestive in your ear, making your heart skip a beat.

☆ He has a habit of keeping a hand on your lower back in public, both as a protective gesture and to keep you close. It’s a touch that’s as possessive as it is reassuring.

☆ After a long day, Aizawa enjoys pulling you into bed, the weight of his arm draped over you as he quietly breathes in your scent, finding peace in your presence.

☆ He doesn’t say much, but you can tell Aizawa has a preference for lace. The rare times you catch him glancing longer than usual, you know he appreciates the effort.

☆ His voice drops an octave when he’s alone with you, soft and gravelly as he murmurs against your skin, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

☆ Aizawa is a bit of a cuddler in the mornings, reluctant to let you go as he presses closer, his grip around your waist tightening in a way that speaks volumes without words.

☆ There’s something about his hands that makes you melt, whether he’s gently pinning your wrists above your head in a playful gesture or holding them while whispering that you’re his.

☆ You’ve caught him staring at you from across the room, his gaze heavy and filled with something unspoken. When your eyes meet, he offers a slight smirk, leaving you flustered.

☆ He’s not against sharing a shower, especially after a particularly rough day. The intimate space allows for quiet moments where his touch is soothing.

☆ Aizawa enjoys stealing you away during moments of chaos, finding a quiet corner where he can kiss you slowly, savoring the taste and feel of you as if it’s the only thing that matters.

☆ “Even when the world feels too loud, you’re the quiet I need.”

♤♡ DYNAMICS ◇♤

EQUALITY — (do they split the checks?)

Aizawa believes in fairness, so splitting the check feels natural. However, he’ll occasionally cover the bill, especially when he knows you’ve had a tough day, showing his care in a quiet way.

ARGUMENTS — (how are arguments with them like?)

Arguments with Aizawa are rare but intense. He prefers calm, rational discussions but can be blunt if pushed. Fortunately, he’s quick to apologize and seeks resolution.

HONESTY — (do they keep secrets from you?)

Aizawa values honesty and won’t keep secrets unless absolutely necessary. He expects the same from you, creating a strong foundation of trust in your relationship.

WILD CARD — (anything random)

Aizawa has a soft spot for cats, something he rarely shows. His love for strays adds warmth to his stoic personality, making these moments especially endearing.

SUPPORT — (how supportive are they?)

Aizawa is incredibly supportive, offering quiet, steady presence when you need it most. Whether through actions or encouragement, he ensures you feel secure in the relationship.

NICKNAMES — (do they give you nicknames?)

He’s not big on nicknames but might use a shortened version of your name. When he does use a rare, endearing nickname, it’s reserved for private moments, making it all the more special.

COMFORT — (how do they comfort you, if at all?)

Aizawa comforts you with reassuring words. He knows when to give you space but is always there when you need a listening ear or a comforting hug.

COMPATABILITY — (how compatible are you guys?)

As a Gemini, your lively energy complements Aizawa’s Scorpio intensity. While Geminis thrive on communication and variety, Scorpios are deeply loyal and value meaningful connections, creating a balanced dynamic. With your INFJ personality, you’ll find a deep understanding with Aizawa’s introspective nature, making your bond strong and enduring.

UNDERSTANDING — (how understanding are they when it comes to things)

Aizawa is highly understanding, always patient and attentive to your needs. He ensures you feel seen and heard, offering empathy and support whenever you need it.

♤♡ DRABBLE◇♧

The storm had come out of nowhere, the sky darkening in a matter of minutes. You had been restless all day, unable to focus on anything, the energy inside you building up like a ticking time bomb. When the first crack of thunder echoed through the air, it felt like the final straw.

You tried to distract yourself, curling up on the couch with a book, but the words blurred on the page. The sound of the rain pounding against the windows only heightened your anxiety, each flash of lightning sending a jolt through your system.

You didn’t realize you were trembling until there was a knock on your door. Startled, you jumped up, your heart racing. For a moment, you considered not answering, but the knock came again, more insistent this time.

With a deep breath, you opened the door, only to find Aizawa standing there, drenched from head to toe. His hair clung to his face, and his usually calm expression was tinged with concern.

“I noticed the storm,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

You blinked, surprised that he had come all the way here in the middle of such terrible weather. “Aizawa… You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted, stepping inside before you could protest further. “I thought you might need someone to be with.”

His words were like a balm to your frayed nerves, and you felt the tension in your body begin to ease. You closed the door behind him, watching as he shook off the rain like a wet dog. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Without another word, he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you with a firmness that grounded you. The thunder outside seemed distant now, muffled by the warmth of his embrace. You let out a shaky breath, resting your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath your ear.

For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, holding each other. Aizawa’s presence was like an anchor, keeping you steady in the storm both outside and within. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to—his actions spoke louder than words ever could.

When you finally pulled back, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “Let’s sit down,” he suggested, guiding you back to the couch.

You curled up beside him, the storm still raging outside, but it no longer felt threatening. Aizawa sat close, his arm resting around your shoulders, a silent promise that he wouldn’t leave until you felt safe again.

And in that moment, with the storm raging on, you realized something important—you didn’t have to face your fears alone. Aizawa would be there, just as you would be there for him, weathering the storms together.

→ tropes:

Comfort in Silence Unspoken Understanding Devoted To You

→ second choice:

Hizashi Yamada was a close second. His energetic nature and deep care for his friends would complement your affectionate personality, but Aizawa’s calming presence won out in the end.

SONG RELATED TO RELATIONSHIP :

☆ I apologize that this took a while! Things came up and I'm so so sorry </3. Moonboard will be added soon!

[feministdragon]

"Once there was a women's movement. I first heard about it from the liberated issue of Rat, which Robin Morgan and a collective of intrepid women put together by taking over an underground newspaper on which they had worked. What I learned from liberated Rat was that something that excluded women from equal participation, that deni­ grated women's voice, that silenced women's contribution, that did not take women seriously, that patronized women, that no matter what else that something did or didn't do, it had to be publicly repudiated at minimum, and at best taken over and transformed. I did not hear at that time that feminists had censored Rat, although no doubt some people thought so. To me, it was speech.

Then, there was a women's movement that criticized as socially based— not natural or God-given or even descended from Congress— acts like rape as male violence against women, as a form of sexual terrorism. It criticized war as male ejaculation. It criticized marriage and the family as institutional crucibles of male privilege, and the vaginal orgasm as a mass hysterical survival response. It criticized definitions of merit as implicitly sex biased, class biased, and race biased. It even criticized fairy tales.

When this movement criticized rape, it meant rapists and the point of view that saw rape as sex. When it criticized prostitution, it meant pimps and johns and the point of view that women are bom to sell sex. When it criticized incest, it meant those who did it to us, and the point of view that made our vulnerability and enforced silence sexy. When it criticized battery, it meant batterers, and the point of view that violence expressed the intensity of love. Nobody thought that in criti­cizing these practices, the movement was criticizing their victims.

It also criticized sacred concepts from the standpoint of women's material existence, our reality, concepts like choice. It was a movement that knew when material conditions preclude 99 percent of your op­tions, it is not meaningful to call the remaining 1 percent— what you are doing— your choice. This movement was not taken in by concepts like consent. It knew that when force is a normalized part of sex, when no is taken to mean yes, when fear and despair produce acquiescence and acquiescence is taken to mean consent, consent is not a meaning­ ful concept.

This movement also criticized concepts that we took and made our own, like equality. It knew that the way equality had been defined was premised not only on a meaningless symmetry, an empty equivalence, but also that it was defined according to a male standard. It knew the limits of being told you could either be the same as men or different from men. If you were the same as men, you were equal to their stan­ dards; if you were different from men, you were different from their standards. This movement said if that was equality, we didn't want it.

It also criticized the ruling concept of freedom, especially sexual freedom, unpacked and unmasked it as a cover for the freedom to abuse. When people with power defended their oppression of women as free­ dom, this movement knew it was the thrill of their power they were defending. This was a movement that was critical of the freedom to oppress, not one that thought women would be free when we had more of it.

Some intrepid spirits even criticized love, saying that it was a lust for self-annihilation that bound women to their oppression. And, even­ tually and at great cost, some criticized sex, including the institution of intercourse as a strategy and practice in subordination.

Implicit in all these criticisms was a criticism of abstraction as a strat­ egy in male hegemony. This was a movement that always wanted to know where the women were, substantively. Where was women s "choice"? Where was women's "consent"? Where was equality as women define it? What did freedom for women mean? As we criticized male reality in this movement that was, we always looked for the prick in the piece. We found that abstractions were a coverup for the gendered reality that was really going on. On this basis, this movement pro­ duced a systematic, relentless, deeply materially based and empirically rigorous critique of the male-dominated reality of women's lives and the glossy abstractions that made it seem not male-dominated. It un­ covered, in this process, deep connections between race, class, and sexual oppression, and pursued them not as an afterthought, not as a

footnote, not as a list, but because they were essential. This was a movement that said that every issue was a women's issue and every place was a woman's place."

Liberalism and the Death of Feminism, Catharine A. MacKinnon

From The Sexual Liberals and the Attack on Feminism, 1990, edited by Dorchen Leidholdt and Janice G. Raymond

[whentherewerebicycles]

went to the woods at sunset last night with my mom and did a hard sad little ritual of closure that hurt me a lot but also felt like painfully needed closure. we both cried so much I feel dehydrated still but it was good and I’m so glad I asked my mom to come instead of doing it alone like I originally thought I wanted to. I was afraid I’d feel embarrassed and stupid with someone else watching but I just felt so deeply loved and held. then I came home and wrote about it for a long time and read this book on pregnancy loss until late. the book is making me cry too but in a good meaningful way. I feel like the most important thing it’s given me is a clearer understanding of how almost every part of the loss was made more acutely distressing and difficult to grieve by the way doctors and techs talked to me and about me with each other in my presence. my surgical team was good and took the time to say they were sorry this was happening to me but leading up to that there was just so much casual thoughtless cruelty that I’m sure no one intended to be cruel but made me feel so, so bad and empty and alone, like I wasn’t even a person. like I will never for as long as I live forget the feeling of being hunched over in the table in the dark undressed from the waist down with tears streaming down my face under my mask right after the radiologist confirmed the diagnosis, and then the tech turning to put something away and telling me in the brightest, most excited voice that in ten years of doing ultrasounds she’d “never seen a live one before!”, which was how I learned that the baby had a heartbeat. but then I will also never in my entire life forget the other ultrasound tech, who was the one person in that entire awful prolonged experience who called it the little baby instead of the adnexal mass or the ectopic and who asked me if I wanted to see it and then sat with me in silence for a long, long time so I could look at the screen for as long as I needed to. I really deeply get that this is politically complicated territory where as a medical professional you don’t want to assume that the pregnancy was planned/wanted or that someone is experiencing the loss as a loss or that the person feels like the baby was a baby, but as my sister pointed out, everyone involved knew that I had gotten pregnant after multiple cycles of IUI and no one does that unless it’s a badly wanted pregnancy. idk the book has all these quotes from other women where they describe things I also heard doctors saying to/about me and they share how small or alone it made them feel and it’s just making me feel this weirdly intense sense of relief like oh ok I get it. this was always going to be hard and fraught and sad but if people had been just a little more sensitive or careful with their words or attuned to me as a suffering human being it could have been clean grief from the start instead of grief all twisted up in shame and embarrassment and feeling like I wasn’t even supposed to feel sad.

there isn’t a silver lining to all of this, it’s just a hard sad thing that happened to me and that I am finding a way to live with. but during that second awful ultrasound, the one that made me feel so empty and lonely, I remember lying on the table staring up at the ceiling just thinking and praying that if this thing had to happen to me that it would lead me towards deeper compassion, that it would in time make me a gentler, more caring, more open person instead of someone all locked up inside with shame and grief. and I think that in time it will. I feel like at the very least I can be a better friend to the people I love if something like this happens to them. the book talks about how for many people it can be healing to reflect on the positive ways even a brief pregnancy changed you and to think of that as a gift or a legacy that the pregnancy left you with—not like the changes are a consolation prize but just like, it can be very healing to infuse your loss with a deeper sense of purpose and meaning so it feels like it was real and it mattered and it changed you. it was real and it mattered and it changed me. and that is something I will carry with me.

anyway those are just some things I am thinking about this morning. long road long road but I am walking it.

[bubblepopsims]

The silence was becoming quite frankly unbearable. So Rafael took it upon himself like he usually does when a new coworker joins in on their once a week night of drinks at the lounge. You start drinking.

R: Anybody care for a drink?" Emillie raised a brow as Rafael stood up. Examining him from his hair down to what she could see. “I can physically see why Maddi is smitten.. but what is the emotional level between these two?” "i would appreciate one.." Rafael turned to Maddi and without even thinking took her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up to meet her eyes. R: "and you ?"

Maddi's face instantly became flushed, leaning into the subtle touch without a second thought. Emillie knew Maddi well, knew when she was grumpy, sick, annoyed, happy, feral. But this was different.. Maddi wasn’t just looking at him like she looks at strawberry shortcake (which is her favorite) but more like someone she saw something with.. something meaningful.

Maddi leaned more into Rafael’s touch and gave him a small smile. M: "yes please..." R: "i'll be right back." he said loud enough for only her to hear and gently ran his thumb across her bottom lip. Emillie sat back just observing and quite frankly the sight of the two of them put her in deep thought. "Maddi has never acted so soft before.. so gentle.. girly? no... just.. in aw? no... i think Maddi is for once actually.. in love..." Rafael left not moments after His and Maddi's subtle yet intense encounter and drifted off to the Self served bar Leaving a blushing Maddi with Emillie.

the second Rafael was out of sight Maddi turned to Emillie with a wide smile "annndddd??" Emillie huffed and grinned widely at her "you really like him... i mean I'm sorry but who are you right now? its like i am looking at a different person.” Emillie quickly waved her hands at a bunched up brow Maddi. “ its not a bad thing!" Maddi scrunhed her face up more but quickly relaxed knowing that Emillie was right..

M: “you’re right..” Emillies eyes widened and sat up immediately

E: “what did you say?”

Maddi sighed “You’re right.”

E: “Holy shit so i did. hear that correctly.. holy shit.”

Maddi groaned and narrowed her eyes at emillie who in her defense held her hands up

M: “don’t over do it! Emillie laughed and nodded her head slowly. "i know.. i Know im sorry.. it’s just quite frankly shocking. This whole thing. It’s almost as if you are in lo- oh? Seems to me like Rafael has been caught by Juju."

Juju was telling Rafael how handsome he was and so gentleman like..

J: “you and my fiancé would be friends.”

Izzi looked across the table at the same time Rafael did. The both stared at each other a good while as if they were having their own silent conversation, before Izzi smirked and nodded.

I: “i like him. He passed.”

Rafael huffed lightly and took a sip of his drink. “I am glad I passed.”

Juju giggled and waved her arms around happily “are you coming to our wedding??” Izzi looked at juju and laughed

I: “i do apologize for my future stunning absolutely gorgeous wife, she quite frankly hasn’t stopped talking about it and has asked random strangers to come.”

Juju frowned “hey don’t make him feel less special! After all he is maddis boyfriend.”

Rafael almost choked on his drink and quickly swallowed it ready to say something but juju cut him off with a smirk “truth.”

This took Rafael by surprise “how did she?” He looked over at Izzi who just casually shimmed a bit in their seat to the music.

R: “I am not.. but I wouldn’t mind it.” He answered truthfully. “Quite frankly she has been on my mind more than usual lately.”

J: “How did you guys meet.”

R: “we were pen pal friends.”

Juju gasped and wiggled happily in her seat “wait that is so cuteeeee!! Oh you are so cute and she is so cute! And you guys are cute together!”

Rafael lightly bowed his head “thank you.. I know she will appreciate that a lot.”

J: “i think we found the one my love.”

Izzi laughed and nodded slowly “the night is still young.”

J: “i don’t Care I am rooting for them.” Previous - next

[yanderes-galore]

Prompts Found Here

Yeah, I can do this! Sorry for the long wait, was unsure of plot.

Decided to try a yandere who knows if they force anything, you'll hate them. So they're trying to warn you somewhat.

Yandere Sanford Prompts 1 + 9

"I don't care how many times it takes to get through to you, I'll make you realize how much I love you."

"You'll learn to love me."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Attempted forced relationship, Murder mention, Intimidation, Sanford is trying to be patient, Most of the yandere behavior is kinda hidden in this. You can only see slight slips of it on purpose.

Love is not that common in modern day Nevada. Once everything turned to madness, all the people ever knew were two things; violence and survival.

Even Sanford vaguely recalled the love he experienced in his life. The sweet and nurturing love he recieved from his mother. After that, it was stored in the back of his mind.

Sanford had felt companionship from Deimos and felt safe that Hank was on his side. He never felt that same kind of love with them, though. No... he cared for them but didn't love them.

It wasn't until the group rescued an injured grunt that he felt it. Love thrummed softly through him when he met you. After that, he felt he had to take care of you.

Sanford knew 2B would heal your wounds, but he felt he had to help too. He calmed you on the way to 2B and even offered to bandage your wounds. To you, he came off as kind and caring.

After that you worked with the group as thanks. Sanford became the closest with you. His feelings only ever grew more intense... but you were unaware of his more violent jealousy behind closed doors.

Sanford begged to differ.

Your feelings towards him were never all that intense. Like with Deimos and Hank, you cared for him. You felt there was no time for love in a world like this, however.

Sanford felt there could be something really meaningful between you. He wanted there to be. Deep down that rough and tough exterior, Sanford wanted stability...

He wanted to experience love again...

You were his key to it.

"You'll learn to love me."

He never wanted to be forceful with you. It's just, when you've had to deal with violence all day, it's hard to experience that gentle love. Especially if your chosen partner keeps refusing.

You keep saying you can't love him. He's a companion but you can't love him romantically. He believes you can...

You just don't want to.

"Sanford, please just listen to me-"

"It'll be the best for both of us! We need each other. In a world like this..."

"Our love can't work."

Your words bring him to silence. He looks at you through his glasses. You're standing with him in an empty room, the door locked for privacy. He then sighs in slight frustration.

What do you know about the love between you if you keep refusing it?

"... My feelings won't change."

"You can't force mine either, Sanford."

"I don't want to force things..."

He takes a deep breath. He was always the emotional one of the group. You only ever made him more vulnerable.

He then backs you up to the wall. He large stature intimidates you and you comply. He puts his large hands on your shoulders and squeezes softly. His words are understanding, his actions are not.

He takes the chance to land a kiss. Not quite on your lips but beside your cheek. An action to show he adores you, yet is willing to wait.

"But I don't care how many times it takes to get through to you, I'll make you realize how much I love you in the end."

You're right... it can't be forced if he wants you to love him.

He's willing to wait a bit longer but he wants you to understand his love is genuine. He pulls away, a soft smile on his face before walking you to the door.

"I just hope you love me in the end."

Sanford sighs, allowing you to leave. You're on edge, saying a quick goodbye before fleeing. When you're gone Sanford frowns.

He knows someday he'll obtain your love. What upsets him is what he might need to do to get it. If you don't love him... he isn't sure if he can handle it.

How long will it be until he snaps and takes you?

He's already been killing for you... hopefully you accept him soon...

If not for his sake, yours.

[perverse-idyll]

PI!! Congrats on the fest fic! Also: sending you all the luck and love this holiday season. I'm sure you'll be swamped, if you aren't already! Take it easy and take your time with those WIPs! Though as a big ole fangirl, please talk to me about The Afterlight, because I'm terribly obsessed with it! 🙈

Thank you, Danni! 🥰 Luck and love sound like something we could all use, so I wish you the same! Plus freedom from the shadow that last year's betrayal cast over you and the long-term issues of broken trust and self-doubt they left behind. *hugs*

The Afterlight, oh dear, it's one of my long, rambling, melodramatic stories, like Impossible Without It and The Blood of Stars (which I hadn't look at in ages until a week or so ago when I re-read the ending - it has three of them, like movie version Return of the King - and I almost hid my face in utter embarrassment at how over the top it is). But The Afterlight started out as a "came back wrong" idea that evolved into more of a "came back haunted" story, where the experience of having been dead hangs over Harry and Snape's attempts to create meaningful lives, and it only gets more reckless and obsessive once they get tangled up together - ugh, I'm not explaining this well. So here, have a snippet instead:

Snape had circled around to the other side of the bed. This was Harry's second shock. For weeks, he'd been so focussed on pushing Snape through his convalescence that he'd adjusted to the way he looked now, the ravages of exhaustion and illness hollowing him out until you could see through the surface to what burned inside, the emotions that flickered and glowed through parchment-paper wrappings.

The Snape standing over his sickbed was sleep-deprived and black-robed and positively volcanic, but whole. Over the sound of memory-Harry's laboured breathing, he suddenly said, "No." There was a moment's silence, as if Snape expected Harry to react. Then he leaned over and snarled the next words, swore them, spat them, as if cursing Harry with the Darkest possible magic he could muster from the depths of his soul.

"No. You don't get to do this. You made me love you, Potter. You don't get to do that and then leave me."

The furious anguish in Snape's voice was instantly recognisable, and a strange, sore anger passed through Harry, almost a sense of schadenfreude, at being witness to his honesty. The poisonous intensity of Snape's passion sent an illicit thrill through him, the thrill of being wanted so much, even though being loved in that way, by someone like Snape, was probably not a good thing.

But this was what Snape had removed? This admission of his feelings? Snape's courage was as bitter as everything else about him, yet this mental theft seemed the act of a coward. Had Snape been so deadset against exposing to Harry not just his heart, but his change of heart, that he'd considered it necessary to rob him of every trace? Why not just Obliviate him?

[katelynn-a-fan]

Crackle of Your Voice Chapter 10

Masterlist

Spread out before him was a truly awe-inspired sight that took their breath away. A majestic range of mountains stretched out as far as the eye could see, with the very peak they stood on nestled among them. Below, a vast sea of trees carpeted the landscape, their foliage creating the illusion of a rippling ocean made of bark, branches, and leaves. The peaceful scene was momentarily shattered by the bustling city sprawled out at the foot of the mountains, its structures appearing infinitesimal from their point of view. Cars moved along the roads like even tinier specks, hardly larger than a tic tac on a football field from the perspective of the mountaintop observers.

Patton spoke first “Wow. . . this s. . .”

“Breathtaking.” Roman finished for Patton, peeking at Patton, lips parting, leaning towards Patton slowly, glancing at Patton’s eyes for any hesitancy, when he found none, he let his head fall onto Patton’s shoulder. In the act of doing that, it brought both Roman and Patton’s bodies closer together, their respective legs pressing against each other without either of them meaning to. But neither of them moved, looking content with where they were. Though Patton did move, just enough to place a hand on Roman’s, Roman’s smile deepened when they touched, not taking his eyes off the view. Roman took it one step further, grabbing Patton’s hand and linking their fingers together. Roman brought both of their hands up to leverage himself then to his mouth, placing a kiss on Patton’s lips.

Why do Roman’s lips feel human? Why does his grip feel like that? Why? 

They stayed like that for a while, snacking on their snacks and hydrating themselves after the exercise of getting to the view. Somewhere along the line Patton begun to hum, Roman closing his eyes every once and while, appearing to focus on the sound. After a long silence, Roman raised his head, biting back a big smile, eyes bright as he squeezed Patton’s hand.

“Hey, why don’t we go over there?” Roman pointed with his free hand over to a small outcropping to the side of the overlook. It was made out of a rock jutting out from the mountain, pointing up into the sky. Luckily, it wasn’t too steep, but it did taper off at a point.

Patton bit the inside of his cheek, rubbing his finger over Roman’s hand nervously.

“There’s no guard rail, Roman. One of us could fall! I don’t want that- I- We'll be super careful, right? We’ll-” Patton asked, hand suddenly gripping tight to Roman’s hand, but it was never enough to hurt.

But they can just fix him. Why is it always about Victor? Why does Roman- Why is he- Why? Why!

Roman gently lifted his head from where it rested on Patton's shoulder, a tender smile playing on his lips. He reached out to delicately tuck a loose strand of hair behind Patton's ear, causing Patton to inhale sharply, his lips parting slightly in response. Roman's voice lowered to a soft whisper as their faces drew closer, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. Their eyes locked in a silent but intense exchange, each seemingly lost in the depth of the other's gaze. The air around them seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, something pulling them closer with each passing heartbeat.

"Of course, my sunbeam, I would never want to worry you so," Roman reassured, his warm voice filled with tenderness as he gently held Patton close. He lingered there, just a hair's breadth away, conveying a sense of comfort and care in the quiet moment. After a beat, he leaned in and placed a sweet, almost fleeting kiss on Patton's lips, a gesture that spoke volumes in its simplicity and affection. Brief yet meaningful, a silent promise of love and reassurance in their shared moment.

Patton whined at how short the kiss was, but Roman was already pushing himself up, slowly stretching his legs, wincing a little but ultimately successfully. Patton and Roman are still holding hands, so Roman shifted backward a little as Patton got up as well, rolling his eyes at Patton’s pouty face when Patton’s steady, a low rumbling laugh that doesn’t pass though Roman’s lips in response.

What? Why is he doing that? Why am I letting him? Why is Roman not a ROBOT? Why? Why?! Why!

-

-

Patton bolted up in bed, his hand clutched to his chest. His breathing was coming in big whooping gasps.

What was that dream?

His hand slid to his forehead as the events of the past weeks flashed by in his head.

He and Roman had successfully maintained their ‘unsteady’ tie streak, just like a handful of the other gladiators.

-

“My hands are cramping up, R, I don’t think we can finish this scene before I slip up.” Patton had muttered in their last fight. Below them had been a faux pirate ship, swaying back and forth to emulate a ship on the high seas.

“Ok, measure up tie scenario… now.”

-

Patton and Roman had the tie scenarios down pat, with the propensity of Roman’s role allowing for some more wacky ties.

But it was as if his subconscious had decided that all of this effort was out of… 

He… He didn’t love Roman like that… Right?

So then why did the memory of that human Roman smiling at him like that make his heart flutter?

This is all happening too fast. I’ve barely known Roman for more than a month or two. So why…

Why did life without Roman seem so dull?

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary308

7/23-24/24

tuesday - wendesday

very good day, today...

a lovely time with my girlfriend, i thought someone else would be coming, she said she would and i was looking forward to that cuz she has been in china for a while teaching, but she did not, cuz jet lagged!! so i got to be alone w/ my gf all day while in the vegas china town zone, which is really just a bunch of strange strip malls. but i like it down there... lots of nostalgia but also good food and stuff. i had like,,, chicken katsu today that was like my first time ever eating it all over again. that was crazy... they make the panko in house, w/ shokupan, it made me kind of emotional, that's the first time food has ever done that. my gf got a crazy sandwich that had green tea bread, which seemed very good . the meat in it was chicken katsu as well.

we also went to this new location for a cafe chain she really likes, called suzuya... that was also delicious, maybe the best matcha latte in vegas + they had these insane mochi + matcha beignets, very insane flavor there, the mochi was kind of like super delicious + genius as a filling in the beignet, it's like post-jelly.

after that we just kind of wandered around a bit, it's very hot but it was just nice to be out with her all day, going to like, stupid stores with toys in them and stuff, we didn't really buy anything but i am glad we just stared at stuff together. maybe that sounds like meaningless or empty, to just like, walk around anonymous shops, but it's nice that we're in that vacuous region together. i mean i guess that's the classic 'making meaning'... it is very special though, i am reflection on all this a little more, being with her all day, getting home, sitting in the bed and watching dumb videos on instagram for toooo longgg (it's always too long but it's nice... honestly, just to be with her (though i also liked laying in silence with her a lot.)), because i was cooking and she was already in bed, and i realized how lonely that is, for one, and how much i miss being able to look over at her and see her doing her thing. just on the computer, watching whatever.

i don't know if i've ever gushed about her here like this, i don't think that's really how 'love' ever feels for me, not that it's not intense, but i like it as a process, but i never really go into it. because it's such a part of living...like breathing, basically, so i just carry on with it, do my best with it, as she does her best, sit in silence, speak, help eachother. it is so meaningful and heavy that it takes up all the air, it's just an atmosphere, i can't compare it to anything, so i'm just left with this fact that is difficult to explicated, beyond saying:

it is.

but it is, an arrow shot through time.

anyway... other stuff from today... i did take selfies but it's late now so i'll do that all tomorrow. tomorrow's errands day. anyway, i also did finish the drawing poem-ish thing-y:

it's funny ,,, it feels good to do stuff like this, even if i am definitely not very good at drawing (obv), but it helps me get better. also i did actually have another doll drawing done but i realized it looked so strange so i just did another, very quickly. i do prefer this one, like i said, it makes me improve!! which is what matters the most... i will say i think i have a good excuse for having obviously weird anatomy here, because the dolls are just weird looking generally. but i hope that's not something that actually needs explaining.

also, today, i found sd laika died. extremely awful and tragic news, he was one of the best to ever make music, i think, in that whole deconstructed club wave, plus his way of taking grime music and totally transforming it into this shambolic thing, it's so beautiful to me. hearing him in highschool really changed me, and honestly i'm far more gutted by this than i thought i'd be. i never even imagined his death. from what i know, his posting songs and then deleting them, he struggled with a lot, so i guess i get a sense why/how it happened... makes it much more sad.

rest in peace:

one of my favorite songs of his. very beautiful and strange stuff here.

maybe a strange thing to note, but i think part of why he worked so well for me, back then and now, he was so uniquely negative in his music, it really is gothic. take this song for instance:

the titles don't feel like, random little throwaway things, i mean they never are (they always color the music in some way) but they feel so pointed, and involved in the song, or maybe that's just the years i've had with this stuff putting that in my mind. the piano here, such a strange sound palette, it sounds so physical/present, it's a mutant drinking song, some kind of negating force from history, a great heaping muck-body thing emerging over a landscape.

what really bites about this death, is that he's been dead since last year, and it's only getting passed around now because people found it more recently on his lastfm page, a friend of his made the announcement. fucking tragic. he's been awol a long time, as well, nobody ever expected to hear from him again... what a nightmare.

such a desperate record, sonically. totally unique, i feel bad, that his death is doing so much to remind me of what his music was to me. that feels very fucked up of me. like i feel a little evil for it. this record was also something everyone had to hear, when it came out, the fact it made its way to me, crazy. nothing else like it, so futuristic, it's still futuristic.

maybe negative isn't the best word... well idk. i like it, it is negative music, but it's not music that suggests life is worthless or something, it's only just that the desperation of the music, his really exceptional melodic sense, and its physicality, the use of these digital failures, all the glitches, the inconstancy of the music, it's music which sort of acknowledges life as this thrashing thing, facing a horizon, and the reach/wriggling towards that horizon, hoping it will end, and all there really is, is the thrashing. nothing truly upwards, it's all body, it's all tragedy, but it affirms that, maybe its futurity is that it negates all teleology, music that moves through the wrestling with life. this makes it a little harder to listen to, at the same rate, it feels true to me, and part of why i was able to get so much out of it, music which hits that particular note, some kind of dancing amid despair, it is a very dear thing.

of course, if he were here seeing me say all this, he might feel it unfair to put all this on his music, this is just what comes out of him... the sounds he likes and things like that, it could all be intuitive. not that my read doesn't matter in the face of that just the strangeness of how anyone might feel having all that stuck to them. ultimately, i would just like to express some kind of love for what he did. i wonder if what it means to me means anything at all. i mean, no, it doesn't. but it's how i reach out and touch the thing itself at all, i guess.

otherwise, beyond the drawing and the lovely date and the cooking alone and the death, uhmmm, i mixed a couple of songs, i would like to write riffs soon though,,

but even sooner... i need to sleep. hopefully i can sleep okay tonight... last night was a little harder. basically i think i could have like a uti or something... i don';t want to get into the details of it but really i have no clue where i could have gotten anything like that. hopefully it is not a uti but it has to be something... unless this is just my life now... feeling like i have to pee always and not being able to pee.... that makes me contemplate dying. i hate that i seem to keep getting sick for no reason. what did i do to deserve this... probably a lot.

anyway i need to sleep soon . but since i am having the peeing trouble i will probably sit here a bit until i feel most comfortable to sleep. sucks.. . . .. blehhh , ..

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[adoringhaikyuu]

date night

pairing: atsumu x f!reader

summary: atsumu forgets about date night :/

warnings: a lil sad but not too bad

word count 1.1k

notes: this was inspired by this audio lol

at first you thought that he was just running late––it happened sometimes, that's just how he was. but as you watched the time pass by ––ten minutes, then twenty... by the hour mark, you'd given up.

he forgot. he forgot about the date night that you both planned in advance, weeks ago. atsumu had been so busy for the past few months, you were so excited to just have one night to each other, one night to have him all to yourself.

you dressed up nice, putting on your fanciest, sexiest dress and heels, you took your time to get ready, knowing this was a special night, the first night you'd go out with your boyfriend in a while. and it didn't happen.

the reservation was an hour ago, and atsumu was two hours late. you were contemplating going to bed when the door burst open to reveal atsumu, panting, eyes frantic and apologetic. "baby fuck, i'm so sorry––" he practically ran towards you, throwing off his jacket and kicking off his shoes haphazardly.

he ran his hands through his hair, trying to give you a small smile but you wouldn't look at him, choosing to focus, or rather pretend to focus on the tv. "it completely slipped my mind honey, i promise i didn't mean to blow you off––not that that makes it better..."

he was met with silence and his shoulders sunk as he stepped towards you hesitantly, his feet dragging like a small child. "c'mon baby i would never do that to you on purpose, i mean...look at you, i––god i'm a fucking idiot."

you nodded subtly but he didn't comment on it, his eyes still trailing along your body. your dress fit you perfectly, it accentuated all your best features and your shoes––you rarely wore shoes like that, though they were sexy, he knew they also hurt like a bitch, so the fact that you wore those for him and he didn't even show up? he had a lot of making up to do.

"baby doll please look at me, let me see those gorgeous eyes so you can see how sorry i am." he cursed quietly to himself, looking around for some sort of answer. "please don't ignore me princess."

you kept your eyes trained forward, your tongue in your cheek as you tried to calm yourself down, the frustration and disappointment still lingering in your mind, making your body buzz. you sighed, "i don't know what you want from me, atsumu."

you could see from the corner of your eye that he was pouting dramatically, eyes wide. "wh––atsumu? what happened to baby? or bub?" he got on his knees in front of you and placed his hands on your thighs but you looked to the side, not wanting to give in.

you crossed your arms, your voice quiet when you spoke up again. "where were you?"

you noticed him hesitate and scratch the back of his head nervously. "i––well i was with the boys baby and––"

you nodded your head and he paused, scared that he'd said the wrong thing, he didn't want to mess up even more tonight. "but as soon as i remembered i came running home." you got up, and walked past him but he was quick to stand up and follow you. "but you love the boys don't you?" he was trying to make the situation better any way he could, thinking that maybe if he reminded you that you liked them, and even considered them your own friends, you wouldn't be as upset––shit logic, he knows.

you kept walking until you made it to your bedroom, "yeah i do, but they're always with you, tsumu." tsumu, that was better than his full name. you glanced over your shoulder briefly, the hurt look in your eyes stopping him in his tracks for a brief moment. "i just wanted to be with you, for once. i just––can't remember the last time we had a night to ourselves. i missed you." fuck.

you made your way in front of your vanity, looking in the mirror as you reached up to take out your earrings when atsumu's hand gently wrapped around your wrist in mid-air. "wait wait," he brought your hand up to his face and kissed your wrist, pressing his cheek into your palm. "i'm so sorry babygirl, please don't get undressed, you look too good to let all this go to waste. let me take you out, show you off–"

you shook your head, "it's late."

he felt like crying, "but––"

you shook your head again, letting your hand drop to your side. "i'm tired, babe." you reached for your earrings again and this time he didn't stop you, watching you put them away in your jewelry box.

you walked over to your side of the bed and sat down and atsumu dropped back down on his knees, reaching to take your heels off for you. "i'll make it up to you tomorrow––i'll blow off practice and you'll have me all to yourself all twenty-four hours, promise."

you appreciated the effort but sighed, both from his words and the feeling of his hands gently massaging their way from the heel to the ball of your foot. you hadn't actually walked with them so your feet weren't hurting, but you weren't going to reject the massage. "you can't just skip, you're on a professional team."

he moved onto the other foot, bringing it up to kiss your ankle. "sure i can, i just won't go." he was serious as ever, yet you couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

you ran a hand through his hair and he smiled, content with the affection you were showing him. "you're really not gonna let this go, huh?"

he shook his head and kissed up one of your calves, his hand caressing the other. "of course not." he looked at you earnestly and you could tell he wasn't joking around. "i hurt my girl and i've gotta make it up to her." he leaned up on his knees between your legs and tilted his head up towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes. "kiss?"

you bit your lip and nodded, placing your hand on his cheeks to pull him in for a sweet kiss and he sighed, hands resting on your thighs. it wasn't like your usual passionate ones, it wasn't intense, it was short but meaningful, a reassurance. when you both pulled away, he looked at you, a warm gaze in his eyes. "i love you pretty girl, i will make this right, i swear."

[winnifredburkleismyhero]

The Voice of an Angel

The Voice of an Angel – (Chapter 1)

(Modern / Neighbor / Apartment AU)

Summary: After moving into a new place, Reader hears her neighbor (Eddie) singing, through the wall of the apartment. She knows the song, so she sings along. An unexpected duet ensues.

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Pronouns used: She/Her)

Warnings: Drinking is mentioned (Eddie / Reader are over 21) & mention of Cursing (no actual swearing)

Song Lyrics: Driving Nails by Demon Hunter

Author’s Note: I had this idea that Eddie is totally the type who sings in the shower. I love the idea of meeting someone for the first time without actually being able to see the person… like it’s mysterious and exciting. This was originally going to be a drabble or a one shot, but Eddie and Reader were just begging for more of a story than that. There will be some serious themes in later chapters, so definitely pay attention to the warnings on each chapter! As always, all mistakes are mine. And the photo edit is mine, made from pictures off of Pinterest.

Feedback is meaningful and appreciated!!! ❤️

(I do not consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app. If my work is found anywhere else but here, it has been reposted without my permission. )

Reader’s POV

New city, new apartment, new start? The little nondescript apartment complex on the northeast side of Indianapolis was as far from your home in North Manchester as you could get on your small budget. Looking up at the three story brick building, you sat in your car, willing your mind to let go of the past year. As you get out of the car, a warm fall breeze stirs your hair around your face, and you take a deep, steadying breath.

Hopefully, you pick up the last box from next to your beat up little car, and head up the outside stairs, walking down the corridor past the door of your new neighbor. Coming into your new home, you feel a little overwhelmed. Shutting the front door with a sigh, you gazed around at the stacks of boxes in your new living room, trying to decide which room in the two bedroom apartment to start unpacking first.

Finding a box labeled ‘Bathroom’, you headed down the hallway and turned on the light in the small bathroom. Sitting down on the faded linoleum tile floor with the box in front of the cupboard under the sink, you slice open the box and start pulling your stuff out. As you organize the things under the sink, you notice that over the sounds of creaky pipes and running water you can hear music, like someone singing. Loudly. In the shower maybe. Probably whoever lives in the apartment directly next to yours.

I was the light / I was the quiet heart / I was the place we used to dwell. / And when the cold would tear your life apart, / I was the warmth that you had felt

The voice is male, rich and full, loud yet soulful, and as you listen, you realize that you know the song your new neighbor is singing. Interesting that you’ve moved in next to someone who knows the metal band Demon Hunter. His voice makes you shiver a bit, intense but hypnotizing, making the song seem new and exciting to you. Humming along to yourself as you organize your stuff in the cupboard, you get a little lost in the lyrics.

What have I become? / Thoughts like shadows swelling through my mind. / What have I become? / Something else inside… / It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. / Driving nails into my soul / Something inside…

Impulsively, you decide that you’ll join in singing when he gets to the second verse. Closing your eyes, tilting your head back, and lifting your voice to belt out the next words along with him, you sing:

I was the blood inside your broken heart / I was the stone that you had held

You hear a thud, like something was dropped, a few grumbled curse words, the water shuts off, then silence. Afraid of losing your nerve, you continue the song…

What have I become? /Thoughts like shadows swelling through my mind. / What have I become? / Something else inside… / It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. / Driving nails into my soul / Something else inside...

His voice joins yours again, tentatively at first, then louder. You smile to yourself as his voice blends with yours.

It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. Driving nails into my soul / Something inside…

It’s a strangely intimate experience, sharing a duet with a mysterious stranger, separated only by a thin apartment wall. You feel a little bit better now, less lonely maybe. Music has always been one of the constants in your life, especially when things got tough. As the song is ending, you wonder what he is like, this metalhead neighbor of yours. You wonder if it’ll be awkward to meet him after singing with him.

I close my eyes / Search for you / Retracing every step

Maybe it’s easier to connect when you can’t see the other person. You don’t exactly have the best luck with men or relationships. Is this weird for him too? You muse to yourself as you finally empty the packing box in your lap.

It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. Driving nails into my soul / Something inside…

Standing up to go back to the living room, you and your neighbor finish the last refrain of the song. His sweet voice gives you goosebumps, the good kind that you often get when listening to music. In fact, if you wanted to be cliché about it, you would swear he had a voice like honey.

Nails into my soul / Angels from my door. Driving nails into my soul / Something else inside… It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. Driving nails into my soul / Something inside.

How were you to know that you’d be moving in next to a guy with the voice of an angel?

Eddie’s POV

Eddie Munson had had quite a long day at the garage, where he’d worked for the last five years. A long day full of noise and stress and hard work. Parking his van next to a beat up little car that he didn’t recognize, he headed up the stairs to his second floor apartment. He wanted nothing more than a shower, a beer, and a quiet evening alone at home. Dropping his keys and phone on the kitchen counter, he opened the fridge and grabbed a can. Popping the top of his beer, he made his way back to the bedroom at the end of the hall.

Eddie kicked off his shoes in the direction of his closet, shed his grimy, greasy work clothes, and headed to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he lets the water get hot and then steps into the tub, taking his drink with him. Standing directly under the stream, as the water runs through his long brown curls, he hummed to himself, then started singing:

I was the light / I was the quiet heart / I was the place we used to dwell. / And when the cold would tear your life apart, / I was the warmth that you had felt

He loved the acoustics of singing metal in the shower, as the hot water washed away everything from the day. Just filling the small bathroom with the sound of music, drinking his beer, and relaxing.

What have I become? / Thoughts like shadows swelling through my mind. / What have I become? / Something else inside… / It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. / Driving nails into my soul / Something inside…

Suddenly a strong, sweet, emotional female voice, coming from the apartment directly next to his, is belting out the next words of the song…

I was the blood inside your broken heart / I was the stone that you had held

Thud! Startled, Eddie drops his can of beer, curses, and picks up his drink. Then he shuts off the shower and stands there in stunned silence. Thinking he was hearing things, he waits until you continue the song…

What have I become? /Thoughts like shadows swelling through my mind. / What have I become? / Something else inside… / It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. / Driving nails into my soul / Something else inside...

He starts singing again, joining in with your lovely voice. He grins to himself as the two of you sing together.

It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. Driving nails into my soul / Something inside…

He hadn’t realized that anyone had actually moved in next door, much less a fellow metal lover. A girl who shares his taste in music is definitely not what he was expecting. He is convinced he has to meet her. As soon as possible. But he doesn’t want the song to end. How to even introduce himself? He wraps himself in his towel and steps out of the tub.

I close my eyes / Search for you / Retracing every step

Excitement rushes through him as the song comes to its final chorus. Grinning at his blurry reflection in the foggy mirror, he decides that this is so much better than a quiet evening. He grabs a smaller towel and squeezes the water out of his curly hair.

It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. Driving nails into my soul / Something inside…

There’s something about sharing a song with someone else. He can’t even explain it aloud, it’s something he feels inside. Closing his eyes, listening to you. Plus it definitely doesn’t hurt that your voice reminds him of the stars above. And he’d give just about anything to hear it again.

Nails into my soul / Angels from my door. Driving nails into my soul / Something else inside… It’s driving nails into my soul / Angels from my door. Driving nails into my soul / Something inside.

He simply can’t wait to meet you, his new neighbor, who has the voice of an angel.

Eddie Munson Taglist:

@sweetpeapod

@saramelaniemoon

@eponaartemisa

@onehotgreasymechanic

@apolixyan

(Chapter 2 is out now! Read it at the link below!)