#what are they capable of and would they do it

[all-by-myself98]

OK I'm gonna rant for a second

When I was sick with covid last Feb, I watched the Malcolm X movie and I mentioned the Angela Bassett phenomenon in a Letterboxd review I was basically like.

This woman has such an interesting range of works. Not a predictable range like from comedies to actions to horrors. But like from what would be considered high brow vs low brow film and TV.

She's done like the serious Oscar tier kinda shit like the Tina Turner biopic, Boyz n the Hood, the Malcolm X movie as I mentioned, and a lot of other like. Really successful really like. The kinda shit that might be considered high brow or like. cinema shit, you know? Shit that wins awards and stays in people's minds because of how highly regarded it is

And then she's kinda gradually tapered off of that, which is fine! I think if I was an actress and I had a shit ton of success earlier in my career, I might also branch off and look at other projects. A lot of the stuff she's been in nowadays isn't really classified as high brow. It's mostly drama television or cartoons or, of course, action stuff. Like there was Meet the Robinsons, there was American Horror Story, there was fucking. ER! She was in ER for like two years(?) as a main role! And then of course that itty bitty foray in the failed Green Lantern movie, and then her actual success with the Black Panther movies.

Like... They're less dramatically intense, more just. Fun! She got her bag of money early on and now she's doing whatever the fuck she wants which is so valid of her, I would do the same thing if I ever went into that line of business. Earn your security, then have fun and do what you want!

And honestly this might not have even been her intent. There could have been other stuff going on. Her wiki link mentioned that after her Tina Turner biopic she wasn't getting any calls for roles for like a year and a half. So maybe people were just being idiots and skipping over her, maybe there was some dumb fucked up Hollywood politics involved, or maybe she's genuinely letting herself have fun with her roles now, OR maybe she noticed that there's just as much integrity and potential in a role like Athena Grant or Queen Ramonda or Marie Laveau than there is in her earlier character counterparts.

Again, this is also relying on this backwards and outdated idea of high brow vs low brow film and television. I don't subscribe to these ideas, and I think it's low-key kinda ridiculous and I think people should just have fun watching what they want without feeling like what they want to watch isn't good enough or doesn't command the same respect... But sadly other people do absolutely subscribe to these ideas and you can tell because it's difficult not to notice a difference in the tone or nuance of two different works, and why some works are not nominated for awards as much as others because some Hollywood awards panel either don't see it as serious or as respectable enough to be in with the so called "big leagues".

All visual work is valid and all visual work is capable of eliciting the emotions they need to elicit to keep their audiences hooked.

ANYWAYS that's the end of my little blab

I love Angela Bassett and whatever is the reason for her shift in her filmography, girl you are not gonna hear me complain one bit. As long as she's happy, I'm happy for her. I just find it fascinating to think about is all

And thus. The Angela Bassett phenomenon (copyright pending)

trying to understand a show you don’t watch only through gifs you see on your dash

[notrebdomine]

Eric Harris medication

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As most people know, Eric was on Luvox, but before Luvox he took Zoloft. "In a visit to his general physician, Eric's medical records indicate "possible depression" and "mild/ minimal depressive symptoms." In small words, both (Luvox and Zoloft) are SSRI, or "selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor." It increases the amount of serotonin, sometimes called the "feel good" chemical, in the brain.

The first Luvox prescription listed by Breggin comes on April 25, 1998 for twenty-five milligrams. It was doubled to fifty milligrams just over a month later, and doubled again another month later, in early July. Breggin writes that three and a half months before Columbine, the prescriptions indicate Eric's dose was increased. Breggin also writes that on March 13, 1999, just over one month before Columbine, the medical record notes, "It's 'OK' to increase the dose to 200 mg. per day."

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His point of view about taking medication

Eric would go through periods of taking his medication and going off of it. Below is a journal entry that he wrote in regards to his thoughts on being put on medication.

"My doctor wants to put me on medication to stop thinking about so many things and to stop getting angry. well, I think that anyone who doesn't think like me is just bullshitting themselves. try it sometime if you think you are worthy, which you probably will you little shits, drop all your beliefs and views and ideas that have been burned into your head and try to think about why your here. but I bet most of you fuckers cant even think that deep, so that is why you must die. how dare you think that I and you are part of the same species when we are sooooooo different. you aren't human you are a Robot. you don't take advantage of your capabilities given to you at birth. you just drop them and hop onto the boat and head down the stream of life with all the other fuckers of your type. well god damnit I wont be a part of it! I have thought to much, realized to much, found out to much, and I am to self aware to just stop what am thinking and go back to society because what I do and think isn't "right" or "morally accepted" NO, NO, NO, God Fucking damnit NO! I will sooner die than betray my own thoughts. but before I leave this worthless place, I will kill who ever I deem unfit."

Original from his journal, page #6 ↴

In reality, many of Eric's views were a result of his mental health problems, so in that way, he was right that the medication may change his views, but failed to see that it could be a good thing. He also says in one of his personal tapes, "When I don't take my medication it makes me angry. It's working."

He had some problems with the military concerning his status of medication as well, lying about or simply not mentioning his taking of anti-depressants to his recruiter during his medical examination.

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Ch. 109: Is Donovan Desmond an Alien?

No, he's not.

Although Endo could go the "alien" route, given the story, I doubt that he will.

The human mind is fascinating. So, a better explanation for Melinda's declaration is that this is the way she's dealing with her fear. It's not normal to be scared of her husband; she knows that. So, what would be a good reason to be afraid of him? Of course, that it's not really him, that he's an alien!

Her mind is trying to protect her. Anxiety is a way to protect us, and a lot of the times the mind throws strange fears and phobias to distract us from the real problem. In this case, it's her marriage. She's clearly in an abusive relationship and she wants out, but probably she can't divorce that man because of many reasons.

My guess is that Donovan Desmond changed after the war and because of that, their marriage deteriorated to the point of becoming an abusive relationship.

Before, I used to think that the marriage between Donovan and Melinda was a marriage of convenience, but now I think there was affection between them. It's hard to accept that someone you love has become abusive, so Melinda, who is into the occult, probably found an explanation (or more like a justification) for it. It's easier for her to think that someone she loves is an alien than for her to accept her husband is violent towards her and their children.

A lot of her mental health problems would probably be solved by a divorce, so she wouldn't be under her husband's control. However, given her status and the times (divorce was not very socially acceptable back in the 60s), she probably thinks divorce is not an option. On top of everything, her children are in the middle of it.

It's a complicated situation.

About Twilight

A good therapist would never tell their patient what to do. Their job is to help the person see the things they cannot see, and to empower them to make the best decision for them.

Twilight is not a therapist but he is a smart man. I think that he'll be capable of seeing what's behind Melinda's alien theory. The question is: what will he do with that information?

The most convenient thing for Operation Strix would be a reconciliation with Donovan Desmond. That would be the fastest way for Twilight to finally reach Desmond. However, that would also put Melinda at risk. Twilight is a spy, but he's also a human being, and most importantly, someone who has gone through domestic abuse as a child. So, I would like to think that even if he feels tempted to push Melinda into a reconciliation, he won't.

But, we'll see...

[lawofangie]

not sure how many times i'll need to keep saying this. so, i am going to break down the law of assumption as much as possible (as much as i have the patience for lol). i need you guys to understand for once and for all. this is simple. manifestation is simple.

the law of assumption is a law that requires you to MAKE ASSUMPTIONS. not to hope, not to wish, not to want. to assume.

and what is an assumption? something you believe to be true without proof. in the context of manifestation, something you believe to be true prior to receiving the proof (your manifestation materializing) in order to receive the proof.

making an assumption is not restricted to just whatever you want to manifest. why? because "manifestation" isn't fundamentally real. it's a word used to describe utilizing assumptions in a conscious way in order to "make something happen" externally.

this means that assuming has no bounds. and it doesn't. if you can assume anything is true, then your belief has no bounds. therefore, you can manifest anything. not just your desires, but things being difficult, things taking time, needing something or else ____.

an assumption is just an assumption. all given meaning aside, it's just an assumption. something you believe to be true, the "without proof" is just used in the context of what we call "manifestation", and manifestation just means the appearance of something. we are making assumptions in order for them to appear. there are no conditions, restrictions, rules, etc. you can believe absolutely anything to be true.

this way of using this ability to assume in order to make something materialize was just given the name "manifestation". its not some magical thing. it's just done in a conscious way and someone chose to give it that name.

but anyway, you are always going to be the one doing the assuming. it is always going to be up to you because nobody outside of you is doing the believing/ assuming here. YOU have to be the one to assume. you can't ask someone else to do it for you. nobody else is physically capable of doing it for you.

trying to ask someone for their input is useless. they're going to be affected by whatever biases you had about them prior anyway (ex: "they're smart" "i have to listen to them" "this person is unreliable"). everything is affected by whatever bias, assumptions, beliefs you have about it/them prior to experiencing them in your reality.

no matter how much you want to, you can't give up the control you have over your reality. you can't look to someone or something for permission, control, etc. all you have is yourself. all you should want is yourself. could you imagine how scary it would be if someone or something else truly dictated the course of your life? you'd be like a sim. that person or thing could literally do whatever they wanted to you. they could choose what you do and don't deserve. they could choose what happens in your life. why would you even want this? why are you so adamant on deciding this is true?

you have to acknowledge the fact that you are willingly or blindly giving up control because you are a coward. you're too scared to take control of your life and accept the truth, so you basically delude yourself into thinking that all these things have some kind of control over you.

it's like you guys never realize that all these conditions have to first be conditions in order for them to be conditions. they don't fundamentally exist.

if something doesn't fundamentally exist, that means it isn't real. it was created by us with something we were given (ex: our ability to communicate using language and creating "rules", and instilling the rules into the minds of others.)

they have no reason to exist if there is nothing to condition. if these things were fundamentally true, you wouldn't need to be conditioned. you wouldn't be able to change your mind, you wouldn't be being told to change your mind and adopt a new way of thinking. you wouldn't have the freedom to choose what you want to believe. you wouldn't need to accept it as true. it would just be true. like how we all know we need oxygen to survive. there's no question about it. it's not drilled into your head. its a proven fact with actual consequences. logic tells you it causes immediate discomfort and can cause fainting, therefore, you need to breathe.

logic doesn't tell you that you aren't in control of your reality. it's just something someone got you to believe. and you'll realize that your beliefs feel so real, that you don't question them, even when you know logically that you're being a little irrational. it's because belief is fundamentally real. it's an ability we all have, that we all use daily.

belief doesn't have feelings or emotions. belief is indifferent. you, the believer, are the one believing and deciding things are true. you, the believer, are the one assigning meanings and feelings to each belief. you, the believer, are the one believing things are true without proof. you, the believer, are the one receiving the proof of whatever you believe (blindly or not).

what is there to believe without you? what is there to condition without you? what meaning is there without you? without you there is nothing. again, this is your life. your human experience. yours. not your mom's, not your teacher's, not your boss's. yours. without you, it doesn't exist. you must be aware of things first in order for them to exist in your reality.

you only have one awareness because you are one person. you are only conscious of being one person. you are only conscious of your own life. you only experience one reality because you have one consciousness. but it is not permanent. you have the freedom of choice to choose a new reality, to be conscious of something new. your imagination does not restrict you to feeling only what is in front of you. if it did, what would be the purpose of imagining anyway? why would you even be mentally capable of imagining?

since only you can be conscious, and since only you can be conscious, we are advising you to take advantage of that and "manifest" what you want. no one and nothing can stop you, again, unless you allow it to. but you'll realize, you always have the choice. we as humans aren't set in one way of thinking. we are human beings with depth, feelings, desires, emotions, goals, dreams, fears, doubts, and competence. we have the ability to take in new information, form new thoughts, and grow. we are perfectly capable of and competent enough to form our own beliefs and assumptions.

and you can't turn off this ability to imagine. you can't stop believing, you can't stop assuming, you can't stop being aware (except for when you're asleep). the "law of assumption" doesn't care about your feelings. the law of assumption isn't a living thing. it's just something that's there, that's a part of life. we just happen to be competent enough to have the choice to consciously use it and to be aware of it. nothing is being taken from you, maybe information is has been withheld from you, but that's about it.

so, what is manifestation? how do i manifest? assume you have it.

yes, i broke down that entire thing just to tell you to just assume, to just decide. why? because that's all there is to it. just assume it is true regardless of what you see. because your external reality is nothing but a mirror. it can't prove anything to you that you haven't already proved to yourself.

all anyone in this community can do (thankfully) is regurgitate the same information in different ways until you guys understand it. the law is simple. "the law" isn't fundamentally real, it's just a title created by someone.

also, please don't misunderstand me here. the law of assumption isn't fake. it works. the "law of assumption", referring to the title, is a "law", but is a concept that was built on, with terms that were created by others. this is just to say that you guys give external things so much power over you just because of some title, some created authority, when in actuality, it isn't fundamentally real. all these terms make it all feel unnatural. the law of assumption isn't an unnatural thing. it's simply making assumptions.

so, if you can follow, what i'm saying is: just because the law of assumption is called "the law of assumption" or mentions an instruction, doesn't mean it's some foreign, scary thing. there isn't any separation. this isn't anything new. don't treat it as something it's not. this is just to remind you, that while you abide by them, they aren't above you. they don't change anything about who you are as a person, there is nothing to fear, nothing to learn, nothing to put on a pedestal. it's just a guideline, if you want to call it that. a step. you should be indifferent to it. treat it as a necessary step and nothing more.

the law of assumption is simple. make an assumption. believe something is true and it will materialize. but don't wait for it, otherwise you aren't assuming it is true. you have to believe even if it doesn't physically look like it's possible. because anything is possible. the law of assumption promises you that it is. you have to have some faith in yourself. if you had to choose to do so, i would say this is something you should spend your time blindly believing.

and you should be grateful that the law is this simple, otherwise, your stress would be caused by something other than you.

[hrnngsoup]

Oh maaan. Oh man this is anti-honey vegan levels of ignorant. Look yeah it's gonna be unpopular opinions, and I am NOT saying there are no abusive-towards-dogs cops out there, but no, k9 forces are not generally abusive.

Here's some facts:

K9 units serve much more jobs than just take-downs. Ever had a recently missing kid? A good police force will call on a k9 unit, which you can give them a piece of fabric or toy to sniff, and then that good doggo will track that kid down. Many, MANY children, seniors, and other people who are lost with mental disabilities have been sucessfully found this way.

Another job they do? Drug sniffing. And yes, I know there have been nasty rumours about cops just training a dog to Mark on a person's bag on command, but besides the trash cops that exist, the drug sniffing training is ACTUALLY very specific and fun for the dogs. I've seen a lot of people over at twitter say they are good at fact checking, feel free to fact check what I just said with unbiased sources.

Most K9's are not just murked when they are retired. This was another rumour. A lot of them are retire with their owners, who form deep personal bonds with them, or are adopted out, in the case of the officer not being able to take care of them... like when the officer has died. The only exceptions are when k9's unfortunately develop the common health problems that german shepherds as a breed are privy to, and their quality of life massively decreases.

K9's are not just "stored" at a precinct in crates or something. They go home with their officers most of the time with only a few job-related exceptions.

It's not actually true that every person who gets taken down by a canine are maimed. Most of the time, it's "hold/release", which still needs stitches, but not even near a maim. but I guess these very common events aren't really covered in media much because they are less sensational....

Calling k9 units on anyone who is not actively fleeing a crime and/or armed is not a thing that happens often. That's a huge waste of money, time, and what, do you think they start off arrests with a k9 unit? No! (Exceptions: when someone has felonies on their record, has been known to be aggressive in past arrests/chases, or have commited grand theft auto)

While this one is only anecdotal, I have never with my own two eyes seen a unit abuse their dog. I have seen many of them baby talk the shit out of their doggos or give them probably too many treats, and well, if you want to see that, I recommend police cam vids. One of my relatives which was a k9 unit absolutely adored her k9, Duke, and she had him for many years after they retired- and Duke was happy and healthy until he passed naturally. A lot of people don't realize that if a k9 unit abused or hurt their dogs, and the other cops saw.... they would be considered the shit under their shoe for the whole precinct.

Now let's talk about why they're necessary in a healthy police force

Ever hear of the terms meth heads, crackheads, etc? These groups of people, if they decide to do crime, are INCREDIBLY dangerous. Drugs of a certain hardcore variety LITERALLY change your brain composition. These are the kind of people that can, and will, run out naked with two steak knives and try to stab anyone around them "because they looked at me funny"... if they are even capable of reason and clear speech in a drug-induced rage. Many do not even feel pain at this stage. There are two ways to stop someone in this state. Gunfire. Or a k9 unit. The good thing about using a k9 is that they are fast, much faster than humans- and that helps reduce the amount of injuries and deaths that occur when something goes wrong.

Humans are instinctually wired to be afraid of dogs. A lot of violence from... really, anyone, is severely diminished when even the threat of a k9 unit being called happens, and when you're facing someone who's weilding a machete, that fricking means something.

Look. I can understand being incensed at anyone who does treat their dogs badly. I am too. But you have to inform yourself on what the facts are, and everything I have said is factual unless someone can prove me wrong which, okay, then i will retract what someone proved me wrong about.

Banning a very important, very life-saving part of a healthy police force is a BAD idea. Note i said healthy police force... there are a lot of UNHEALTHY, CORRUPT police forces that needs from the bottom up reform.

All banning k9 units will do is increase crime and the collateral damage from it, make us lose non-take down services they provide which is VERY important to missing persons cases... and probably increase the amount of german shepherds put down in shelters, ultimately doing much more harm than good.

All k9 dogs are abused hands down if you post any pro k9 stuff on my dash you’re unfollowed I don’t care if we’ve been mutuals for years, you can claim to be anti-cop or a leftist or whatever but if you post k9 dogs with like “a good doggo! A good boy!” fuck off, if I lose followers over this then good riddance

[makismei]

❝ ALL YOU EVER WANTED FROM ME WAS SWEET NOTHING!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ geto x f!reader

cw: fwb to lovers, college!au suggestive content, modern! au, fluff, minor angst, MEN YEARNING, failing out of college, reader needs academic validation to live apparently

synopsis: he’ll love you, just as you are— even if you’re too soft for the world, he’ll gladly be your shield

suguru’s in love with you. it’s no secret.

as you lay on his chest, sweat slicked skin on skin, suguru wishes this pre arranged arrangement was more— he wishes you’d let him in, so he could love you more.

he tries, really. he wants to know you. anything about you.

at this point, he knows your body like the back of his hand. but your favourite colour? no idea. he would guess pink, but that’s only because you own a lot of pink tops.

you like sweets. recently, you’ve garnered a fascination for mochi donuts.

but all this information has come from his observant nature— you’ve never opened up to him, except for that one time, when you cried in his arms, seeking connection, another person’s warmth.

that was also the day you became friends with benefits.

whenever he tries to conduct a mini interview on you, you shut him out, telling him he doesn’t need to know those things.

he knows that you know he loves you.

he’s said it one too many times, when he’s most vulnerable, buried in you. but not once has he heard it back.

but it’s okay. he has a feeling that you’re starting to fall in love with him too.

you’ve started telling him about your day, as well as extremely vague plans for the next. suguru know he’s grasping at air, but he swears he can feel it in his hands.

“can we try?” he whispers, uncertain. to tell you the truth— suguru, as suave and handsome and perfect as he is, isn’t immune to insecurity. girls throw themselves at his feet, but he couldn’t care less because they’re not you.

you sit up. your warmth leaving him shatters his heart.

his room, air humid with sweat and sex, suddenly feels icy. but he gazes longingly at your back, at the scars on your elbows that probably have stories behind them— stories he craves so desperately to know.

“what’s so bad about it?” he continues, “is it me?”

“don’t ask stupid questions,” you retort. but he hears a shaky breath leave your lips, quiet cries filling the room.

he sits up, hand on your back. “look at me.”

he’s got you.

you shake your head, mindlessly bringing a finger to your lips, picking at the dead skin— a nervous tick.

“don’t do that,” suguru says, fingers cupping your jaw, gently turning your head so he can see your face. his thumb runs along your poor bottom lip, catching blood on his finger.

“i get overwhelmed easily,” you mutter, eyes glancing down in shame, “i shut people out when i feel too vulnerable and i’m mean.”

he huffs a laugh, thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “you’re protecting yourself and that’s okay.”

“i’m a shut-in, i don’t like leaving the house and i’m not romantic at all.” you continue and he nods, gaze never faltering.

“you like shoujo anime. especially the episodes with trips or big events.” he whispers, watching you pout. how cute, he thinks, like a petulant child who just wants to be noticed.

a tear streams down your cheek, wetting his thumb as he tries to wipe them away, but it’s like rainfall, so he lets you feel it out.

“i failed out of college,” you voice breaks, “the only thing i was supposed to be good at.”

you’re sobbing, head down in shame and suguru just pulls you into his arms. he rubs a hand soothingly up and down your back, heart absolutely shattering at the sounds of your cries.

“your failures don’t define you,” he mutters, “you’re still smart, capable and hard working. that doesn’t change.”

you pull away, staring him in the face and suguru thinks you’re so beautiful, so vulnerable in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“how do you know?” you sniffle, “you don’t know anything about me.”

he smiles, nodding. suguru wipes your tears, “i wonder why.”

you click your tongue, mustering a glare that holds absolutely no malice. he breathes a quiet laugh, “you’d bend over backwards for your so-called friends, even though none of them realize what you’re going through right now.”

“i don’t want them to know.” you refute.

“i bet you didn’t want me to know either,” he chastises, but it’s soft and his hands are so warm. “but i know now, because you’re important to me. i don’t want you to go through it all alone.”

you’re still glaring, but the crease between your brows have softened. “do you have a saviour complex?”

he shakes his head, “just a thing for damsels in distress, i guess.”

you pinch his arm. he takes your hand and it brings it to his lips. you feel warmth flood your body, but you don’t know if you deserve it.

“what if this ends up being the worst decision you’ll ever make?” you whisper and it’s the first time he’s heard you sound so insecure.

suguru cups your face in his hands, long black hair framing his face. his hair is so long that it tickles your skin, what would your parents say, when you bring home a guy with hair this long?

you can’t find it in you to care, because you know this guy loves you wholeheartedly. you don’t even know what you did to deserve it.

“it won’t be.” and it’s resolute, “haven’t i told you enough? that i love you?”

you nod slowly, tears finally drying.

he leans in, lips brushing against yours. “i’ll put in the work to make you believe me, to trust me.”

you laugh, “you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

you realize here and now, that out of everyone in your life so far, suguru is the only one who doesn’t ask anything of you. he just loves you and it feels unbelievable.

suguru laughs, his forehead touching yours. “i should be telling you that.”

manga panel from my love story with yamada-kun at lv999 ^.^

[luckykiwiii101]

Heyhey

First of all,

Much love to you. I know you've helped a lot of people and on behalf of everyone you've helped..a big thank you!

I found something on reddit and it made everything just click in an instant. I'll put it at the end. (for some reason I can't link it) I am sending this to you in the hope that this will really help some people who feel lost.

Sidenote: I know it's basically what you and other blogs has been preaching about, but this is rephrased differently and may help some people understand and truly apply (and stop overconsuming lol)

I CANT BELIEVE IT TOOK ME ALL THIS TIME TO FINALLY GET IT…  Tips & Techniques I’ve known about the Law of Assumption for almost four years, and now I finally get it. I always thought that when I closed my eyes to imagine something, it was my false self—let’s call her Ella—doing the imagining and experiencing the desire. But that’s not true. Ella only exists in the physical realm; she’s just another object in awareness. The one who’s really imagining is awareness itself—God, consciousness—the only thing that truly exists. Now I understand why imagination is immediate and real. It’s not Ella’s creation because she has no access to awareness. Ella’s role is confined to the 3D world. Her job is to make sense of life through logic, past experiences, and sensory input. So, when I imagine something, Ella can’t “see” it because imagination operates in the realm of awareness, not the physical. This is why thoughts like “Where is it?” or “It’s not working” arise—they’re just Ella panicking because she didn’t witness the creation happen. Ella is fixated on time and the physical world, so she doubts anything beyond her perception. But her panic doesn’t mean anything because she’s not the one imagining. She’s not capable of understanding or influencing what exists in awareness. This realization leaves no excuse not to trust my imagination. Imagination is beyond Ella’s capabilities, and its reality is not dependent on her understanding. This isn’t an invitation to hate or fight Ella—it’s about recognizing her limitations and letting her be. When I notice my mind being logical or thinking doubtful thoughts, I can let them pass because that’s just Ella doing her job. There’s no need to argue with or control her because it’s like bullying a blind person for not being able to see. She simply can’t perceive what’s happening in awareness, and that’s okay. Let her do her thing, knowing it doesn’t matter. The real work is already done in imagination, which is the realm of the infinite.

Someone answered:

Yup, Ella is herself a manifestation of consciousness and there is only consciousness. We think we are Ella, when we are consciousness, perceiving things through Ella's perspective. Good job. And that's exactly why manifestation is instant, the moment awareness becomes aware of something through your imagination, it happens. Because everything is awareness. You already are living that reality from the moment you imagined it. Ella will keep thinking. You need to not react to those thoughts or feelings of Ella, observe them, take care of Ella when she feels down but laugh a little at her naivety. Most people imagine and forget that they're not Ella but consciousness and become aware of something else by giving attention to Ella's limited perspective but guess what? Ella is a well behaved child, she will learn as soon as you discipline her. Her thoughts would slowly get on board too and so will the feelings. So let Ella be, don't react to her thoughts and emotions and become aware of something that's not what you want

People need to read this!!! Thank you so much for sharing!!

[iwilltrytobereasonable]

Okay, I understand the spirit of this but because I know someone will read this extremely literally I’m gonna have to speak up for some ADHD people re: OP’s requirements.

Including, of course, myself.

I have been having trouble focusing on the written word since high school. I am every bit capable of sitting and reading a paragraph 10 times and still not recall what was in it. The brain gremlins say “No! If you focus go to sleep!” ALL the time.

It used to be that I could get around that if I was interested enough in a book, but some time around the beginning of adulthood even that wouldn’t save me and a book I desperately wanted to read would sit on my shelf for a decade. It took me two and a half years of concerted effort to read the 126 pages of the war commentaries of Caesar, even though I found them riveting.

Engagement with fans online helps a LOT. That’s how I got through Seven Pillars of Wisdom. But not every good book has an active fandom.

But! When I was in high school, I also figured out that I could hear better if my hands were doing something other than writing. Words on the page engage my auditory centers, but crocheting does not, nor doodling, peeling fava beans, drawing a very detailed face, spinning yarn, eating oatmeal. All of these fix the focus problem by keeping me engaged in production while not involving my auditory processing.

I can’t start books on the page and trust I can read through the opening chapters to the point of engagement. Audiobooks, however, allow me to use a fidget to fix the focus problem. And yes, I do sometimes need to rewind and catch something, but I’ve always needed to go back a reread here and there. Good books are often better the second time, any way you’ve read them.

[latenighttalkinqwp]

Hi I love your head cannons!! I was wondering if you could write one about paige and the reader being first time moms and having a daughter 🙏

first time mom!paige x first time mom!gf

• whenever you found out you were pregnant, surprising paige was going to be the best part.

“babe! can you come help me!” you yelled, holding a mini basketball hoop. “yeah- what is it?” she looked up from her phone, looking at the box in your hands. “i need help building this.” you tried to hold back your smile, moving a little so your phone could capture her reaction. “baby, that’s a mini basketball hoop- why would we..” she trailed off, dropping her phone and standing up. her jaw dropped, and tears began to fill her eyes. “i figured you would want the baby to play basketball, so i just went ahead and bought one.” you sniffled, dropping the box so you could embrace her. “you- what- baby- you’re pregnant?” paige wrapped her arms around your waist, tears flowing. “yeah, baby. i am”

• she literally banned you from doing anything for yourself. like she was determined to wait on you hand and foot ( even though you were still fully capable of doing it for yourself )

• she bought so many clothes. like the baby had a better closet than the both of you and they weren’t even born yet

• telling the team was just pure chaos. a few of them had ideas, but whenever it was confirmed everyone was going crazy.

• i feel like she wouldn’t care about the gender much, just wanting a healthy baby that she can have play basketball 😭

- “okay- so when i dribble the ball the color will just like explode out?” paige asked her mom, who had planned the whole thing out ( since she was the only one who they trusted with the gender ) “yeah honey, we’re all waiting.” she laughed, holding the phone tightly. you nodded, moving out of the way so she could shoot it. “okay, no pressure.” she laughed, dribbling the ‘basketball’ and shooting it whenever pink smoke began flowing out. you both started crying, and everyone started cheering and congratulating you both. “a baby girl, i’m so excited. so fucking excited, ma.” paige wrapped her arms around your growing stomach, kissing your cheek.

• after the gender reveal, a sudden burst of girl clothes, and an insane amount of shoes, began to take over the nursery.

• whenever the baby girl was born, paige and your daughter immediately were attached at the hip. like she only left paige whenever you had to feed her, or whenever paige had to go out of the house.

• paige would definitely be insanely protective over her. like even if she was still a baby, she was cautious of who she let hold her and in their house to see her.

•i feel like she would just put ‘mom’ in her bio. like that’s how she identifies now😭

- thank you so much for reading all the way through! let me know if this was what you were wanting, anon :) click here to see my masterlist 💞💞

- this request was so cute,, praying that i gave it justice 🙌🏾🙌🏾

[agnireed]

Rainfall

summary 🏹 you've convinced yourself daryl hates you and that only increases when you have to go on a run together

word count 🏹 9.8k

warnings 🏹 large age gap, daryl and reader are embarrassingly bad at feelings, slow burn, slightly ooc side characters (maggie and beth)

thank you to @sparklytyphoondaze for the suggested prompt!

You had almost started to think you were going crazy right alongside the state of the world. 

There wasn’t any other person, before or after that fall, that could bring you to the level of confusion and anger that Daryl Dixon managed to without fail every time you were forced to speak to each other. It was made even worse by the fact you had no idea what about you got him so upset.

You contributed to the group whenever you were needed and then some, you had never once insulted him or even sent a mean look his way unprompted and there was certainly no stand out event that had seared this bitterness into his mind. 

It seemed like he just hated you for no reason at all and this drove you insane in a way that you wish it didn’t. You didn’t necessarily fall under the belief that everybody had to like you but it really rubbed you the wrong way that somebody had decided they didn’t just because of the way you were.

At first you had figured it had to do with your young age but he didn’t sneer at Beth the same way he did with you and nobody else seemed to agree with your assumption whenever you pried them for any known information. 

You certainly had too much time on your hands these days at the prison because you had gone full blown investigator mode to try and figure out what you had been doing so wrong.

Maybe you reminded him of somebody from his past that he had a hard time with or possibly he found annoyance in the fact you managed to carry your love for all things pink and cute over into the apocalypse with you. You felt ridiculous for actually taking this to heart and you frowned at yourself in the mirror when you pulled a particularly beige tank top over your head instead of your typical blush colored ones. 

Daryl wasn’t going out of his way to be mean to you or specifically targeting you when he didn’t have to but a slightly annoyed glance from the man was enough to rattle you for the rest of the day, for reasons you didn’t really understand.

You prided yourself on being pretty tough and there was a lot you could handle before you even felt a twinge of upset but not when it came to the stoney archer. 

He was easy enough to ignore but that was full blown impossible whenever it came to Rick allowing you to do anything the other group members did. He would scoff angrily under his breath and storm off when you were assigned to go on a run and you’d see them having heated discussions whenever you were put on gate duty for long shifts. 

It was clear to you that he didn’t find you capable of helping out and although he never outwardly said it you knew that he felt uneasy trusting the lives of the others in your hands, marking you as a liability even though you’d never so much as tripped on a run let alone endangered people you considered family. 

“Am I really that bad?” You would have felt ridiculous for being so whiny but you knew Beth and Maggie were used to you coming into a cell with this exact tone by now. You had seen the look they shared when you flopped down onto the bed with a groan and now your eyebrows furrowed as you sat back up to face them. “What was that look?”

The younger of the sisters fell silent and she looked almost like she was holding in a laugh as she watched the side of Maggie’s face and waited for her to say whatever it was they were silently communicating. 

“Nothing honey it’s just…” Her familiar light twang was doing very little to soothe your worry and annoyance and you leaned in closer as she took a second to pause and stifle a building laugh. “Are you wearing brown?”

You froze as you processed her words before glancing down at the shirt you had thrown on today and groaning at the same time Beth was finally letting out an actual laugh. The sight of you in anything this shade was certainly unfamiliar and clearly a big enough deal that it was all they could focus on right now, ignoring your question you had originally asked in favor of making fun of you. 

“I don’t think his issue with you is you being girly.” Beth had a voice that couldn’t sound anything but sweet even if she tried so you took her statement as genuine reassurance even if she was still attempting to tease you. 

The pair had long been subjected to your ramblings about the older man and every little biting remark or disinterested stare he sent your way and they were just as stumped as you. Although they provided no solution for your issue it was still comforting to know you weren’t making it up and other people had noticed his distaste for you.

You sulked back to your own cell only an hour or two after joining the sisters and listening to them ramble about their own problems and thoughts, commonly occurring sessions where you could all get some things off your chest. It was a nice dynamic and you often felt touched by how easily they had brought you into the fold of their sisterly bond. 

Everybody in the group felt the same to you, love and trust apparent between each of you and then all together as a whole. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the people inside these walls and you felt no doubt in them doing whatever it would take for you in return if and when you needed it. 

There was only one exception to this feeling and you were growing more and more frustrated by his refusal to bond with you, even if it was surface level.

You didn’t think Daryl would leave you without water if you were dying of thirst but you figured if it was in a high tree he might just tell you it wasn’t worth the effort.

Your theory was most likely going to be tested in some shape because Rick was approaching you the next day to tell you in the most stern voice he could muster that you would be going on a run. You could tell from the look in his eye that he was telling you this way because a certain somebody would be tagging along but you expected that it was just going to be the two of you on your own.

“Ain’t happening.” Daryl seemed just as dejected as you did at the news but Rick had apparently given him alot less time to be upset about it considering the words flying from his mouth when he saw you and your leader approaching him on his bike, already loaded up and at the gate ready to go. 

You sighed at the realization you were a surprise guest, annoyance in your gut knowing this would only further his hatred towards you.

“Who would you prefer?” Rick was spitting back at him in a half whisper like it would save you from being able to hear. You were even more hurt at the way he phrased it, clearly letting you in on the fact they had had this conversation before. “The cars can’t get through, not on that route.”

“I can ride a bike.” You weren’t sure why you had tried to help out with the slightly useless piece of information, knowing neither of them would ever let you go by yourself on a run let alone with Daryl’s bike. If either of them seemed surprised by the fact then they didn’t show it but his sneer turned to you faster than you could retract your suggestion. 

“Like hell you will.” He said it so harshly that you were almost taken back by it. He was never kind to you but it certainly hadn’t gotten to this point in quite some time and your eyes flashed with surprise as you took a few steps backwards so you were further behind Rick.

He watched you for a breath or two after that and you almost thought you saw regret passing over his face even though it was gone as quickly as it came once he faced Rick again. You were pushing yourself further back with another sigh so they could quickly have their biting conversation and get it over with. 

You’d already done the checklist in your head and realized there truly was nobody else who could both be on the back of his bike and also perform well in a run and it was only a matter of time before he understood that too. He was an asshole but he wasn’t unreasonable and you knew he wouldn’t completely abandon a run just because he didn’t want you coming along.

Your theory proved correct because soon enough you were settling yourself on the seat behind him and smiling tightly at Rick when he placed a hand on your arm, silently wishing you good luck with a firm nod.

You did your best to ignore his grumbles for you to hold on and luckily you had grown up on a bike and weren’t saying that for no reason so it was easy enough to sit still and not disturb him. There was a deeper bratty part of you that wanted to softly rock side to side just enough to get his attention and annoy him but you decided against it.

If he was going to dislike you then you wanted it to be a complete reflection of his poor character and nothing to do with you.

He was surprisingly docile for most of the long ride and even let you take a break on the side of the road midway through so you could both stretch your legs and avoid cramping up by the time you got there and actually had to be on high alert. 

“It’s a nice bike.” You felt stupid for speaking as soon as you heard the sound of your own voice and saw his head snapping up to look at you.

He was crouching down near it like he was investigating an issue but you knew he was just pretending to be busy to avoid the awkward silence or having to talk to you, two things that were currently happening thanks to your lack of impulse control.

“Sorry.” You were sighing and awkwardly looking away from him, taking a few steps closer to the tree line because how uneasy his strong gaze was making you feel. A rush of embarrassment overtook you and you strangely felt like you were going to tear up for some reason, pushing some loose rocks with your foot and glancing down the road. 

“S’all good.” He was finally responding and your eyes widened in surprise, glad to see he had looked away again just in time and didn’t see your reaction. “Was my brothers.”

“I remember.” Your voice was soft because you had actually known where the bike came from just from hearing him mention it a handful of times and you also knew enough to know why he tensed at the reminder that you had actually met his brother.

Daryl hadn’t been as docile then in his anger both towards you and everybody else and it felt like you got left behind with Merle on that rooftop when he decided to let down some of his walls and start trusting people. You weren’t a part of that equation which confused you even more now that you started to recall the earliest days of your meeting.

You had been pretty much the sole target of Merle’s disgusting rants about the women in the camp, making comments in passing about the others but really locking in on you whenever you were in his line of sight. He switched between degrading you and your ability to keep up with him and the men with you to just as quickly cat calling you and encouraging you to join him in camp.

There was a quickly built resentment towards him and his brother but the latter faded when you would catch Daryl defending you when he assumed you were out of earshot, at least the best he could without enraging his brother. 

He would tell him to leave you alone when he noticed his brother's hazy eyes zoning in on you like he wanted to approach or make a quick comment about how you were too young for him to be perving on you. All mild attempts to derail Merle’s small attention span but you appreciated the effort considering it was much more than the other men around camp would do and they didn’t have a reason to be cautious of the wild man like Daryl did.

That had all changed when Rick showed up and you felt a surge of hope as soon as you heard him addressing the group for the first time, solid and sturdy in his words even when he was allowing Shane to still bark the orders and have control.

You knew from the first day that you finally had somebody to take lead over your dire situation and you knew men like Merle Dixon would never bother you again.

No part of you thought Daryl was similar to his brother in any way but you still felt the same hurt regardless if it was intentional from his end. 

“C’mon.” He wasn’t giving you a response to what you had said and you were glad he hadn’t, much preferring the loud hum of the bike to help quiet your endless thoughts. 

This time he didn’t completely tense up when you were circling your hands around his waist and you were weirdly finding some comfort knowing he was with you when you thought back on those days at the quarry. Was there a different world where Daryl didn’t dislike you and kept up the protective streak he’d shown back then or was that sincerely a complete one off?

You wondered if it would be weird to ask him directly about what you had done to upset him, both bringing it to reality for the first time and also exposing yourself for caring way more than you should about what he thought.

It might have been an age thing that led you to not only not wanting to disappoint him but you found yourself actively wanting to impress him and catch his attention. Even an interested gaze rather than an annoyed one would probably make your day at this point and you found yourself ridiculous for the tenth time since you left the prison just a few hours ago.

There was the same urge in you when it came to Rick and Hershel, even Glenn occasionally although you looked towards him more as a brother while the latter two reminded you of that fatherly connection you’d always seeked out.

You felt warmed whenever Hershel checked in on you and softly told you to take better care of your health and you’d do just about anything Rick asked of you as long as it meant he was proud of you and felt you were a good addition to the group.

Your nose scrunched up at the thought of thinking towards Daryl in any type of fatherly way and you quickly scratched that idea off your endless boards of guesses.

Luckily he was pulling to a stop before you could jot down anything else in your mental notebook and you glanced around your surroundings for just a second before you were bracing your hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg over his bike, landing flat on your feet with a little groan.

The muscles in your thighs were tight from the stretch and constant tensing to brace yourself around turns and debris in the road and you imagine he was feeling a similar pain judging by the face he made when he roughly kicked the stand down to steady the bike.

You silently watched him as he covered it in light shrubbery, opting to stay out of his way and let him do whatever it was he felt like he needed. It was always simpler to wait for him to tell you what to do instead of doing it on your own and dealing with him getting angry and correcting you. 

He whistled lowly and started to walk away from you and you took the wordless cue easily, following behind with a hand on your knife holster and your eyes sharp to your surroundings. 

There was no amount of huffing and puffing from him that would make you think you were a liability out in nature. You didn’t have as quick of reflexes as he did and there was no way you’d ever catch up in terms of survival skills but you were good at handling yourself and extremely light on your feet.

Luckily there was a lack of complaints from him today as the two of you approached the small strip mall quietly and fast, half crouched in a way that made your knees ache as you followed behind him. 

He stopped too abruptly behind an abandoned car for you to notice and you bumped into his back, immediteyly reaching out in an attempt to steady him and he turned his head to glare at you over his shoulder. The walker growls in the distant stopped you from verbally apologizing but you hoped he could see it in your eyes.

That must have annoyed him enough that he decided you shouldn’t be behind him and out of sight, shaking your hands off of him before taking a few low steps back and nudging you forward.

You sighed at his clear lack of forgiveness but focused on the task at hand and made sure the area was clear before moving forward and finally reaching the buildings. You could see one of the windows were busted as you pushed yourself against the wall and you glanced at him once he reached you.

He was as close to you as he ever probably had been and you took a few seconds to watch the way his built chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths, shoulders pressed to yours and face blank as he glanced at you.

“Walkers.” You more mouthed the words than actually spoke and his gaze dropped to your lips.

You felt incredibly stupid and thrown off when you felt a heat rising to your cheeks at the action. You knew he was simply trying to read you lips and not looking at you for any other reason but your brain apparently decided today that you enjoyed the idea of him looking at you like that. 

It was probably the worst possible moment to be hit with the fact that you wanted him to think about you in that way, your entire body freezing up when you pieced together why exactly you yearned for his approval. It certainly wasnt fatherly at all because you apparently had a crush on Daryl Dixon.

“What the hell are you doing?” His raspy voice hissing at you defiantelty wasnt helping you in your moment of understanding but your eyes widened realizing he had been trying to tell you something while you were frozen. “C’mon girl, move.”

You were quick to nod your head to show him you processed the demand and then he was gone, turning the corner and pushing his way into the building. He must have had a good idea of how many walkers were inside and you werent sure if that was something he had figured out silently or if that was another piece of dialogue you had msised in your dilemma.

He didnt seem at all bothered while taking the three still up and walking around out and you watched him silently, not daring to get in the way when he was swinging his crossbow around and taking off heads. He was still breathing heavily when he turned to check on your whereabouts and this time you could see some anger beneath the exhaustion. 

The flush still on your cheeks was now being partnered with a heat in your gut and you realized just how fucked you actually were.

When had this happened and why did it take you so long to realize what this actually was? How did you manage to delude yourself into thinking it was normal that you were hanging off his every word and going over your small interactions dozens of times.

You’d even thrown on this hideously colored shirt thinking he might like it better than your normal wardrobe and you’d actually been upset when he hadn’t glanced twice at it earlier.

He was furrowing his eyebrows and you assumed he was half a second before asking you what the hell you were staring at but he didnt get a chance considering his eyes were darting over your shoulder with a look of panic that let you know exactly what he saw.

You didn’t even hear the growl of the walker behind you before you were gripping the handle of your knife and attempting to spin around but it was already too late and it was taking you to the ground so hard your head smacked against the old wood and your knife was being thrown somewhere too far for you to reach.

“Daryl.” Your voice was a high pitched screech as you desperately shot one hand out to attempt to grip anything that would allow you to kill the raging walker while your other one was pressed tightly around its shoulder to try and keep its clamping jaw away from your face.

It was so close you could hear the moisture in its mouth and feel its breath on your cheek, a whimper leaving you as you felt its hands on your body trying to find any soft bit of flesh to grip its claw into. 

The walker was falling limb ontop of you and although only a few seconds had passed since youd fallen, it felt like an hour of struggling with its strength and your entire life flashing before your eyes. You’d been in close call situations before but never something like this and you knew you would’ve been dead if Daryl hadn’t been here or even in the same room.

You were breathing heavily and shame hit you at the same time a heavy sob did, fully processing what almost just happened because you hadnt been paying attention to your surroundings. 

“Fuck.” Your voice was pained with a groan as you tried to life the waker off of you but it was large in size, possibly taller than Daryl and without a doubt heavier. It was lifted off of you as soon as you started to struggle and you were only half surprised to see his face looking down at you as he easily removed it.

For once he didn’t look cold or emotionless as he looked at you, a similar panic on his face as he crouched down beside you and scanned over your neck and face for any sign of a bite. 

You were about to reassure him that you hadn’t been bit but he was cutting you off by pushing your shirt halfway up your stomach, revealing so much bare skin that you felt almost shy even though you knew he was just checking you for scratches once he realized where the walker had its hands.

He didn’t dare touch your exposed stomach but his gaze was heated as he looked around your heaving ribs, pausing when he saw small pink marks on your waist.

“It’s okay right?” You sounded panicked as you sat up slightly to inspect it with him, your hand smoothing over the discoloration and feeling only a bit relieved when you didnt feel any signs of it being indented. “He just grabbed me tightly but he didn’t scratch.”

“Let’s go.” His voice was low and cold and he was standing halfway before gripping your forearm and tugging you up with him, starting to drag you towards the door.

You were frowning and shaking your head, looking back at your abandoned knife on the floor and placing a hand on the doorframe to stop him from pulling you. You knew he still easily could have removed you if he wanted but you both understood there was no way to get back on a motorcycle with an unwillingly particpant. 

It wasn’t as simple as throwing you in a car and shutting the door and your other hand came up to grab his wrist.

“We can’t leave.” Your voice was more pleading than argumentative, wanting him to see you were still willing and eager to follow his directions if it meant staying. “We haven’t even looked around yet. Theyre counting on us.”

“Nah. I’ll circle back tomorrow with Maggie.” He was steely in his answer and didn’t even seem to process what you were trying to tell him. He had clearly made up his mind and your eyes were desperate as you stared at him.

“I’m sorry for not paying attention.” It was your second time apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault and this seem to strike a particular nerve with him because he was fully turning towards you and letting go of your arm so he could point at you angrily. 

“You almost died, we’re leaving.” He was making a move for the door again and a wave of panic went through you, halfway thinking he might leave you there if you didn’t join him. He was leaving no room for argument and the look he gave you when you grabbed his shoulder made ice shoot through your veins.

He didn’t seem to understand why you couldn’t bare just leaving and going back to the prison empty handed. Did he not realize that there was nothing you feared more than disappointing your group members, not even a walker practically breathing down your throat could rattle you the way that could. 

His shoulders lost some of the tension when he saw the look on your face and you suddenly wanted to shout at him and ask him what his problem was, demand he tell you why he had been so endlessly cruel to you for so long. 

But now you were wondering if he actually had been or if you were simply throwing an internal fit because he didn’t give you an overt amount of attention, doubting your own reality now that you had fully accepted that you might have a stupid crush on the older man.

You had fresh tears joining your dried streaks now, cutting through the dirt on your face almost comically and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he couldn’t figure out how to comfort you right now or atleast make you stop crying.

Finally he was sighing and nodding his head so quick you almost missed it, pushing past you so he could venture further into the shop and silently let you know that you were getting what you wanted and continuing the run.

You made sure to push down any thoughts of him for the rest of the trip so you could focus on getting what you needed without endangering yourself again and you actually managed to get quite a big chunk of the stuff on the necessity list, even grabbing some extra fun things for Carl and a top you thought Beth might like. 

An hour or so had passed when Daryl made his way back to you and you could feel him watching you as you rifled through the clothing rack, not turning to face him and instead letting him approach you for once. 

“Suits you.” His light tone shocked you enough that you let go of the pink sleeve you were inspecting on the hanger. You had expected him to make a snide comment about you wasting time looking at clothes instead of finding something useful but apparently he had run out of the energy to argue with you.

“Because its childish?” You had humor in your voice with your response but it wasnt genuine, more so trying to deliver the punch line before he could. 

“Nah, just suits you.” He didn’t play into your accidental bait and you narrowed your eyes at him before sighing and pulling the pink sweater off the rack, dusting it off before dragging it over your head and the brown shirt you were wearing.

You figured you looked a bit puffy with the double layering and it was far too hot for the thick fabric but you held your hands out like you were presenting the outfit to him and although he didnt laugh, you thought you heard him lightly scoff at your display.

 

You finished stuffing your gifts for the others into your already full bag before joining him as he moved further into the large building, side by side as you followed the range of his flashlight with your eyes. 

“Why’re you wearing that shit anways?” He surpised you by still trying to make conversation and you starting to wonder if he had been the one to hit his head earlier, glancing at him just to find he was already watching you from the corner of his eye.

At first you thought he meant the sweater but you realized he meant your original outfit, heat once again rising to your cheeks when you pieced together that he had actually noticed your change in color scheme. 

You weren’t exactly sure how to explain that you had done it to appear more mature for him without making a complete fool of yourself so you opted for shrugging your shoulders and remaining silent, letting him figure it out for himself like you so often had to.

“Someone say something to you?” He paused in his stride and you turned back to look at him in confusion, furthering when you saw the twitch in his jaw and that same cold look in his eyes. This time it didn’t seem directed at you but that didn’t help you figure out the situation in the slightest. 

“Like what?” Your voice was still soft and almost a whisper, like you were guiding to him towards actually giving you an answer to something for once. Your head slightly titled and the movement made him take another step back for some reason, almost like he was afraid of you. “Like how I dress like a toddler? Or maybe something about being a walking signal for walkers?”

It almost took him a few seconds into your sentences to realize you were repeating back to him things he had said before, quick comments made in fits of anger that he clearly hadn’t thought you’d take to heart let alone remember word for word. You scoffed at his taken back reaction and nodded your head bitterly, tightening your grip on your backpack strap and moving towards the exit.

If he was bothered by you leaving him behind in the dark building then he didn’t show it on his face but you felt regret for doing it as soon as you were outside by yourself, standing next to his bike impatiently and waiting for him to join you. 

Thunder cracked in the distance as soon as his foot hit the dirt and both of you paused to look at eachother, dread growing in you knowing what he was thinking before he even had to say it.

You were groaning loudly and lugging your stuff back inside, bumping his shoulder on your way in. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to ride home that long with a storm coming so you had no choice but to spend the night in the same building you had nearly died in a few hours prior with a man who wanted nothing to do with you.

He was outside for atleast thirty minutes and you figured he was hiding his bike somewhere more secure or possibly checking the perimeter now that you were going to be letting your guards down a bit to get some rest.

You could hear rain drops hitting the windows before he came back inside and although they were light, you knew he must be getting damp out there. You sighed as you made your way to the clothing racks to find him something to dry to wear, telling yourself you were only doing the kind gesture because you were restless.

“Y/N?” His voice was loud and panicked when he closed the door behind him, not seeing you anywhere near the entrance and finding your bag left behind on the floor. “Damn it.”

Your eyes rolled when he initally called your name and you almost planned to ignore him but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to be unnecessarily rude so you gathered the clothes and headed back towards the front.

His body relaxed slightly when he saw you coming out of the dark but he froze again when his gaze dropped down to the fabric in your hands, watching you as you got so close your boots touched before you were pushing it against his wet chest and raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll catch a cold playing in the rain like that.” You let your tone be slightly mocking but it was lighthearted enough that he wouldn’t bother taking offense at you making fun of him for staying outside. He mumbled a thank you but didn’t stop staring down at you.

You wondered if he was slightly flattered by you doing such a domestic act for him or if he didn’t care at all, deciding on the former so you could let yourself have atleast one small win after such a rough day. You cleared your throat before turning around and allowing him some privacy while changing. 

Picking up on him moving a few more feet away, you entire body was still flushing when you heard the telltale signs of him changing clothes. 

There was a large part of you that tried to squeeze your eyes closed and think of something totally unrelated but the smaller portion won by a landslide and you let yourself think about what he might look like without clothes on. 

You were no stranger to the sight of his arms, large and rippling with muscle everytime he drew his crossbow or swung his knife. You knew he was older and more mature than boys you had been with before the fall, most likely with hair trailing down his stomach where they had been smooth and rounder around the sections of his ribs.

Your fidgeting was extremely apparent to anybody in the room and you were unlucky enough that it was just the two of you.

In no time Daryl was mumbling that you were good to turn around and moving to start a small enough fire that it wouldn’t reach the high ceiling and could be ventilated through the broken windows. You ignored the sight of his messy and damp hair falling into his eyes and especially forgot about how much your chest heaved at the way he looked in the clothes you’d picked for him.

It wasn’t much different from what he would usually wear, you had made sure of that so he wouldn’t reject your gesture but you simply found it notable that it was something you had picked for him. 

A few more hours were passing of you sitting in silence and listening to the rain outside for any sign of it stopping, grateful when he finally sighed and pulled out the little food you had packed, seemingly accepting your fate of staying overnight. 

The sun had long set by the time he was clearing his throat like he was going to finally say something and your eyes met his across the fire, holding the gaze tightly so he didn’t change his mind.

“Sorry about before.” He shocked you even more with the words coming from his mouth and your eyebrows raised, your arms wrapped around your knees where you’d been resting your head before he spoke. 

You weren’t sure what exactly he was trying to apologize for, the list of possible offenses longer than you think he even realized. You imagined it was between trying to make you abandon the run and you bringing up what he had said about the way you dressed, maybe a mix of both so he could kill two awkward birds with one big hesitant stone like apology. 

“It’s all good.” You were shrugging and you wondered if he at all cared that you had lost your usual friendly tone in favor of mimicking his cold and emotionless one. “Kinda my fault anyways, always trying to get your attention.”

You don’t know why you said it and you were even more confused why you didn’t immediately want to take it back. Maybe saying it out loud could make you feel better but you imagined you’d be wishing you saved it for a kinder audience like Maggie and Beth whenever he responded to you. 

Braving a look in his direction, you softly laughed seeing the confusion on his face. He almost looked a bit hurt and guarded like he thought you might be making fun of him which you didn’t fully understand why he would go to that conclusion.

“You don’t have to pretend you didn’t notice Daryl.” You were smiling softly now and although you were mostly baiting him, the pink on your cheeks was still very much real.

Truthfully, you hadn’t assumed that he had caught onto your crush on him because you barely had until now and Daryl didn’t seem to be the type of man that went around guessing when people liked him. 

Infact he seemed the most thrown off guard you’d ever seen him when he realized what you were trying to say and the red on his cheeks was almost enough to rival yours. You coughed just to fill the silence when you accepted he wasn’t planning to respond to you and you tried to ignore the deafening sounds of his shifting in place. 

The two of you stayed silent until the fire started to die out and by then you were laying on your back, staring up on the ceiling and bringing you could feel to rain falling down on you. It was heavy by now and you figured the storm was directly above you at this point, almost thankful for the thunder and lightning as it masked the sounds of Daryl’s light breathing.

He was laying down too and despite him being on the other side of the fire, it still managed to feel strangely intimate. 

It was likely that he was closer lying in the cell next to yours on the nights he decided it was better than the perch but now there was no stone wall between you and you could see the outline of his face whenever you turned your head to see if he had fallen asleep yet. 

The darkness was making it hard to see from that distance but the light of the fire was just visible enough for you to catch the fact he was glancing over at you too and you quickly looked away. You were firm in your stare at the ceiling now and you hoped the feeling of his eyes on you still was just your imagination. 

“I like the pink.” His voice was breaking through the silence but not loud enough to be completely jarring, low and whispered like he didn’t want to disturb you with the confession. Maybe he didn’t want you to hear him at all. “Meant it, it suits you.”

“You don’t think I look ridiculous?” You were teasing him now and it was obvious, your voice light and gentle again. 

“Nah, never did. Just an asshole.” His flat voice made you snort a laugh and you could have sworn you heard him chuckling in return. You stayed quiet for a bit longer and tried to find a way to not place meaning behind what he was telling you. 

It could be as simple as him not wanting any bad blood between the two of you considering you had to live together for most likely the rest of your lives, regardless if that was days or years. Or maybe he had felt bad about hurting your feelings because Daryl certainly wasn’t cruel for no reason and you knew he had a better heart than most, even if it took seeing you reduced to tears to finally apologize.

“I almost died today.” Your voice was still soft but for different reasons now and you turned to look at him again, wincing when you noticed he’d gone rigid. He was resting his head on one of his arms and the other was palm down on his stomach, moving lightly with every breath he took. “After all this time I think I forgot that I could. Maybe it’s good to get a reminder.”

He didn’t say anything for a while again and you almost wanted to sigh even though you just knew it was in his nature to not speak much. You actually liked that about him on any other day, he was easy to read when he wanted to be and he wore his emotions on his sleeve if you paid enough attention which apparently you did. 

“Not gonna let that happen.” Sometimes he said things that made you wish he wouldn’t speak because you werent sure how you were supposed to take him saying something like that. You had practically spelled out the fact you liked him a few hours ago and now he was declaring to personally keep you alive. 

“You cant know that.” You had decided to sit up before you finished speaking, wanting to feel more in control of the conversation even if it meant being able to see him more clearly now that you could easily see him over the fire. 

“Be alot easier if you stayed at the damn prison.” He sounded annoyed again but you could tell it wasn’t actually directed at you in a meaningful way. 

“Is that why you keep telling Rick I shouldn’t go on runs?” You hadnt even realized you came to that conclusion until you were asking it and you suddenly felt very stupid for thinking that he had been doubting your survival skills all this time. Although it wasnt solely your fault because you wouldve agreed alot easier to stay back if you knew he was simply worried about you. “Why didnt you tell me that?”

He scoffed like your question was ridiculous and now it was your turn to be annoyed with him. You were standing from your spot on the floor and moving over to him, sitting beside where he was still laying flat. This was probably the closest youd ever been to him intentionally not to mention this most likely being your longest conversation to date but he was finally giving you some answers now. 

“Wouldn’t matter anyways now would it. Too damn stubborn.” He sounded completely bored by your conversation and your mouth dropped at him vaguely confirming that he had been trying to keep you back to protect you. 

“I thought you hated me.” You practically squeaked it out and suddenly he seemed alot more alert, turning his head to look at you fully and clearly trying not to pay attention to how close you were sitting. 

You were on your knees next to him and your hands slapped down onto your thighs dramatically with an almost manic laugh as your entire point of view shifted. 

“Why would I hate you?” He asked it like the thought genuinely hadnt crossed his mind and you could have screamed in frustration. 

“Then why-” You thought of all of his heated glances and the way he avoided touch from you specifically, teasing remarks about the smallest details of how you dressed and now the added fact that he hadn’t wanted you to face the dangers of going on runs especially ones he wasn’t going on. “Oh my god, you have a crush on me.”

You should have felt ridiculous for the way you were practically gleaming with realization as you pointed at him like you had cracked open a decade long cold case. He raised an eyebrow at you and your theatrics before he was scoffing and looking back up at the roof like the conversation wasn’t making his heart race. 

“Ain’t got a crush.” He felt almost shy saying the word and thankfully you were close enough to see the way his flush had returned tenfold and the fidgeting of his hands against the vest he’d thrown back over the shirt you picked for him.

“But you like me?” You were overdoing it now but you felt almost drunk with giddiness now that you knew he hadn’t been icing you out all along. Daryl was simply just shy and clearly terrible at showcasing when he had feelings for somebody but you almost couldn’t blame him considering you’d nearly died seconds after realizing it for yourself. “You think I’m totally cute.”

Now you were really pushing it and he brought his gaze back to you just to make sure you could see the exasperation in his expression although now you were so high on the accidental confession you were tricking yourself into thinking he looked fondly amused.

“I’ve spent all this time thinking you hated me, why didn’t you just-” You were just starting to question his lack of forwardness but you silently answered it for yourself before you even finished. “Oh.”

You’d somehow manage to forget that there was easily twenty years between you and Daryl, if not more than that (you didn’t think now was a good time to ask him exactly how old he was). He looked almost sheepish now that you seemed to recall this obvious fact and you could tell he had thought about it alot more than you had.

A quietness took over the room again and you halfway noted that it sounded like the rain had finally started to slow to a stop. You were shifting in place and adjusting yourself in a way that you could more comfortably lean forward to practically force him to look at you.

“I don’t think it matters.” You were whispering now like somebody was going to overhear you and now his glare actually had some real heat behind it.

“Like hell it don’t.” He sounded frustrated that you were even talking about it let alone attempting to pretend it wasn’t an issue.

Now you were truly curious how long he had been thinking about this and it suddenly made alot more sense to you why he constantly seemed to be avoiding you. Not out of anger towards you but possibly towards the fact there was no world in which he could be with you in that way.

“I wouldn’t tell anybody.” You immediately regretting saying it as soon as you saw the way he froze up, the words being whispered into the air painting a much different tone than you had originally intended. 

It made it sound like it was some dirty secret you would need to keep due to how wrong it was but you had meant it genuinely, wanting him to know you’d be okay with taking your time letting the others know until it was something even worth noting. 

Now you truly felt like you’d gone crazy because what were you even talking about here? Did he have real feelings for you or was it just basic lust for a younger girl wandering around in pink tanktops, did it even matter regardless considering how disgusted he seemed now?

He was sitting up with a grunt and rising to his feet, giving you one last glare before he was storming outside with a mumble about needing a smoke. You stayed there on the floor staring at where his body had just been and a wave of shame washed over you.

You tried to calm yourself by thinking that you could fix it once he came back inside and relaxed a little, giving you a second to explain what you meant and what you had been thinking. You didn’t want him to see you as some stupid little girl that couldn’t keep her mouth shut. 

Daryl took this plan and crushed it considering he didn’t ever come back in and you laid there staring at the body of the walker who had almost killed you earlier, watching it until you managed to fade off into a nearly restless sleep while he sat outside and counted down the minutes until you could leave.

----

The next morning couldn’t have been more awkward if you tried.

You’d practically thrown yourself outside when you had waken up and didn’t see him still, stumbling onto the dirt with your eyes wide with panic. You looked towards the bush where his bike had been and felt your throat tighten at the realization he had actually left you there.

Then you heard shuffling behind you and whipped around to see him watching you from the treeline, half concerned and half blank like he couldn’t decide which side of him to show you now. 

Your half awake brain slowly remembered that he had moved his bike before the storm last night and you could tell by the line of something furry over his shoulder that he had been out hunting before you started to head home. 

You could guess by where the sun sat in the sky that he had actually let you sleep in a bit and suddenly you were itching to get back to the prison, hand to your forehead as you made your way back in silently to gather your stuff and head back out. 

You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so distressed over the thought of being left alone but you figured you were way past the point of return with the amount of humiliating things that had happened in the last 24 hours so it didn’t really matter. 

There was no overestimating how bad it felt to climb onto the back of his bike and wrap your arms around him for endless hours while also knowing he most likely wanted to be as far away from you as possible right now.

The sight of the prison would normally leave a slight distaste in your mouth but right now it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and it only got better when you saw a familiar head of blonde hair near the gates, clearly hearing the sounds of the bike and waiting for your arrival.

You felt a rush of emotion seeing your friend and you were rushing off the bike before he even had time to steady himself, meeting her halfway in a hug and trying to ignore how weird your reaction seemed to anybody else. You had only been gone a night but it felt like an entire year had passed in that building. 

She was quick to make small talk as you headed in together and you were grateful for the distraction, glancing behind your shoulder back at him only to look away quickly when you found him already looking. 

It wasn’t until you were hidden behind the walls of your cell that you let the frown take over your expression and Beth faltered in her ramblings, watching your shoulders slump as you threw your bag carelessly in the corner. 

“Oh honey. I know that expression.” You hadn’t even realized Maggie was standing in the entryway of your cell until you heard her warm voice full of concern and pity. Beth sent her a curious glance and she sighed softly. “She’s heartbroken.”

“You told him?” Beth gasped the words loudly and both you and Maggie rushed to shush her, your hands covering her mouth while her sister moved fully into the cell like the sheet covering the doorway behind her would at all mask the sound of your gossip.

“You knew?” You were already frustrated and it was obvious in your tone, looking between the two of them with an accusatory glare that they matched with confusion. “You both knew this entire time?”

“You didn’t?” Maggie seemed genuinely perplexed by what you were saying and you suddenly were hit with how crazy you must have sounded.

You had spend the better part of the last few months ranting to them about every little interaction with the man and it was apparently clear to everybody but yourself and Daryl that you had feelings for him. 

There was a brief silence before you were delving into what had happened and doing your best to not leave out any details so you could get their opinions and advice on where to go from here. Beth cringed when you got to the part about not telling anybody and Maggie rolled her eyes when you mentioned Daryl had slept outside to avoid having to talk to you again.

“Is it really that bad?” Beth seemed almost bashful to ask the question and you both knew what she was talking about. 

You weren’t really sure how to answer her because although young, you were still very much an adult and capable of making your own decisions but you also wouldn’t be able to fully blame somebody who found you and Daryl together to be distasteful. Beth was still a few years younger than you and you had a hard time picturing her with anybody that age when she was closer to you and Maggie’s maturity.

“You’re a grown woman Y/N.” Maggie seemed to have come to a similar conclusion as you had or maybe she just wanted to encourage her friend towards something she knew would make her happy. “Least he could do is talk to you.”

That seemed to light a new found fire in you and after a few more words of encouragement you were storming off to go and find Daryl.

It took a fair bit of time to track him down but eventually you were led back to the maintenance room in the newly cleared portion of the prison, heart beating faster as you walked through the dimly lit hallways. You felt relieved when you could hear his voice coming from one of the rooms but then annoyance surge through you again.

“I’m a grown ass woman.” You were sure you looked ridiculous as you pushed through the door and looked at him angrily, pointing a finger in his direction and feeling slightly smug when you saw how caught off guard he looked for once. 

Then his eyes were trailing behind you and for a second you were reminded of the way he had looked before the walker attacked, spinning around just to see Rick and Glenn staring at you like you had grown two heads. Theyd never seen you so amped up before and the latter looked like he almost wanted to laugh. 

You were sure Maggie had filled him in to some extent about your situation with Daryl and your neck felt hot with embarrassment, something that was happening far too often for your liking.

“Sorry.” You felt sheepish as you glanced at Rick who looked half disapproving and half amused. “Can I talk to Daryl?”

Now he had something else passing over his face but you weren’t really sure what to make of it, even more confused when they locked eyes over your shoulder before Rick was raising an eyebrow and giving a slow nod. He barely looked at you as they left and you couldn’t tell if that made you feel better or worse. 

You were turning back towards the source of your anger but now all of your fight had been lost and all you could do was sigh as you looked at him.

“Can you atleast talk to me?” You found yourself simply repeating exactly what Maggie had told you and you felt prematurely defeated when you saw the closed off look in his eye.

“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” He was quick to dismiss you completely and you were thankful you were standing between him and the door because it looked like he was seconds from running away just to avoid you again. 

“There is Daryl and you know there is.” You didn’t care that you sounded desperate as you called his name and his eyes bore harder into yours when he heard it falling from your lips, only watching you as you took a few steps closer to him. “What’s so wrong about you liking me?”

He wasn’t going to say it, place a name to exactly what the problem would be because he knew you were already aware. You could tell he was growing frustrated that you kept pushing him about it especially when he clearly had done a good job at ignoring it although that included making you feel like shit.

“Liking eachother.” You changed your wording around to make sure you included yourself this time, wanting to remind him the feeling was mutual. 

You weren’t sure if it had the affect you wanted but you were taking a few more hesitant steps forward like you were approaching a wild animal, stopping when you were close enough to be able to put your hand on his chest.

It was the first time you were touching him like that without needing a real reason to and he seemed more affected than you’d seen him be yet, breath noticeably shorting as his eyes started to frantically dart around your face.

You wished so desperately you were able to read his mind and question what it was that was holding him back so much, especially when you were out of sight from everybody else and the judgement they possibly could cast onto you.

 

Apparently you weren’t subtle and the look Rick had given him earlier almost seemed like he had been as aware of your situation as Maggie was and there was no public outcry, no pulling you away and scolding you for having your hand on his chest and your eyes moving from his lips to his eyes. 

For a second it felt like the volume had been turned off in the room until he was finally moving his gaze down too and suddenly it all came rushing back, able to hear your own heartbeat mixing with his and the pace of his breathing slowing down. 

It wasn’t until he kissed you that the sound died out again, filled in by the rush in your heart and raindrops in the distance.

[endemiccharm]

My grandmother says that my mother needs to forgive her, because Jesus has. She says she was young (true) and did her best (debatable) and God has forgiven everything that others might think she's done (eh), and therefore she doesn't need to do any reparative work, other people just need to get over it and forgive her and not expect anything from her.

That is an abuser who has not grappled with their abuse. She does not seek forgiveness from my mother, or even herself. She assumes it from some force that is (in her belief structure) infinitely forgiving. She then uses that as justification to demand that my mother, to whom she has done real and measurable harm, give her that forgiveness without (and this is crucial) her doing any work to mitigate, acknowledge, or make amends for that harm.

This is not what @patricia-taxxon is calling for.

What OP is calling for would require my grandmother to do the following:

Acknowledge that her actions have caused (both inadvertently and deliberately) grievous harm to the lives and wellbeing of her children.

Accept that her children may never forgive these harms.

Acknowledge that because she has committed grievous harm, she is not owed forgiveness.

Accept and abide by the boundaries her children set regarding the circumstances and frequency of their and their children's contact with her.

Interrogate her behavior: What caused her to commit it? How does she avoid committing it in the future? What healing does she need to do to ensure she moves away from the sort of actions she previously took?

Realize that everyone is capable of doing terrible things, but that many people choose not to. Realize that her past actions were neither unique nor excusable. Realize that she is responsible for her behavior, as all of us are.

Use that investigation, acceptance, and realization to make better choices in her interactions with the people currently in her life (including her children, if they decide to continue contact with her).

Forgive herself for those past actions, because to refuse to do so would be to ignore the growth and work she has done. Acknowledge that she is still capable of such actions, and take pride in her choice to no longer engage in them.

Continue to respect her children's boundaries and to accept their forgiveness or lack thereof, because they do not owe her anything. Continue to treat people better because she now knows she owes that to herself. Heal. Help others heal.

This is not an easy list. My grandmother has failed step one on many occasions. Many of us do. Forgiveness is not carte blanche to act poorly again. Forgiveness is an active decision to not hold the past as a constant filter over someone's current actions.

The actions have to change first.

the thing is, if your younger self was a bigot or an abuser, u can't make people forgive you. but you still gotta forgive yourself, like that's non-negotiable, dude. that happens before u can even ask the question of earning forgiveness from anyone lese

[mikkomacko]

Him and I-Do it with a broken heart

Mob Nico Hischier x reader blurb

Warnings: blood, tears, mentions of violence and wounds, alcohol, angst

____________________________________________

June

Nico can’t look away from you.

Ever since you showed up at his apartment on Saturday night, teary eyed and scared. You told him it was done, that you said goodbye to your family. You’d picked him. And even though you were teary eyed and scared, you were also so confident in your decision.

You picked him.

The decision has sat heavy on his shoulders ever since. Why the fuck would you do that? The people that raised you, the people that put a house over your head and love into your soul, and you just walked away?

For him? What can he offer you? He can’t be your boyfriend, can’t step in as your family. Nico knows for certain that he can’t be what you need right now. There's no way he can take care of you, be there for you. Not now, when he can barely take care of himself.

It’s all ruined. He should’ve told you to go back and apologize to them, to agree to your parents terms and stop seeing him. And then when the two of you couldn’t hold that promise, he’d just be a fun little secret.

That was the plan, wasn’t it? When he met you? To just be the guy you came to when you didn’t want to sleep alone, when school was too much, when you both needed the world to just slow down for a moment.

Because it’s always been like with you. Time standing still, everything fading away until it’s just you and him. He should’ve known then what he was doing. What that feeling meant.

He’s going to love you. Not in a fleeting way, where he loves that you’re always a call away, or that you always fall into bed with him so effortlessly, or that you ignore the fact he's running one of the largest growing businesses in the US. But that he’ll love you with everything he’s got. When he’s laying on his deathbed he’ll have the taste of your lips on his tongue, your name on his breath.

He’s going to love you in the kind of way that changes everything.

And he’s not ready for that.

He pictures you walking across the stage at graduation, the way your smile took over your whole face. You didn’t look back towards your family, didn’t turn to wave at them. No, you somehow found him, found his eyes even through the obnoxiously dark sunglasses he was wearing. Your smile turning shy, the hand not holding your degree lifting to wiggle your fingers at him and the boys that were hooting and hollering louder than everyone else.

You should’ve been looking for your family in a moment like that, not at him. He knew it then too, that you’re going to love him one day. Maybe you’re already there, or at least on your way to being there. You’ll love him the way he’ll love you, endlessly. Dangerously.

Nico needs to be ready for that. He needs to be someone capable of loving, deserving of it. Especially if it’s going to come at the expense of your family.

Softly, you giggle at something on your phone, scrolling momentarily. Nico glances at you again, looking over when the stop light’s red or lapse in traffic allow him too. He wants to see the details of your face for as long as he can, commit it to memory. Not that he'll ever forget it. He'll just need it to keep him going, to keep working towards you when life starts to get tough.

Sooner than he'd like he's pulling up in front of your apartment complex, eyeing the window on the fourth floor that he knows is yours. You lock your phone, gathering your bag from the floor of his car when he looks at you.

Will he ever step foot in that apartment again? Ignore the cold looks of your roommates? Sneak in after they've gone to bed because neither of you wanted to deal with them that night? He hopes so, but deep down he knows he probably won't.

"Meeting with the boys tonight?" You ask, tilting your head curiously. He wants to touch the strand of hair that falls away from your face. Instead he nods, clearing the dry lump in his throat.

Right, it's Wednesday. Meet day for the Devils, and you know that. The fact that you know that squeezes his chest, painfully constricts his lungs. "Yeah," he tries to say. It comes out as more a whisper.

You frown, eyes squinting in thought as you look at him. He wants to look away, knows he needs to because you'll see right through him like you always do. He can't though. He wants to see you, aches to have his eyes on you and that fucking hurts.

"What's wrong Nico?"

He shakes his head, throat burning and he thinks he might cry. God he hasn't cried in probably years, but then again he hasn't let himself indulge in sweet things like you in years either.

Knowingly, you sit up straight and sigh "Say it Nico." Of course you know, you know him better than he knows himself. In the few months he's let himself have you, you've read him like a book from the very beginning. Perfect, you've always been perfect for him.

He can't say the same thing about himself, though.

"If you already know it, why should I-"

"Because I want to hear it," you interrupt, and for the first time ever he can't tell if your angry or sad, or both. You sound like you've already known this was coming. Numb to it. "If you're going to do this to us Nico at least have the guts to actually say it out loud."

It hurts to hear but you're right. He inhales, bites at his bottom lip as he tries to get the words to form on his tongue. All he can feel are those stupid cries hiding in the back of his throat.

"I don't think we should see each other any more," he finally voices, and this time he does look away. Staring out the windshield as the neighbor that lives above you walks those monstrosities they call dogs.

He can't help but think of you and your Moose, hopes that one day he gets to see you with a big and snuggly St. Bernard, just how you wanted. Even if he's not the one walking the dog with you.

"That's it?" you ask, bored. "No excuses, no 'it's-not-you-it's-me' or anything?"

"It is me," he winces when you laugh, unamused and cold.

"Of course it's you Nico. I'm not stupid, I know that."

"I know you're not stupid!" He defends, outraged and insulted that you'd even insinuate he think that. "You're the smartest fucking person I know and that's why you should know this isn't good. You can't throw everything away for me and the Devils."

"You can't choose that for me! What if it's what I want?"

"It's not," he insists, finally looking at you. You’re not crying, but you’re close to it. Your nose has gotten all read, eyes glassy and furious. Nico’s not sure what he looks like, but he hopes he too looks more angry than sad. You can’t know he’s sad, that he doesn’t want to do this.

“And it’s not what I want either.”

He can see the way the words hit you, the way you flinch back from him. Nico’s chest cracks, stinging with every shaky inhale he forces himself to take. You’ve never been scared of him, he doesn’t want you to be either. But if that’s the only way he’s going to get you to listen to him…well then flinch away.

“I can’t believe you,” you mutter in disbelief, more to yourself than him. Teary eyes look him over, calculating, like you don’t even recognize him anymore. He fights against the urge to cry, blinking furiously and staring out the front windshield as you gather your things. He hears your seatbelt in click, hears the door open. He still doesn’t look at you.

Not until you’ve gotten out of the car, pausing as you tell him the one thing he’s most afraid of.

“I hope that one day you’ll finally let someone love you, Nico.”

The door slams shut and Nico winces, not sure if he’s shying away from you or from the loud bang of the door. He’s not an asshole, as much as he’d like you to think, so he waits until he’s certain you’ve gotten inside safe. Checks just to make sure.

You’re not on the sidewalk, the door to your building sealed shut. All that lingers is the faint smell of you, of your vanilla perfume and shea butter condition. Nico sniffles, wipes at his eyes before the tears that have leaked out can get too far down his face.

Then he put the car in drive, doesn’t look in his mirrors as he heads back towards Hoboken. Alarm bells go off in his head.

You’re forgetting something.

You can’t leave without her.

Turn the car around.

He ignores them, biting his cheek and pressing on the gas harder. Nico doesn’t cry, not until he’s far enough away, panicking enough for his mind to finally scream at him.

You’re in love with her.

He doesn’t go home that night. He heads straight to the bar.

~~~~

July

The Rock is loud, even all the way in the back office where Nico’s been hiding. Muffled chatter, glass hitting the bar top, bottles clinking together. He can hear it all, even through the wall shaking music.

Nico groans, thankful he can’t be heard as he presses the disinfecting cloth to his ribs. He doesn’t know what hit him there, a knife, brass knuckles, maybe a key tucked between someone’s fingers.

Doesn’t matter. The wound is still gaping and messy, a mush of torn skin and blood. Gritting his teeth, Nico presses in tighter. His shirt lay in front him, dirty and torn, stained with blood. His, theirs, everyone’s probably.

That doesn’t matter either. He can get a new one whenever. Nico pulls the cloth away, dropping it into a wet and bloody mess on the desk top. He’s never been particularly good at stitching, especially not on himself, so he grabs for more gauze, planning to just wrap the stupid thing and hope it holds.

But by the time he’s got the gauze on and is starting to wrap the bandage around his torso, it’s already soaked with blood, sagging and drooping away from the wound.

“Fuck,” he curses, throwing it all to the floor in a soggy mess. He’s reaching for more gauze when they door to the office opens, the sounds of the bar hitting him clearly. Then it shuts, muffling it all again and Nico looks up to find Jesper there.

“Where have you been,” his friend asks, arms crossed over his chest. He’s looking Nico over, eyeing the fresh and old bruises on his torso, the scrapes. And of course, the gaping hole in his side.

“Had a job.” Nico grunts, attempting his bandaging again.

“I don’t remember you ever doing jobs alone before.” Jesper says pointedly, and Nico knows what he’s really trying to say. He’s being scolded for being reckless, for getting hurt, for not including them.

“Was a one man job,” he lies, but his fingers and the bandages have gotten messy and soaked again. “Fuck me!”

He throws them to the ground, grabbing his ruined shirt and holding it to his side. Squeezing his eyes shut, Nico starves off the wooziness, trying to take calming breathes.

“That’s gonna need stitches.” Jesper says and Nico stays silent, listens to Jesper putter around the office. He’s collecting thread and a needle, disinfecting and prepping everything. All while Nico sits there, grinding his teeth so hard he thinks they might crack and shatter.

He might crack and shatter.

“What was this about?” Jesper swats his hand away, Nico leaning back in the chair and letting his friend takeover.

“Those guys running around the Heights won’t be bothering us anymore,” is all Nico says. It was a small group, more a posse than anything else but they needed to be put down before they thought themselves competitors with the Devs.

“Thought we said we’d let it run its course?” Jesper pinches the raw skin together, Nico jolting in pain as his friend stabs through the untouched skin and begins knitting him together again.

“It wasn’t safe,” Nico grunts, white spots sparkling behind closed eyelids. “I have to-it couldn’t wait.”

It goes without saying what he means, what he’s been doing. Tearing himself apart at least once a week trying to clean up Jersey. The more power, the more dominance he has over the city, the less threat there is.

And when that happens, he can put the prinzessin laws in place. He can go get you. If you’re still there, that is.

“What’s she gonna say?” Jesper mumbles quietly, “when she comes back and sees you like this?”

Nico swallows heavily, wishes he had a bottle of whiskey or something back here to drink. “If she comes back.”

Jesper snorts humorlessly. “I hope you have a plan,” he says, tying off the stitches. Nico winces at the tug, blinking his eyes open to look down at the patched up work. “And I hope you’re still in one fucking piece by the time it’s over.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Nico deflects, and Jesper wipes away the blood staining his skin with an alcohol wipe. “The plan is that she’s safe.”

“You’re crazy if you think she’d be ok with this.” Jesper laughs, applying a bandage over the stitches. Maybe it’s Nico’s imagination but it feels like he presses it on unnecessarily rough. Nico doesn’t know what to say, so he just sits there, body aching, heart aching.

Almost a month later and he doesn’t feel any better about what he did. But growth hurts sometimes, even if it’s needed.

“Put a shirt on.” Jesper sighs, getting up and moving towards the door. “I’ll have a pint waiting for you at the table.”

Nico grunts, shifting to get up. “Get all the fucking girls out of there,” he demands before his friend can leave. “I don’t want them in my booth.”

~~~~

“Come on, that one’s cute!”

The man isn’t cute. Not even close. He’s got wavy golden hair, long and messy but in an intentional way. Even from here you can tell he’s got dark eyes, probably tragic and beautiful, just how you like.

But he’s not cute.

You shake your head, taking a drink from your vodka soda. The girls groan in protest, most of the noise overpowered by the music.

“Getting over and getting under, remember?” One of them says, leaning in close to your ear. For a month it’s been getting under to get over. But you’ve yet to get under anyone.

You can’t even look at anyone, no matter how much vodka you take in to try to blur the image in front of you. Because it does blur them, but it also sharpens the image of someone else.

And you don’t need that sharpened at all, don’t need any help to make that one hurt.

“Yeah,” you agree, “I just don’t feel like getting under anyone tonight.”

“So get on top.” One of them laughs and you try to do it too, giggle lifelessly like it’s actually funny. It’s not funny though, and you think if you had any water in you at all right now you might cry.

“At least get his number so when you do feel like getting under, it’s there.”

It’s not a terrible idea and it’ll get them off your back for the night. A step forward, away from where you’d been before, where you’re stuck right now. Away from him.

So you get up from the table, stumbling slightly in your knee high boots and the girls holler. You cheers them, downing the rest of your drink before making your way across the bar. Dazed, everything slightly blurring. But this guy spotted you the minute you got up, was already turned and waiting for you when you get there.

“Hey,” he greets and you repeat it back, gripping his arm when you stumble and his hand finds your waist. Not your hip, not like he used to do. Wordlessly, he’s gesturing to your phone in your hand and you unlock it, hand it over. He types in his number and you swallow down the urge to vomit.

He texts himself, his own phone buzzing as he hands yours back. The name on his contact reads Jack and your stomach twists uncomfortably.

You know a Jack. You miss Jack. You miss…

Swallowing heavily, you flutter your eyelashes at him, too drunk and sad to know what else to say. He does have dark eyes, almost black as they look at you with interest. Not warmth, not protectiveness, not…

“What’s your name?” He asks, thumb hovering over his phone where he’s saving your contact. You tell him, trying your best to smile all cute and flirty.

It must work because he smiles back, shy and maybe in another world cute. His eyes don’t crinkle though, not how you like. And his cheeks don’t dimple, not like…

“You’ve got a pretty smile.”

It knocks the wind out of you, makes you suck in a breath and suddenly you can’t look at him. Because different eyes are looking at you over his shoulder, sad and brown and beautiful. And he’s not smiling either, not even saying a word but you can read him.

I always told you that.

You can hear his voice in your head, feel it in his gaze. That’s his line, one of the first sweet things he’s ever said to you.

“I’m sorry,” you say with faux politeness, “I think my ride is leaving but uh yeah you’ve got my number.”

He says something back but you’re already moving towards the exit, turning away from that stupid face watching you so knowingly. Except now he’s behind you too, hovering and watching from just out of reach. Just like he is every time you drink this much.

You blink, try to will him away but his features get clearer and clearer every time you open your eyes again. A friend intercepts you, asks if you’re ok.

“Yeah,” you blow-off, “we’re gonna meet up later. I just need to go home and freshen up.” You lie, motioning to the blonde behind you.

He’s over her shoulder now, listening intently. Dark and thick eyebrows raise with amusement, a teasing smirk on his face. Dimples and all.

So you’re lying now too?

“Ok, you need help getting a ride?”

You shake her off, declining. You’ll order an uber outside, outside where you can breathe and cry and hopefully not see him anymore. “No I’m ok, promise.”

You’re not ok, baby.

She lets you go, and you push through bodies and around tables to get to the door. He follows you, moving slow and effortlessly but always there. Just like how he is in real life, presence looming and dominant.

You fight him, ignore him until your sat in the backseat of a Honda with the window cracked, sucking in ragged breathes.

He’s right, you’re not ok at all.

Your phone buzzes, and you look down, expecting to see a text from what’s his face at the bar. Instead it’s one you know, one you should probably call and ask to come over before you do something stupid.

Timo

Hey sweets, how was your night out? Home safe?

You’ll text him when you get home, you tell yourself. Let him know you’re ok, even if he doesn’t believe it. Eventually it has to be true.

Right?

~~~~

August

Timo and him haven’t been the same. Not in a while, no matter how much his friend likes to pretend everything is normal.

Nico can feel it though, in the silences Timo won’t fill, the questions and comments he ignores when they’re working. He’s stopped sitting with Nico at the bar, stopped drinking with him as much. Even if Timo acts like they’re ok, Nico knows better.

“Think Jack needs a sober weekend,” Nico says, conversationally “put him on security next weekend.” Timo hums, unlocking his phone and typing it into the schedule.

They’re not drunk, not even buzzed really. They’d been too busy making sure Jack didn’t bust his head open running around the bar tonight, feeding girls drink after drink and trying to send them Nico’s way.

He appreciates the kid, he does. But he was tired of his shit. So they loaded him into the car and dropped his skinny butt off at the loft. Then they decided to just head home, too late to want to go back and drink in peace.

Truth be told though, Nico doesn’t think Timo would have a beer with him anyway.

“Got it.” Timo says glumly, locking his phone. They drive in silence for another moment, Nico’s throat itching to say what he should say.

That he��s sorry, that he shouldn’t even have fucked with you in the first place. You were Timo’s friend first, and now he doesn’t see you, doesn’t talk to you. Because of Nico.

But he doesn’t, because he knows he did what was right. And if Timo’s gonna be mad at him for that well he can handle it.

Nico reaches to turn up the music, but the screen in the car flashes and Nico’s heart jumps into his throat.

Speak of the devil.

Your name is on the screen. For a moment he thinks it’s him you’re calling, that it’s him you need. But Timo’s phone is connected, he’s the one that was playing music. He’s the one you’re calling.

Before Timo can answer it privately Nico is tapping the green button, answering it for him.

Muffled music comes through the speakers, indistinguishable voices yelling and partying in the background. You’re out. You’re out and having fun at a bar or a club or something. Probably looking just as good as you did in his bar and he’s not there to see it. To see you.

His blood rushes, anger burning under his skin and he grips the wheel tighter, jaw ticking. He did this, this is his fault.

“Hey,” Timo answers, cautiously. Nico can feel his friend eyeing him, scared and tentative. “What’s up sweets?”

Nico waits with baited breath for the sound of your voice, to hear you drunk and happy as you slur to Timo in that sweet voice of yours.

He gets the exact opposite.

“Timo?” You sniffle, and it’s like all the air in the car gets sucked out. You’re crying, you’re out somewhere and something is wrong and you’re crying.

Nico bites his tongue to stay quiet.

“Yeah it’s me, what’s wrong?” Timo asks, calm and steady. “Where are you?”

He sounds…knowing. Like he’s done this before, has this conversation with you before. Nico wonders how many times you’ve actually called Timo, if you two still talk even after everything.

“I’m at a party,” you hiccup, and for a moment everything goes quiet, the party muffled. Nico wonders where you went, who you’re with. Even if it’s not his right to know. “I-will you come get me? Please?”

“Yes of course.” Timo agrees, “just tell me where you are.”

“I don’t know,” you cry, sniffling even more. “I-it isn’t my-Timo.”

Nico’s panicking, ears ringing as your cries fill the car. Timo’s already on his phone, pulling up his Find My app. You’ve given him your location.

Smart girl, Nico thinks proudly and bitterly. You’ve always been so smart.

“It’s ok I’ve got you,” his friend promises, “I found you. Gonna come get you right now, ok?”

You make a whimpered sound, like you’re choking on whatever you were trying to say. Nico is helpless, driving numbly as Timo shows him the address silently. He turns, changing directions to head to Jersey City.

“Y/n,” Timo says sternly. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, a hushed whisper. Like you’re hiding from something.

“I need you to breathe,” Timo instructs, and Nico steps harder on the gas. Imagines you hurt and scared, in a house you don’t know with a bunch of fucks that shouldn’t be anywhere near you.

“Ok,” you reply, but neither of them actually hear you trying. Nico just hears the party, muffled and far away.

“Are you somewhere safe?” Timo asks, glancing at Nico again.

“Yeah,” you agree, just as quiet.

“Are you ok?”

It silent for too long, long enough for Nico to know that you’re thinking about it. Trying to decide what to say.

Instead you say, “I love you T.”

Nico sucks in a sharp breath, hopes you can’t hear it. Then he imagines you saying it to him, hates Timo a little bit because he never got to hear that from you.

“I love you too kid.” Timo says, gentle and comforting. “Just hang on for a bit, I’ll be there soon ok?”

“I’m upstairs,” you say, “the last door on the right. Because he’s downstairs.”

Nico doesn’t know who he is. Doesn’t know if he wants to know. Maybe you did move on, maybe you tried and it didn’t work out. Maybe this guy is a fucking asshole. That’s who you’re hiding from. Someone who hurt you.

And from the looks of it, has been doing it for a bit. Because Timo seems to get it, knows who you’re talking about. He looks at Nico sadly, a tormented look in his eyes before answering.

“I know sweets, just hang on for me.”

“My phone is gonna die.” You say, the drunkenness in your voice coming through for the first time tonight. Not in that fun and flirty way Nico’s used to hearing, but in a pained way. Guilt gnaws at his stomach. “I’m gonna hang up.”

He doesn’t want you to. He wants to hear you, to listen to you until he knows you’re safe. But this isn’t his conversation.

“Ok, I’ll see you in a sec.”

“See you.”

Then the line goes dead. Music filters into the car again, not that Nico is listening to it. Timo shifts uncomfortably in his seat, turns to watch Nico’s profile curiously.

“Who is he?” Nico finally asks, certain that even if it hurts, he has to know. He can’t just ignore the fact that you and Timo have been hiding this asshole from Nico for who knows how long.

Timo sighs. “It’s you,” he admits, “she gets drunk and she sees you. Everywhere.”

Nico’s been shot before. Not fully, just nicks and grazes that bleed and burn, need stitches. But he imagines it’d feel like this if he were to fully get hit, if a bullet dug its way into his chest and settled there, breaking his ribs and shattering everything inside.

Him. He’s the asshole. He’s the one that hurt you, that’s been torturing and scaring you. You’re hiding from him, crying because of him.

It’s poetic, Nico thinks, that he was ready to run in there and get you, save you from whoever wasn’t treating you right. Whoever was taking advantage of you. And this whole time it was him.

“How often,” Nico asks, voice breaking and he has to clear his throat, steady himself. “How often does she call?”

Timo shrugs. “We talk almost everyday. She’s only like this a few nights out of the week, when she’s with her friends.”

A few night. Nico’s never known you to drink like that, to get wasted almost every night. Aren’t you working? Doing something with that degree you were so proud of? He was so proud of?

You’re supposed to be working and be happy, doing something you love. Not partying, drinking yourself into hallucinations of him hurting you.

“I-I didn’t know, Timo.” Nico admits, pained. “I didn’t know it’d end up like this, I never thought she’d…”

“Who cares,” Timo huffs, annoyed and bitter. “She drinks herself stupid and calls me. You go out and get your ass kicked, and call no one. So who cares?”

Nico doesn’t know what to say. He just keeps driving.

~~~~

Nico shouldn’t be here. He knows he shouldn’t, knows you’re going to go berserk when you see him, but he’s a dumb man and he can’t stay away.

Even if it hurts you and him.

He’s pacing on the sidewalk outside the stupid house Timo had disappeared into ten minutes ago. Anxious, Nico’s fighting to not go into the house himself and find you.

He can’t though, you’re not his to be rescuing.

Truth be told, he’s scared too. The last time he saw you was a little over a month ago, a Wednesday afternoon when he realized that he was falling in love with you. Even worse, he realized you might be falling in love with him.

So he broke off whatever it was you guys were doing, not dating, not friends with benefits, but something in between.

“I hope that one day you’ll finally let someone love you, Nico.”

Your final words replay in his head as he slumps against his car, checking his phone for the umpteenth time. Still nothing.

After what feels like years, the front door of the house opens and Timo emerges, gently guiding you by the elbow with him.

Nico feels like he’s been hit in the gut. Even when you’re a drunken, college party mess you look beautiful. He’s frozen, just staring at you with wide eyes until you spot him.

Eyes glossy from crying on the phone, you stop walking and hold his gaze for a moment. Frantically, you’re tugging out of Timo’s hold and backing up towards the house again.

Nico can’t stop you, what’s he supposed to say? That he’s sorry? That he’s changed his mind? That maybe you two can be friends?

Timo follows you, harsh whispers and hushed arguing as he shields you from Nico’s view. Then you fall silent, Timo stepping aside so he can see you again.

“Y/n…” Nico sighs, stepping forward and half reaching out for you. You’re crying again, silent tears slipping down your cheeks and the tip of your sniffling nose red.

“I don’t want to see you,” you say, voice wobbling. “I didn’t call you, I didn’t ask you to come here.”

Despite the wave of emotion in your words, Nico would have no indication of how much you’re hurting. Your gaze is firm and angry, so compelling that he feels two feet tall even though he’s the one towering over you.

“You can’t honestly think that I’d hear that call and not come,” Nico explains, sighing in disbelief. He pauses, thinks about how his heart fell into his stomach when Timo answered your call on the car bluetooth and you were crying. You sounded so small, so scared and nothing could ever keep Nico from you after hearing that.

Not even his own stupid decisions in the past.

“It’s not you’re right to come here,” you argue, glancing over at Timo who’s decided to give you two space. “You didn’t want me Nico, you made that very clear. You can’t just decide to finally be my hero again because you feel guilty.”

Nico likes to think he’s good at keeping his emotions in check. He can keep his calm, cool demeanor in the face of almost anything.

He can’t right now. Not when all these new and raw feelings were eating at him from the inside out, constantly. And you were acting like he didn’t feel anything for you, like this is fun for him.

“Of course I want you!” He shouts, “You’re the only one I’ve ever want, but I can’t have you!” His outburst catches the attention of some of the college kids milling around the front porch. You huff, taking ahold of his wrist and dragging him back towards the car.

“What do you mean?” You sniffle, wiping at your cheeks and crossing your arms over your chest. “I tried Nico, I was ready to give up everything for you and you sent me packing. You told me what it takes and when I said I could do it, that I wanted to do it, you took it all back.

“The only one who’s kept us apart is you.”

You’re right. And it hurts. Even drunk and upset, it’s clear in your mind what he’s done. He’s turned you away, after asking you for everything, he said no. He’s a hypocrite. A hypocrite that has hurt you so badly he doesn’t even deserve to be standing here in front of you.

But he’s selfish. And he loves you.

“Timo wasn’t supposed to bring you,” you spit, “so leave.”

It’s mean, you’re mean. Nico has no right to be offended by it, but he is. So he smiles, tilts his head all mockingly and pulls open the back door.

“Tough shit baby, this is my car so get in.” He motions for you to move. The pet name stirred something in you, knocked you off your axis because you’re blinking at him with a fresh wave of tears in your eyes.

“Don’t call me that,” you shake your head, eyes fluttering closed and he can see the way your chest rises and falls heavily, the red splotches on your throat.

Guilty, he reaches out for your elbow, wants to touch you, to make it better. His fingers graze your skin, but you move away from him, hugging yourself.

“I hate you,” you whimper, stepping back again and Nico follows. You’ve locked onto that though, crying and wailing that you hate him, you hate him, you hate him. And you’re pushing at his chest and hands, manic as you cry and hit him.

Nico can’t do anything but stand there and take it. He doesn’t even try to catch your swinging fists, lets you hit his chest and shoulders with a strength that’s shocking for how drunk you are.

Timo eventually comes over, when your words have turned to heartbreaking cries and then the hitting stops. He opens his eyes, blurry with tears as his friend wraps you up in his arms, muttering something into your ear. You cry quietly, leaning into Timo as he gets you into the backseat of the car.

Pausing at the door, Timo turns to him, blue eyes ablaze with anger. He’s never looked at Nico like that before. “You were supposed to say sorry or something nice, you fucking idiot. Not mock her.”

“Timo I-“

“Just shut up and drive the fucking car.”

Nico shuts up, goes around to the drivers side. He’s silent as he gets in, silent as he buckles up, silent as he starts it and puts it in drive. You’re all silent, except for the low sounds of you still crying.

Nico glances back, sees you lying in Timo’s lap with a shine of tears over your eyes. Your cheeks are wet and ruddy, bottom lip trembling and Timo strokes through your hair.

“Should I take you home?” Timo asks gently, and Nico looks forward again. He can’t stand looking at you, looking at the mess he made.

“No,” you whimper, “I can’t go home.”

“Why not?” Timo’s so good at this, at being soft and comforting, at speaking to you like you’re the most precious thing. Nico always thought he could be good at that, but he guesses tonight proved that he’s not.

“They’re not my friends.” Your voice cracks, and he can picture the tears rolling down your temples again.

“Sure they are, why wouldn’t they be?”

“Friends don’t say things like that to people they care about.”

Nico thinks maybe you’ve forgotten him, drunk brain too jumbled and hurt to remember he’s the one driving the car. He can’t imagine you’d want to say these things around him.

“What did they say?” Timo asks and you must shake your head or something because he repeats the question, more stern this time.

“They said I was stupid,” you sniffle, embarrassed. Nico wants to turn around, to stomp into that house and show them just how stupid they for saying anything about you. “That I was stupid and naive for following Nico when they told me to run.”

Ouch, Nico winces. He knew they never liked him, pretty much only tolerated him for free drinks at the Rock. He had no idea how many people in your life were saying to leave him.

“They said I deserve to feel like this for giving up everything for him. It’s what I get for being stupid.”

Deserve this? No one deserves this, especially not you. Nico thought you’d thrive without him, that when he found you again you’d have your dream job and a nice apartment and Moose and you’d be happy. That maybe you’d be happy with him again.

Not this. If he knew at all that it’d be like this he never would’ve done it. He can’t even begin to imagine how this happened, how you got like this. He was this important to you?

“You’re not stupid,” Timo assures, “remember we said that? It’s not stupid to give up something for something better?”

Better, you thought he was better than everything you had before. Nico swallows heavily, wiping at his own cheeks because he’s started crying too.

“It’s not a sacrifice if what you got in return is worth more.”

You sniffle, a whimpered noise coming from deep in your chest. “Yeah well now I don’t have him either.”

Timo goes quiet, meets Nico’s crying eyes through the mirror and in that glance Nico knows his friend is about to say the worst thing possible.

“You love him though, and that’s worth it, right?”

You never answer. Nico keeps driving towards Timo place, fighting to see through his own teary eyes. He’s starting to see why Timo’s been so cold lately.

~~~~

Nico didn’t sleep.

He went home and paced. Took a hot shower. Texted Timo to check on you. And then paced some more when he didn’t get an answer.

He laid in bed until the sun came up, stared up at his ceiling and thought of all the nights you slept next to him, that he stared up at the exact same ceiling but you were pressed into his side. Your head on his shoulder, his hand on your hip and he thought “holy fuck, how did I get her here?”

You loved him. That’s how everything got so out of hand. Nico thought he’d caught it sooner, that he called it off before it got that far. But you already loved him and he broke your heart.

He thinks back on it now, if there were signs of you being in love. At the time, he thought you were just like that. Sweet and caring by nature, generous and loving. You weren’t giving him special treatment, you were like that all the time.

Now though, he think maybe he was wrong. He was special to you. And that love he knew was coming for him with impending doom had already settled deep in you.

Idiot, he thinks, knocking on Timo’s door. He’s a fucking idiot and he doesn’t deserve a chance to fix this but he wants one. He wants to fix you. He’s ready to do it.

It’s you that answers the door, eyes still puffy and red. Your hair is tied back in a terribly messy braid, a black shirt and sweats from Timo on your frame. You’ve got no socks on, and Nico internally cringes, knowing how much you hate being barefoot.

“Timo’s asleep,” you say, not looking at him but rather at his chest.

“I came for you,” he says, and then he’s holding out the matcha latte he got for you. One from that cafe under his apartment, the one you love so much because they carry the pistachio flavoring you like in your drinks.

You take the cup, holding it awkwardly in your hand as you stand in the doorway.

“I don’t really want to talk to you.”

Oh, Nico doesn’t really have any argument for that. To be honest, he thought you’d be mad enough for another round to fight with him.

“You were mean last night,” you say quietly, dropping your gaze to his shoes.

“I was scared,” he says in a lame excuse. “You being like, it scared me. I didn’t-I’ve never seen you like that.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He sees the moment you notice the bruise on his jaw, eyes frowning with a guilt you shouldn’t carry. “Did I do that?”

He shakes his head. “No, that was…I’ve been working a lot.”

“Oh.”

“You got me pretty good on the shoulder though.”

Nico tries to smile, hoping it would make you too. Instead you look at him, eyes locking on the dimple in his cheek and you’re looking away again.

“I used to be able to take care of myself,” you mumble, almost ashamed. “I just never thought you’d be on the other end of it.”

Nico swallows, watches the way condensation is building on your fingers from holding your drink. The ice is melting.

“Will you walk with me?” He asks, desperate. “Please y/n?”

Maybe it’s the way his voice shakes, or that he’s using your real name, but you finally look at him. Then you nod just once. “Let me find my shoes.” The door closes on him and he’s left waiting outside, like an idiot in love.

~~~~

You walk next to him along the water front, finally sipping on the latte he got you. He wants to reach out for your hand, wants to wipe away the little bit of foam on your lip but you get it before he can.

It’s awkward, the way you won’t look at him and he can’t stop looking at you. Manhattan stands tall behind you, towering across the river and glinting in the morning sun. Nico wishes he could take a picture of you, with your drink and your messy hair and the pretty background.

He loves you.

Now he just needs to say it out loud.

“I wasn’t lying last night,” he finally says. “When I said that I’ve always wanted you. I’ll always want you.

You don’t miss a beat. “Why’d you lie to me?”

He frowns, wonders what the hell you’re talking about. You look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“When you broke up with me, you said I wasn’t what you want.”

Nico thinks back to that day in the car when he’d dropped you off for the last time, tries to remember everything he said.

“It’s not what I want either.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nico gasps, mentally kicking himself. You thought he meant he didn’t want you, this whole time. “I meant that I didn’t-I didn’t want you to want me.”

You stop walking, furious as you glare at him in the middle of the sidewalk. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I wanted you,” he begins, soft and careful with his words. He can’t screw this up again, can’t hurt you like before. “I could feel it, the way you fit with me so perfectly. But I was-I was just a fucking kid with a lot of money and no idea how to grow up. I never had a reason to grow up.

“I couldn’t be selfish and drag you into that. What kind of man would I be if I brought you into a life like that? It wasn’t safe, I couldn’t protect you.”

You look him up and down, those pretty lips of yours pulled into a frown and your eyebrows pinched with anger. “So what? You grew up in a month? You’re finally an adult now?”

A lady runs by, scoffing and glaring as she ducks around the two fighting in her path. Nico huffs, flipping her off. She gasps, outraged and before Nico can tell her to fuck off you’re shoving his hand down.

He looks back to you, eyes guilty and pleading. “No, I mean yeah. I just needed time baby, I need to make sure that I could do this with you.”

Another couple is coming by, and he reached for your hand. You don’t shake him off when he pulls you off to the side and into the grass, away from everyone. He lets go of you before you have the satisfaction of rejecting his touch.

“You did all this just because you needed time?” You laugh, humorlessly. Then you’re stalking away, and he follows after you like an idiot, tripping on his feet because he thinks you’ve really given up on him this time.

You’re just throwing your drink away though, turning to find him stumbling after you. His desperation must show because you soften, letting out a careful sigh as he holds his breath.

“I wasn’t asking you to marry me Nico,” you say, “I just wanted to be with you.”

“I know that,” he agrees, ashamed as he looks down at his feet. “But I wasn’t getting in this to be with you for just a bit. I knew once I officially had you that I could never let you go, so yeah I needed to be ready.”

He looks up and to his horror you’re crying again, tears reflecting the morning light and cheeks red. Nico can’t stop himself this time, can’t ignore what his hearts been telling him to do for weeks now. His hand finds your hip, drawing you into him and you go easily, like you’ve been waiting for it too.

It’s perfect, the way you fit into his chest. Your hands tucked between you and him, perfectly in the curve at the base of his ribs, head in the junction of his neck and shoulder. Safe. Protected. You shudder, a sound of content leaving you and then you’re crying again, like all you needed to know was that you’re safe to be vulnerable here.

“I would’ve waited for you,” you hiccup into his hoodie, and he squeezes his eyes shut, fighting back his own tears. His nose presses into the top of your head, breathing in the smell of you and the faint smell of Timo lingering on your clothes. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve waited.”

He shakes his head, holds you tighter. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. What if it took me longer? What if it had taken me years? No I wanted you to be you, to use your degree and that big brain of yours and be happy. And that way when it was our time again, you’d be ready.”

You wail even more, the sound hurting something deep in his chest. “I was ready,” you swear, “I was ready for you Nico. I didn’t want anything else. I’ve been waiting anyway, haven’t I?”

He doesn’t know what to say, what else to do. So he just holds you, shushing you quietly. He waits until you’re sniffling, calming down before speaking again.

“I didn’t know, I didn’t know you loved me until last night. Baby you have to know I would’ve done it differently if I knew.”

Much to his dismay, you pull back just enough to look at him, chin pressed into his chest. Your eyelashes are dark and clumped together, lips red and raw. “I still do,” you murmur. “I have for a long time.”

Nico winces, sucking in a breath. You still haven’t said it, not really but he knows that you’re going to. He needs to say it first though.

Licking his lips, he blinks back tears. “I love you,” he whispers, “I love you so much it’s all consuming and it’s dangerous and I’ve been miserable without you.”

“I can’t fix you Nico,” you mumble sadly, “if you decide that you suddenly can’t do this again I won’t- I can’t fix you.”

“You don’t need to fix me,” he promises, “I did it all. I did the work, I fixed me. And I love you.”

Shockingly, you laugh. A beautiful and wet giggle that has you shaking against his chest. You’re smiling at him though, bright and oh so pretty. “I know Nico,” you roll your eyes, teasingly. “I’ve known you loved me since January.”

His birthday, he thinks. You threw him a party, brought him a gift. The only one of them to do so, even his friends since childhood had never done that. They always said it wasn’t something they think he’d like. You knew though, and you wanted to do it for him.

Yeah, he thinks you’re right. Even if he didn’t know it at the time.

“I was really stupid then,” he mumbles, brushing your hair away from your wet cheeks. “Breaking up with you like that when you already knew.”

“Yeah you were a fucking idiot.” You agree, and he frowns, only the tiniest bit offended. But then you’re wiggling an arm out to wrap it around his back, fingers gripping the hem of his hoodie at the small of his back. “But you’re my idiot, right?”

Nico brushes a kiss to your forehead, nodding “I’m your idiot, if you’ll still have me.”

You scoff, like it’s the dumbest thing he’s ever said. Truth is, it’s not. Not by a long shot. “Of course I’ll still have you.”

He hums, laying his cheek on your head and closing his eyes. He wants to soak this in, feel you with him exactly where you’re supposed to be. Your nose ghosts over his cheek, lips right where that bruise on his jaw is.

“You didn’t move on?” You ask him, almost afraid to hear the answer. Nico thinks maybe you’re stupid too, for thinking he could ever move on.

“No,” he assures, “I was only trying to catch up with you.”

You kiss his jaw, just once. A soft little butterfly kiss to the bruise there. Goosebumps raise on his skin, mouth aching to feel yours. He doesn’t dare move a muscle. “Did you? Move on at all?”

Your hand finds his chest, pressing back until you part enough to see him. “Not a single bit,” you say, “even if I wanted to I couldn’t.”

He smiles. “Good.” You rise to your toes, mouth just a breath away from his. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders if you brushed your teeth this morning. If the hangover stopped you, if the heartbreak did. He doesn’t really care though.

“I love you Nico.”

Nico doesn’t know if it’s possible to physically hear how own heart break, opening up for you in a way he’s never done before. It’s hurts in the best way possible, scary but beautiful. He sniffles, leaning in and finally kissing you.

It’s soft and sweet, a short kiss but so worth it after so long of not having you. That crack in his chest throbs, soothed by the feeling of you holding your hand over his heartbeat. You love him.

You’re smiling so wide when he opens his eyes again, falling back to the balls of your feet and beaming up at him. You’ve always looked at him with so much warmth, so much joy. Like he’s the sun and you’re the flower chasing after him, growing in his attention.

“I missed that pretty smile.” He murmurs, and you laugh, wet and broken but happy. “Can’t believe I get to see it again.”

“Yeah well you’re not off the hook that easily.” You murmur, moving to wrap yourself around his arm. Then you’re pulling him back onto the sidewalk, walking back towards Timo’s place. “Get me breakfast. And Timo too please.”

Nico squeezes your hand, looking forward with a smile. “Yes ma’am.”

[divinedelusional]

how rafe would treat his gf on her period

rafe cameron x fem reader

word count: 796

warnings: menstruation, mentions of toxic relationship and period sex

a/n: yeah this is how rafe treats his girl on her period but also how he would be like in a relationship throughout the seasons? i got carried away, sorry not sorry

s1 rafe: sooo i feel like fratboy!rafe genuinely doesn't give a fuck, i don't even know if he would be capable of being in a relationship. i see him being involved with a girl but only for sex and he would only know she's on her period bc she would just text him that they can't meet today bc of it and he'd be like "uh huh cool" and would go jerk off

s2 rafe: here i think situation would be slightly different. i think our psycho bby could acc develop feelings for a girl, it would mostly be just sex but he could start falling for someone. so i think he'd fight a battle in his mind if he should come over to the girl's house and be there for her on her period or to completely neglect her. it's just he doesn't have a clue what to do and tbh he's occupied with other shit, he uses sex with her to forget. i think it's very similar to s1 rafe but with guilt and feelings creeping in (and obvious denial for this emotions)

s3 rafe: so okay we all know the shift from curtain bangs psycho rafey to buzz cut man of the house rafe who looked like he's getting his shit together. of course that means he's different when it comes to relationships. he still deals with a lot, but he finds you. and he kinda sees you as this light. a small light who he has to be very careful with so it won't go out. he is attentive to you. treats you right, but with some sort of distance and you don't blame him. he doesn't spend every day with you, he didn't even ask you to be his girlfriend yet, didn't make it official but he will and somehow you know it. when you're on your period you become quiet. you don't text him, but he finds out as he had a feeling that he should drop by your house. he finds you on your couch with a heating bag and cookies. you told him you weren't feeling well and he ordered you hot soup and made a quick run to pharmacy for some medicine. he still was clueless and thought you caught a cold. "rafe im not sick im just on my period" "oh" it's not like he avoids you, no. he visits you everday for the next four days but doesn't stay for long, always excusing himself with some meeting or business. you know he means the best for you but wish that he's going to be able to let you in soon. you're really patient with him, but start having doubts.

s4 rafe: is now fully committed to you. you talked to him how you really felt about this relationship. that you really cared and wanted to give him as much time as he needed, but also you couldn't waste it anymore waiting for him. and rafe realized that nobody else would have such patience for him. he was thinking about you a lot and he admitted to himself that you were the one. he made your relationship official and two months later you were living together. he was spoiling you, really. taking you on dates, buying you gifts and most importantly giving you his time. getting to know you, observing your daily habits, remembering stuff you said. your likes and dislikes. no wonder he became pussy whipped. and started to feel like he knows you better than yourself.

that's why when it's that time of the month you don't have to say anything. rafe knows. just by the way you whine when you wake up, he knows if you'd be able to get out of bed and get on with your day or you'd want to stay in bed cuddling, because he's your personal heater, makes back pain go away. gives you massages. cuddles with you all morning untill your stomach start to signal that it's time for some food. oh and he doesn't care about his schedule. he could clear it off, cancel the meetings, but he doesn't bother. his girl is the most important, his business associates don't even deserve a phone call on a day his girl is in pain. also he's not opposed to period sex at. all. orgasm is a great way to reduce cramps, so if that works for you and you want him to help you, he is the happiest to do so. if you're not comfortable with having sex these days he totally understands. wouldn't even thought of forcing you to do something, on your period or not. when he discovered that he has so much love in him, his only interest is to give it to you♡

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

tagging: @sugaraanddiesel @cherrylipglossss hope they'll enjoy it and @cameronsprincess bc maybe it will put a smile on her face♡

[mimiii-3]

I LOVE SABOTEURR , that's such a cool conceptt, how would they realize they're also yandere for the reader ?

Hmmm great question🤔

…

Saboteur Pt.3

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: typical yandere themes, stupid batboys

…

Bruce

Bruce was grateful to leave for patrol after the emotionally exhausting confrontation between you and your brothers. Bruce sits atop Gotham’s Cathedral, covered by the shadow of an imposing gargoyle.

His cowl masks the sour expression that’s stuck on his face. He can’t remember the last time you raised your voice in the manor. Let alone at him.

The hurt in your voice as you made your long-brewing confession rings in his ears. How long has his sweet child felt this way? When was the last time he asked you how you were doing? How long has he been such a deadbeat?

Rain starts to fall over Gotham like a hazy blanket. The wind grows crisp but fails to subside the simmering anger that festers in Gotham’s dark knight.

Dick

The drive to Bludhaven seems to be endless as Dick weaves in and out of traffic. His slender fingers drum nervously against the wheel. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong.

He just can’t seem to place it. Were you always this complicated? Since when were you so desperate for attention?

Dick shakes his head in disbelief. The timid soul he’s known all these years is a fraud…a shyster. He doesn’t know whether to feel pity or anger.

One on hand he’s mad that you’ve been lying to the family for who knows how long. On the other hand he can’t help but feel bad for his little sibling.

Dick’s conflicted emotions wear at his easy-going persona. He sucks his teeth and eases back into the seat. He needs time. Time to think this through. Time to decide what he’ll do to you when he finds out where you’ve gone.

Tim

Tim mindlessly scrolls through the videos and screenshots of you framing their darling. Your work is amateurish but somehow skated by them.

There’s one picture that stands out to him. He increases the image on the monitor. It shows Bruce patting the top of your head while you practically beam at him.

A simple pat on the head and you’re happy as a clam. Tim never realized how easy it was to win your affection. If he had known, maybe he’d have given you a hug every once and a while.

Tim’s imagination drifts off as he picks through the security tapes. Each one leaving a trail of jealousy in their wake.

Damian

Impressive. His older, idiotic sibling is more capable than he thought. You’ve been framing the family’s darling for months without a hint of remorse.

He feels almost proud of you. Such viscous behavior while simultaneously pretending to be darling’s friend. How cutthroat of his completely useless sibling.

Damian, curious to learn more about the deceiver living in his home, makes his way to your room. He opens your bedroom’s sticker-covered door and scrunches his nose. The smell of overlapping, burnt candles wafts out of the room.

The walls of your room drip with personality. Damian takes one long look and shuts the door behind him. What else have you been hiding from his all this time?

…

Extra Notes: the calm before the storm🫣

[dustisus]

Imagine you are Erik Klose. You get an exchange student who is obviously not doing alright, but you and your family show him that there is nothing wrong with him. Over the year he comes out of his shell and you are so in love with the vibrant person who has been hiding in there all year so you tell him you love him and he tells you he loves you too.

He goes back home but he returns (for you) when there is nothing left for him there, and your family is so ready to embrace him as one of their own. You catch him and your grandma in the kitchen, and she's teaching him the family recipe for Spätzle and he's teaching her the ingredients' names in Spanish. When the winter comes he is always the first one to volunteer to shovel snow with your father. When warmer temperatures come you wake up to his voice streaming in from the window where he always has breakfast with your mother. Your family loves him, so when he decides to move away again to take care of his own family (we are your family, too, you tell him, and he just smiles) they cry just as much as you do. The night before he has to wake up early to catch his plane you ask him to marry you, in the future, when it's legal, and he says yes. Still you wake up from his alarm early in the morning and his kiss goodbye.

At first you speak on the phone every day but then a job takes you across the country and takes all your time, and when his first job doesn't make him enough money for a three-bedroom house, he gets another one, and then another, until you have to schedule calls days in advance and most days you just text. But he tells you again and again that those boys need him, and from the sound of it, they do need someone to love them. And who will love them like your fiancé will love them? You have never met a person so capable of love, of engagement, in your life.

The call comes one early morning and he says that one of the twins has been arrested, that he has gotten into a fight, that it was to defend him, and doesn't mention until several minutes into the frantic call that it was him that he was defending. He says he has a smarting rib but is okay but what will happen to his cousin? I don't care, you don't say.

Finally the twins turn 18 and you start a countdown until they graduate in the spring, but come March he calls you and says they have all been offered full-ride scholarships, on the term that they all play Exy. The coach says he needs to keep an eye on Andrew, and maybe that would be for the best? he asks, and then when can start a life together I'd have a degree, and... and... By the time the call ends, he's convinced, and you could never step on his dreams.

Over the first year he calls you and tells you about his asshole teammates, and of how he answers on Andrew's beck and call to make sure things run somewhat smoothly within the team. You hear him pause slightly before choosing his words, consciously choosing the most innocent ones for his twins and the most incriminating ones for himself.

In the summer he comes home to you, but the summer is too short.

The next year, his texts dwindle and on your calls he sniffles but says he's not crying. He calls and says he did something bad and whatever comes to him it's his fault, but won't elaborate. This sounds like what he was saying when he first met you, so you comfort him and says it isn't. It's just been difficult, he says, when a teammate's died. You want to tell him it's so simple here, so simple to you, but you don't. It's not what he needs to hear.

The next few months are a shitshow that you only hear about from his calls and texts, and then eventually some news articles that reach you from the other side of the world. It worries you to know that he is distantly involved with some of the people that are not mentioned by name in the articles, but that you recognize from his stories. Once again, you tell yourself that he knows how to manage it, has always been able to manage it.

The chaos culminates at the championship finals and you are there to see it all go down. He turns his head to you, shouts your name as you spot the opposite player come close to killing your fiancé's friend. He lives, but the opposite player doesn't, and there are no loud celebrations for you to take part in. That night you and your fiancé celebrate quietly, on your own. You have not seen him in almost a year, and it's as if some of the vibrancy has run out of him. His eyes lack a glint, his hair a shine.

You stay a week and you meet the twins in person for the first time. Andrew is more subdued now than in past stories, Aaron feistier. You don't care much for them, but they are important to Nicky, so you make an effort. Neither will talk to you.

It only takes two days until Aaron catches you cuddling on the sofa in the dorm and you overhear an ew. It bewilders you but Nicky is falling asleep so you just continue running your fingers through his hair. The next day all of the Foxes have gathered for a film night, and Nicky has talked about how excited he is for you to meet them and introduces you to them with a joke and a flourish. They tell him to shut up, and Nicky laughs it off as a joke. Maybe you just did not get it. The rest of the night they try to pull you into also harping on Nicky, and get bored when you just say that you love him.

A week into your visit, Andrew pulls a knife on Nicky, and all the moments you have shared with him, all the ones you have planned, flash before your eyes. Nicky doesn't even seem scared, and the Foxes around them watch you curiously instead of the crime before them. Before you know what you're doing you have grabbed Andrew to pull him off, pull him away, but you're quickly overpowered.

Nicky cries as he patches you up. You understand he had not wanted you to see that, and you don't know what to say. You pull up the edge of his shirt to find small scars patterning the bottom of his abdoment, and for the first time you see them as what they are and not as a result of the game. You ask how often this happens, and he says only when I deserve it. He says it and you watch yourself transported, sitting in Berlin with a boy who said I deserved it, and once again you tell him he has never deserved this. You tell him he needs to leave, to please go back home with you, that they are not his family, but he says he can't. You have not seen him so grey in years.

He sees you off at the airport when you leave. Once again you plead for him to come with you, and once again he says he can't. You know you can't force it, can only say that you'll wait as long as it takes.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Now and Tomorrow and Everyday After (Sylus x F! Reader) MDNI 18+

Synopsis: In spite of the 'tails' attempts to separate you from Sylus, it only seems to bring the two of you closer.

CW: Fingering, Oral (Female receiving), P in V, Praise Kink, after care, adult themes

Author Disclaimer- I do not own the LADS characters or lore and did use some dialogue from the recent banner's Sylus Card. I do NOT use AI and do not permit anyone else (or any other entity) to copy and advertise my work as their own. Definitely not proof read or edited because I was having “don’t post fear” and just needed to go for it.

Author Note: I made an attempt and this is my first time writing Sylus and posting it so yeah! Thanks for reading- all kind comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! Remember, to be kind to yourself and others today! I also high key think Sylus is going to this zone to protect MC from Ever cause he makes mention of that but that's beside the point.

 *this is my take on the Night of Secrecy Card. I wanted to fill in some gaps*

You pick at your nails nervously under the warm air of the AC. The city of Linkon passes you by- your eyes flickering to Sylus every so often as he drives you both to one of his safe houses. 

 Your nerves are on fire- not from the danger of whatever pot Sylus decided to stir up, but rather the fact that tonight is the night.

 Or so you have decided.

 And the night meaning boning. You want to bone this man hard.

Okay- wait, it’s probably more like make love to, but you aren’t sure where you stand in Sylus’ life or if his feelings are all that deep.

 And would he even be capable of feeling that way towards you? 

 The thought makes that tight ring of nerves turn into a heavy ball in the pit of your stomach. Sylus really means a lot to you and you feel he shares that sentiment, but you have also been wrong before and it ended up just being a friends with benefits situation. You weren’t “girlfriend material” as you often joked with Tara. 

 But he is having you tag along, you think, he didn’t say he didn’t want you around. He just said he was leaving to protect you so maybe-

 “What are you agonizing about over there?”

 Shit.

“If you changed your mind-“

“No!” You say probably too abruptly, “I’m fine- everything is great, better than great even! Just thinking.”

Sylus chuckles and you don’t even have to look at him to know he is seeing right through. He knows you better than anyone at this point and he knows when something is bothering you.

 You would honestly consider Sylus the closest thing to a best friend you could ever have. You can confide in him, depend on him, and you have a lot of fun with him.

 For the most part, you think he has learned to depend on you, confide in you, and he certainly seems to enjoy himself when he is in your company. Luke and Kieran say they can tell when he’s been with you because he’s less trigger happy with the people he’s dealing with (which you’ll take as a win if you need to find one somewhere). 

 Not to mention- the way his hands were splayed along your thighs last night when he sat you on the kitchen counter was mind numbingly intimate. His fingers drew gentle shapes on your bare skin and left goosebumps in their wake. Sylus’ forehead was pressed against your own and his lips mere inches away, but he didn’t kiss you and you have been thinking about that all day. 

 What if he didn’t want to because he’s just trying to lead you on until you are of no use to him? What if all of these nice things and words and actions are all just to make sure you will still help him and resonating won’t be an issue again? 

 “What is it?” His voice is gentle, “maybe I can help you be less… befuddled.”

 You shoot him a look that earns you a laugh, but you can see the genuine concern in his eyes. Sylus has been so invested in hiding you from the worst parts of his world and now that he’s opened up, he’s worried he’s lost you unintentionally and that all the time you have spent together is long forgotten. 

 You shrink slightly into your seat- avoiding his eyes the best you can and you say your question as quietly as you possibly can.

“I didn’t catch that, Kitten.”

 You say it slightly louder now but still not enough and you can feel the deadpan look he is giving you.

“Howdoyouknowifsomeoneisromanticallyinterestedinyou?”

 It’s all a bunch of gibberish, you had been far more confident of your assessment of his feelings when you were both walking and he was holding your hand. That would have been a really natural transition into discovering this question without any anxiety, but now you’ve had time to think about it and overthinking is the enemy of success. 

 And love, evidently. 

 “How they treat you, I suppose.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Well, sweetie, when someone is interested in you romantically, they may do things like hold your hand, call you pet names,” he says with the slightest bit of humor, “go to the movies, buy you gifts, play the Claw Machine until it’s dark outside and the arcade owner has to finally kick you both out. Maybe even play kitty cards in spite of losing almost every match because their opponent is a cheater.”

“I am not a-“

 Your brain does a hard reset as you begin to realize what he is trying to tell you. 

 Sylus is telling you ‘yes- I am romantically interested in you’ and the dumbest, biggest smile ever on your face. 

“Was that the answer you were looking for?”

 You nod, suddenly feeling shy, “yeah- that was exactly the answer I was looking for.” 

 The rest of the ride is quiet with one of his hands on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. You watch as the city quickly turns into a distant dream and Sylus’ safe house, not to your surprise, is very very large and it does very little to calm your nerves. 

 “I see owning multiple properties can be quite handy. A smart crow always has a few tricks up his sleeves.”

“The same can be said about having multiple slippers.”

 You turn to him and stick your tongue out playfully, “ha ha, very funny.

“This safehouse doesn’t happen to warm up, does it?” your teeth begin to chatter slightly and your bare legs are littered in goose bumps, “it’s colder than hell in here.”

 Sylus rolls his eyes at you, but begins to walk towards the fire place.

“It is snowing outside.”

 The warm hues of the fire illuminated the room and reveals several boxes scattered about, some opened and others not. The rest of the house looks similar to his main house, but maybe slightly more scaled down. It’s beautiful and it has a great view of Linkon and the mountains behind it. It’s almost easy to forget this is a safe house and not a vacation home.  

 “I’ll leave after dawn. You should stay here for a while.”

 You turn with a scoff, “I know your ‘territory’ is pretty safe, but as I said, a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

 “Really?”

  You choose to ignore him- knowing all too well that he will suss out your plan to join him on his dangerous little adventure. There isn’t a single thing in the whole world that could convince you to stay here otherwise, but Sylus has his own ways of ensuring things go the way he wants and you don’t feel like waking up handcuffed somewhere for your own safety.

“What’s with all the gifts? I didn’t think you celebrated Christmas.”

 Sylus chuckles, “I don’t, sweetie. I held an… ‘appraisal salon’ not that long ago.

“Would you like to take a look?”

 It honestly is kind of like being in a candy shop, but the candy shop is the black market and instead of delicious treats, they sell guns and while guns are cool (when used appropriately), they certainly aren’t helping you get Sylus any closer to the bedroom than you were five minutes ago. 

“Look at these bad boys!” You hold the unwrapped vintage gun, “this is a classic piece and very difficult to find.”

 Then a stroke of genius occurs.

“Let’s have a contest,” you flash a cheeky grin, “whoever can disassemble their gun first gets to ask the other any question they want.”

“You truly are relentless.”

 And of course Sylus agrees because he’s Sylus and he loves a good challenge. However, you are extremely determined to be the person asking the question and you know this specific gun quite well. You and Caleb learned how to shoot using these guns and you could disassemble it by telling it to.

 The gun is pointed at Sylus’ chin right as he is about to finish putting together his own weapon. You eat up the delicious grin on his face. It makes you feel empowered- he makes you feel empowered.

“First- say the thing.”

He rolls his eyes and gives you a soft smile, “I like your confidence and your determination very much. Now go ahead, ask your question.”

 Uh oh- you hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.

“I’m sleepy.”

 WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RIGHT NOW?

 Sylus looks a bit perplexed and you cannot blame him- you need to fix this NOW!

“Can you… tuck me in?”

“I thought a certain relentless hunter would ask about my destination.”

You shrug, “I care more about the present than an answer I won’t get. So will you do it or not?”

 Sylus is suddenly swinging you up into his arms and you yelp in surprise, but it doesn’t seem to get the usual laughing reaction you thought it would. Instead, there is a heat in his eyes that you have seen before but could never place what he was feeling until you began to feel it too. 

 “Of course, Kitten,” his nose brushes against yours, “this request is way more powerful than that little gun.”

 Every footstep closer to the bedroom is another step towards you having to be brave and you find yourself studying Sylus’ features as the dim light of the hall lamps barely kisses his features. He is so beautiful- you could probably study him forever and find more things you adore about him.

 He catches you looking and he returns your smile of adoration- flinging your shoes to the side and going to set you on the couch to quite literally tuck you in. 

 And ACTION!

 “I’m not ready to lie down just yet.”

 Sylus cocks an eyebrow, “if you don’t want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave.”

 “What if I don’t want you to leave?”

 Your question hangs in the air and it’s hidden meaning seems obvious to you, but then Sylus puts you down on the ground and you realize he may have missed the actual meaning of your words. Is it that unbelievable that you would want to have sex or are you doing a magnificently poor job of conveying that point?

 “We better make the most of our time until dawn then.”

 In the spur of the moment and desire coursing through your veins, you find the courage to push him down onto the couch behind him. With a gracefulness you have never been able to execute before, you straddle him and the way his breath hitches makes something inside you break.

  Sylus’ face is an adorable and sexy pink and his breathing becomes more unsteady in your clumsy hands.

 When your lips finally touch his, it feels as if you have been asleep your entire life until this very moment. 

 Your fingers find purchase in his hair and Sylus pulls you into him- his fingers surely leaving bruises along the back of your thigh. The kiss is filled with passion and desperation- his skin feels like it’s on fire under your touch and every moan against your lips sends shockwaves through you. 

 “You really don’t want me to leave.”

 To emphasize his point- you tease his lower lip between your teeth that makes him feel absolutely feral. 

“S-Sylus,” you pant between kisses, “over there.”

 You anticipated him to be a bit rougher, maybe throwing you down on the bed or something, but he lays you down gently like you are a precious, fragile gift. His hands are firm and confident as he cradles you, needing to have you as close as physically possible. 

 Your clumsy hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt and loosening his tie. Your hands glide across his chest and your nails gently graze your territory- one of your nails taking the time drag across his nipple. Sylus bites your lower lip in response, his hips grinding into you, and the growl that claws it’s way up his throat excites you. Your heart feels as if it’s beating out of your chest by the time he pulls away and (not so gently) takes of your shirt.

 The cool air is a stark contrast to the heat you feel on the inside- Sylus roams your bare chest and core with his eyes, his fingers hooking into your pants and pulling them down. You help by lifting your hips at an embarrassingly fast pace.

 “Looks like we are on the same page with not wanting to waste any time.” 

 He crushes his lips against yours again, leaving bruising kisses on every inch of skin he comes in contact with. Sylus returns the favor from earlier, his practiced mouth circling your nipple with care. His tongue flicks and laps at the sensitive skin and his teeth are quick to follow, leaving love marks and spit littering your skin before making his way to the the other. 

 You are mesmerized as you watch him- your core wound tight and dripping with need at the sight of him worshipping your body. Leaning back, you close your eyes and enjoy every single sensation. 

 You have soaked the bed underneath you by the time he makes his way between your legs- you are so caught up in his silent worship that you can barely focus on the task at hand.

 Strong, corded arms pull you to the edge of the bed and you jolt from your bliss filled daze- and God are you grateful you have. Sylus looks beautiful between your legs with his cocky smirk and pink cheeks- his warm breath lingers on the sensitive skin between your thighs. 

  With your legs slung over his shoulders- Sylus licks a stripe along your folds and ends at your clit, circling the sensitive nub and making lewd noises that you have only ever heard in porn. No one has truly, properly gone down on you and when they have, it always seemed like a chore.

“Sy-Sylus, you don’t have to if you don't wan-”

 You are cut off when he sucks on your clit, his tongue taking the time to tease the nerves and leave you a whimpering mess.

“I’m not doing anything I haven’t thought about doing for a very long time now,” he kisses along the inside of your thighs, “now stay focused, kitten.

“Don’t look.”

 One of your hands tangles in his hair and the other twists into the sheets. Sylus feasts and laps up your pleasure, his face covered in your essence and his nose breathes in your heady scent with happy, deep hums. His large hands roam your body, keeping your hips down and your legs clenched around him. They eventually return to your sore nipples and those practice, cold hands, become warm and attentive. He gropes and squeezes your breasts in time with his tongue as it darts in and out of your heat, his nose working to keep your bundle of nerves stimulated.

“Sy-” you clench your legs around his head tightly, a string of curse words leaving your mouth, “f-fuck- I’m, I’m-”

 Sylus’ fingers dip between your folds and his tongue returns to your clit. His other hand holds down your hips as his fingers drive you to your first orgasm of the night. Your moans are shrill and untamed- embarrassing almost- but the more you sing for him, the harder Sylus works to get more and more of those pretty noises out of your mouth. 

 When he finally comes up for air, your pleasure is dripping from around his mouth and down his chin. Crimson eyes make eye contact with you and he brings his soaked fingers to his lips- shamelessly savoring the taste of you on his skin. 

 You can barely contain yourself when he begins to crawl along you- your greedy hands using his hands to pull him to you faster. Sylus gazes at you adoringly and you are overwhelmed with your own affections for him. You went from hating him to loving him, desiring him, and at least for tonight, he is all yours. 

“What are you thinking about?”

 Mindlessly, your hand cups his cheek and your thumb traces the spot where a scar should be from your first encounter.

“Am I being too greedy… if I ask you to keep your eyes only on me?”

 Sylus almost looks relieved by your words, grabbing your arm and leaving a plethora of kisses as if to reward you for being open with him.

“You always had that right,” his warm breath and deep tone sends goosebumps of excitement up your spine, “which means… you can be even greedier. Do you want it, kitten?”

 Your breath catches when you realize what he is insinuating and you blink a few times before nodding. He smiles and leans down, but you stop him momentarily. Your mind feels like it is going a thousand miles a minute as you run through every negative outcome. What if you are really bad in bed? What if he decides he doesn’t want to be with you or bother with you anymore after you share such an intimate moment with each other?

“Sylus-”

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you…? You just said “yes?” his voice is desperate, “I’m hoping yes is still your answer because… I just can’t hold back anymore.”

 A wave of want and need flows through you, but before you can continue, you want to make sure this isn’t the beginning of the end.

“If we do this,” you whisper, “if we have this intimate moment together- you can’t just disappear on me. I want you, Sylus. Now and tomorrow and everyday after.”

 The Onychinus leader blinks a few times before the largest smile paints his face.

“Oh, y/n,” he sighs against your lips, “you have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say those words.”

 Sylus kisses you deeply, his lips caress yours and your hands explore each other- your nails make designs in his back as you try to keep yourself as close to him as you possibly can. Sylus’ clothed crotch is stained in the mess between your legs while he rocks his hips into you. His hand is tangled in your hair and the other is pressing you flush to his sweat soaked chest. The kiss only continues to deepen in passion and need- you barely get him to let you take a moment to breathe. 

“He-hey- no biting here,” you tease, pulling him back by his hair after he nips the skin on your neck a bit too roughly.

 His pupils are blown wide with lust and pent up frustration, “First you want it rough, then you want it soft. You’re a tough one to please tonight, y/n.” 

 You are lost in the depths of his eyes and the pooling of emotions behind them. You forget to breathe until he breaks eye contact to leave soothing kisses over the bite mark. 

“What do you really want?” he uncharacteristically pleads, “won’t you tell me like you just did?”

 While his voice may be innocent, you are far from believing this act. With a smirk, you use your strength to roll him on his back and your hands intertwine with his- keeping them pinned to the bed. The look of surprise on his face is refreshing, to say the least.

 You lean down and kiss him slowly, nipping at his lower lip and eating up the breathy chuckle he releases.

“I told you a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

“So you want control?” 

  You nod victoriously, certain you are going to be the one in control tonight. Sylus returns your confident smile with one of mischief before he somehow pins you down in the spot he was before. 

 Sylus chuckles deeply, “Unfortunately, I can’t give it to you. Not yet, at least.”

  Before you can inquire about what he means, you feel the pressure of two of his fingers sliding inside your wet cunt. An open mouthed, guttural moan leaves your lips and Sylus just watches- his other hand holding your chin so he can make eye contact. He wants to see your pleasure and know he is the only one you are thinking of- the only one you are seeing.

 Sylus wants you to know- no, understand- that you are his, not anyone else’s. 

 “Sy-sylus,” you plead, “pl-please I ne-”

“Don’t run.”

 Your back arches upwards and you try to pull away from his hand when you feel a warm wave gush and soak the sheets beneath you. Sylus doesn’t relent and quickly coaxes another orgasm from your shaking body. 

“Yo-you’re… so annoying…”

“I won’t deny it,” he crawls off of you with a grin, “I guess you can say I lied. Tonight, you’re not the only one feeling greedy…” 

 Sylus unzips his pants and pulls down his brief- his cock springs free and slaps against his lower ab muscles. Your mouth is watering in anticipation at his size- of course he’s perfect. He’s Sylus. 

 He climbs back on the bed and pulls you closer to him- the head of his cock presses against your folds and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“I misspoke.”

“What…?”

 Is he changing his mind?

“Greed can never be satisfied,” he places your hand on his chest, your hearts beating in sync, “but you can temporarily soothe it.

“Say it again, y/n, do you want it?”

 Time feels like it stops completely when his eyes meet yours. Your devotion and adoration for each other is magnetic- an unspoken magic between both of you. Your fingers lace themselves in his hair, pulling him to you and you take your time to kiss him slowly, reassuringly. 

“This is my answer.”

  Whatever lust and want that had been held back erupts within an instant. Sylus crushes your lips with his and he slowly glides himself inside of you- your legs tighten around his torso and your whine of pleasure interrupts the heated kiss.

“F-fuck, y/n.”

 Sylus’ pace is both gentle and punishing- you can feel him trying to be gentle, but the more he holds himself back, the more you want him to let go.

“Let go, Sy,” you whisper, “I’m yours.”

 His hips set a punishing pace- your collective sighs and moans are the melody to the filthy sound of sex soaked skin and your hips meeting. His tip grazes the opening of your cervix and his abs stimulate your aching clit. The spongy sensitive spot inside of you is relentlessly stimulated with each movement.

“Such a good girl,” he growls into your ear, “fuck you’re so tight.”

 Your only response to his praise is pathetic whimpers and cries. It doesn’t stop him- if anything, he only begins to praise you more. Sylus is wrapped up in the moment and wants nothing more than to stay in this moment with you forever. You are safe and in his arms- he is finally reunited with you in body, mind, and soul and this spurs him on more, his cock driving into you harder and harder and his hands digging into the flesh of your ass and hips to keep you in place.

 You cling to each other, lips and teeth clashing against each other sloppily as you both lose your composure to the others’ wanting. Your velvet walls clench around him desperately and your fingers try to find purchase on his back, in his hair, anywhere as your orgasm overtakes you. 

 With a few more rough thrusts, Sylus stutters inside of you and thick ropes of cum coats the inside of your walls and fills you to the brim. He lays on top of you with very little of his weight, his face in the crook of your neck. Sylus leaves soft kisses along your neck and sings words of praise that you can barely register. 

 At some point, he gets up and you hear the bathtub turn on and the soft padding of feet. Sylus’s strong arms cradle you- taking you to the now filled bathtub that is more than big enough for two. 

 You straddle his lap so that you can face him. Sylus kisses you slowly while he cleans you- pouring water on your hair, scrubbing your scalp, cleaning the sweat along your shoulders and on the back of your neck. You return the favor, taking your time to make sure he can feel all the love you have for him and how much you care for him. 

 He helps you lotion and brush your teeth- at no point do your feet ever actually touch the ground again. Sylus sets you on the couch in one of his shirts and begins to change the sheets.

“Do you want some help?” you offer, your legs sore, but not wanting to be too much of a pillow princess.

 Sylus rolls his eyes at you, “I’m capable of tackling this mission on my own, sweetie, but I will let you know if another pressing issue arises.”

 You scoff playfully and wait for him to finish making the bed. Sylus picks you up and places you on the bed, you snuggle up next to him as soon as he lies down and, much like when you were in the grasslands, you lay your head on his bicep and he pulls you closer to him. You have never felt quite so warm or safe in your entire life and your resolve only hardens further.

 You cannot allow Sylus to go by himself into the jaws of danger. You refuse to.

 You turn and kiss his bicep, settling deeper into his arms.

“Good night, my clever Crow,” you say with a yawn, “remember not to steal the blanket.”

 He snorts, “I will try my best, kitten. Now get some rest- I’ll keep you safe.”

 You nod- knowing in your heart that you will always be safe with Sylus around- and let sleep take you. You have a long flight and some ass whooping on the agenda tomorrow, after all.