#...feel like closure to me. but there really is no good parting when it comes to death huh

[comic-book-jawns]

Ricochet

“I’m sorry.”

Andrea truly doesn’t want to hurt Lena. She never has.

But this conversation is already nine months overdue. Well, nine months, plus three years. And if she’s doesn’t take advantage of this adrenaline high, she’s not sure when she’ll get the nerve back.

“For how I left.”

The way Lena tenses and crosses her arms tighter around herself tells Andrea she doesn’t have to elaborate.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault I threw myself at you. And I’m the one who ran first.”

Well, yes, and Andrea obviously does not regret not kissing a 14-year-old back a few days before she left for college.

“I couldn’t give you what you wanted. But I… I could’ve give you closure.”

Lena scoffs.

“I would never have let you.”

Andrea thought so too — it’s how she eventually convinced herself that ghosting her only real friend from boarding school had been for the best.

It’s only occurred to her over the past few months that that was never the point.

“You would’ve known that I’d tried.”

***

Lena had really thought (cringey as it was) that she might actually cry if they won ICCA’s. If she played a part in making Kara’s dream since her freshman year come true.

Only Lena hadn’t really caught on that doing so had become her dream somewhere along the way. And, well, with her track record of dreams coming true…

Unfortunately, turns out that disassociating over placing first in a fucking a cappella competition is far more mortifying than tearing up.

Especially in front of someone like Kara. Not that there is someone else like her.

So she’s supposes she should be rather grateful to her team captain for bringing her back to reality… by bringing up her most mortifying experience of all time.

Of course, crying over your childhood crush saying sorry for not like you back is also quite cringey. But Lena’s dignity has lost sight of the shoreline at this point.

“So, yeah, that - that’s what I wanted to say. In case, being a complete bitch to you since August hasn’t been a sufficient apology.”

On the one hand, Lena is surprised by the genuine laugh that bursts out of her amidst the tears. On the other hand, Andrea is the only person who’s ever rivaled Lena’s dry sense of humor.

“I know it’s not an excuse, but… it was easier than worrying about disappointing you again.”

Already nodding along, ready to wrap this up, Lena freezes when she actually process what Andrea said.

“What?”

At the time, she’d been so blinded by hurt and shame for letting herself dream she ever stood a chance that she’d never even tried to put herself in her ex-best friend’s shoes.

It didn’t occur to her until she was actually getting ready for college herself that she had no idea what she’d do if a 14-year-old girl kissed her out of the blue and said she was in love with her.

Not that that was a remote possibility, Lena having sworn off friendship after convincing herself that Andrea had never given a shit about her.

Trying to convice herself, that is. Because she knew deep down that it was a lie. And that was the most excruciating part.

Still, knowing teenage Andrea had cared about her in some form… Well, Lena hadn’t just run into her at the Activies Fair three years later — very alarmed because it was not school Andrea had left for that summer — and assumed…

“I could never get your face out of my head.”

Humiliating, Lena feels herself blush, full well knowing Andrea didn’t mean it like that, and scratches at her wet cheeks as cover.

“No matter what Lex and your mother did, you - you wouldn’t cry. And I was always relieved.”

Oh? Lena’s not really sure what to say to that. But what really catches her off-guard is the sudden rasp in Andrea’s voice. And when she finally looks at the older girl for the first time since she joined her out here in the parking lot, she finds her swallowing harshly.

“Because I knew how to distract you. I was good at it.”

Andrea meets her gaze with an even more jarring attempt at a smile.

“But in the end, it was me.”

Andrea turns fully away then, her back to Lena, so all she can see is the hand running stiltedly through dark hair still pulled into a bun.

“I made you cry.”

Lena doesn’t need to see her face, though.

***

Precariously carrying five cups of steaming hot tea in her bare hands — every kind available; you’d think a singing competition would have a more robust selection?! — Kara considers it quite an accomplishment that she doesn’t immediately give herself third-degree burns when she finally finds the freshman in the parking lot.

Successfully placing them all down on the pavement doesn’t prove to be much easier, but Kara isn’t willing to tempt fate when she’s so preoccupied with the scene in front of her.

Kara does consider her fellow senior a friend, but more in the way she considers a lot of acquaintances her friends. And, frankly, her treatment of Lena has driven a wedge between them that Kara’s doesn’t know if she’s all that interested in dislodging.

Sure, Kara had eventually convinced her that Lena is the team’s future, literally.

The reason they’d used the same repertoire for years was because no one knew how to arrange new material. Nothing better than what they already had at least.

Andrea had never admitted their severely lacking musicianship, of course. So Kara had done it for her… after not defending Lena when she’d previously had the chance.

The point is Kara’s friendship with Lena “it’s just math” Luthor is her priority. She can live with never speaking to Andrea again after graduation. The thought of anything changing between her and Lena after graduation has been making her nauseous for weeks.

“So… Kara?”

Kara doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, she swears. Honestly, she’d kind of expected them to pick up on her presence whether she dropped the cups or not. But it seems the pair is still in their own little bubble, Andrea demurely wiping her face while pulling back from the embrace. Lena keeps her close, though, loosely holding her elbows.

“Kara?”

“I know, Lena.”

“Know what?”

Kara definitely should’ve turned around by now. She’s hardly in a position to get self-righteous about secrets when she has yet to tell her best friend that she won’t be leaving campus, after all.

Staying on for a Master’s in Journalism hadn’t been her plan even back in the fall. But a lot has happened between now and then, so.

Andrea sighs with none of her characteristic exasperation.

“I knew you had feelings for me before you kissed me.”

Kara is positive the only reason she doesn’t audibly gasp is because she’s too shocked. Well, that and Lena scoffs loudly as she takes a step back.

She’d figured that Lena and Andrea had a history, per se. But her mind had never gone… there.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t act like it.”

“How was I supposed to act?”

In four years, Kara has never heard Andrea speak so gently, without even a hint of condescension to boot.

Lena’s more choked scoff seems to suggest she’s not used to it either… and that Kara is probably missing something.

“You don’t have to believe me. And if you want to tell me I’m wrong about Kara, go ahead.”

Yeah, she’s definitely missing something.

“But… if you want to tell me I’m right, I certainly wouldn’t discourage that either.”

Lena’s chuckles in that beautifully thick way she does when Kara gushes over one of her mash-ups profusely enough.

“Fuck you.”

“Still too young for this ride, sweetie. Sorry.”

Kara can’t help her eye roll at Andrea gesturing at her own body like it’s a letter on Wheel of Fortune. But then Andrea frowns, which makes slightly more sense when Kara hears Lena’s abruptly dejected tone.

“It’s the same.”

“What is?”

“You - you and me. Me and Kara. It’s the same age gap.”

“Yes, but I’ve known you since you were a baby.”

“Seven.”

Even as her mind races — scrambling for the missing context — Kara can still hear Lena’s scowl clear as day. Andrea waves dismissively.

“Same difference.”

But then she takes a step forward, her arms hovering pretty awkwardly for someone who was just clinging to Lena a minute ago before she settles them on Lena’s shoulders.

“You jump. I jump. Okay?”

Kara recognizes the quote instantly, but it doesn’t clear anything up for her. Other than it means something to Lena, judging by the way she loops her arm through Andrea’s and leisurely leads them further out into the parking lot.

So they’re thankfully well out of earshot by the time Kara accidentally kicks over all the cups.

#supercorp #supergirl #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl fic #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fic #supercorp ficlet #rojascorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #andrea rojas #pitch perfect au

[dramarants]

going through the 20th century girl tag to move on and appreciate all the great moments only to find out ppl would rather yijin died than not end up with heedo

#20th century girl #twenty five twenty one #20th century girl spoilers #spoilers #maybe I'm in a weird mood but I can't scroll any more asldkfj #I get why ppl say the movie did it better: pacing + showing aftermath + believable #even though the sadder ending was a surprise they set us up for it and have proper closure to the characters #and while I still have some gripes (what happened to the brother how did woonho diedoes the squad not stay in touch where are they all now) #overall it was solid #but idk if 25 21 pulled a 'he died' I'd be so pissed - it's lazy and thoughtless and not marrying your first love is realistic #their final scenes together were soooo good it's just the reason for parting was unbelievable & present day scenes left us with more qs #but to be like 'yijin and heedo were soulmates and their breakup is unthinkable so... #'instead of growing and moving ahead after all his struggles to establish himself and support his family he should just DIE' #like this 20th c girl ending is so much more heartbreaking imo sldkfjasdlldgfkj #watching him smile at sunrise all hopeful for a future with you he'll never have 22 years later is SO MUCH WORSE #idk I'm glad bora is shown smiling and cherishing what they had rather than mourning (tho she has every right too) but it still doesn't... #...feel like closure to me. but there really is no good parting when it comes to death huh #show me people can treasure their youth and still find happiness and fulfillment in unexpected ways down the line!! #there's a beautiful piece of 90s nostalgia media still waiting in the wings for us I just know it #just don't know how much I can take my heart being ripped to shreds in the meantime 😅 #ranting

[villa-kulla]

Since there’s no more BCS this week or ever, you’ll have to suffer through some brief sappy THOUGHTS instead. But last week after the finale I went to go visit my parents and they asked me how the BCS finale was, and I was all like “when I last saw you I was still a girl, but now I return to you a woman.”

And I was just trying to be melodramatic and funny, but then thought about it more, and that is kind of what it feels like to me??? Breaking Bad just consumed my early twenties, I fell in love with it immediately, and it was also what made me finally try writing fan fiction, and then try writing my own things, because all I wanted to do was write something as good as that. I was about to say it was such a creative ‘spark’, but let’s be real, it was a furnace. And then Better Call Saul has carried me THROUGH my twenties, and unlike Breaking Bad (which I binged), I got to grow with it and watch it in real time every year, see it get deeper and more nuanced with every season as it peeled back layers, falling more and more in love with it each new season. And then finally last week we got to watch it all come together and coalesce into one of the most stunning, thoughtful, poignant, mature, bittersweet, breathtaking, and beautiful shows of all time, and it really does feel like a full-circle end of an era.

BrBa and BCS have meant so much to me in different ways, and I’ve never grown with art in quite the same way as those two stories. They’re the ultimates for me. I know it’s unbelievably sappy, but I can’t not say thank you to both shows and everyone involved in making them for being so generous in sharing how they do it. It’s really been such a special ride <3

#like i turned 30 this year but that was not the end of my 20s....the BCS finale was </3 #i was just there watching the credits all teary lol and flashing back to when i watched the brba finale in that very room #which was incredibly emotional because i knew i'd just seen something really special #and it really felt very full circle closure in that moment where i know they're a part of me and it's okay i can step off the ride now #(after the appropriate period of re-binging and analysis and posting theories and freaking out of course!) #(and i really am so glad i managed to get a BCS fic in under the wire lol it wouldn't have felt RIGHT that was just so fun/nostalgic to do) #hey i SAID i'd be sappy lol #but yeah just such formative shows for me #and actuallly brba for your early 20s and bcs for verge-of-30s feels like a very apt metaphor somehow lol #binging brba was like pounding back shots of tequila and red bull and squeezing lime juice into your eyes #going into the bathroom sweaty and shaking to throw up and them coming right back out to continue #whereas BCS is like enjoying a really good bottle of wine over a long period of time and savouring every glass #until you get to the bottom of the bottle and realize it was laced with fucking speed asdfghj #but yeah it really does feel like the end of an era and it's been amazing <3 #feeling very 'now what' but in a good way <3 #like it's good! we had it!! and it was the greatest!! #shares

[battlekidx2]

I'm making this post purely to shout out some incredibly talented fanfic writers from the Hazbin Hotel fandom and my favorite works of theirs.

Did anyone ask me for this? No. Will I post it anyway? Absolutely. The writers in this fandom are too good.

The first fanfic writer I want to shout out is @prince-liest (ao3 link)

I absolutely love their get cared for idiot (Alastor) series (not the official name but they called it that in one of their asks jokingly so it's now the default in my head).

Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare! (this fic gets it!!!! This is what I meant when I said Alastor is growing a heart and part of him is raging against it. He still has ulterior motives and a massive amount of pride and part of him feels like that growing fondness is getting in the way, but he can't stop it. I need to stop before this becomes a long ramble. I've written a couple thousand words on this idea, but this fic is just a better use of your time than any meta I could ever write and way more entertaining :D )

Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy

The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding (Please look at the tags for content warning. Angel and Alastor body swap story.)

They're amazing at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor where there's a heart in there (really deep) and he's unintentionally growing attached to the hazbin crew, but he doesn't lose his edge. He's still manipulative and an asshole and can easily be the scariest guy in any room. He's in hell for a reason. A+ characterization at all times.

They're so good at writing the complicated dynamics he has with the residents, especially Charlie, and I enjoy how they expand on Alastor's potential dynamic with Angel Dust.

Anything they write from Lucifer's POV is gold too! My favorites are:

Take Two and Leave a Voicemail!

The Care and Keeping of Homo Angelus

I am also 100% here for their Aro!Alastor agenda and I'm enjoying their fic I Love Her, I Love Her Not so far!

The second person I want to shout out is @grayintogreen (ao3 link)

Their series Red Roses and Dead Things consistently gut punches me.

Just like Princeliest, they are also fantastic at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor. A+ characterization for everyone and I love how they write HuskerDust. It's so soft, especially in the aftermath fic for Learn that Even Death May Die called If My Love Is Tomorrow, I've Forgotten Yesterday (that fic hurt in the best way).

The way they explore the aftermath of Learn that Even Death May Die is incredibly impactful. They capture the unique grief that comes from the reality that there are some things you won't get closure for so well that it's painful.

I can't say enough good things about their series. Genuinely go read it.

I found @lediz-watches (ao3 link) before the first season of Hazbin Hotel dropped (I've been a fan of the hellaverse for a few years now and have been enthralled with the Hazbin Hotel pilot since I first watched it in 2020) and I really enjoy their fics.

My favorite is Suffering Kindness. I love the Charlie and Alastor dynamic they explore in this story. I think I'm just a sucker for the Charlie and Alastor dynamic in general, but this fic hits all the right notes for me. (written pre-season 1 but man is it good. 100% recommend)

LeDiz also has a lot of one-shots/collections of one-shots that are very fun.

The Cure for Inexorable Boredom

Dollface (one-shots about Alastor theories. My favorite is the 3rd one. So fascinating!)

Choice Words (one of the few explorations of Alastor and Vaggie's dynamic that I've found in the fandom)

Don't Say It

I have to shout out @ckret2 (ao3 link) and their phenomenal fic You’ve Got a Face for Radio. This is such an amazing aroace!Alastor fic. (Embarrassingly it was this fic that made me realize I was most likely aroace myself. I’d had fleeting moments of suspecting it but it wasn’t until I saw my experiences laid out in a character explicitly written to be aroace that I put the puzzle pieces together. -_- some of these passages were too relatable.) I cannot express how much I love this fic.

I also like their fics Dumpster Baby and Bitter Grapes.

I have one last writer I want to mention because this is getting really long (whoops). The last one is tiredoflofteranditsshit and their Assume He Has a Heart series (because my favorite character and how I interpret them was not obvious enough already with the fics/authors I've recommended. I had to make it more obvious).

These fics are massive (17k and 26k words) and so much fun. Definitely worth the read. Yet another series that follows up season 1 and explores Alastor’s growing connections and how he lies to himself and pushes against it. Love this series and there’s a lot to sink your teeth into :D

#hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel fics #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #angel dust #husk #huskerdust #charlie morningstar #I love all of these fics #these writers are all so talented

[vexxandra]

what is coming? (timeless pick-a-card)

for those who need comfort, or dream of the future, this might be the pac for you ☆ 3-17-23 .

PILE ONE ; " i'm so tired " ...

how long have you been keeping yourself awake? it's up to you to decide whether that statement was metaphorical or literal, but the point still stands. can't catch sleep? it's not your fault. you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you deserve to rest. sleep is a blessing that you will catch up on soon. the mistakes of your past shouldn't stop you from rejuvenating yourself. i'm sorry this relief from life has been taken from you.

i can see that what's coming toward you is more closure. conflicts being resolved, and action being taken to prevent future problems from happening. peace is coming, and more spiritual peace- however you may find it. you are finding what is lost or missing; a confidant, a part of yourself you lost, or a sense of responsibility. this will make you feel a little less confused in this dark time. whatever you find, make sure it benefits you, not hinders you.

extra: the number 7 or 16, cheerleading, studying, driving/cars, violent - carolesdaughter, the need to please, disappointment, "you are more than your thoughts, more than your past" green, spring months, gaming to cope, betrayal, "you deserve love because you exist"

PILE TWO ; " i am fighting " ...

you are so strong. your strength is commendable, and so is your resolve. you are making me smile. things seem to be good for you right now, but have they always? no one is born to be so resilient, it's our experiences that shape us to be who we are, and yours have molded you into a warrior, pile two. you are so strong, have you heard that before? i feel like you don't get recognized enough. but you suffered, and i see that. i see that, and i see you. thank you, for never giving up.

stability is reaching you. i feel like you have a 'fake it till you make it mindset' in order to reach what you truly want. but i see that you will soon have whatever you desire. it will be unmistakably yours, and you'll know in your heart when you find it. you will be emotionally fulfilled, and reach a state of kind of 'enlightenment' where you're like, i know what im doing now, it all makes sense. it will be a moment where everything clicks, and everything settles down.

extra: pink, red, gold, orange, chains of pearls, instruments, stuffy, nostalgia, memories like the color yellow, may, june, 2018, "this feels right", back to the future/past, vintage, aesthetic, dream girl vibes, photos, "everything is okay"

PILE THREE ; " where is the sun ? " ...

you have lost your sun, pile three. you remind me of a sunflower, looking for the sun to turn to, but what happens if the sun isn't there? you are aimless and lost, trying to find what has been stolen from you. but it hasn't, has it? it's time to take off your lenses, and realize that this isn't healthy. you have been stuck in a cycle for a while, and i feel like you kind of actually trap yourself in it. i get it, it's better to be trapped than face the reality. but is the pain you're causing yourself really worth it? please find strength in yourself to break free. trust me, it's better than staying. im rooting for you, pile three.

what's coming toward you is the strength to pull yourself out of this negative situation. i see you putting yourself first, and sparing yourself of further heartbreak, disappointment, and sadness. i can see that this will sort of be a tower moment for you; the tower has always been shaky, but it's only now that you are fleeing from it, and i'm proud of you. it's hard, but you can do it. after, you might find yourself stuck in your own thoughts secondguessing, but you did the right thing. never forget that. i also see someone of importance entering your life, a little after this.

extra: dont worrry darling, omori, pink beats, neurodivergence, black, alternative culture, crosses, pinky promises, mother figure, chocolate, willy wonka and the chocolate factory, balloons, lamps, llamas, "why would you leave me?", "because i couldn't stay", polish

#pick a pile #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile readings #pick a card readings #pac #pac tarot #pac reading #intuition #intuitive readings #intuitive messages #intuitive #tarot free reading #tarot reading #tarot readings

[staytheword]

clear skies

clear skies — one shot sequel of falling rain [ masterlist ] 

— bang chan x female reader. also features han jisung, lee know, yeji (itzy), and san (ateez).

— non idol au. friends to lovers. mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff, angst, drinking, explicit language, explicit smut, a lot of discussion around break-ups, closure, healing, etc. smut warnings (spoilers) — oral sex (m receiving), protected sex, some dirty talk, no major warnings.

— word count: 6.8k

— !! please consider reading falling rain before reading this, as it is a direct sequel and I fear it will make much less sense without the first part :') ♡

You and Chan are friends. Maybe a little more than that, after your night together. You find yourself healing, really healing, until your ex makes you question everything.

You knock on the door of apartment 6, nervously biting your lip. A few seconds later, it opens on Jisung. He looks like he just got out of bed although it’s early afternoon, which wouldn’t be surprising considering what you know of his sleeping schedule. 

“Y/N,” he smiles. “We don’t often see you around here. What’s up?” 

You show him the bag you’re holding. 

“Chan told me he was sick. I brought him some stuff.” 

Jisung gives you a long look but he opens the door so you can come in. You enter the apartment, taking a curious look around. You’ve only been here for parties, and nothing looks the same in the dark. In the direct sunlight of the afternoon, and without all the people, it feels like a whole different place. 

“Yeah, he told me he caught a cold,” Jisung says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “No idea how.” 

“It’s been raining pretty bad these days,” you shrug. 

Jisung nods, still looking at you suspiciously. You do your best not to act differently than you do, hoping your friend isn’t as good at reading you as Chan is. Because you have no idea if Jisung knows about what happened. You haven’t told anyone yet, although you’re planning to spill everything to Yeji soon. You’re not sure how Chan feels about the other night - you’re not sure how you feel about the other night. 

But when he told you he was sick - because of you and the scene you made under the rain - you couldn’t just stay home. You had to make it up to him. So you got him soup from his favorite place, as well as a few snacks. 

“He’s in his room,” Jisung says eventually. 

“Thanks, Ji.”

“Sure. I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He gestures towards the couch, and you give him a smile. As you walk away, you see him hit the controller, and the show on the television starts playing again - although from what you can feel on your back, he’s staring at you. 

You knock on Chan’s door and a tired voice tells you to come in. 

He’s laying on his bed, half sitting up, playing on his Switch. His hair is a mess, and so is his room, but you don’t mind. All you see are his red nose, his chapped lips, the hazy look in his eyes. 

“Oh, Chan,” you sigh, and he chuckles. 

“I look that bad, yeah?”

His nasal voice clearly shows he’s sick, and you pout, closing the door behind you. 

“You didn’t have to come all the way here,” he says.

“I wanted to. I brought you a few things.” 

You sit on the bed next to him, opening the bag and taking out what you know are his favorite snacks, placing them on the desk close by. 

“And also this,” you tell him, removing the bowl of soup. 

As he recognizes the restaurant name on the lid, his eyes light up. One of his favorites. 

“Ohh. Ohhh.” 

“Thought that might make you feel better. Eat, while it’s still warm.” 

He giggles excitedly, his Switch abandoned next to him, and he sits upright, carefully taking the bowl in his hands. You just watch him as he takes his first spoonful, closing his eyes to savor the taste. 

“I think I’m cured,” he says with a laugh.

You smile affectionately, relieved to see he’s not too sick to eat. As your eyes linger on his face, you realize you can’t really stay. You have no reason to, after all. You look down at your hands. 

“Ji was highly suspicious of my visit,” you tell Chan. 

He frowns. “What did he say?” 

“Nothing,” you sigh. “But it was obvious.” 

“Well…” Chan swallows. “I didn’t tell him, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

You nod, but you’re not sure what to answer. You don’t know if you’re happy about that or not. 

“I’ve been too sick, didn’t feel right,” he explains, keeping his eyes on you. Despite their glassiness, you read them well. “Should I have?” 

“No,” you answer. “I mean - not if you didn’t want to. Of course not.” 

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No,” you say, looking up at him. “I want to tell Yeji, though. Is that okay?” 

He smiles. 

“Of course. I don’t want you to feel like it has to be a secret.” 

You sigh in relief. “I agree. It’s just… Some might not understand.” 

“We don’t have to tell everyone,” Chan shrugs. “We’re still friends, right? That doesn’t change.” 

You blink. 

Just you and me.

Just you and me tonight. 

“We are,” you smile, and you believe it. 

That night, Chan made you feel seen like you never had before. A part of you wonders if it means you have fallen in love. But as you sit next to him, looking at him eating his soup so excitedly, you realize it’s not. What you shared is special - and you told each other things that did matter, and that did change your relationship. But you are still yourselves. You don’t want to bury yourself in doubt. Not now. There are still things you need to figure out about yourself and what you want. 

You need to find yourself first so you can honor him. 

So you can love him like he should be loved. 

Maybe Chan can fall in love with you.

Maybe you can fall in love with him. 

For now, you are friends. 

A little more than that. 

But it’s still enough.

“So, yeah. We had sex.” 

Yeji gasps, putting a hand over her mouth. Despite the gesture, she does not seem that surprised, and you arch an eyebrow at her. 

“I mean -” she stammers. “It’s not that I’m not surprised, I’m just - well -” 

You let out a chuckle. “C’mon, spit it out.” 

She sighs. “I guess I just expected it to happen some day.” 

You take your mug in your hand, lifting it to your lips. The cafe is quiet tonight - it’s a weeknight, so the only people there are students catching up on studying and people talking casually. You adore this place - it’s close to your apartment, the coffee is good, and it’s never too busy. Yeji and you regularly meet up there for a pastry or a latte, as you are tonight. 

“So you knew, huh?” 

“Knew what?” 

“That he had a crush on me.” 

She shakes her head as you take a sip from your latte. Her hair is tied into a long braid today, and although she looks tired from work, she still manages to look breathtaking. That’s just Yeji. 

“No. I didn’t - not for sure,” she smiles. “I just had a feeling. Neither of you are really good at hiding how you feel.” 

You sigh, putting down the mug. “I guess you’re right about that.” 

She gives you a sweet smile. 

“So how was it?” 

“The sex?” When she nods, your smile can’t help but widen. “It was good. Really good.” 

“Really good, huh?” she giggles.

“Really good.” 

You keep laughing, and you indulge her when she asks for details. You have nothing to hide, anyway - you know you need to open yourself up to people, and with Yeji it’s always been easy and mutual. That’s something you learned, sometimes at a bitter cost. It’s all right to give to people, as long as they do the same. Throwing pieces of you into the void - that’s how you lose yourself. 

“I’m so glad, Y/N,” she says, putting her hand on yours. “You look good.” 

“I feel a little better. And it’s not even just Chan, you know. I think… In a way, I think I’m relieved, actually. About San.” 

Yeji gives you the time to measure the words on your tongue. You think about your ex, the one who loved you, the one who hurt you, and all the things in between.

“He has someone. He’s moved on. I can too. To see him heal - it helps me.” 

You’re not even lying. 

It’s not that everything is perfect again - of course it isn’t. But you’re putting the pieces of yourself back together, slowly. Learning to love again - yourself and others. 

It’s been about a week since Chan spent the night at your place. Since then, you’ve seen each other a few times, sometimes just the two of you, sometimes with others. When he recovered from his cold you went for brunch. To see a movie. You spent a night at the boys’ apartment to play board games. 

You haven’t slept together again. A part of you wants to, but you’re not interested in forcing it. The only time you almost did was back at his place, but Jisung and Minho had both been there, yelling nonsense in the living room. Not the most romantic background music. So you just held each other tight, exchanged a few kisses. Chan played with your hair. You put your hand on his chest to feel him breathe. 

You and Yeji talk some more, and then you decide to head back home, as you’re both working early the next day. After a hug, you give her a smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night? At the party?” 

She gives you a surprised look. “You’re coming?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Honey…” She frowns. “You know San and his girlfriend will be there, right?” 

You nod. 

“I know. That’s all right.” 

She smiles, puts a hand against your cheek. “Healing looks good on you.” 

It’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever told you.

Healing is a complicated thing. 

Healing takes time, and healing is never a straight line. 

One moment you’ll feel you can take anything, and the next the ground shifts from under you and you collapse. 

You thought you’d be strong enough. 

You’re not. 

“I miss you,” San says, not even able to look at you. “I know it’s a shitty thing to say, I know I’ve been a dick, but… it’s the truth.” 

You did not expect this. 

You did not expect this at all.

You thought San was over you. But now, here he is, looking tired and anxious, telling you he’s broken up with his girlfriend because something didn’t feel right. Because he missed something. You. 

“I…” you stammer. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he breathes out. He’s tipsy, you know him well enough for that. His body sways a little as he shrugs. “I just wanted you to know.” 

“O-okay.” 

And just like that, like he hasn’t just dropped a rock in your throat, like he hasn’t just set off a bomb in your chest, he walks away. You stare at the back of his head, your fingers squeezing the bottle of beer in your hand. You’re glad it’s made of thicker glass, that it won’t crush under the pressure. Still, it feels brittle. 

You arrived at the party more than an hour ago, and you’ve been having a good time. You played a drinking game of cards, danced with Jeongin and Lily, flirted with Chan. The two of you are not together - but you’re not not together either. The night was going so well you barely noticed that San was not accompanied like he was supposed to be. He avoided you up until minutes ago, asking you if he could talk. Now you stand in the backyard, looking up at the night sky and wondering how your legs will be able to carry you home. 

You wish it would start raining. That would make more sense than the tears on your cheeks. 

You frown, shaking your head. You’ve been doing so well. Your heart was repairing itself, helped by Chan’s smile, by the strength you found in yourself through his eyes. After so much time in a relationship, you are actually enjoying some time on your own, even if a part of you belongs to Chan. He’s respecting the distance you need, never too close but never far. You like Chan. A lot. 

San misses you. 

You miss him too. 

Do you want him back? 

It would be so simple to fall back into it. Like letting your body float in safe waters, the current sweeping you away. Easing back into the comfort you had built together. But you can’t. You don’t love San anymore. He doesn’t love you anymore either. He’s just confused. He’s processing things in a different order from you. 

Right? 

Still, it would be so easy. 

“Y/N?” 

You turn around at the sound of Chan’s voice. It feels like a familiar song in the middle of a cacophony. He brings you back to that night, your limbs entangled on the couch, his chest moving up and down as he slept next to you. Being with Chan feels easy too, but it is more than that - it feels right. 

It also feels terrifying.

“Are you crying?” he frowns. 

You shake your head. “A little. It’s okay. It’s nothing bad.” 

“I just saw San walk away,” Chan says tensely. 

You can feel him getting angry, so you put a hand on his arm, trying to gather the right words. 

Chan sighs. “What did he say to you?” 

“Chan, please,” you breathe out. “Calm down.” 

“I just don’t want him to hurt you again -” 

“He misses me,” you interrupt him, meeting his gaze. Chan stops and looks at you. You can’t quite read his expression. “That’s what he told me. That he missed me. He broke up with the girl because of it.” 

Chan pushes his fingers against his temple. “That fucking asshole…” 

“Chan -” 

“No, Y/N.” It’s his time to interrupt you and you freeze on the spot. “I know what you will say, but that still doesn’t make it okay. He shouldn’t put this burden on you. Whatever his process is, it’s not fair to pull you in and out of it like he is.” 

Your mouth is dry. “I…” You don't even know what you want to say. 

“Please,” Chan says, taking your hand in his. The warmth it spreads on your fingers makes you realize how cold you are. “Don’t let him in.” 

His eyes are dark oceans you want to fall into. He looks so handsome, with his hair dancing in the breeze, his sharp jaw that you want to kiss. Those lips that were everywhere on you that night. Those fingers that held you tight. 

The pang of longing that passes through you makes you dizzy and you take a step back, removing your hand from his. You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. This is a lot. This is too much. Your lungs burn and your heart is being torn apart.

What you want. What you need. What you can’t help but miss. 

“Y/N?” Chan asks so delicately it feels like a caress. 

You shake your head, holding a palm up, not even able to look at him. “I- I’m sorry. This is just a lot. I… I need to think, I…”  

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says. “I’ll give you space. Do you want me to get Yeji, or anyone else?” 

You nod. “Yeji’s good.” 

“Ok. Ok. Stay there.” 

You let Chan walk away, and once you can’t hear his footsteps, you let your knees buckle. You collapse on the grass, bringing your legs against your body, the bottle of beer hanging pathetically from your fingers. 

You don’t know anything anymore. 

You’re mad. Sad. Confused. Torn. 

You look up at the sky, empty of clouds. There’s just nothingness there.

Why can’t it rain for once?

It’s been a few days since the party. Or you think it has. Time has been tricky, lately, twisting and turning in ways you didn’t expect it too. Days feel like seconds. Hours feel like weeks. 

Your head is laying on Yeji’s lap. She’s braiding it, the both of you watching your favorite show. You’ve seen these episodes a dozen times but you don’t care. It’s just so there’s noise instead of the deafening silence. Something to look at instead of the abysmal nothingness. Yeji made you sure you ate something. 

You’re going backwards.

A descent.

A regression.

Yeji calls it a bump in the road, but it doesn’t feel like a bump. It feels like a black hole sucking you in, tearing you apart at the seams. 

Chan is on your mind. His kindness, his eyes that understand you better than anyone does. San is on your mind. His comforting arms, his familiarity. You don’t know what to do. You feel stuck. You want to listen to your heart, but it has remained silent, like it wants you to make the decision. 

For now you have shut yourself off. You don’t answer anyone, except for Yeji. But then again, she forced the lock, sat you down and said, cry. Scream. Punch someone. I don’t care, but do something. You did all of those things. You cried, you screamed, and, well - you punched your pillow. 

Everything felt right. Now everything feels blurry. 

It was so hard to get yourself back on track, and now that you’ve derailed, you feel worse than before. It’s so stupid, too. They’re just boys. 

That’s what Yeji told you - and she’s terribly right. You can’t allow yourself to feel like this for boys. And yet you can’t shake the lethargy. So you decide to give yourself the time. Figure things out.

You owe it to the both of them.

Chan. San. 

Whatever the truth is, they deserve it. 

Yeji’s phone vibrates on the table in front of you and you sit up to let her answer it. Your eyes unconsciously fall on the screen, and you see Chan’s name. Your chest tightens and you look away. Yeji squeezes your hand.

“What’s up, Chan?” she answers. 

You can discern his voice, not what he says, and you try not to stare. Instead you grab the mug of tea you’ve barely touched and take a sip. It’s lukewarm. 

“I’m good,” Yeji says. “Just watching tv.” She pauses. “Y/N?” 

Your heart drops at the bottom of your stomach and you look up at your friend. You shake your head. 

“Yeah, she’s here,” Yeji continues. “But she’s asleep.” You smile faintly at her as a thank you. “Yeah, I’ll tell her you called. Okay. See you soon.” 

She hangs up, putting down the phone, and you wince. “Sorry you had to lie because of me.” 

“That’s okay, honey. I just…” She hesitates, but you nod, encouraging her to speak her mind. You need her to. “You know you can talk to Chan, right? He’s your friend, first and foremost. Whatever happened between you, whatever the feelings… He’ll listen. He cares.”

“I know,” you say faintly, playing with the blanket on your knees. “I just don’t even know what I would say. And if I see him… I’ll just get more confused.” 

Because Chan is a dream guy - handsome and kind, with the cutest smile. Because Chan will remind you of what happened that night, of the way he held you, of the way he made you shiver. 

Yeji smiles softly. “I understand. I just wanted to remind you.” 

“Thank you. I’ll try to text him later. I have to answer San, too, he messaged me like two days ago…” 

A sudden surge of anxiety overtakes you, and you breathe out. Yeji puts a hand on your leg. “Breathe, Y/N. One thing at a time.” 

“A part of me just wants to say, fuck it, I’m just going to be single, you know?” you chuckle, feeling the tears at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t need anyone. I’ll give myself time to heal. But when I tell myself that, then… I feel so empty. Like I’m making a terrible mistake.” 

You shrug. 

“The worst part is, I already know what I want,” you whisper. Chan. Chan. Chan. “But the past won’t let me go.” 

“The past doesn’t control you,” Yeji breathes, giving you a smile. “You control what hold it has on you. You have to let it go.” 

You wipe the tears from your eyes. “But what if letting San go is a mistake?”

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Yeji tells you. “Missing someone doesn’t mean you still love them, or that you’re right for each other. It just means you care. It just means what you had was real - and moving on from it doesn’t take that away.” 

You breathe in slowly, giving your friend a tight hug. 

The skies will clear. 

And even if they don’t, the rain really isn’t that bad. 

Rain is cold, rain is heavy. But rain is a thing of beauty.

You hear the door close behind you and you pause. The relief is spreading through your body. The knots, untangled. The wounds, soothed. This will scar - but it will heal. It already is. 

A part of you can’t help it - you turn around to glance at the closed door. Apartment 2B. You spent so much time there, loving San, being loved by him. It felt right to return there to have the conversation you needed to have. Both of you, sober, calm, ready. I miss you too, you told him. But we don’t love each other anymore, and we have to let each other go. 

I know, San nodded. Or I’ll learn to know. He smiled then. You were always the strongest of us. 

You’re not sure it’s true, but you’ll accept it. Strength is something you have, strength is something you grow. It’s not constant. It’s not even logical. Even strength can break. Even strength can be weak. 

You leave the apartment building. Poetically, the rain from earlier has ceased. It still hangs in the air, hazy, leaving the streets wet. As you walk, you watch droplets fall from the tree leaves, distorted visions of the city and sky in puddles. Your umbrella is useless in your hand, still dripping from earlier. You spin it a little in your hands, making the water trapped in it dance. 

You know exactly what you will do next. 

Your next destination is not exactly close but you enjoy the long walk. The sky has gotten dark, your cheeks are a little red, and your heart is spinning. But you know this is what you have to do. You know it’s what you want to do. 

Once again, it’s Jisung that answers the door. When he sees you, he smiles playfully. 

“You’re around here a lot these days, Y/N. I wonder why.” 

You shake your head with an amused smile, refusing to encourage him. “And you’re too curious for your own good, Han Jisung. Is -” 

“Chan here?” he finishes, his grin widening. “Come in.” 

You nudge him by the elbow as he closes the door behind you, following him to the living room. You find Chan there with Minho, holding controllers, the coffee table covered in beer bottles and snacks. Jisung sits back down, pushing Chan’s hoodie back to reveal a chaos of brown curls. 

“It’s for you, lover boy.” 

Minho gives you a wave as he drinks a sip of beer, his eyes not leaving the television screen. Chan, however, looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

You fidget a little, pulling on the sleeves of your jacket. “I wanted to talk to you. Do you have time?” 

“Y-yeah, of course…” Chan answers. He puts down the controller, standing up to meet you. Behind him, Jisung follows your conversation, not trying to be subtle in the slightest. “Is everything okay?” Chan adds in a whisper. 

You nod and smile reassuringly. “Yeah. Do you want to take a walk, maybe?” You are a bit tired from walking all the way here, but you’re not sure you want to do this inside. 

“Isn’t it raining?” Chan frowns. 

“It’s stopped,” you say, and Chan smiles. 

“Let me get my shoes.” 

You tell him to take his time, but Chan only heads towards the door and slips on his sneakers. You wave at Jisung and Minho, who you realize are now both staring at you suspiciously. 

“Ignore them,” Chan chuckles, putting a hand on your shoulder to guide you outside the door. 

The wind has picked up a little but it’s still not cold. You keep your hands in the pockets of your jacket, walking alongside Chan, who looks up at the now pitch black sky. There’s not much to see up there except the deep darkness - but perhaps Chan sees something you don’t. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You walk for a minute or two, heading away from the busy street into a nearby residential neighborhood. It’s packed with huge houses, large lawns, neatly kept trees looming over your heads. Once in a while you feel a drop of rain fall on your head or your shoulders, but you don’t mind. 

“I’m just coming back from San’s,” you tell Chan, breaking the silence. You know he was waiting for you to speak first - giving you the time to find your words. 

He glances at you, looking concerned. “Oh?” 

“I felt we needed to have a conversation,” you nod. “I did a lot of thinking since the party and I just wanted him to know how I felt.” 

Chan breathes out. “How did it go?” 

“Good,” you smile. “I told him I missed him too.” You give Chan a look, but he’s staring ahead of him, lips closed, his hands behind his back. “But that it is over between him and me.”

Chan looks at you then. Is that pride in his eyes? 

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” you breathe. “That night at the party. And recently, not answering your calls. I just… I really needed to think.” 

“I know, love,” he says. The nickname tugs at your heart. You can’t ever get tired of hearing him call you that. “I never held it against you.” 

“And then I didn’t really talk to you, and -” 

“You needed to figure things out,” Chan softly interrupts. “You don’t have to apologize for that. You shouldn’t, even.” 

“But still. Things were good between us, and I’m scared I ruined everything,” you finally admit with a shrug, looking down at your feet.

Chan stops, taking you gently by the arm so you face him. He’s smiling, full lips curved upwards, his black clothes looking so cozy you wish you could cuddle up against him. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he frowns. “I mean, I don’t want to assume that there was anything between us, or that you have to -” 

“I like you.” It’s your turn to interrupt him. “I like you a lot, Chan.” 

He looks at you, and you let yourself get lost in his eyes. 

“You make me feel safe, and I have fun with you, and you get me. And if it’s something you want too, then I’d like to see where this could get us.” 

It feels good to let it off your chest - but it’s also much easier than you would have thought. You really mean it, you realize. Every word. Exploring a future with Chan is something you want, something your heart feels at peace about. 

You realize he still hasn’t spoken - but you’re not defeated by it. You just keep looking at him, smiling gently. 

“Please don’t feel like you have to answer now,” you whisper. 

He shakes his head and speaks in a whisper. “I’m just taking it in.” 

“What?” 

“You, telling me you like me back.” 

You blink in slight disbelief, letting out a laugh. You push your index against his chest. “You’re such a romantic, Bang Chan.” 

“Yeah, I am,” he laughs wholeheartedly, bringing you into his arms. You settle your cheek against his chest, your arms around him. He places a kiss on your hair, nodding to himself. “You better get used to it.” 

You stay like this for a minute, just breathing each other in, the wind swaying around you. You’re in Chan’s arms. He breathes alongside you. Your heart feels calm. Your heart feels free. 

“You know what I feel about you. It hasn’t changed. So can I take you on a real date now?” he asks, his fingers sliding in your hair, sending shivers through your entire body. 

You nod. “On one condition.” 

He leans back, finding your eyes. “Hm?” 

“Kiss me,” you breathe. 

He just grins, light shining in his eyes. His lips meet yours, delicately and lovingly, as if he wants to savor every second. You can believe it, because it’s the same for you. It’s a slow kiss, the kind that lasts for a lifetime, the kind you can’t ever forget. He tastes like trust, like the softest light, like rain that falls exactly at the right time.

You kiss for a long time, until your lips feel swollen, until your mouth is dry. Chan pushes his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek.

“How about we go home and get you warm?” 

You look up at him, your eyes twinkling in adoration. “Will you keep holding me?” 

He smiles. “I’ll never let go.”

Chan and you find the front door locked. He unlocks it, stepping inside an empty apartment. The bottles and snacks are still on the table, but the television is turned off and Jisung and Minho are nowhere to be seen. 

You remove your shoes, following Chan in the kitchen, where you find a note scribbled onto an old take out receipt. Out for drinks. Enjoy the empty apartment. 

Chan chuckles. “I guess they know.” 

You smile, wrapping your arms around Chan from behind. “I think Ji’s had his suspicions since I brought you soup.” 

“That was good soup.” 

He turns around, placing his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. Your hips almost meet his, making you feel a little dizzy. You place your palms against his chest, resisting the urge to slide them under his hoodie to feel his skin. 

“So…” you smile. 

“So,” he repeats with a chuckle. “What do you want to do?”  

You bite your lip, blushing slightly. 

“You want to… enjoy the empty apartment?” Chan suggests. You like his confidence, although you notice that his ears are bright red. 

You nod, stealing him a kiss. “I just want you.” 

He hums against your lips, his fingers digging into your skin. You take another step forward, decidedly pushing your hips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Chan tilts his head, his mouth seeking yours, and you can feel him parting your lips slowly. He doesn’t want to insist, but you let him, your tongue meeting his. Instinctively you arch your back, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. 

“I’ve been craving you so much,” Chan whispers. “I just want to feel you around me again.” 

You clench at his words, letting out a small moan that gets lost in his mouth. “Fuck, Chan…” 

“I want to make you feel good,” he breathes, kissing you again, and you can feel his length harden against your stomach. “Will you let me, love?” 

“Please touch me, Chan, I missed you so much…”

Just like that, he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He starts to walk, never ceasing to kiss you, as he brings you to his bedroom. Once you’re there, he pushes the door closed, and lays you down carefully on the mattress. He’s warm, his muscular thighs pushing yours apart so he can settle between them. Leaning down to kiss you again, your head falling against the pillow, he grinds his crotch against you - and you can feel your walls throb. 

There are too many layers of clothing to your liking, so you tug at his hoodie and Chan understands the signal. He removes it and his t-shirt in one movement, letting you touch his chest freely. His jeans hang low on his waist, so you trace his abdominal muscles, let your fingers wander on his back. 

Your clothes are next, Chan kissing you all the while he removes them. Soon you are naked under him, one of Chan’s hands holding your breasts, brushing the back of his thumb on the nipple. You shudder, Chan leaning down to swirl his tongue around it, sending waves of pleasure through you.

But there’s something you want. Something that you’ve wanted to do, something you’ve been thinking about. “Chan -” 

“Yes, love?” he whispers, coming back to kiss your neck, his tongue leaving wet trails on your skin. 

“I want to taste you,” you breathe, and he looks up to meet your eyes. You stroke his hair, feeling a little shy. “Please, I can’t stop thinking about it…” 

Chan closes his eyes. “Fuck, I almost came just hearing you say that.” 

You both chuckle, sharing a feverish kiss. You sit up, moving positions so that Chan is the one laying down under you. His eyes are darker than ever, his lips swollen from the kissing. You can’t get enough of him, feeling almost drunk as you leave a trail of kisses down his chest, unbuttoning his shorts and lowering them. His cock bounces free, already hard, but you remove his clothes completely before you come back to take it in your hand. Chan sits up a little, leaning against his pillows, and he’s able to look at you. Gently, you palm his length, moving your hand up and down. Your thumb rolls around his tip, spreading the pre-cum there, and Chan grunts at your gesture. 

His fingers hold your hair back, his eyes never leaving your face as you slowly jerk him off, loving the way his cock pulsates around your fingers. In fact you are clenching around nothing, aching for pressure. But for now you want to take care of him - you want to show him just how much he means to you, how eager you are for him. 

You flick your tongue at the tip of his cock and Chan lets out a low groan, pushing his head back into the pillows. You smile softly, wrapping your lips around him, his moans dancing to your ears as you start to bob your head up and down. You suck him slow, teasing him with your tongue at the same time, attentive to the sounds he makes. Sometimes he twitches a little, or his fingers will slightly pull at your hair, and you know you’re doing something good. 

Your fingers leave his base when you try to take him as deep as you can in your mouth, feeling your lips stretch, saliva and pre-cum coating his cock. 

“F-fuck - Y/N - fuck, that feels good…” 

A single hum escapes your lips, but you do not stop blowing him, perhaps taking too much pleasure at feeling him lose composure. His hips buck, and you do not stop. You join the movement of your hand twisting around his base with your mouth, and Chan’s grip on your hair tightens.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck - ah, don’t - ah, Y/N, stop,” he whimpers, and you move your head back, looking up at him with wide eyes. Chan takes a second to breathe out, and you feel his cock throbbing in your hand. “I’m going to come if you keep going,” he chuckles. “I want this to last.” 

You smile, crawling back up on the bed for a kiss, straddling him. “Was it good?” 

“So good, love,” he grins, kissing you. “So, so good.” 

You settle your drenched core against his cock, rubbing it up and down the length, moaning in response. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispers against your ear, licking it gently. You whimper, desperate for touch. “Can I fuck you now, love?” 

“Yes, please,” you moan. 

Chan is quick to grab a condom from his bedside table, wrapping it around his length before he guides it against your entrance. Slowly, you push yourself down, his cock stretching you. You close your eyes at the feeling, the pleasure making you dizzy. Chan pulls your upper body closer to his, playing with your breasts as he starts to thrusts his pelvis, entering you deeper each time. You roll your hips, finding a rhythm quickly. 

It feels so good to have him close, so good to let yourself go. Your heavy breathing mixes with his, touching his chest as he fucks you, and you’re both lost in the moment, not exchanging a word. He enters you deeply, his thrusts both gentle and passionate. It is not quick, but steady, every movement measured. 

You fuck like that for a while, just breathing and moving with each other, until your pleasure starts to ramp up. You are clenching around Chan, who grunts in your ear, and he holds your waist, anchoring himself there to accelerate his thrusts. He’s fucking you harder, and you cry out his name as you come. He follows you quickly in his release, breathing your name, making you feel whole like only he can. 

Both you and Chan breathe out, bodies slightly swaying like in a storm, holding each other tight. His arms around you, your fingers on his skin. 

Lifelines. 

After a little while he kisses your neck, your cheek, your lips. You sigh because you don’t want to move, although you know you have to. 

“My love,” he whispers. “How about a shower and some food, just the two of us?” 

You smile, leaning back to kiss his nose. “Just you and me?” 

He nods. “Just you and me.” 

That’s all you need.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let the taste linger on your tongue. Just enough sweetness, hints of bitterness, the perfect balance. You’ve never eaten something that good, you’re almost sure of it. Chan, who is sitting in front of you, lets out a chuckle.

“That good, huh?” 

You let out a soft moan. “Best ice cream I’ve ever tasted.” 

Chan grins. “I know something that tastes better.” 

You push his leg under the table playfully and he chuckles, shaking his head, both embarrassed and amused by his dirty joke. You can’t stop looking at him. He looks so handsome in his fitted black shirt, just one button undone, a slim silver chain around his neck. When he showed up at your door wearing that, fitted black trousers and leather shoes, you almost pulled him into your apartment and abandoned the idea of going to the restaurant. But Chan had also been holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his eyes sparkling with joy, and that made your heart dance in different ways. 

“Pardon my French, but you look fucking gorgeous,” he had said, leaning in for a kiss. 

You had hugged him, giggling like a teenager as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, his other hand touching the fabric of your black dress, exploring the way it hugged your body. You had to push him away and take the flowers from him - if you let yourself go against his embrace you knew you would never make it to the restaurant on time. 

Chan had made a reservation at a fancy place, not at all your usual style, but he had once gone with family and had loved the food, so he wanted you to taste it too. 

When you leave the restaurant, your belly is full, your heart content, your soul even more. You stop when you cross the door, however. While you were inside it started to rain. It’s not a drizzle - it’s heavy, cold rain, falling down straight and hard on the ground. 

“Damn,” you let out, glancing at Chan. “Should we wait it out, or…?” 

Something sparkles in his eyes, and he doesn’t need to speak for you to understand what he is thinking about. You let out a nervous giggle, giving him a single nod.

Chan takes your hand and the both of you dash into the rain. You let out a scream because the rain is cold, but you don’t stop. You and Chan run towards the car, crossing the parking lot as fast as you can. He doesn’t let go of your hand. 

You run fast, it feels like you have wings.

And yet, it’s like time slows down. 

You glance at Chan, his eyes disappear in crescents, his laugh the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You can’t help it - you stop, pull on his hand and draw his body towards you. 

Under the falling rain you kiss. 

He kisses you back, his lips hungry and smooth. 

You slide an arm around his waist, and slowly, you start dancing. 

Chan bursts in laughter against your lips. He draws back, looking at you with tenderness spilling out his eyes, and joins you in the dance. For a minute or two, you dance under the rain. You turn, swirl, sway. You can’t stop laughing. 

You kiss again, and the rain starts falling harder on your heads, and even then you do not stop.

— the end.

Well, hello ♡ Believe me, posting was a surprise for me as well! But I found myself missing writing, missing sharing my writing with you, missing this. So here is the sequel that I once talked about, that has been written for a long time! I hope it's not too disappointing. I remember the writing of it very fondly. ♡ Please be kind as I haven't posted in forever haha.

Thank you for sticking around, thank you for reading me. I am so incredibly thankful. I don't think I'll create a taglist for now, so do not ask please ♡ I hope you enjoyed this, and please take care of each other. Love you all ♡♡

#bang chan smut #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #skz smut #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader

[queers-gambit]

When Pride Married Prejudice -- completed series masterlist

requesting rules and masterlist

completed series summary: she is the (only) trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lord Laenor Velaryon. after her younger brother, Lucerys, slices out the eye of their uncle, Aemond Targaryen, her hand is offered as payment to keep the peace. though unexpected, she finds herself in a loving marriage, until devastating news forces her to make an impossible choice.

pairing: Aemond Taargaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

total series word count: 97,184

universal warnings: book and show spoilers, cursing, smut, angst.

note: alternate endings because i'm restless and can't choose. also the idea of a Velaryon!reader isn't my own, so, let's play nice and show a shred of respect for different author's varying ideas, perspectives, and details - thank yew ✨

in chronological order:

When Pride Married Prejudice

When Pride Married Prejudice [ part two ]

It Feels Like (the Very) First Time

It Feels Like (the Very) First Time [ part two ]

Petitions

Distraction

The Inky Green Council

Bearer of Bad News

alternate ending one: Kin Slayer • [ part two ]

alternate ending two: Sweetest Devotion • [ part two ]

guide to final alternate endings: Kin Slayer -- is for those in the slutty angst club 'cause i'm comin' for your feelings. reader is Team Black. Sweetest Devotion -- is for those who crave closure and comfort. reader is Team Green.

in order of publication: Distraction Bearer of Bad News Petitions The Inky Green Council When Pride Married Prejudice WPMP [ part two ] It Feels Like (the Very) First Time It Feels Like (the Very) First Time [ part two ] alternate endings: Kin Slayer • [ part two ] // Sweetest Devotion • [ part two ]

WPMP Universe drabbles:

all with be marked if they are or are not considered part of the series timeline. please pay attention to those notes.

organized in order of submission brought to you by my beautiful readers who sent requests:

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and small fluff i wonder who aemond would choose if he was given the choice of saving his wife or the baby during childbirth... would he choose the same as his father?

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and FLUFF i LOVE how you worded Aemond choosing sweet girl over the baby because in all truth, i imagine him justifying his choice as "what use would i be to a child without the tender care of a mother and an empty shell of a father?" because he knows IF he had chosen otherwise, he would be following in Viserys' footsteps and he wants to be better. so i 100% agree he would choose them over the child and ofc he's read of the aftermath of losing a child for the mother, so he's there to coax sweet girl but at the same time i feel like he'd mourn with her because that was a life they created together.

• ( requested ) -- ANGST how would he react if ever in a very unlucky world, he would lose both his child and wife at childbirth (not like viserys where he was given a choice) but bec it just didnt end well esp when pregnancies doesnt really guarantee a safe delivery all the time.

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and FLUFF 3 Times He Didn't, 1 Time He Did can you please write something where the reader (the same reader in your series) is spending memorable time with her grand sire and he asks her “will I be remembered as a good king”. 🥺

Wattpad link

to all my beloved readers -

thank you for coming on this journey with me. what a ride it's been writing this. now that the series is complete, i admit i'm a bit sad. i just wanted to take the time to thank you all for bearing with me through this, and share my gratitude and love for you all. happy reading!

all my love, 🖤🍒 Cherry

#aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond hotd #aemond targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #complete series #complete story #requests open #author is sleep deprived

[desafinado]

𓆩♡𓆪 oblivious crushes hcs

their crush on you is as clear as day, but you seem to be wearing sunglasses

°｡⋆ kaveh, alhaitham, kaeya x reader (separately)

°｡⋆ fluff, maybe a bit ooc alhaitham, lots of touchy/clingy :( and some angst in kaeya's part

note: i haven’t gone too far into sumeru yet D: (purely bc of laziness and college) so that’s why alhaitham might be a bit ooc… but! i hope yall enjoy, i had fun. (ps. this was inspired by my short convo with @kana-dayo , i hope u don't mind the tag just tell me if you want me remove it!!)

kaveh ♡

it threw for him a loop the first time. you were both walking down the port at sunset when he asked if you liked him, and you said of course you love him and you couldn’t ask for a better friend.

he thought you had rejected him when and was genuinely heartbroken for a day, until you visited the next day acting as if everything was fine.

he did not know how to proceed, but he did with caution… when he realized, you genuinely did not understand, he decided to build up the romance before asking you again.

he started making it known to you (and everyone else in the room) that he wanted to spend time with you.

“alhaitham, if you could give us a moment or tw-” “no.” “we’re having dinner out then, dear, lets go.”

of course, he would never do anything that might make you uncomfortable, the moment you express any discomfort or hesitance, he backs off.

that being said, you have never really done such, most times you’re even encouraging him

“kaveh… hugs now please :( “

and how can he not deny you?

speaking of which, he also tried to make more gentle subtle touches, taking your hand when you both walked, placing a hand on the small of your back, hugs that lasted just a second too long.

by the end of it he was extraordinarily clingy, one of his favorite moments is when your head is on his lap and he gets to caress your head.

he acts nonchalantly about it, and so do you. little did you know was that he never did that with anyone else.

“what do you mean kaveh doesn’t like hugging? we spend hours cuddling on the couch..”

to be honest he doesn’t really think much of it either, touching you is like second nature to him. you don’t mind either, because for some odd reason, it just feels right.

he’s almost certain that you like him too, but he’s too afraid to confirm it. he’d much rather stay like this in some sort of limbo between friends and lovers.

but eventually, it eats him up. he needs some sort of closure, even if it meant the collapse of his lovey-dovey facade.

everything’s in place. he had gone through all the scenarios, he knew you were in a good mood, and alhaitham was all the way in sumeru city. everything was perfect for him to make his move, all he needed was you.

“kaveh, what’s all this?”

a picnic blanket was spread out on the grass, a strawberry shortcake, sandwiches and wine laid on top. kaveh stood before it, his familiar smile inviting you to come closer. “ah, i have to admit, it is something a bit special so, please have a seat.”

you follow his advice and gently rest on the blanket, careful not to disturb kaveh’s work. he does the same and sighs. “hm… is this an anniversary or celebration of some sort? did you finally pay off your debt?” you start to ask excitedly, getting a bit ahead of yourself. kaveh simply shakes his head, chuckling softly.

“no, dear. on the contrary, if this all falls through, it could be my funeral.”

you give him a curious glance, tilting your head. he takes both his hands in yours and squeezes them gently.

“nothing that serious, do you remember when i asked you if you liked me?”

“yes… and i still do, if that’s what your concerned about.”

“when i said that, i meant to ask if you liked me as more than just a friend.”

…

…

“you mean… like family? like sibli-”

“no, no, dear god no. i mean like… lovers.”

your face turns red at the mention of that word, lovers. it implied romantic love, of course; you weren’t that dense. he’s looking straight into your eyes, awaiting a response, but your lips feel as though they’ve frozen in place. a few more seconds of silence pass, and his lips purse into a heavy frown.

“ah, i’m sorry, if you don’t… i just couldn’t go on like this, pretending that we were something more, living in ignorant bliss. i truly am sorry.”

“no, wait. kaveh…”

you finally build up the courage to speak, letting go of his hands and caressing his cheek. if there’s something you can’t ignore, its the way he’s putting himself down.

“i-i like you that way too, i just didn’t want to believe it either. i… i didn’t want to delude myself into that, so i never entertained the possibility that-”

his tender lips find yours in a kiss, interrupting your rambling along with any doubt the two of you had left. just like all of his other touches, the kiss felt right, familiar, and simply satisfying.

alhaitham ♡

feelings, specifically love, are a far too strong force that many times they most certainly overcome any logic of even the most robotic of personalities; enter alhaitham.

normally, he would be upfront about these sorts of things, giving them the ultimatum. letting them choose to accept or reject his feelings.

but this time, he didn’t want to give you that chance. he needed you to accept him, he couldn’t imagine any other possibility.

so what does he do? he takes a chance with the whole concept of “romancing” in order to win your heart.

he makes an effort to be around you more, he’ll listen to your long winded rants about the most random topics.

“so, why do you care about this again?” “i just do, i’m not quite sure why honestly.” “that’s understandable, please go on.”

he’s never been one to care about how others might perceive him, how others might react to his actions, but he cares so much about you and he wants you to trust him.

once he notices the way your lips curl up when he enters a room or the way you look at him when you feel a bit overwhelmed, he takes this as a sign that he can try being a bit more touchy.

he never really understood the appeal of it, until he felt how warm you were, how your skin brushing against his made him feel a bit more understood and loved.

and you don’t mind one bit, in fact, you’re happy that he has you to lean on (literally and metaphorically)

but you imagine his roommates' surprise to find alhaitham on the couch cuddled up with someone he had never even met.

“wake them up, and you will sleep outside.”

he truly believes he’s being subtle, but everyone (well those who have the courage to) teases him about it.

he brushes it off, but warns them not to tell you or else…

however, when he starts moving onto more overt and blatant shows of affections, he is sorely disappointed to realize that you are not catching on.

he’d gift you flowers before every outing, call you cute nicknames, and even be more honest with his own feelings.

a polite smile, a thank you, and enthusiastic nod was all you ever responded with.

he was disappointed in himself, he thought he must’ve done something wrong, that he must’ve made you uncomfortable.

he needs to confront you about this in his own way, for his sake and yours.

“it’s you…”

his voice rings out like a bell in a cathedral, snapping you back into reality. he had requested for you to meet him at one of the gazebos near the akademiya. stars had been showered upon the night sky, and it was all you could look at, until alhaitham’s voice, of course. you turn around and chuckle at his awe-stricken face.

“glad to see you too. your letter sounded quite urgent, is something the matter?”

upon seeing you, he can’t control his movements, rushing towards you and taking you into a dramatic hug. you’re quick to hug him back, offering him any and all support he might need. he buries his head into your shoulder, taking in your scent, and touch, enjoying it while it lasts. his voice almost cracks as he speaks.

“yes. i’m sorry for making you uncomfortable with my… advances. i understand if you never want to see me again.”

the shock is almost enough to knock you over, but you simply pull away and look at him with deep concern. you didn’t know where he was coming from, and you had never seen him like this.

“advances? what sort of advances?”

“the romantic ones?”

“oh! towards who? i don’t mind at all, really.”

its his turn widen his eyes, he closes his eyes and pauses. he needs to pick his next words carefully, he really wants this to be a swift death, no point in dragging his heart against the pavement.

“towards you…? the one i love is you.”

he finally admits, hoping you finally understand. he’s run out of words to say, ways to express his unwavering love for you. you flicker between his eyes and lips, confirming if what he says is true, and what he feels is real; after a moment, you speak up.

“i’m sorry, i never… i knew you were opening up, but i didn’t stop to think…”

you calmly take him back into your arms, letting his head rest back on your shoulder. you stroke his hair slowly, trying to soothe him. “i was already so happy that you seemed to be opening up to me, i didn’t realize you meant it in that way. i didn’t want to push it any further than necessary.” he allows you to touch and pamper him, allowing himself the privilege of your tender care.

“i see. so you weren’t comfortable with it? you’re not comfortable with me…?”

“no, alhaitham. i’m more than comfortable with you, and i’d do all those things with you again.”

you blush, understanding the implications of what you had just said. you just opened yourself to him, laid yourself out for him to accept or reject. you close your eyes, bracing for what comes next, when you suddenly feel yourself being lifted up and spun around gently.

“alhaitham!”

“that’s all i needed to hear, darling. from this day on, we can do all those things and more… again and again, everyday.”

kaeya ♡

he likes to tease, that is no question. making others red in the face, in anger or embarrassment, is a pastime of his.

but why is it that you of all people, his one and only crush, remain unaffected?

its not like you even have a snarky remark back or try to hide your embarrassment, you simply let it pass as though it was the cool summer breeze against your skin.

“oh my… shouldn’t you take me out to dinner first?” “uh why?”

you surely enjoyed his company and the silly jokes he’d make, even though there would be times you just didn’t understand what he was talking about.

other than that, he’d often be extra chivalrous towards you, holding the door for you, taking your hand as you walk down the stairs… but i mean that’s how knights just are, right?

though you can often feel his overprotective step out, especially when it comes to your safety, you once again chalk it to him in his cavalry captain mode.

only his closest friends and allies can detect the minor difference in his behavior around you, except you, of course. it doesn’t bother him, because it only solidifies his love for you, how serious he is about you.

sometimes he truly is just amazed with the way your mind works to rule out all romantic possibilities, its like the notion of love does not even exist to you.

he doesn’t mind it one bit, though. if anything, he wishes to be the person who introduces you to love.

he knows he can reveal his feelings at any moment, but he wants you to figure it out for yourself, that epiphany of love is something he feels everyone should experience…

that is until he catches you blushing with another person.

“oh yeah! they’ve been talking to them the entire night… they’re really hitting it off, i don’t-”

every word after that is just muffled noise to him. he didn’t understand the feeling coursing through his vein. it was a poignant mixture of jealousy, sadness, and disappointment in himself.

he immediately steps out of angel’s share, not even bothering with a drink to drown his feelings. he thought he was special to you, the way you were to him.

that’s when the creaking of the tavern doors catches his attention, revealing you.

“oh, hi.”

your voice was timid in the chilly night atmosphere, the silence between you and kaeya almost deafening. he huffs and crosses his arms, trying to pretend as if he hadn’t just felt his heart rip, shatter and

“hey, so what are you doing here? i know you’re not one for taverns, most specially on a wednesday night.”

he doesn’t miss a beat, starting his investigation. your eyes widen at his unusually stern demeanor; its not like you haven’t seen this side of him, but you don’t know have a clue as to where it's coming from. you start to sober up, feeling the excitement and adrenaline of the bar leave you. “honestly, i had nothing better to do… and i was trying to get out of my comfort zone.”

he raises an eyebrow at your seemingly simple explanation; you didn’t have any reason to lie, and to be fair, it wasn’t like he had a right to know anyways. his posture relaxes as gives you his arm, gesturing for you to take it; you, having no reason to deny him, take his arm in yours. you both start walking down the streets, no definite destination in mind.

“Is something wrong, kaeya?”

the glazed look in your eyes is something he can’t ignore, and he knows you won’t ignore his furrowed eyebrows either. he sighs letting the cold air entering his lungs, as if numbing himself before the storm truly begins.

“yes, actually there is. could i be a burden to you?”

“kaeya… you know you can always talk to me about your feelings, you’re no burden to me.”

a bitter chuckle escapes his lips, acting as if he truly had nothing left to lose. “that’s why i love you, you know? ah… i thought i’d be saying this in a drunken stammer or you’d hear from rosaria or lisa, but i’m more sober than ever and… i love you so much it hurts.”

suddenly, his touch feels much colder than it ever has, sending a shiver down your spine. you pause for a moment, the adrenaline and heat rising back up.

“k-kaeya, wait… i love you too. i’m-”

“you needn’t spare my feelings or lie. perhaps it was my fault for letting my pride get the best of me, and now you’ve been swept away by someone else, someone who makes you blush.”

your eyebrows curved into a straight line, clearly baffled by kaeya’s assumptions. yes, you were a bit oblivious when it came to love, so you feel like you’d take note if “someone swept you away”.“kaeya, i have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you’re referring to my demeanor in the bar, i was…” you face only gets redder by the moment. “i-i don’t hold my alcohol very well…”

kaeya pauses for a second, his lips parting in a small o-shape. he feels like such a fool for jumping to assumptions so quickly, but he quickly regains his composure realizing something far more crucial, a smirk plastered onto his face.

“i see. so you like me after all? and i’ve finally managed to fluster you”

“n-no, you didn’t! the alcohol just hasn’t-”

“aha, so you do love me? dear, just say the word, and i’m all yours.”

requests are open!! please do not reposts on other sites.

#genshin imagines #genshin x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaeya x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin hcs #genshin impact

[barefoothighlander]

I need more of mean reader and ghost holy crap I lived that so much

ask and you shall receive bestie, I give you part two of mean gn!reader x ghost fucking up in every way possible.

warnings: angst, violence, another lil smooch, Ghost has no thoughts in his brain

part 1 part 3

5am, the sun had just begun inching its way over the horizon and you hadn’t slept a wink, your anger festering in your stomach playing over the kiss a million times. You hated it, hated how good it felt, how much you wanted to feel him again, you hate him for taking it away but even more for doing it in the first place.

How dare he make you feel like that, just to take it all away in a matter of seconds, the sensation of his rough lips on yours haunted you, the scratch of his stubble, the callous of his palms, holding your face, everything about it felt so right, but you hated him, you’d hated him since you joined the team, he was always cocky, undermining your abilities in the field, when it came to dividing teams he would audibly sigh at the mention of your name, and yet he kissed you like he was never going to see you again like he was on the brink of death and the taste of your lips would bring him back. Fuck it.

In a surge of either confidence or anger, you marched your way to his quarters, trying to maintain composure before knocking on his door, you hear a quiet shuffle inside as he opens it, his face covered by his balaclava but his chest bare, you curse yourself for staring and push your way past him into the dark room. Collecting your thoughts for a moment before turning back and pointing an accusatory finger at him,

“How dare you”

“Keep your voice down”

You scoff, “I don’t give a fuck if the whole base hears me, don’t pull that shit ever again”

“Why not?”

You omit a deep laugh, “Why not? Well for starters I hate you, everything about you” a lie

“S’that why you’re eye fuckin me?” he asks eyebrow quirked

“You are so goddamn cocky, always think you know better, think you are better than everyone, I’m sick of it, just- just don’t come near me” you say with a defeated breath

“Tell me you feel the same”

You turn your head up

“Or tell me you truly hate me and I’ll leave you alone”

You scrunch your eyebrows, “Goodbye Simon”

Three days had passed since your outburst, three days without seeing him, talking to him, feeling him, it made you sick, that every fibre of your being yearned for the man you had despised for years, every night your mind wandered back to that moment, him grabbing you, lips connecting, the taste of him, honey, tobacco, and whiskey, the way his touched burned leaving scorned imprints on your skin that you could never wash away.

 During training your mind was clouded, thoughts of where he was, what he was doing, if he really would never see you again, you were too stubborn to ask around, unrelenting in your desire to scratch him from your memory, but you couldn’t, you’d catch a glimpse of black turning around corners and your heart would flutter, only to be dropped to the floor at the realization that it wasn’t him. You grew quieter on ops, often being paired now with Soap or Gaz, you assumed Ghost had put in a word with Price about not wanting to be near you, it hurt, your chest grew tight thinking that he truly didn’t want you, that kissing you was simply a game to him.

Another week passed without even a word from him, deciding you couldn’t take it anymore you made your way to his quarters, raising an apprehensive fist before tapping on the door, you felt defeated, crawling back to him, you just needed to know why, some sort of closure that would let your mind relax. He opens it promptly, tensing at the sight of you, shoulders sunk, eyes heavy,

“I didn’t say the word”

He takes a moment, studying your face before opening the door to pull you into his embrace.

“I’m so fucking mad at you” your watery eyes leaking onto his shirt

He shushes you softly, “I know”

You pull from his embrace and move further into the room, looking over its contents and your eyes flick to an open journal on the desk, you look over to him and he holds his breath as you turn to read the pages. A few scattered entries about work, some about his feelings, you flip through, scanning, not wanting to pry before you reach a page of doodles, your breath hitches as you look closer, they’re you, just quick pencil sketches, you sitting at a desk, eyes focused on a file, you cleaning your gun, mundane things that you don’t think twice about he’s put to memory.

“I don’t understand”

“Neither do I” he says, moving to you to close the journal, his hand resting on top of yours.

“I thought you didn’t like me” you say

He shakes his head

“I can’t stop thinking about you, it’s interfering with my work” you admit and he smiles

“Now you know how I feel”

The two of you stand silently for a few minutes, trying to read the other, trying to comprehend whatever you were feeling, your anger towards him still burning deep in your chest, but being overtaken by a blossoming desire, two opposing forces, working against each other to create the perfect storm.

“I should go” you say

“Okay”

You make your way to the door, stopping for a second before turning around,

“Simon”

He turns his head to face you and watches as you close the gap, soft hands coming to lift his mask slightly before satiating your burning desire, he tastes the same, a perfect symphony of flavours, and you’re addicted. He holds you close, not daring to let you go again, you pull back resting your hand on his chest, glancing at him through your lashes.

“Don’t disappear again”

After that night you begin to see traces of him around the base again, scattered mugs in the mess that belong to him, some pieces of gear left in the armoury, a draped sweatshirt in the gym. He shows himself in glimpses, not wanting to impose his presence on you, you fight with yourself to not seek him out.

You still don’t trust him, not after what happened during your missions, not after he so easily left you alone, murmurs spread around base about your newly found ‘happier’ state, people began questioning, whispering to each other as you entered the room but no one dared approach you for any confirmation. Your outlook on work and the world was unchanging, war was still war, and you had a duty to perform but now, now you had something to fight for, even if it was tiny moments only the two of you shared.

Ghost still hadn’t been placed back on a team with you but you began to think that it had more to do with you audibly cursing him out in front of the 141 than his feelings for you, he was nervous to be around you, not only because of his growing feelings but he didn’t want to piss you off, he knew what you could do with a simple knife to a room full of men.

He avoided you when he noticed you looking angrier than usual, often waiting until nightfall to sneak into your room, he’d stay for a few minutes, chatting about little things, new equipment he got to try, the weather, anything that felt safe. He just wanted to be near you, even for a fragment of time, and you welcomed him, minute by minute, your distaste for him lessening by the day, until the next op.

The mission was simple, get in, clear the building, get out, and wait for extraction. Price was providing overwatch while you, Ghost, and Soap took lead deploying smoke for cover and anticipating the worst, everything was going smoothly until you hit the third floor. You and Ghost made your way to the door, you burst in as he covered you, except he didn’t clear the last room, a straggler, hiding under the bed had managed to avoid his wrath. You turn into the room to be greeted by the blunt end of a rifle coming into contact with your temple, it dazed you, making you stumble backwards as you tried to reach for your enemy, in the midst of your struggle the lone man had made his way out, firing off two shots before Ghost killed him, one landing in Ghost’s leg causing him to fall to the ground. Looking up to see you struggling against your opponent he reaches for his smoke grenade throwing it to provide any cover from the back door of the room.

You see the smoke, kicking at your enemy's knee and sending him tumbling toward the ground in a scream of pain before you feel your throat tighten and your eyes sting. You grasp at your throat, willing it to breathe and spare a glance to Ghost who rushes toward you concerned, a moment of realization hits as he feels around his vest, shit. He grabbed the wrong canister, deploying tear gas rather than smoke, his hands reach for you as you’re taken by a fit of coughing, your body using every defence to try and breathe, he knows it’s not lethal, he spares a glance to you and advances into the room, leaving you defenceless. He clears the hallway and makes his way back to you, crouching by your side,

“Soap this is Ghost how copy?”

“This is Soap, good copy, building is clear”

He snakes his arms under your body, hoisting you to his chest as your palms dig into your eyes, trying to calm the burning sensation, your tears staining your cheeks.

Ghost makes his way out, met by Soap,

“Steamin jesus LT, what happened?”

“Get to the RV point Johnny”

The two men quicken their pace as they rush towards cover behind some trees where they’re met by Price.

“Holy hell, what happened?”

All Ghost can do it shake his head as the team awaits extraction.

The time spent in the heli ride back allowed for your symptoms to die down a little, allowing you to finally open your eyes a little, your breathing returning to a steady pace, once you touched down Ghost reaches his hand to help you out of the heli as you shove it away, glaring at him. He watches as you slowly walk yourself to the infirmary, feeling defeated.

The fix was easy, a quick eye rinse and some water and your symptoms would resolve on their own after a while, the nurse kept you in the small office for an hour to check for any signs of damage to your eyes or lungs. Once cleared you made your way back to your room, chest overflowing with anger as groups of rookies cleared a path for you to move.

You reach your door but before you can open it, a large figure blocks your path, leaning against the wall beside your door, he moves to speak but you don’t afford him the time, quickly opening and slamming your door in his face. Your head aches from the fumes, your stomach on the verge of revealing its contents as you step into the shower, you scrub your skin till it’s raw, trying to clean the mess from the mission off you, trying to clean the feeling of his hands off you. Every time you trust him he gives you another reason not to, he can use every excuse in the book but it won’t make up for his mistakes, whatever feelings you had for him replaced with deep-rooted anger. You didn’t have the strength to yell at him, even through the raging storm of hatred, you couldn’t find the words to express how he made you feel, you wanted to punch him, to make him feel the same way you did, you wanted him to trust someone will his life, his heart, and watch them crumble that trust in their bare hands. This was your last straw, you didn’t care how much your body craved him, you could chalk it up to basic human desire, you never wanted to see him again.

a/n: quick tag for @lauraliisa who wanted a reminder :)

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost x reader #ghost angst #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley x you #mw2022 #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x you #call of duty mwii #call of duty

[normspellsman]

masterlist ଘ♡𓏲﹒ॱ˖ ﹆

this is my new & improved masterlist page! links to my works will be posted on here as well as fic recommendations <3.

i really suck at summaries so whatever i put down as the little summary is not the entirety of it

♡ = fluff | ☹︎ = angst / no comfort | ✧ = comfort | ♢ = suggestive content | ♠︎ = other | ❦ = requested | ❀ = popular

here are my rules / my request info page! <3 (requests are closed!)

AVATAR (first film)

— none!

AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER

Neteyam

Imagines:

secret — ☹︎ | ♢

neteyam x fem!human!reader ➡︎ neteyam had a forbidden relationship with human!reader. but once he announces to the reader that is he arranged to be mated to another, their relationship comes to its inevitable end.

to the ends of pandora — ♡ | ☹︎ | ✧ | ❦

neteyam x fem!human!reader ➡︎ alternative ending / part two of the fic above! after months of being separated and ending on less than good terms, reader and neteyam are finally reunited.

this weight on my shoulders

she is mine + part two — ☹︎ | ♡ | ✧ | ♠︎

neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader ➡︎ reader is with lo’ak and the rest of the sully children when they get caught by quaritch and his team. can neteyam make it in time to save reader?

this time, let me take care of you — ✧ | ♡ | ❦

neteyam x fem!human!reader ➡︎ reader is not happy with neteyam continuously putting himself on the line for his younger brother. she tends to his wounds while trying her best to be understanding.

Blurbs:

none!

Canons:

neteyam & human!reader as besties! — ❦

Lo’ak

Imagines:

deja vu + part two — ☹︎ | ✧

lo’ak x fem!tawkami!reader ➡︎ instead of seeking refuge within the metkayina clan, jake and his family seek it in the tawkami clan. due to this, it causes detrimental loss to the tawkami people and the potential downfall of lo’ak and reader’s relationship.

closure — ☹︎

lo’ak x sibling!reader ➡︎ following the death of reader, lo’ak finally visits the metkayina spirit tree and begins his journey of healing after a well needed trip down memory lane.

i believe you — ✧ | ♡ | ☹︎ | ❦

lo’ak x fem!older sister!reader ➡︎ after receiving a scolding from his parents about payakan, lo’ak is nowhere to be found. but no worries, reader always finds her littler brother and makes him feel better.

take me with her + part two — ☹︎ | ❀ | ♢ | ✧ | ♡ | ♠︎

lo’ak x fem!human!reader ➡︎ reader is taken along with spider by quaritch and his team. will lo’ak be able to get back his love? or will the time apart and their differences tear what they had apart?

from me to you

Blurbs:

none!

Canons:

fem!navi!reader being lo’ak’s mother!

Kiri

Imagines:

feels like we buried alive something that never died

Blurbs:

none!

Canons:

none!

Tuk (strictly platonic/familial)

Imagines:

time has moved forward but you’re still the same

Blurbs:

none!

Canons:

none!

Ao’nung

Imagines:

forever + part two + part three + part four — ☹︎ | ♡ | ♢ | ✧

ao’nung x fem!sully!reader ➡︎ when lo’ak catches reader and ao’nung cuddled up together one night, he expresses his distaste towards their relationship and nearly ruins his relationship with his twin sister. will lo’ak and reader be able to make up or will this put a dent in their bond forever?

hard for — ♢ | ✧ | ♡

ao’nung x fem!sully!reader ➡︎ upon hearing a rumor about ao’nung one night when reader is out with tsireya and kiri, she confronts her boyfriend about his true intentions with her.

Blurbs:

none!

Canons:

sports i think the metkayina trio + spider would play (modern au!)

Jake Sully

Imagines:

a lesson in pinky promises — ☹︎ | ✧ | ♡ | ❦

jake sully x fem!daughter!reader ➡︎ being the eldest sully child isn’t easy and the other clan kids make sure you know of your “alien blood” nearly every day. what happens when, after a bad beating, jake finds reader crying and trying to bandage herself up?

soft heart

Blurbs:

none!

Canons:

none!

Neytiri

Imagines:

none!

Blurbs:

none!

Canons:

none!

Sully Family (familial/platonic)

Imagines:

can only hope — ☹︎

sully family x familial!reader ➡︎ instead of neteyam dying, it is reader who takes his place.

the sea gives & the sea takes — ☹︎

sully family x familial!reader ➡︎ it’s time for the sully family to say goodbye to their eldest child in respects of the metkayina way.

Blurbs:

none!

Canons:

sports i think the sully children would do (modern!au)

Spider Socorro

Imagines:

a kiss, perhaps — ♡

spider socorro x fem!human!reader ➡︎ reader has explored every inch of the forest she called home. well, nearly every inch. spider knows that she hasn’t visited this one spot yet and plans to take her there as a surprise.

stay away from her

Blurbs:

none!

Canons:

sports i think the metkayina trio + spider would play (modern au!)

Fic Recommendations! <3

ATWOW:

Neteyam

anything by @teyamsatan !! she’s literally such a good writer & her works hit every time istg. more specifically tho, her cardigan saga/series. that shit fucked me up but also healed me & made me giggle + kick my feet at the same time. worth the read 100%

Dad!Jake

anything & everything by @peacelovepandora . love their works!! (night hunters is the first fic i read of theirs & it holds a special place in my heart 🥹)

+ more to be added as i’m revamping my page!

#normspellsman talks! #normspellsman #normspellsman fic recs <3 #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #atwow imagines #avatar: the way of water #lo’ak sully x y/n #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam imagines #neteyam sully x reader #jake sully x daughter #jake sully x daughter!reader #ao’nung x you #ao’nung x sully!reader

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART I) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: your uncle can’t pay for his weed, joel finds another form of payment.

a note from Lucy: SHEEE'S BAAACK! im sorry but someone had to do it. I took it into my own hands. Hate myself...but I love this. When fleabag said ‘I am a bad feminist’>>>.

playlist | alternate banner by THE cherub @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

wc: 3377 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! no outbreak (but Sarah still dies sorry), no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, porn with little plot, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Joel is in his late 50s), Smut, dubcon, P in V sex (unprotected), Creampie, Cumplay, dom!Joel sub!reader dynamic, sex as payment for drugs, allusions to oral - m receiving, Fingering, ever so slight assplay, Choking, gagging (not on his d tho *sigh*), panty sniffing and stealing, Light Spanking, mentions of using drugs such as weed, alcohol consumption, Smoking, use of pet names (baby, cherub, angel, good girl...etc), Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, spitting, spit play. Some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile porn I have written thus far...with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

It was no delicate whisper, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt. 

He had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper.

He did not belong there.

He would not belong there. You’d not give him closure to live and breathe in intimate parts of your anatomy. The only place he would be from now on was between your legs. And maybe in your bed until the wee hours of the dry morning. 

That is where you would let him sit.

That is where he would stay. 

You hate him. You hate his face. You hate his voice. Hate his fucking temper. But worst of all— the cataclysmic catalyst in your small world of four bedroom walls—you hate how you don’t hate him at all. Not really. Your heart wouldn’t let you. It would break your own ribs clean in two to lurch from your flayed chest and into his palms. If only he’d open them. 

Joel Miller gnashed you between his teeth to let you splatter past his lips on the sun cracked dirt. He circled you like a wild cat. His pretty gazelle. Graceful, light on her feet. You felt the splintering distraction of him in the base of your skull. Dull and aching. Still there to rot into earth.

You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. 

Distraught with him, you contemplated desertion. Something akin to treason for his tyranny. Cowardice churning at your gut. The pleasure you would draw from the curling scowl of his coarse brows. The thin line you’d make of his lips and dark mist of hickory that would cloud his eye and better judgement. 

But then what? You soon learned  that if it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. Joel Miller was harrowing. 

Broken. Broken, broken, broken — Maimed, shattered, blistered to burst like waterlogged paint. He made you all, and nothing. Made you shrivel into your own shell at the phantom of his thought. Baring your teeth at the need to divulge in feeling deeper than satiation. 

—

You’d cycled back home, hair damp and lank with rare Austin rain. Slow circles of the pedals around a pivot, swerving gently from one side of the empty road to the other. Eyes ahead of you. It was like you were floating in a daze under the yellow saturation of the streetlamps. Past shabby housing estates back to the trailer park you called home. Tips from tonight tucked into the pocket of your apron, ready to be stored under the mattress in the moth bitten pillowcase. Ready to find your flight out of this town. 

You skidded to a halt in the pebble speckled dirt outside your trailer, brakes squealing in protest. Standing to lock up your bike to the railing by your uncles beat up, busted down truck. A heavy thunder cracked above, a swollen storm cloud rolling in to send the summer out on its departure with a bang. September was here. And the air smelled acidic with the promise of downpour. 

Glancing at the trailer next door, you came to realise your neighbour was in. Lights on, music rattling aluminium walls of his shabby home. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him as he caught your eye in his window. Watching, thumb swiping over his lower lip as he eyed you in your uniform. A stupid yellow dress and pinafore, scuffed mary janes, frilly white socks. Ketchup stains. Doe eyes glued to him, you saw a swallow pass down the thick column of his throat. His deep hickory eyes were dark black in this light, pupils blown to devour the colour.  

Before the heat licking up your cheeks could pull to your centre, you moved one foot in front of the other, crashing through the door. The TV was on, a barbaric film of screams drowned out the thunder outside, rattling in your ears. Jarring? No. The regular. Your uncle, ever the washed up cop out he was, was on his fifth beer, no doubt would send a nightcap of whiskey down his throat before lugging himself off to bed. The bottle hung limp in his drunken hand, loosely dangled over the armrest of the leather couch.

He did not spare you a glance. 

“I’m home.” You called out to him, waving out a hand in his direction. His sunken stoner eyes didn't drift from the box television in front of him. Merely garbled grunt, followed by a beer burp passed his lips. You sighed through your nose, teeth set on edge. “You had dinner?” 

Another grunt. One you took as ‘the fuck do you think?’

You sighed, “Okay, i’ll throw somethin’ in the oven, yeah?” This time he did not spare an answer. 

You took it as a blessing. Could have been worse. He could have struck you for being late, taking on overtime for Dee, the young mother who worked alongside you on friday evenings. You needed the money. Uncle Luke got laid off last month, turning up to the impound lot drunk, reeking of hard liquor and staggering around machinery. 

So you left it at that, disappeared to hide your money, counting out the bills into piles of ten. Just shy of ninety six dollars. All gathered and stuffed under your mattress. Next was dinner. Nothing much in the fridge, a box of frostbitten waffle fries, out of date in the back of the freezer. Or leftover pizza from the night before. Why not both. ‘Have a feast!’ you humoured yourself dryly. 

It was an hour or so later into the evening when your uncle finally spoke up, empty plate resting on his beer belly, another belch to punctuate the first words he said to you all evening.

“Do me a favour and drop by Joel's will ya, doll?” You sat up, looking at him from the lazyboy seat you perched in, feet kicking down from the coffee table. 

“Joel’s? Why?” He looked over to see your brow furrowed in question. 

“Usual dealer is outta town. Joel’s hookin’ me up with some in the meantime.” 

“Come on,” You sighed, tilting your head at him the way a parent would do with a child in pity, “I thought you were clean.”

“It’s just weed.” He snapped, voice gruff in his thick drawl, slurred. “Aint gonna fuckin’ kill me. But you might. Expensive brat.” 

The thought flickered across your mind to argue. Fight back. Tell him you were fighting tooth and nail for the rent due next month. But the bruise of his handprint and the simmering burn of his slap to your face the night before stopped your words dry in your throat. 

“Fine.” You sighed. 

And so, with heavy feet and a grudge in your tight chest, you ambled on over to the next door, knuckles rapping on his door three times quickly. 

Joel Miller opened the door with a puff of air out his nose, cigarette hanging loose from his lips. A barrel chested man in a tight wife beater and low slung dirty jeans, brow set in stone. The corner of his lip curled into a sneer of a smirk, taking no shame in the fact he was eyeing you head to toe. The devil down smirk. It made something disgusting tug at your insides, pool deeper in the thick of tension. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked in a drawl, crossing great oaks of arms over his chest. The neck of his tank let tease a smattering of salt and pepper hair over the top of his chest. Bristly, wiry. You ignored the urge to feel it catch in your nails. Do the same with the scruff, scant over his jaw. The same gradient. Just as coarse. 

“Um,” You eyes dropped from their ogling to the step your feet were planted on, head hung with them, “Uncle Luke said you had somethin’ for ‘im.” You mumbled after clearing your throat. 

“I do.” He nodded, pinching his cig between his thick thumb and forefinger, taking a drag and parting it with his lips. He squinted as he exhaled, the stench of the cigarette catching bitter in your nose. “He sent you over here to get it? A sweet lil’ thing like you.” 

You nodded hesitantly, still not daring to look at the man in front of you. Above you. He chuckled inwardly at your display of subservience, cock twitching behind the zipper and denim of his jeans. “Look’t ya.” He mused, tossing his dying cigarette onto the gravel, hooking his tobacco stained fingers under your chin to lift it. While your head tilted up at his touch, your eyes strained to stay on the floor. He watched as the stretch of your neck struggled to accommodate a nervous swallow, skin rippling deliciously under his hold. “Lil’ angel aint ya?” He thumbed your head to the side, eyes relishing in the sight of more skin, the wash of yellow light over your profile. “A Cherub.”  Cherub. That’s what he named you. His little Cherub who was defiled and taken in a heated, frantic assembly of limbs. Pulled to fire at hell's mouth. Joel Miller's mouth.

Still you looked down. “Look at me, Cherub.” And with a heavy sigh you did. That was what was so easy about Joel. It took nothing to obey. Nothing to give in and keel over at his side. “That's better.” He mumbled under his breath, watching the rise of your chest. You could feel the pert tips of your breasts pebble at the meeting of his eyes, mixed with his touch. How delicate it was now. How deranged it would be later. “Come on in…Cherub.” He practically crooned the pet name, stepping aside. 

You passed the threshold, a mistake for the best and words parts of you. Because stepping across that line was the damning event in your experience of Joel Miller. Pandora’s box had been opened, left to decay in the woods somewhere as evil poured guilt free from it.

He rummaged around for a second, pulling a clear plastic ziplock bag from a duffel in the corner, dangling it in front of your face. A dirt green, clustered in form. You reached to take it, but he snatched it back with a cruel smile, making the walls of your stomach curl in dread, jaw clamp shut. 

“Luke’s gotta pay up, first. He give you money for me?” You shook your head. His eyes clouded darker.  “No?” He raised an amused brow, “How you gonna pay for it, Cherub?” 

You're stumped. “I– I…” Your voice died in your throat. But Joel can seemingly peer inside you to your own mind, part it like a page of a book or your own legs. 

“I don’t want your money, baby.” 

“Woulda been mine, anyway.” You sigh. And he narrows his eyes at you, tutting in disappointment. 

“I can think ’f one thing that’ll make it up to me.”

And that's how you ended up here. His thick, intruding fingers hooking into your mouth, unhinging your jaw as he speared you on his cock. Everything about him was larger than life. Even the way he breathed was domineering. Fucking you with flared nostrils that gave way to a billowing a breath. The other hand at your neck, revelling at the feeling of your pulse hammering under his splayed palm. Worming your way though cracks in his thick ribs while took you.

He had folded you in half, pressed the knobbles of your knees up to the sides of your head as tears ran thick, hot and slow down your temples. He made it hurt. But you loved it. Needed him to evaporate into air so you inhale him. Devour him. 

He grunted, watching in furrowed brow amusement while his thumb pressed into the soft flesh under your jaw, middle and forefinger coated in your slick form earlier and now your own saliva. 

It was a primal image. One some may find disgusting. To see him bent over you and ravaging your cunt raw. Bleeding you dry of a semblance of sanity. It was so easy when the tip of his hot, angry cock nipped at the mouth of your cervix with vigour like that. His hand is at your throat, pressing a purple bruise into your flesh over the old one made by another man. For you to marvel at later when he once again staggers from bed to refresh himself with a cool beer, clutching the ache that curled at the base of his spine. 

In his eyes, you needed a big god. A man to keep you to yourself. Never have you stray. Ground you with the slamming of his pelvis into your hips. Legs parted for him to eye the very core of you. The seam he would part with two fingers, hot, needly, wet for him. Aching and pinching and shuddering around his digits, tongue, dick. Letting him invade you like the good girl he told you you were, crooning into your ear with hot damp breaths. 

Joel dredged up an ache of humanity in you that felt numb so long before. Lay dormant in the chasm of your stomach. Swallowed like a peach pit to choke on later. After the sin had dried like the sweat on your skin.

“Fucking easy, ain’t ya, Cherub.” He would say as he penetrated your walls, invaded your mouth with his fingers. His lips draw open mouthed, wet kisses to the delicate column of your throat, down the bone between your breasts. Then he leans back, watching intently as his hips slow to grind, dragging the slick of your walls to drench the base of his cock. Ready for you to take down your throat later if he wished to meld you into that position. A hand let free the grip on your throat, instead watched with fascination as he slapped your tit, took the swell of it in his palm, cupping it, tugging at your pearled nipple. “Gonna take all of it for me, Cherub.” 

You garbled out a yes, a cry of submission to him. Before, Joel never felt the acidic aftertaste of guilt for being selfish. Since he lost Sarah, he took it upon himself to have what he wanted and when he wanted it, without a damn for the rest of humanity.

The only time he felt a shred of remorse was when he stole you; Hid you away from the warm, nurturing touch of others' more loving, less brutal hands. But you were his Cherub. All that was pretty a beautiful and to be desired in the world.

With his lip between his teeth, his thumb swiped tight circles over your swollen clit, slick aiding him in the fluidity of his strokes, heavy balls drizzled in your arousal as they slap wetly against your ass. A nod and his fingers slip further into your mouth, opening your jaw wider to peer inside. A glob of his spit drooled past his lips, splattering thick and warm upon your clit. It slid down to your entrance, where he punctures moans out of you, shaft stretching you, fucking you out, and thrusting with the intent to break you. You can feel the curve of it, the vein that runs steady on the underside of it. Heavy, full. You remember the slap it sounded out when you reached to pull it free. Before he parted your legs wide and sheathed himself in your pussy with one swift wane of his hips.

Joel smiles when you sob and break down for him, pull back a layer for him to slip into you. The walls of you drag him down into a grounding. A centre of a universe. Gravity strong enough to implode, create dark matter, compress tightly into a black hole. The centre of his universe. 

“Does my baby want it?” He crooned, and you yelped a yes, strangled by his being. The scent of him clinging to you, your sex. It gnarled at your skin. Scratched marks into flesh. “Does she want to come for me?” 

You didn't have to nod, he made you with his grip on your jaw. It was going to be your answer anyway. “Want you to say it for me too, Cherub.” 

“Yea, Joel!” You yelp, voice shrill, and cracked like the callus on the heel of his hand. “Yes!” 

He grins, wicked and wrapped with the inter to tear you apart from the inside with the jackhammering of his cock inside you, The delicious, toe curling numbness of it inside you. 

“Come on, Cherub, sing f’me.” 

“Yes-” It's a shriek, a quick, frenzied shriek. One that filled the hollow of your chest and then deflated it. “Yes! Please, please, please- Please!” 

Your begging melts in his ears, the sight of eyes rolled back, mouth open for him. And he needs to feel, reaching between where the two of you join with your own hand. The base of his cock now between your middle and ring fingers, his length swiping your fingers in combined precum and slick as he bucks his hips violently. The headboard shakes and trembles beneath his frantic movement. And he presses the heel of your hand into your clit, having you seeing stars. Crying to the heavens you fell from. 

His little Cherub. Plush skin and plump curves for his teeth to sink into and mark his territory. Whenever he may please now. 

“Come.” 

And you do, screaming his name to him as a numb weight fills the pit of your core, has your pussy pulsing in waves, ebbs and flows. It sucks him deeper, a lew squelch gaining his attention when his lower abdomen and balls tighten. He lets out a strangled groan, filling you with one final push upon your cervix. 

It has you gasping for air, chest heaving when he looks down between you, the white sticky ooze of his come seeping from your walls, softening cock still sheathed inside of you. Not ready to pull from the warmth your cunt hugs him with. 

“That’s it, angel, down you come.” He coos, before sifting his hips, leaving you to whine as your gaping hole fluttered furiously around nothing.  

He stands, pulls his jeans on, fly still undone, belt buckle loose and clinking at his sides. He swipes your underwear from the scattering of your clothes over the musty carpet, bringing it to his nose to inhale. “Part of the payment.” He mumbles, not that you’re listening, mind still swimming in its pool of oxytocin. And he slips the lace into his jean pocket, baby pink peeking out from denim. 

“Better get back, Cherub.” Joel said plainly, fingers dancing over your used hole, as cum dribbles gluttonously from it, down your crack to your puckered asshole. He thumbs it gently and you squeal, squirming away. His hand clamps down upon your thigh, dragging you back down the mattress to his unyielding touch. 

“Don’t be ungrateful now.” He growls, collecting the creamy spend with two fingers, scooping it back inside you. Your body jolts from the intrusion, but gathers itself again and desire swims low in the swell of your belly. “Want it all in ya’. Fillin’ you nice and good for me, Cherub. There we are, that’s it.” He smiles, eyes unmoving from your cunt as his fingers disappear inside and stretch it out, scissoring you to overstimulation. “Maybe one day i’ll get to use this one too…” And you feel his thumb once more at your butt, adding the smallest tease of pressure.

Joel pulled back, clapping a hand down on the plush, malleable skin of your thigh. 

“Up ‘n out, Cherub, ‘fore your uncle gets suspicious.” 

You know Uncle Luke won’t know any different. He’s passed out on the sofa when you get in, legs trembling with an ache weighing the marrow of your bones. You shut the door with your back and a shaking huff, tossing the weed onto the coffee table, retiring to your room, sobbing to nothing and no one but your grimy pillow, licking your wounds like the wounded bitch you had now become.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel tlou #lu’s little bookshelf #joel the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #dealer!joel

[apieceofmi]

STRANGERS… or not

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: a stranger in a train that captive her heart, never seen him again… but his face was familiar, maybe that was more than just a connection, maybe she already saw him somewhere. A lot of research and… oh, yeah, she really sees his face before, her and millions of people… it's just sad that he seems so untouchable. Right?

Author’s note: Okay, so part 2 was unexpected, but It's here!! And now I have a few more ideas for this same couple and context… I think there are more coming. Anyway, hope you like it! xx

Part One (You don't have to necessarily read the first part to understand this one, it's up to you)

__________________________________________________________

Just when I thought that my chances are over, I found him. The stranger I’ve met in a train coming back from my hometown months ago, talked for hours and I left without knowing his name.

I took the same train and visit my parents more times than is good for my mental health, I sat there and wait for him, but got nothing. Then I searched in social media, everywhere I could think of, but it is so difficult to search for something - someone in this case - that you know nothing about. I have an image in my mind, the sound of a laugh, and nothing more. We shared so much that day, but as the days passed it seemed like nothing. Then, when I gave up and convinced myself that I was making it bigger than it should have been, when I accepted that it had become just a great memory, exactly how I wanted it, I found him.

Screaming in my phone, I'm not the only one that think he's a cool guy. I feel kind of stupid when I realize that he's not just an ordinary person, and that's probably why I thought I already knew him that day on the train.

Not a surprise, just me romanticizing my life again.

And maybe that is the reason why I'm doing it again, because I swear that I feel something more around this - him. In my delusion mind, you don't meet someone by chance. You don't screw up the chance you have to really know someone when you feel a special connection with them. Not like I did. Maybe that's the reason that I feel the necessity to just see him again. I don't know what I expect of this, and maybe I should just let it go, but I have friends that are delusional like me, and they support me with this crazy feeling… So, yeah, I listened to all of his band's albums and came to a show - just because it was in my city. It's not like I fight for tickets when I found out that they would be here. Not at all. 

Everything was good, and I was already feeling that coming to the show was the closure that I need to this history when my friend Anna, that came with me, grab my hand while we're exiting the venue.

“Let's wait outside. I know some fans do it, sometimes they stop to take pictures and talk to them.”

I get nervous immediately. I've already seen him, discovered who he is and for me that's enough, I don't have the courage to be in front of him again. I don't want him to think that I'm stalking him and make this role thing uncomfortable. It was supposed to be something nice, just it. Actually, it was just supposed to be a memory. Everything that happened after I left that day shouldn't have happened, I didn't say my name because I didn't want anything to happen. I'm going further than I should, I'm exceeding the limit I drew for myself. It's more than enough.

“No! We can't wait for them!” I protest, thinking in an excuse when Anna looks at me, her eyes narrow, knowing me well enough. “I have to work in the morning.”

“You can miss one rehearsal.”

“I have class tomorrow. I can't miss it, I'm the teacher.” I say, but Anna doesn't take me serious, she knows that I'm having a meltdown right now. “What if they don't even came out? We’re just going to lose time waiting here.”

Squeezing my hand, she smiles at me.

“Then at least you tried.”

So we wait, talk with some people that are waiting there too and it's cool. It's nice. But I can't stop feeling that I'm doing something wrong being here. I don't know, betraying the universe, maybe? I made my choice that day and just because I regret it now, can I just switch sides? 

Uh, no, I don't think so. 

Maybe it's supposed to be just like it was, some nice exchange in the train between strangers. Maybe it supposed for me not saying my name.

I'm almost given up and going home when I see them coming in our direction. Anna has a big smile in her face, her eyes shinning, and I almost can hear her saying - he's here! He's here! - but I just look at her and then at him approaching the others, and I freeze, taking a step back. 

There's another member of the band with him - with I know now that his name is Nicholas - and they start to talking with the little crowed waiting for them. I stay in the corner with Anna, without a clue to how to start this interaction without being a weirdo.

I'm still considering running out of here when his eyes catch me one time. Two times. A little frowning in his face in the third time. What if he doesn't remember me? 

“I know you” he says, his eyes studying mine, coming closer.

“We met at…” But I don't need to finish when his faces changes. He recognizes me. 

“Yes, I remember” he smiles. “You found me.”

I let out a small nervous breath, forcing it into a weak smile.

“It took long enough, but yes. I did found you.”

There’s a grin that won't leave his lips, and I cannot stop staring at it. 

“What's your name?” Yeah, here's the million dollars question.

I finally tell him my name, answering the question I should have answered months ago when I had the opportunity, then had to beg the universe for another chance.

“Well, I’m Noah” he says next.

“Nice to meet you.” I chuckled nervously.

I already know his name, but him saying it to me feels more legit. I think I can finally stop referring to this man in my mind as him or the stranger.

He finally has a name.

“You liked the show?” Noah asks.

“Yes! It was so great!” I rejoiced. “You guys are so talented! I was shocked when I was listening the albums, I'm just… I became a fan.”

The smile in Noah’s lips grows and the shy look in his eyes makes strange things happen in my stomach. I really hope that's not butterflies. It's like something frozen at the moment, at the same time suddenly I'm well aware of the people still around us, hoping for a little more time with the members of the band they came to see. 

Noah gives me a little embrace, catching me off guard when I hear his voice so close.

“You found me, now it's my time” he whispers in my ear.

“I follow you” I replied, the words coming out my mouth like it's an urgency. 

“Great.” he says, stepping back and giving attention to the person next to us.

I look around for Anna, who I didn't even see leaving, she's back at my side in a second.

“How it was?” she asks as we leave. 

“He said he's going to find me” I chuckle. “ I think on social media? I don't know.”

“It would be suspicious if he asked for your number in front of everyone.” She considers. “Or even invite you for, I don't know… their bus” Anna makes a funny face, giving me a side look. “I wouldn’t let you leave with him like that anyway, he’s cute and talented, but he’s still a man.”

I laugh, loving her a little more for taking care of me.

“I wouldn’t abandon you like that.” I say. “Thank you for coming with me.”

"Of course. As if I would miss the chance to help my best friend meet her train crush, who happened to be a fucking rock star." She rolls her eyes, getting into the car.

“It don't even make sense.” I let out a disbelief laugh. “Did you see how many people were there today? This is like impossible, he's famous, a celebrity, I'm not the kind of person…”

“Stop it right now.” She interrupts me. “He's a person just like you are. Yes, he's talented and is in a band that obviously is getting bigger every second, but it doesn't mean anything. He's human. You're human. It's all we need.”

“You're right, I'm thinking too much again.” I say, starting the car. “At least I tried.”

I'm already home getting ready to sleep when a notification came on my phone. A message on Instagram from an account with a peculiar profile pic. I don't make a ceremony and open it right away.

“I can't believe that I spend two hours talking with you that day and don't ask your name first thing!” 

“I swear, I'm not like this in normal situations”

“You got me nervous”

I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop myself from smiling.

“I'm sorry for not saying my name when you asked. I regret it every day since I left.” 

“Two fools”

“How did you found me? I tried to look for you but get nothing”

“Well, I'm not as popular as you”

“A video of the band randomly appeared on my timeline, I think I talked about the guy on the train so much to my friends that the algorithm took pity on me and threw it in my face.”

“For once social media did something right”

“So… You're going to stay in town or…?”

“No. We already left”

“I didn't want to expose you out there earlier, but if you get me your number, I can let you know when I'm around?”

“I'll understand if you don't want to, my life can be a little crazy sometimes.”

There's no hesitation in my answer.

“I really want to know better the guy that I met on the train three months ago and can't stop wondering about, so… Yes, If that's okay for you.”

“Great. I've searched for you in every city that we go to since that day, can't wait to properly get to know you too, stranger.”

So I sent my number.

And God, I should have known I was in trouble the moment I got that first message from him. As the days went by, I realized that I was crazy to think that Noah was untouchable just because of what he does for a living, he has become the funniest and sweetest person I know.

We're definitely not strangers anymore.

Not when we talk every day now.

Not when I learned all his favorites.

Not when I’m counting days to see Noah in person again.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens x reader #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fluff

[hearts401]

I honestly hate how the fandom treats Michael as a hero and I'm seeing posts about it so I feel a liiiittle better talkign about it

my moots are holding back, i can tell. but hes my favorite so im not. and im a little pissed writing this bc. bc i relate to cc a lot. and seeing ppl mischaracterize not only my favorite character but also someone who reminds me of people who fucking suck drives me INSANE.

so psa, im pissed as fuck and i love michael afton.

First off, he killed Evan. That's obvious. Not only was that literall 100% his fault (NOT WILLIAMS IT PISSES ME OFF WHEN PPL MAKE THAT ALL ABOUT WILLIAM SHUT THE FUVCK UP

he was a bully. yeah he was a kid. yeah he was messing with him. Have you considered he was literally. abusive to his brother. i know the fnaf fandom is scared of using that word to describe him but its fucking true. he was abusive. as fuck. that was awful what he did he wasnt just a bully he harassed him and literally locked him in his room. he was fucking horrible.

and yeah, he didnt mean for that to happen, but not only was that stupid as fuck, i hate any interpritation of "he wanted to be like his dad" "his friends coerced him" PLAY FNAF 4. PLAY FNAF 4. FUCKING PLAY FNAF 4 LOOK AT HIS DIALOGUE AND WHAT HE DOES

HE LITERALLY. EGGED IT ON. IT WAS HIS FUCKING IDEA. WHAT PART OF THAT GAVE "he was coerced" THUSHFUDFUDSIOFDUSOFDSIOS

im trying to be normal

Yeah he probably felt like shit after. yeah it probably was some sort of motivator behind his actions. but lets think. lets think.

fnaf 1 and 2 take place before SL, no? So. if thats true. why didnt he burn those down? to "free the souls?" because it was never about the children.

he burned down the fnaf 3 location to get rid of william. it was ALWAYS abotu william. sure he set the kids free but i reeeeaaallyy dont think that was his intention. it was always about william.

in sister location, did he go there out of the kindness of his heart? no he went there because william asked him too. it was ALWAYS about william. and yeah he probably wanted to help liz, he probably really wanted to help her, but based on his actions, was this really for her? or was it for closure

thats something about michael that i put in shitty brother. closure. he didnt actually want to reconcile with his family, he wanted closure on the guilt he felt. is that 100% wrong? no. its normal to want closure, especially after something like that. but also that should not be his goal

did he apologize? yes. he said sorry. he felt bad, sure. but when you kill someone tehy dont come back. evan deserves to never forgive him ever because that was dumb as fuck and HORRIBLE. IT WAS HORRIBLE. ABUSIVE. ILL SAY IT AGAIN

MICHAEL AFTON ABUSED HIS LITTLE BROTHER FOR NO FUCKING REASON.

yeah. abused. say it with me. A-B-U-S-E-D

not just bullied, not just harassed, ABUSED.

ik we're all scared to say it here but its fucking true. say it with ur chest.

this always came back to william. do i thinkk michael is unfeeling and doesnt care about his siblings at all? NO! I think his siblings drove a lot of his actions. but in the end i dont think he always acted with their best interest at heart. or the mci kids'

and the whole "he wanted to be like his dad" i dont fucking care actually. no seriously sit down beside me and tell me that wanting to be like his dad is an excuse for abusing his brother. seriously come closer i wont bite.

tell me how you think that AS A TEENAGER, 100% AWARE OF HIS ACTIONS, that wanting to be like his dad justifies abusing his little brother. his little brother. who as far as we know, never lashed out, never fought back, never did anything to him. tell me how he fucking deserved that

"Michael was just a kid!" so was Evan. So was Elizabeth. So was Cassidy and Charlie and all the kids who died.

tell me how much michael did that didnt revolve around closure and his father. like i get it, he had priorities, but can we please stop acting like he's some angel working for the greater good of everyone.

it feelslike how ppl treat fucking henry. NO HES NOT A GOOD PERSON PLEASE

MICHAEL IS SELFISH HE'S MESSY HE'S STUPID. HE MAKES BAD CHOICES IN FAVOR OF HIMSELF HE PRIORITIZES REVENGE OVER THE GREATER GOOD HE HURTS PEOPLE AND IT MAKES HIM SO MUHC MORE INTERESTING

oh and also in case anybody wants to pull dittophobia out and tell me how mike went thru that trauma

so did evan. and instead of bonding over that trauma, michael harassed him. ABUSED HIM. wording is important. im sorry for repeating myself so much, but nobody ever tells it how it is. it was abuse.

edit: People seem upset by my wording and honestly? fair. i couldve worded this a lot better but i was tired and irritated and one thing i will clarify

i dont care if u dont see adult michael the way i do. i see him as a selfish obsessive guy whos intent is to fix his family, but plenty of people see it differently and thats okay! /gen

but im not taking back anythign i said about teen michael. because i think to do that is unfair to his character and frankly bullshit. i think its bullshit. and i dont care if you disagree. he was a terrible brother and thats that

but adult mike is free real estate idk idrc abt him as much as teen mike.

#tzu rambles #fnaf #michael afton #fnaf 4 #not tagging discourse bc i dont think this is discourse lol. just my thoughts

[laurey257]

GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 FIX-IT RECS UPDATED LIST (6 weeks out!)

Hello all! I am stunned by how much you all liked my first list of Good Omens Season Two fix-it recommendations on Archive of our Own! Thanks for sharing. Now that we’re 6 weeks out instead of two, there’s lots more good stuff on there and I thought I would post this new and expanded list for you? I broke it into categories, doubled it, and found lots more wonderful stuff to read.

**This was a hard decision but I am excluding works in progress since they need time to mature—all these are complete /compliant and can be invested in without fear.**

FULL SEASON 3 WORKS

To the Universe

22 chapters and I cannot say enough good things. It’s amazing closure and feels SO good to read. Writing style in this one is very compelling and keeps you on your seat until the end.

Somewhere Only We Know

A stunning 40 chapters for anyone who wants to just burrow down in this universe and never leave it. The angel and demon go separate ways only to reunite to (yet again) save Earth one more time.

Daily Report

This is written REALLY well. 6 chapters manages to bring about a really nice arc to reconciliation post Season 2! I was impressed.

MULTI-CHAPTER FIX-IT WORKS

Wouldn't It Have Been Nice?

Crowley is called to Heaven by a dying Angel. Jesus intervenes. Will break your heart, but it has a happy ending.

I Do Love Nothing in the World So Much as You

Soooo nice. 3 chapters bringing them straight through it as Aziraphale comes back and tries to beg forgiveness. NICE arc in this one. Believable.

Oh Simple Thing, Where have you Gone

This one says 7 of ? chapters, but I included it because I like the premise and what is there feels sort of complete? An interesting fixit where the Metatron has devious plans and locks up Crowley as part of that. The Bentley has a starring role in here during several heroic rescue plans.

Something Wrong

Ooooo! A NICE twist in this one. I won't reveal it, but this fic is based on some of the most compelling theories around why Aziraphale might not have been totally consenting when Metatron takes him away.

Jesus, Etc.

Crowley runs into a frantic Aziraphale with Jesus in tow at a Barbenheimer premiere. A battle of the wills with pop songs in the Bentley, Taylor Swift, Kenergy, sushi, a nativity play and a magic show come next.

ONE SHOTS (SMUTTY)

The Second Coming

The Second Coming - Episode6killedme - Good Omens (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Aziraphale “awakens” in the elevator (think ox ribs but sexually) and yeets himself back to earth to roger Crowley six ways from Sunday.

A Middle Ground

Aziraphale and Crowley have been separated, but the Angel won't let go. He kidnaps Crowley to a cloudscape and pleads his case. A Bridget-Jones like WWF bickering throwdown ensures. The part featuring reactions on the part of 737 Ryanair passengers and one airline attendant had me wheezing.

Just Called to Say Fuck You I Love You

This one is just spicy as hell, y'all. Aziraphale picks up on Crowley prayers while in Heaven, and let's just say that he's doing some ACTIVE praying.

Not for all my Little Words

Not for All My Little Words - mia_ugly, soft_october - Good Omens (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

An adorable one where Aziraphale, realizing he screwed up, chases Crowley through loudspeakers and other people’s phones through Europe using famous love quotes until he gets his attention (and some forgiveness.) Smut ensues.

ONE SHOTS (LITTLE/NO SMUT)

Darling, Can you Ever Forgive Me?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48966298

A daydream, leading to Aziraphale doing the right thing and heading back to Earth to declare his love.

Cause you like me too much and I like you

'Cause You Like Me Too Much and I Like You - alastor_holmes - Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett [Archive of Our Own]

A sweet little one where Aziraphale quietly resigns, has a chat with Gabriel and Beez in the bookshop, and does the apology dance.

Everywhere

everywhere - vivahate - Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett [Archive of Our Own]

Azi Crowley instead from a Heavenly asassination attempt. (Maggie, nina and anathema help!)

Heaven is Not Fit to House a Love

heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and i) - Zaexx - Good Omens (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

A sweet little one with a *small* deviation from canon (that seemed ok because they have a good point.) Crowley had never told Aziraphale about the way the angels managed his trial OR about what he saw in the Heavenly files with Muriel. He jams his way into the elevator (telling the Metatron to get the next one) and tells him.

Magician's Choice

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49066831

Oooooo I like this one. Four ways that the ending could have gone instead, based on four magic methods of sleight of hand. So cool!

A Proper Apology

A Proper Apology - cyankelpie - Good Omens (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

One where the Angel simply calls over and over until they really talk. (Or imagine the idiots simply just used the phone.)

The Nightingales Were Just Sleeping In

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49041145

Cute, adorable, small...just a retelling of the final scene where they really TALK and don't just be idiots.

This is Not an Apology

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48992128

Aziraphale comes to Crowley while he tries to sleep it all off and they actually talk, for once.

Time to Turn it Right

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49162285

Azi tries to fix things. Crowley gets a cat.

We Don't Need Heaven

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49598467

They talk again, this time on the beach, and for real.

#good omens 2 #good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #aziracrow #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable lovers #good ineffable omens #ineffable fandom #ineffable idiots #ineffable divorce #good omemes #good omens season three #good omens season 2 fix-it #go2 #a03 fic #fic rec #good omens fanfiction #good omens fix it

[solselah]

C H A N N E L E D ✨MESSAGE ✨ F R O M

Y O U R ✨P E R S O N

PILE 1 : I’ve been so busy hustling , I have been so focused on money and how it’s flowing in my life ! Truly gaining a key to my abundance !! I don’t want you to feel like I am unfazed by us or this connection ! I am very into you & everything that you bring to the table, I want you to know that you’re such good vibes and you truly lift me up when im on my last leg !! I appreciate you more than I can express so pardon me if im not able to connect emotionally to you like I really want to! in the past I’ve been stabbed in the back by those who claim to love me so it is / and was hard For me to do that with you because In retrospect I couldn’t trust if this was real or not ! This form of “separation” between us is very unbearable and what I would consider to be unnecessary. If this isn’t made to work out I really do pray and put out in the universe that you move on with full closure and end up happy ! Sorry that it wasn’t me for you to settle with.

you never know what the universe has planned but for now SO LONG ✌🏾☮️

———————————————————————

PILE 2 : I just want to let you know that you put butterfly’s in my stomach , I haven’t felt this way or that way in the longest time !! I’ve been trying to Dodge certain bullets relationship wise but you make me nervous and bring me so much nostalgia !! It’s like one day my lights are out and the next you come to light it up ! I want to meet and see the real you , I want to connect with you on a soul level.

I already feel this energy that I’ve never felt with someone I just know you are for me & even when I try to deny it I can’t believe How accurately and purely I can love someone ! You are for me and I can’t talk that down. I want this connection to evolve , I want us to heal from whatever tore us apart ! I want you to be able to receive the energy you need & the vibes you look for ! I hope you can understand how much pain I’ve been in

as far as heartbreak goes. I would have never thought that I would love a human being like I love you or even perceiving one like this ! If I lost you all would feel LOST spiritually ! I would even call out to you for your help to assist me if I lose this feeling. Remember me even when things are dark, for us! Hear me when you can because I spiritually speak to you & feel you ! We may not be healthy for each other now but i Foresee us being unstoppable ! You feel so much like my counterpart ! Am I Going crazy ?

———————————————————————

PILE 3 : I don’t want to apologize I don’t want you to see that part of me that is vulnerable to say that I am wrong !! My ego needs fixing and I know that it turns you off from me ! I wish I can be better for you but something is stopping me ! I wish you can use your magical energy to save me ! But I know the burden it would be on you ! And I look for you to heal me and part of myself that I thought would always be trapped. Your sexual energy turns me on & it spiritually energizes me !!! I don’t know what type of entity you are but you feel like a mermaid I just can’t escape you , your energy is flawless to me & I just hope that there isn’t any faking with us ! I don’t have all the money in the world dispite what you see online or in person ! But I don’t know what really makes you happy Shit I don’t even know what makes me happy ! I feel like our relationship was ruined and Interrupted by those who don’t want to see us together ! I feel like you don’t see the best in me & that’s all I see in you ! You’re not for me because you don’t tell me how much I mean to you , Then again I don’t either and I can blame myself for being emotionally stand off ish towards you. Damn I wish I can turn the tables you are IT !! I just wish I treated you better baby girl / baby boy ! No one could ever understand our bond. Is it really to late !? I feel like I’m missing out . It’s Like you won a Grammy and I wasn’t even invited ! I enjoy watching you win but man do I wish I was right there beside you ! Maybe one day ?

———————————————————————

PILE 4 : Our time together is over !! And as much as I feel like we deserve all the time in the world to figure our shit out , Saturn has other plans. we have agreed to spiritual contracts that Separate us in a timely fashion ! And something in me just wants to go against that !! Although I did put you in a love triangle we were able to talk about it but it felt like you didn’t truly forgive me and that scares me because I know you don’t view me the same anymore & it really recks my heart & Brain! I am so hurt and heartbroken I’ve never really fully felt this feeling but always heard that I caused this feeling I guess karma comes back around fairly quickly !!! I fucked up and offered you a relationship while I was still doing dirty shit ! I apologize but I don’t believe this would aid in putting us on the same page but it’s all love & respectfully there is always other options!

Ps : They are all Lies & with them, you have to ready between the lines.

———————————————————————

PILE 5 : I know you may feel like I used you or wanted you for other material things but you don’t see my heart , At least you don’t how it thought you did ! I can admit I was with you for beneficial purposes & I didn’t see my wrongs until now. So forgive me for being weird or for being Rude, I just don’t understand how I fumbled you ! Or did I 👀 , is there a chance for me to salvage or revive our feelings for each other , yo I am literally haunted by your energy everywhere I turn I want you , I want to feel you , I want to know your safe , it bothers me bad ! It interrupts my daily activities I don’t know how to Get over this ! This form of detachment between us is KILLING ME !! Help me & reach out if you would like of course ! I would never lie to you ! (Or will I ?)

Ps : (Manipulative but hard to resist )

———————————————————————

IG: @Soleccentric

Hope you Enjoy ✨

#pick a picture #pick a card #intution #spirituality #tarot #tarot reading #pick a pile #love #connection

[starbylers]

Can we talk about how Mike ‘not being able to say he loves El because he’s scared she won’t need him one day’ makes no sense when you consider that for Mike this conflict spans two whole seasons, and there needs to be a consistent character motivation throughout.

Mike struggling to tell El he loves her has been, on the surface, his main conflict since s3.

In season 3, after blurting out he loves El, Mike brings it up again at the store. He tries desperately to get his point across, to make El understand ('I've never felt like this before', 'blank makes you crazy, like the word'). But no-one can deny that in this scene Mike is doing everything he can to avoid actually saying love. Now, what is the Mlvn excuse for this again? 'He's not good at expressing his emotions’. That's their running narrative post s3. (Let's ignore how that's not even canonically true of Mike's character and continue).

We come to season 4, and Mike is still chronically unable to use the word love, even when speaking about El and not to her. (Like this is clearly a deeply ingrained thing but I digress). Pre vol. 2, the Mlvn excuses are still related to Mike basically being emotionally unintelligent (his parents, his age, blah blah). But when Mike himself finally reveals the big reason, it's...'I didn't want to tell you I loved you because I was scared you won't need me one day'? Okay. Theoretically, out of context, that could make sense. So this becomes the new Mlvn narrative.

Here's the problem: both of these things cannot be the root cause of the same issue. It's one or the other: either he can’t say he loves her because he’s bad at expressing feelings, or he’s scared El one day not needing him would hurt more. This two-season dilemma is part of one series-long character arc for Mike. Mike in s4 is the same person with the same struggles as Mike in s3. Whatever his motivation for avoiding it in s3 (which was never addressed, it’s not like we got closure for that and then they just came up with a new reason he can’t say it) must logically be consistent continuing into s4.

Can anyone seriously tell me that Mike, here in this scene, was struggling to say the word 'love' because he was 'scared one day El wouldn't need him':

No. Of course not. He was specifically avoiding the word, and the most plausible explanation for his aversion (if we're ignoring Byler) is that Mike's just a kid and love is a big scary word. Bad at emotions etc. Which is why Mlvns and GA subscribed to that narrative, it seems obvious. But it cannot be right because Mike reveals the 'true reason' in 4x09. This is the canon explanation, finally—he's been scared she eventually won't need him. Except, that cannot be right either, because that reasoning does not align with his obvious (again, ignoring Byler) s3 motivation (love being daunting for a young teen) for the exact same behaviour. Like he literally uses the exact same pattern of avoidant wording from s3 in s4 (‘I care for you so much') and like I’ve said this is all meant to be one singular, overarching conflict.

If the initial 'bad at feelings' reading of Mike was correct, you'd expect the monologue to be more along the lines of 'I find it really difficult to express myself but I do truly love you, so this is me being vulnerable and brave'. Personally, I would've somewhat bought that. As a Byler I would've been like okay, it's kind of boring cliché storytelling but I'll admit defeat. But that’s not what happens. Basically what I’m getting at is:

Neither of these explanations can account for Mike’s inability to tell El he loves her in both seasons, so then by the logic of Mike having consistent motivations, neither can be true.

Which leads to the conclusion that there must be a different, all-encompassing, underlying cause for his heavy avoidance. Something that connects all the dots. I wonder what that could possibly be.

#byler #anti mileven #also I do believe that Mike is scared of El not needing him #but his reason for this fear is rooted in unhealthy codependency and his insecurities not because he’s just so in love