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#which is the way relationships should work in fiction! not just have them for the sake of having them!
lloydfrontera · 1 year
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tfw when you write an entire novel with two protagonists that spent the entire plot getting closer to each other, becoming best friends and eventually both of them deciding they would rather die than allow the other to not live a long, fulfilling life, their friendship carrying most of the emotional weight of the entire plot and the emotional climax being one of them sacrificing his life so the other can live and then the other crossing literal universes to find him, a tearful smile in his face as he confesses how much he missed him. which is the scene you wanted to write and show the most because, again, this is the pay off to the slowburn you've been writing in the entire novel and what everything has been building up to since the very first chapter. and then you end the novel by having them share a smile, finally confident they'll be able to have a happy future.
but you also just gotta have one of them marry offscreen because everyone knows you can't be happy if you're not in a het marriage with kids lmao it's whatever it's okay i'm fiNE-
#i talk a lot <3#the greatest estate developer#lloyd frontera#this post was going to be so much more bitter this is me being nice akjshdkahdk#i just....... i'm sad alsjdsjkal#and i don't think i'm wrong to be. like i'm not disapointed bc i don't actually expected lloyd and javier to be together#i'm not that optimistic lmao#but i did have the hope tged would have no romance#because lloyd and javier were already doing so much in the emotional and relationship development front of the plot#that adding romance just feels. awkward. like an aside. an add-on that affects none of the plot and is just there to make sure#no one accidentally gets confused and think those two are in love#and guess what! most of the romance does happen in literal side stories! literally an add-on that does nothing for the plot! i hate it!#it's the heteronormativity and amatonormativity of it all :/#do i think it would've been cool for llojavi to be canon? absolutely! do i think it was necessary for the plot? nope!#they were already perfect the way they are! their friendship is the core of the entire plot and their relationship to each other#is what ultimately moves much of the plot in the latter half!#which is the way relationships should work in fiction! not just have them for the sake of having them!#lloyd didn't need a romantic subplot because the plot was already working perfectly without it!#also what's the point of having a character constantly think about what their idea of 'happy life' is if you're not going to challenge it#it's about the hero's journey of it all!!!#i have things to say dang it!#javier asrahan#tged
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sarahreesbrennan · 3 months
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Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?
Genuine question.
Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.
But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.
Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.
Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.
… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.
I’m not in this to have an internet argument. I prefer to leave my anons open since not everyone has a tumblr, as @neil-gaiman says it’s an internet backwater, but a lovely one for those like myself who enjoy an essay about fictional characters! Still I will close my inbox to anons if I must. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.
I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.
In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.
Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.
Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.
I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.
I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?
I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.
If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.
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yamujiburo · 4 months
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Some of this might sound intentionally hostile in text and I apologize.
I'm saying this as an abuse survivor mind you - don't throw "abusive ships" under the bus so easily - at least, so long as they're not actually glamorizing the abuse. I lived that irl and I personally find someone overcoming it, slowly having enough of that bullshit and getting out over time, and the other person having to wipe their own butt for once after they've made the damn mess, very refreshing. Maybe that's not a ship in the traditional sense. It's no happily ever after bc it shouldn't be, but I find stories like mine shyed away from so often because even the portrayal gets considered a "canon ship". ... that's just how media works now, I guess? I very rarely See a fictional relationship not called a ship in literally any context now so that's the definition I'm running on.
I wish more people were willing to portray the hardships of finding acceptance outside of "whoever you can find will accept you" very much, and finding the better things after. I wish people weren't terrified out of portrayimg situations like mine.
Jessie.. is not a good person in canon. You expect me to believe she moved into to hanamusa seamlessly, without falling on her ass? I never see you talk about Jessie's abusive tendencies in canon. You never talk about the inherent meanness she needed to get over to get there. She's quite aml lot like my ex in canon, actually.
What do you mean you're going to just remove from the character that she is abusive to those around her. Jessie hits people. She takes her own junk out on others all the time. Do you even like the character then, are you actually invested in her growing, or are you just making an OC at this point?
Idk. Do you, boo. But you are posting about a character who, whether you like it or not, is canonically abusive. I just don't buy that dating Ash's mom alone fixed her. That isn't... How that works. It would be excellent if it did. Part of my love of hanamusa is that it signals Jessie's change - but she could have changed for anyone before now.
What makes Delia different? How is she specifically a turning point for Jessie? Because Jessie's flaws go well beyond just bossing people around.
I would love if my abuser had the same outcome as your Jessie. I adore your portayals of hanamusa, where she's still flawed but still strives to do better. That's all I ever wanted from my ex.
What the fuck got her there tho.
Anyways I've been watching a lot of Bojack Horseman lately -
I agree with you! I don't think abusive relationships (or any tough subject matter in general) should be shied away from in media. It can be powerful when executed well and written by folks who are equipped to tell those kinds of stories. I do think it's sad when people treat it as off limits. But the ask I got was definitely more about which ships I have where I actually like the relationship between the characters. I think the semantics of the word "ship" are kind of vague or rather, over time, got so specific to only mean "absolutely love together and want them as endgame" (for most people anyways). So that's usually what I take the word to mean when people ask me about it.
I can 100% appreciate how an abusive relationship is written and handled, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna ship an abuser with their victim (that falls into the glorifying you're talking about). Love Bojack Horseman! Big fan! I think the way they handled Bojack and Sarah Lynn was beautifully and tragically well written. But does that mean I ship Bojack and Sarah Lynn? Absolutely fucking not.
I've talked about Jessie's character plenty on this blog and the way she's handled in earlier seasons specifically. This is kind of a summary: If we look at it on surface level, yes we can say she was abusive. But I think it's important to acknowledge and take into account the medium, time period and culture. Slapstick and cartoon violence was HUGE in anime and animation in the 90s (and prior to that too). Characters were always cartoonishly slapping each other around with giant mallets, folding fans, etc. Looney Tunes style. These slapstick bits were always distinct from real abuse and hurt (for Pokémon, Jessiebelle comes to mind). Mean slapstick wasn't a character trait exclusive to Jessie either. We saw it in Misty, James, Meowth, characters of the day and pretty much any character who got mad. It was a visual shortcut to show anger.
This type of slapstick has since (thankfully) died out and it hasn't really been a part of the Pokémon franchise since the early 2000s. However, Jessie was a notably special case. One of my favorite fun facts about the Pokémon anime is that there was a point in the series where Megumi Hayashibara (Jessie/Musashi's seiyuu) told the writers that moving forward, she no longer wanted Jessie to be violent or to be shown hitting James or Meowth (source: her memoir "The Characters Taught Me Everything"). She thought it directly went against the vision Takeshi Shudo had for Jessie, James and Meowth, when he created them, which was that they are good natured villains. If you watch from DP and on, Jessie never lays a hand on either of them. I think it was a such a good move on Pokémon's part to change her character like that and I'm forever grateful that Hayashibara said something! Whenever I write Jessie now, I always keep that in mind. She's mean, shouty and stupid but would never genuinely hurt those she cares about.
From then, her character becomes much more bearable. She's still bossy, mean and vain (typical cartoon villainess attributes) but I'd hesitate to say abusive. She'll still yell at James and Meowth, they all yell at each other, but in more of a sibling way (imo) rather than a "i'm actively trying to hurt your feelings way". The show makes a point especially in later seasons to show that Jessie, James and Meowth are not beyond being redeemed. From conception the whole POINT of the Team Rocket trio was that they are redeemable but their persistence and obsession keeps getting in the way of them seeing that there's a better life for them out there.
I won't deny that Jessie was unsavory in earlier seasons, but when I write her, I choose to write the version that Takeshi Shudo and Megumi Hayashibara had envisioned from the get go. She's still incredibly flawed and makes plenty missteps but wants to be better as you stated! My favorite part about Jessie is that she's a piece of shit LOL and I enjoy writing the changes she goes through to be better (but then still showing her default so some of her evil tendencies). In this AU, Delia doesn't fix Jessie. Jessie fixes Jessie because she is with someone makes her want to be a better person. She's already in the middle of turning over a new leaf before even meeting Delia, after leaving Team Rocket. Writing Jessie as legitimately abusive I think could work, but that's not my story to tell and if someone who were more equipped to tell that story did, I'd be very interested to take a listen!
I hope this doesn't come off as trying to deny or invalidate your experience. If you see that in Jessie, I hear you! This is just how I've interpreted her character over the years, having watched every episode of Pokémon and reading Japanese interviews from the cast and crew. She's such a compelling character and I love how messy she is
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People Pleaser || b.ch
Summary: In which you can't say no.
Parings: Bull Hybrid! Bang Chan x reader
Warnings: DARK CONTENT, 18+, smut, manipulation, noncon, breeding kink, unprotected sex, manhandling, switch chan, mention of chan lactating, yandere chan, needy chan, chan rambles, pushover y/n, sub y/n, gender neutral y/n,
Minors please DNI
Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.
You always had a hard time saying no.
Whether it was saying no to your parents when they offered you more food or your classmate asking to copy your homework, you couldn't reject them. Just seeing their smiles drop, eyes get downcast, and attitude change was like having a knife twisted into your chest.
That's why it wasn't a surprise that you ended up in your current predicament, in the lap of shirtless Chan on your bed, facing him while massaging his swollen chest.
He was given to you by a coworker who bred bull hybrids you befriended. Chan was deemed 'defective' as a bull hybrid due to him occasionally lactating milk, which unfortunately never was enough to sell. During these episodes, Chan's chest would get swollen and red, which would require a lot of care. Since you lived alone, your coworker had deemed him a nusiance and you had a hard time saying no, she had 'gifted' you the bull hybrid.
Chan let out a groan.
"It's unbearable. Please, do something."
You try to leave to get a warm compress for his chest, hoping that would help to relieve to pain. However, as soon as you gave any indication leaving his lap, he grabs your wrist and pulls you back.
"No, please don't leave me. Your mouth, please. I need your mouth on me. It hurts so much."
You pause, giving him a confused look.
"Chan, I'm sorry but I don't think I should-"
"You said you'd take care of me. Right now, I need your mouth on me. It'll help to distract me from the pain, I promise." Chan urged, clearly becoming impatient.
Chan had never done anything to blur the boundaries of your relationship and he was always so kind towards you, helping you cook, clean, and even helping to pay the bills with a side-gig.
Hesistantly, you shift closer to him and attach your lips to his neck. Kissing and nibbling in the area while continuing to massage his chest to the best of your ability.
"Is this okay?" You ask, feeling unsure of yourself, lips brushing against his neck.
Chans breath hitches. "Yes. Please more. Move around, don't just focus on one area."
Complying with his request, you trace your lips lower, landing on the nape of his neck.
Chans resolve crumbles the minute you kiss his soft spot.
"I'm so so sorry."
You let out a squeak as you were pinned to your mattress.
"Chan...? What's going on? Is everything okay?"
Chan doesn't respond, not giving you much time to process as he rips off you bottoms, your underwear coming off too. He doesn't even remove his pants completely, only tugging it down to free his cock from its confines. He aligns himself to your hole, cock red and drooling.
You freeze as you feel his member against your enterance. "Chan-- wait-- I don't-- it's too big-- I can't-- please stop--" Your brain shortcircuits and you squirm, pushing against his chest. You don't want to hurt him.
"I'm so sorry."
He pushes in, rutting in short motions trying to ease himself into you unprepped.
You let out a sob and weakly hit his chest as you feel him sinking into you. You feel like you're being split in half and the burning sensation won't stop.
Chan shushes you and pins your wrists above your head. "It'll be okay soon. You're being so good to me, yeah? My good owner taking such good care of me."
Chan leans down and kisses away your tears tenderly, as if he wasn't harshly rutting into you at a punishing pace, not even giving you enough time to adjust. You lay there under Chan limp, unable to do anything other than take what he gives you.
"You feel so good, so nice and tight around me. It's like you were made for me. Fuck, I'm so lucky I got such a sweet owner like you. Someone else other than me might've snatched you up if it weren't for me"
Chan changes his angle, hitting a spot in you that instinctively makes you tighten up and your toes curl. He seems to take notice and abuses that spot.
"I've dreamed of this for such a long time. I want to start a family with you. Breed you. You'd make such a good parent with me. You won't need to rely on anyone but me."
Your cry harder as feel your last ounce of the control you had over your body slip away. Chan kisses you and your orgasm hits you. Chan doesn't give you time to rest as he continues his onslaught, putting his weight on your wrists and chasing his high.
"Fuck. Take my cum. Take it like the good owner you are."
You feel it as he stills in you. You can feel it as he throbs inside you, painting your walls white with his thick cum.
Chan lets out a sigh as he pulls out, cum oozing out of your puffy hole.
He gives you another kiss before flipping you over onto your stomach while pinning your legs down with his. You slump down, eyes fluttering closed, cheek pressed against the mattress. Exhaustion fills your body to the point of which you can't even speak or move. Dread fills you body as you feel his hard member against your hole.
"One round shouldn't be enough to get your pregnant right? Guess we'll have to go a few more times."
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space-writes · 11 months
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why i write in obsidian.md (and why you should try it!)
hey, hi, have I mentioned my notes app? let me tell you about my notes app! I’ve been writing in obsidian for over a year now, for fanfic and original fiction/worldbuilding (and dungeons and dragons, and life organisation, and a myriad of other things) and so far I’ve gotten at least three people to also start using it, and I am in fact on an endless quest to get more people to try it.
obsidian.md how do i love thee, let me list the ways:
It’s offline. you are not beholden to the whims of wifi!
Did i mention it’s free? it’s free!
you can pay to support the devs, or to access the sync service, but honestly I just use a free file sync service to move things between my desktop/laptop.
It’s super lightweight at its core. you can (and I do) run it with a bunch of plugins and customisation, but at it’s base it’s just text, in simple files. plaintext. readable by anything. your writing is not trapped in proprietary file formats.
HOWEVER you can in fact customise every aspect of it and if you like Making Your Notes Cute I cannot recommend it enough as a Way To Procrastinate Actually Writing
Crucially, you can link your notes. This is phenomenal for not only worldbuilding, but planning, research, outlining and connecting characters and events. You just make a note, type in square brackets, and boom. linked notes. You can make yourself a little writing wikipedia with approximately 0 effort.
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I have separate vaults (Instances, pretty much. Big overarching folders with separate sets of content) for my Valloroth project, my day-to-day notes/fanfic, and my D&D game. They’re aesthetically very different, which is so so so great for getting in the right headspace for the work I’m doing.
OH and we have obsidian canvas now! which is a simple mind-mapping feature where you can make and connect note cards, which can also be notes in your vault. I haven’t had a chance to do timelines with it yet, but it’ll be fun for that. I have made relationship charts with it, and it was great for that. If you like visually laying out boxes of information and connecting them into a pepe silvia board of plot, canvas is incredible
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this is a pointcrawl map I made for my D&D game. Those red words in the boxes? links to the locations in the city the players were exploring. phenomenal
do you like split screen? you can have multiple notes open at once in horizontal and vertical configurations, and you can also open multiple tabs in each split window. it’s SO great for research and outlining, when you need like ten documents open at once to move between
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finally, there are so many addons to COMPLETELY CUSTOMISE your Writing Setup. styling for tags. kanban boards. LINKABLE MAPS. ways to label scenes with metadata and pull just so many different tables/lists of story information. AND SO MANY MORE. I’m gonna do a whole post of my favourite writing plugins at some point so i can yell about them
the only downsides are that it’s somewhat clunky still to export things out of obsidian—I copy my fics into googledocs for my beta, and I have a plugin to make exporting to html easier to post on ao3, but it’s still kinda fiddly. Also, if you want a program that Has Everything and Just Works, this is…not that. you can build a lot of really useful writing specific features, but you do have to build them. it’s a sandbox, so if you don’t like sandbox-style programs, this may not work for you.
that being said, I do think everyone should try it and play with it and love it like I do and convince all their friends to start using it like i did. come play with obsidian with me! it’s fun! there’s a great community in the official discord that’s very active, plus an ever-growing collection of resources, particularly on youtube (highly reccommend Danny Hatcher’s videos as a jumping in point, they’re super accessible imo)
anyway, come try obsidian!
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st5rni · 5 months
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BACK TO YOU
matthew sturniolo fan fiction
WARNINGS : smut, angst if you squint, ex to lovers
*:・゚✧*:・゚
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*:・゚✧*:・゚
after a long night of playing board games with the triplets in their living room, everyone begins to get bored and pack it all up.
"i'll sleep on the couch," you say, not wanting to intrude on any of their rooms. it's been a while since you've seen all three of them, especially after you and matt broke up, so everything seems to be a bit hesitant.
chris puts his arm around your shoulder, "nah thats fine, sleep in the guest bedroom upstairs. we usually have madi or nate stay in there when they come over, so you can temporarily take their place." he insists, giving you his best smile despite being half asleep.
"okay, that works." you agree, standing up and yawning, "which way is it?" trying to remember which floor the guest bedroom is on.
"its the room next to mine." matt says, "you remember, right? you went in the guest bedroom once while trying to find your way to my room when we first moved here." he laughs a bit as he says this, reflecting on that time. back when you two were still together.
you stare at him for a moment before answering, "yeah, um, i remember." you say awkwardly, tucking your hair behind your hair and tying it up so your hands have something to do besides pick at your hangnails. the whole room is quiet now, the tension being very clear to all four of you.
matt fiddles with his rings, "uh, okay goodnight." he says before speed walking away to his room as quickly as he could.
"you two make things so awkward." nick says bluntly while he puts up the uno cards, "like why are you both still like this? just get back together." nick suggests with a snark, chris nodding in agreement.
you feel a blush grow on your cheeks, not sure if from embarrassment or not, "you think he'd want to? i don't know i just felt like he was over it by now. i fucked our relationship up." you admit, trying to sound casual about it, and not as desperate for him as you actually are.
"do i think?" nick laughs, "he wears the horse necklace you bought him almost everyday, even in videos. he still has photos of you two on his desk. he's more in love with you than he was before the breakup, i think." he says with a shrug, lowering his voice a bit so matt doesnt overhear
chris jumps in, "i mean.. why did you two break up, anyways? he never wanted to talk about it." his words had hesitance to them, like he was scared it'd break you if he asked.
"i broke up with him because of the distance, but now i-" you pause your words, wondering if you should tell them now, "i.. i was planning on waiting to tell you guys this but, um, im moving to LA. we have a deposit on a house and everything."
"NO WAY??" chris practically screams before running to give you a hug that even nick joins, "that's great!! why do you seem so like, upset about it?" chris questions, genuinely confused on why you didn't even smile when telling them the news.
you put your face in your hands, "it's embarrassing. i can't even tell you guys- just.. it's stupid." you try and stray away from the LA conversation, not wanting to admit you moved here primarily to try and get closer with matt again, "do you think he'd want to ever.. get back together? or, like, at least talk about it?"
"i mean, i think so?" nick says, some doubt in his words, "i dont know about getting back together, it.. hit him pretty hard." he admits, crossing his arms as he says that, knowing he shouldn't be telling you what he is.
you nod, words not able to form properly anymore, "okay.. uh, goodnight guys." you decided it was best to end the conversation here before you cried in front of them. something you'd never hear the end of. giving them a weak smile, you walk to the guest bedroom you'd be sleeping in.
while you go up there stairs, you reconsider the conversation with nick.
maybe there's just the slightest chance he would ever want you back. but honestly? it was likely the opposite. after you'd hurt him so badly, it only makes sense for him to hate you. you don't even blame him, either.
that thought hurt more than anything, and you needed an answer to whether it was true or not.
you look at the two doors in front of you, knowing one is matts room and the other is the guest bedroom. you could drop everything now, leave matt alone, and completely remove him from your life.
..but you love him too much to not have that closure. you need a final answer.
slowly, you open up his door and peak through the sliver of it, looking in his room.
there matt was.
he was on his bed, shirtless and sweating. his eyes were shut and he was practically panting as he was jerking himself into his own hand.
"fuck, fuck- fuck." you hear him muttering under his breath, and with just your luck, you lean on the door, causing it to accidentally open more than you meant to, causing him to look up and see you staring at him, "FUCK!" he yells, before covering himself with his blanket.
"SORRY— IM SORRY!" you yell back, slamming the door closed immediately after. "shit." you whisper to yourself, recollecting what just happened.
just seeing that. fuck, you had forgotten how much he turns you on.
a couple minutes pass by, matt opens the door, his face flushed and hair messy, still not entirely calmed down yet. he runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat. "um, sorry. whats up?" he tries to ignore the awkward situation lingering in both of their minds.
you clear your throat, and start fidgeting with your fingers, "can we- um, can we talk?" you ask, also still trying to recover. that was not something you'd just forget about. ever. "please?"
"what?" he stutters, "i mean, sure. yeah, come in." he clears the door so you can walk in his room, "its kind of messy, sorry."
you look around matts room, noticing how things were different, but still familiar, "you rearranged things." you state, mainly talking to yourself, still observing.
suddenly you remember what nick said, and look towards his desk and see the photos of you two framed sitting there, exactly where they had always been.
"so.." matt starts, "what'd you want to talk about?" he asks, once again fiddling with his rings.
"oh," you had almost forgot, "i just.. fuck this is gonna sound stupid. um. matt, do you— um... i should have thought about this before i came here." you blush, now embarrassing yourself.
he tries to give you a smile, but fails, "its okay. you can sit down if you want." he offers, sitting down on his bed to try and make you more comfortable towards the idea.
you look at him, and just admire him. how could someone be this sweet? "thank you." you say, accepting the offer while you sit down next to matt. probably closer than you should, "matt do you hate me?" you spit out, trying to get it out of the way.
"what?" he asks softly, almost like the question offended him. "thats a joke, y/n." he scoffs.
"im serious!" you insist, looking directly at him, "i know what i did was fucking horrible, and unfair, and selfish. and i never should have done it but—"
matt interrupts you, standing up, "Y/N what are you talking about? you broke up with me. if anyone hates anyone, its you who hates me." he thinks for a second, "i wish i hated you." he says in a quiet voice, but it had some harshness to it.
"matt, no!" you immediately refute, standing up as well, "i care about you— i promise i care. its all ive been thinking about for months. i mean, fuck, i miss you matt. im still in love with you. i never stopped."
"thats not fair and you know it, y/n." matt turns his face from you, "i have been waiting that maybe there was a chance we could ever try again and as soon as im coming to terms that it wont happen you pull this shit. im not going to do this again knowing it'll have the same result of you thriving in boston with all your friends completely forgetting about me while im here still wearing the stupid fucking necklace you got me on our first date." his voice was shaky, everything he was holding back this whole time had exploded at once.
you feel a salty tear run down your face despite your efforts to stop them, "please, just— this is different. it's different this time i promise." you beg, trying to get words out but hardly being able to, "just, hear me out and it can be your decision on what we-"
matt turns to you again, "i said no y/n." he hesitates when he sees your tears, his expression softening a bit, "you— you were right. it'll never work with you in boston."
"im moving to LA." you blurt out, and that's all you say for a second. a lot of emotions flash on matts face at those words, but you cant make out any of them. you take a deep breath, "i missed you, and boston wasnt taking me anywhere for my future. i..." you think for a moment. "i see you in my future."
matt stares at you, not reacting in any visible way at this point. you start panicking when he still doesn't say anything.
"but, if you dont want that that's okay too— ill stay away, or like— i can go back to boston, i just have a deposit on the house its no big—" your sentence gets cut off by matt walking towards you, grabbing you by the waist, and pulling you in for a kiss.
as your lips connect, he moves one hand to your face. his touch is loving, forgiving. just how you'd remembered it. you didnt kiss him back at first due to the initial shock. he pulls away, "stay." is all he and mumbles before kissing you again.
this time you immediately kiss back, wrapping your arms around his neck just like you used to. his body pressed against yours. its everything is just how it was, but somehow even better. the emotions are strong, enveloping both of you.
his lips move against yours as he moves his hands down to your hips, making your stomach tie in knots and your face warm. suddenly you're acutely aware of every action, every sensation, every thought, every feeling. its all heightened as you realize the situation you're in
the kiss comes to an end, and you stare at him, unable to suppress the smile from your face, "so.. you do still love me?"
matt cant help but laugh, causing you to join him, putting your face against his chest, "y/n, i just went on a whole rant about how i love you. then i kissed you. i think you can put two and two together."
"yeah, well... i miss hearing it." you pull your face from his chest so you can see him again, looking into his light blue eyes, then his whole face. you missed this so much.
"in that case," he kisses your head, "i love you, y/n. so much." his thumb gently caresses the areas of your cheeks that are tear-stained. "and to make it official, can i be your boyfriend again?" he asks, his voice genuine and sensitive. you know he's wanted to say that for so long, and so have you.
you bring him in for a hug this time, "i love you more, matt. and yes, you can." you say, taking in everything as you do.
you finally had matt again after all this time, and this time you weren't letting go. not again.
"matt," you softly say to get his attention, and lift your head up to kiss him again, he immediately kisses back, and picks you up as he does.
you wrap your legs around him, not removing yourself from the kiss. he sits on the bed with you in his lap.
the kiss is passionate, and slowly getting more heated as both of you are overcame with each other. you're pressing down on him, softly grinding against his crotch. it was already hard considering you interrupted him just a few minutes before. the atmosphere of the room changes, its sudden, both of you knowing where this was leading and neither wanting to change it.
he grabs your hips and pulls you down on him harder, your touch to him becoming even more intimate now. he's breath is heavy while you focus on making him feel as good as possible, missing being like this with him. missing seeing him like this.
as things were heating up, he brings the kiss a short stop, "y/n, are you sure you want to go farther with this? i was already kind of.. you know, when you came to talk to me. we just got back together, i dont want you to rush into this if you'll regret it." he checks, not wanting to ruin things because of one stupid choice.
as obvious as it was that you wanted this, it still meant a lot he had asked you. you almost forgot how caring hes always been with you, "i want you, matt. i promise. i want you in every way." as soon as you say this, as if a switch was turned on, he dips his head down and starts kissing at your exposed neck, making a small gasp escape your lips.
hes making sure he leaves marks, biting and sucking in every place, not hurting you, but instead making you more and more needy. you bring your hands up to his hair and run your fingers through it, still as soft as its always been.
"y/n, y'know what i was thinking of earlier?" he asks you as he moves his kisses up to your jaw, blissfully taking in every little noise you would make.
"n-no." you stutter out, trying to focus on his words when all your brain could linger on was the thought of him being inside of you, "tell me?"
you feel his lips curl into a smile, "i was thinking of you. of us. just being like this, your mouth on me again. me inside of you again." he mumbles, just loud enough to where you can hear it, his breath hot against you're skin.
you bite your lip softly, "i remember." your voice is soft, thinking about touching him like that again, "can i.." you trail off your words, getting off his lap to sit on your knees in front of him, and you softly touch his sweatpants waistband.
he lifts his hips up for a moment to help you pull off his pants and boxers easier as he takes off his own shirt.
you stare at his length in front of you, hard with pre cum leaking at the tip. you look up at him staring at you, waiting to see what you do next.
you move one hand to wrap around his base, he shudders at the sudden feeling despite as gentle as you were.
remembering what he likes, you rub your finger against his tip teasingly, just touching it enough to make it somewhat of a tickling, pleasurable sensation.
you look up at him, lust hazy in your eyes before looking back down and licking the tip, swirling your tongue as agonizingly slow as you could .
"fuck, y/n." he hissed, the desperation clear in his voice. he moves one hand to your hair, keeping the other still on the bed as he throws his head back.
after a bit more teasing, you finally put your whole mouth around his tip, and slowly bring your head down.
matts breaths are fast paced and rigid, keeping his hand in your hair as he tightens his grip subconsciously, his mind fuzzy from the slow pace.
you bring your head back up his length, bobbing it up and down. you use your hands to reach any place your mouth cant, swirling your tongue against his base and getting where you knew all his sensitive spots were.
he's letting out soft moans, trying to stay quiet so no one would hear him. he watches you intensely, admiring the sight, "you're so fucking pretty Y/N." he breathes out, slightly bucking his hips into your mouth, loving the feeling of you on him.
you continue like this for a little bit more, enjoying making him feel this way. not too much time passes before he gently pulls you off of him right as he's getting close, "not yet." he mutters, taking deep breaths as he comes down from a high.
you stand up and he pulls you back into his lap, but this time he grabs your waist tightly and flips your positions, pinning you down to the bed.
matt reaches for the hem of your tank top, looking at you, his eyes half lidded, wanting permission to take it off of you.
in response, you lift your back and help him pull it off you. you're about to unhook your bra as well before matt moves your hands out of the way and does it effortlessly.
"its still your favorite?" he asks, motioning towards the bra. its lacy pink one. it was really cute and surprisingly comfortable at the same time.
and you knew it always made you irresistible to matt.
"i only wear it when i see you." you admit breathlessly, before fully taking it off and throwing it off to the side, it now laying on his floor.
he lightly caresses your body, dragging his hands up from your torso to your breasts, feeling every curve you had, "just like i remember." he whispers, before leaning to shower your entire upper body in kisses. "my beautiful girl."
matt continues to kiss down until he gets to your shorts, and he softly pulls both your shorts and panties down, cherishing every bit of you being revealed.
once he takes off those last bits of your clothes, he admires you while he rubs the inside of your thigh, "i missed you, Y/N. not just like this, i missed every moment of you. so much." he says as he takes off his rings, putting them on the bedside table. "i missed being inside you, too."
your face turns red, eyes glued on his hands now, curious on his next actions, "matt-" he interrupts you by spitting on his fingers and bringing them down to rub your clit. "fuck!" you gasp, the sudden feeling shocking you.
matt continues to rub in small circles, your back arching as he does so, "have you been with anyone else?" he asks, kissing your stomach as he speaks, unable to keep himself off you.
"no." you tell him honestly through pants.
matt hums softly, and slowly brings his finger down your hole, before putting it inside you easily from how wet you were, looking at your reaction as he does so, "so tight..." he whispers. "does this hurt? when was the last time you-"
"i dont." you interrupt him, knowing what he's going to ask, "i mean i like, i do stuff.. i just— i only let you do it."
matt smiles against your chest, "ill take care of you baby." he says gently, coming up to kiss your jawline and softly biting as he does so. you feel him curl his finger inside of you, "can i add another one?"
you hesitantly nod, not able to get any words out. the first finger was just starting to feel good as he continued to move it inside of you, he brings his other hand down to rub your clit more as well, making you twitch from the overstimulation.
"use your words," he orders, his voice soft but eyes full of hunger. "i wanna hear you." he brings another finger to your entrance, teasing you by just putting the fingertip in.
you shut your eyes, "please, matt. please put another finger in." you beg, opening your legs more to urge him to do it faster.
"perfect." he says, before putting another finger in, this one more of a struggle, "is that good for you?" he asks, knowing its been a while and not wanting to rush you.
"yes. yeah, thank you. fuck." you reassure, gripping the bedsheet to steady yourself. it wasnt a lot, but it was the most you've had in a while. not to mention its matt.
he chuckles softly against your skin, and brings his head up to kiss you. he moves the hand rubbing your clitoris to grab both of your wrists and pin them above your head. there wasn't too much force, but his grip was just tight enough, "why are you thanking me? it should be the other way around."
he spreads his fingers inside of you, trying to get you ready for whats to come. after the stinging pain was gone, it felt blissful. matts always been good with his fingers, but you forgot how good.
after a while, he had added another finger, prepping and teasing you by dragging it out for as long as he could make you last.
you had begun to grind yourself down on his fingers, trying to get them to go even further inside you, "matt. please, im ready. please. i need you so badly." you plead, your legs twitching from his touch.
"alright, since you've been so patient." he complies, slowly removing his fingers from you, making you shiver from the empty feeling, and letting your wrists go. he brings himself forwards, and you subconsciously wrap your legs around his waist. "let me know when you're ready."
you exhale shakily, feeling matt rub against your entrance. whether he's just trying to get ready, or if hes purposely teasing you, it makes your stomach heat up in that familiar way.
you look at him after a moment, and see the desire as he stares back at you, "im ready." you say, bringing your hands up to wrap around his neck.
at that very same time, he slowly pushes inside you, causing you to let out a sharp gasp, "fuck..." you hiss in pain, closing your eyes.
"it's okay, im going slow. im almost fully in. just let me know when you're ready for me to move, baby." he comforts, running a hand through your hair, the other one gripping your waist.
you eventually feel him come to a stop after what feels like forever, knowing that means he's finally in, "im sorry. im almost ready, shit." you're trying to stop yourself from showing it hurts, knowing its going to feel amazing after a second. remembering how amazing he feels.
he shakes his head immediately, knowing how long it's been for you, "no, dont apologize. take your time." he inhales slowly, "y/n, you feel so fucking good already." he shuts his eyes now too, your walls tightening more around him the longer he stays still inside you.
"okay. okay." you speak up after a few silent moments, "move, please. im ready." you whimper, moving your hands to grab his shoulders, tightening your grip on him to prepare yourself.
matt nods, and slowly pulls himself back and forward again. it stings, but already hurts less than you thought it would.
"faster." you let out in a breathy sigh, looking directly at him now that you're more used comfortable towards the feeling.
"wont fight you on that one, baby." he huffs out, increasing his pace gradually so it's not too much at once for you.
now you have yourself arching your back as he thrusts into you rapidly. he's being gentle, but it's just enough so you can feel his passion. you can feel how badly he wants you.
he's letting out breathy moans, and is leaning into you while continuing at his pace, not taking even the slightest break.
your legs and hips are shaking, bucking up for as much friction as you can get during this, the pleasure building more and more.
you can hear his pants next to your ear, he leans in to kiss you despite not being properly able to. the kiss is sloppy, but heated. there's so much love behind it, and you know you can both feel it, "fuck y/n. you're so perfect, such a good girl. ive wanted this for so long baby, you have no idea." his words are broken apart as he ruts against you.
"im close." you say, his words bringing you to the brink of an orgasm, already still recovering from that high from earlier you know you wont last long, "can i cum, please?"
matt inhales sharply, bringing his hand to your neck and squeezes softly subconsciously. matt slowly nods, "yes. fuck, yes."
with matts permission, you let out a moan saying matts name, slightly hoarse from the grip he has on your neck. you feel yourself grow warmer than before as you release, biting your bottom lip, trying to keep a little bit of dignity for yourself.
"fuck." matt sighs out. "me, too. im- fuck, i have to-" he quickly pulls out and releases all over your stomach and breasts, his mouth open as whimpers fall out of it.
"fuck. sorry." he apologizes, leaning over to grab a towel.
he quickly wipes his cum off you, and throws the towel in a bin of other dirty clothes, "do you need to take a shower or anything?" he asks, clearly still out of breath.
thats an obvious no since you can hardly talk, let alone stand up for that long, "no its okay." you respond as you scoot up, patting a spot on the bed, "just stay here with me. or, i— i can leave if you want me too—" you panic, not knowing if he wanted you to leave or not. you didn't want to have the wrong idea and invade in matts privacy.
"no, y/n." he laughs softly, "stay, please. just give me one second, okay? ill be right back." matt grabs some underwear and sweatpants and throws them on before kissing your forehead and leaving the room.
a few minutes pass by, and he comes back holding a plate of some of your favorite snacks and two bottles of water. "i know its late, so you probably don't want anything to eat right now, but at least drink some water for me if you can." he hands you the water and puts the snacks down on top of the drawers next to you, "do you want some clothes to sleep in? a sweater? you're cold, arent you?"
you just stare at him admiringly for a beat, wondering how you got so lucky as to have this wonderful man back in your life, "dont stress, matt. you dont need to do all of this. can you just hand me my underwear and maybe a jacket or something?" you request, a smile on your face. you missed this feeling so much.
"yeah, totally. here," matt grabs your underwear and a random ransom hoodie he has and hands them to you. you quickly put them on, and matt crawls in bed with you, "come here." he whispers softly, wrapping his arm around you and running his fingers up and down your arm, "i missed you."
a gentle smile forms on your lips as you lean into his touch. "i missed you, too."
matts silent again, lost in thought, "why dont you just stay here? i mean, it might be too soon but— it'd save money for you and plus you'd be here most of the time anyways. plus, i could see you more."
your face is immediately covered in a blush at the implication. its a risky idea, but hes right. it'd make more sense, after all you were going to be here more than your own house anyways, "you know what? i dont think thats a bad idea. if it means i get to live like this everyday, im definitely down." you snicker while leaning more into matts chest, "but the issue is i signed to live there for at least 6 months already."
"that's okay," matt assures you. "as long as you're nearby, you know?"
you nod, leaning in to kiss him softly. his hand gives your waist a gentle squeeze before chuckling softly.
"round two?"
A/N
hope u enjoy!! part 2 is in the making
321 notes · View notes
f1letters · 1 year
Text
anti-hero | cl16
"I wake up screaming from dreaming, one day, I'll watch as you leaving"
summary: no matter how many times charles told her she was more than enough, this misogynistic world kept giving her reasons to run away
warning: a little bit of angst but fluffy end, driver!reader, Williams!reader, kind of secret/private relationship, mentions of parental abandonment, daddy issues (cause same lol), misogynistic and degrading comments towards the reader, slut shamming, swearing, self-sabotage, low self-esteem, anxiety, just an overload of ups and downs, platonic!reader x alex albon
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
word count: 3.6k
note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.
french words used: mon ange = my angel; mon amour = my love
is it possible to fall in love with your own fictional character? cause I think I just did! hope you enjoy this (not really surprising haha) anti-hero story!
masterlist
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I have this thing where I get older, but just never wiser
Midnights become my afternoons
When my depression works the graveyard shift, all of the people
I've ghosted stand there in the room
Life seemed to be falling apart for Y/N.
In the middle of the dark room, the only noises that filled the deafening silence were the ticking sound coming from the big clock on the wall, and the troubled thoughts that seemed to reappear in her head night after night.
Tick. Tock.
Tick. Tock. 
Tick. Tock.
Time passed and passed, but Y/N remained there, frozen, haunted by her own demons.
To be completely frank, life had never really felt right for the young woman.
The battle in her head was something usual, ever since she was just a little girl. It didn't matter how old she got, she never got wiser.
It felt completely unreasonable how she could feel herself drowning in sadness when just hours before she had had one of the happiest days of her life.
Charles's strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, the skin of her back against his warm chest, their eyes fixed on the dazzling sunset before them on the clear waters of Monaco, as they lay on the bed of his yacht.
The warm tones that painted the skies and waters were intoxicating, as was Charles's presence.
As much as she tried to keep her attention on that magical gift of nature, Y/N could only thank fate for having that wonderful man by her side.
I don't know what I did to deserve you, she thought to herself.
"Mon amour?" The Monegasque's voice woke her from her trance. "Do you think we... Forget it, it's silly."
The girl turned towards her boyfriend, their eyes now connected, just inches apart. "What is it, Charles? You know you can tell me anything." She said, though her anxiety was already starting to creep up in her stomach.
He took a deep breath, gathering all the courage in him, and with her eyes shining brighter than ever, she asked. "Do you think we'll ever get married?"
Her heart skipped a few beats at the driver's words, looking as nervous as ever, but for a second... Y/N allowed herself to dream.
"If it's not you, I'll never be with anyone else, Charles Leclerc. You're it for me."
Hours have passed since one of the most breathtaking moments of her life, and there she was: scared to death about the future.
Charles was fast asleep in their room, his light snores echoing down the hall through the open door.
Y/N looked at the time - 12:05 AM.
It was midnight, and the girl just sat on the leather couch in their living room, with only silence for company.
As the girl got up to go back to her bed where her boyfriend was waiting for her, she couldn't understand how she got everything she ever dream of, but she just couldn't feel as happy as she should have.
I should not be left to my own devices
They come with prices and vices
I end up in crisis
(Tale as old as time)
For as long as she can remember, she's been that way.
She could remember the exact moment when her world changed, when her walls closed in around her, when everything she knew crashed into pieces to the ground.
For little Y/N, just an innocent child at the time, her father's sudden absence from their home seemed inexplicable. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and there was no sign of him.
With no message, no farewell, no explanation.
Just like air, he was just… gone.
The colourful house where she laughed and played with both of her parents quickly became a set of broken walls, colourless and lifeless.
Her mother had never been the same ever since, and even today the young woman cannot forget the image of the woman she loved most in her entire life, sitting on the old sofa in her childhood home, exhausted, empty, without the energy to cry anymore.
Much like she mirrored it now.
Months turned into years since her father left her but, like a ghost standing there in the room, the lingering consequences of his actions still haunted her until that day.
No matter how much therapy she got, Y/N always felt like that lonely girl who could never make friends, who sabotaged every single relationship she had.
It seemed the only permanent companion she was going to have in her life was her crushing, persistent depression.
That was until she met Charles, right at the moment she most needed a shoulder to lean on.
It was 2020 - the year her biggest dream finally came true.
Y/N was finally going to become a Formula 1 driver.
Wherever she looked as she entered the circuit for the first time, the young woman could sense the eyes fixed on her and the curiosity that revolved around her.
Y/N L/N, the first woman in the 21st century to be part of the very competitive F1 grid, the promising new rookie racing for Williams Racing.
It was a whole mix of emotions: the happiness, pride and satisfaction that the new young driver felt for fulfilling her dream couldn't help but be overshadowed by all the controversy, hatred and hostility that her entry into the sport brought with it.
'This is not a girl's sport'
'She must have slept with someone important'
'She's just a pretty face'
Y/N heard it all while trying to turn a deaf ear to all these hateful people.
The girl sat in the chair in the middle of the conference room, prepared to face the world on her first day in media, but reality quickly managed to bite back at her when one of the interviewers walked over to her, eyes wide with scorn plastered in his face.
"Question for Y/N: How does it feel to know that such a talented driver was left with no seat in the team for you to join, just because you're a woman?"
I wake up screaming from dreaming
One day, I'll watch as you're leaving
'Cause you got tired of my scheming
(For the last time)
To say the woman was taken aback was an understatement.
Her voice seemed to have disappeared and her brain to have stopped being able to form sentences as she tried to understand the complete, unfair misogyny she was suffering just for being a person trying to achieve her goals, regardless of gender.
Out of nowhere, a warm voice echoed through the room, drawing all attention to him.
"How about you stop being a complete idiot and try to do your job like a professional instead?" The brunette in red spoke, full of confidence and determination. "Y/N is here because she deserves it and because she has immense talent. No one here is going to take credit away from her just because they're a sexist pig."
Her eyes threatened tears as his met her grateful gaze.
Little did she know that the hero who stood up for her would end up being the love of her life.
Back to that day, Y/N suddenly woke up from her dream screaming, still tormented by the discrimination she had to face and still had to face until that very day.
"Hey, hey..." Charles woke up, cupping her face gently in his hands, making her look towards him as he wiped the tears that were streaming from her eyes. "Are you all right? Breathe, mon ange. It was just a dream."
"Yes, it's okay." Y/N swallowed hard, lying through her teeth. "It was just a nightmare, Charles. Don't worry."
He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight to comfort her, but in reality, in the back of her mind, she could only think of the worst.
He deserves so much better than the mess I am. He'll get tired and just leave me one day. Like everybody else does.
It's me, hi
I'm the problem, it's me
At teatime, everybody agrees
I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
Until sunrise, the girl stayed awake, her mind doing what she knew how to do best: racing.
Not even the strong arms that enveloped her body, or the heat that her partner's body emitted were capable of transmitting some calm, or some security.
She was the problem.
Tired of lying in bed without any rest, Y/N gave up on being there and, exhausted, she got up, heading back to the cold living room in the centre of the apartment.
She tried everything to get her mind away from the negativity poisoning her system: reading a book, watching a movie, cooking breakfast. But all in vain.
Hours passed before she heard Charles's footsteps interrupting the silence, and soon she could see her boyfriend, shirtless, showing off his excellent physical shape, and stretching as he walked towards her.
"Good morning, mon amour." Charles said, hugging his girlfriend's body from behind and placing a soft kiss on the top of her shoulder. "Did you make breakfast? Damn, I'm lucky." He chuckled, still noticeably sleepy.
You're lucky? You deserve so much more than this, than me, her self-sabotaging thoughts returned.
"So what are we going to do today?" The man asked as he bit into the toast in his hand. "I was thinking we could have lunch at that restaurant by the marina that you love so much."
"I can't, Charles. I have to go to the team headquarters later." Falling back into her harmful tendencies, and without having the courage to look back at him, Y/N tried to keep her distance from him, using the scheduled meeting (which she didn't need to attend) as an excuse.
"Ah okay…" The Monegasque felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, as he sensed that something wasn't right with her. "If you want to do something when you get-"
"We'll see." She interrupted, answering dryly. Y/N grabbed her things and headed towards the entrance, her eyes still unable to take in his image. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay, mon ange." He agreed, trying not to pressure his girlfriend. "I love y-"
He hadn't even finished talking and she was already out the door.
Sometimes, I feel like everybody is a sexy baby
And I'm a monster on the hill
Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city
Pierced through the heart, but never killed
Within a few hours, Y/N arrived in Wantage, where her second home was: the elegant, welcoming HQ of Williams Racing.
Although still fragile, Y/N felt slightly more energetic and optimistic just being there, the memory of her professional success enough to give her a small boost of self-esteem.
The girl would never be able to put into words how grateful she would feel for the rest of her life for the chance the team gave her.
Entering through the large glass door, Y/N soon found Jost, her team principal, who supported her unconditionally during her two years on the team. The two quickly fell into casual conversation, rambling about the car's performance and the strategies used in previous races.
They stayed that way for a few minutes, until the voice of one of the engineers chanted through the walls of the long corridor, clearly unaware that he was being heard.
"I just don't understand what that she is fucking doing here, man. Y/N is just a little girl, we need a strong man behind that wheel."
The man quickly came face to face with the duo, fear spreading across his face: not for hurting Y/N's feelings - that he couldn't care less; but because he got caught red-handed by his superior - a man, that held the power over his job.
Jost tried to put a hand on the young woman's shoulder, but her body was already out of sight as the driver made her escape, the sound of Capito's scolding the rude man barely audible to her as she ran away from the scene.
She was the problem.
She simply would never be good enough.
Did you hear my covert narcissism
I disguise as altruism
Like some kind of congressman?
(Tale as old as time)
Unbeknownst to the girl, her teammate, Alex, couldn't help noticing her tearful figure escaping towards the garden that decorated the back of the headquarters.
Without thinking twice, the Thai hurriedly followed her, gently grabbing her wrist to stop her.
"Y/N, what's wrong?" The boy asked him, a worried look on his face.
Despite the girl being able to count on one hand the true friendships she managed to build in her entire life, Alex Albon was one of the few people she really connected with.
The genuine, loving boy felt almost like the brother she never had, protecting her with everything he had since the day she joined Williams. 
Two years had passed since then and his presence in her life was now unparalleled and irreplaceable.
"Just tale as old as time." She spoke without thinking, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Forget it. It's no big deal."
Her friend put his arm around the girl's shoulders, pulling her into a comforting hug. "You know I can read you like the back of my hand, Y/N."
"It's just…" The girl sobbed, letting her cheek rest against the tall man's chest. "I'm fed up. Sometimes I just want to give up on it all, on Formula 1, on motorsports. I'm tired of feeling less than everyone else just because I'm not a man."
"Hey, look at me." Alex said, placing both of his hands on the girl's forearms. "You're here because you deserve it. You've won championships in the junior categories. You've scored a hell out of points for a driver in a car like Williams. You and I are literally the most successful duo in the team in the last decade."
The girl couldn't help but laugh softly, sniffling her nose. "When you put it that way..."
"Believe me, Y/N." Albon spoke, hugging the girl he saw as his 'little sister' again. "I'm so proud of you, Charles is so proud of you, all the drivers on the grid are. Fuck what others think."
I wake up screaming from dreaming
One day, I'll watch as you're leaving
And life will lose all its meaning
(For the last time)
To say that Alex made her feel so much better was an understatement.
Suddenly, Y/N had a pep in her step, a grin from ear to ear, a renewed energy within her and an eagerness to return home to the one she loved.
The girl couldn't help but feel guilty for the way she treated Charles that morning, so she decided to surprise him with her early return and also a small gift.
Y/N was a gift giver, especially for Charles, who always looked like a little boy on Christmas Eve every time she did so.
Charles had spent weeks and weeks drooling over a sweater from his favourite brand, helping his girlfriend choose the gift. With her headphones in her ears, the girl glided through the aisle of the store in Monte Carlo, straight to the selected piece of clothing.
As she searched for the correct size, the side of her face heated up as she felt someone's attention suddenly on her. The whispers distracted her from what she was doing and she discreetly turned down the music on her phone to listen to what the two laughing girls were saying.
"I don't know, I've heard rumours about them but I don't think so."
"I hope not, I mean, he's Charles Leclerc! He can have any girl he wants."
"You're so right. He's probably just fucking some bikini model on the low."
The sweater remained on the hanger, as Y/N left the store empty-handed.
It's me, hi
I'm the problem, it's me
At teatime, everybody agrees
I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
It looked like she simply couldn't catch a break that day: the world was determined to bring her down.
Opening the apartment door, Y/N entered, being immediately seen by her boyfriend who had a smile the size of the world.
"Mon amour, you're back!" He got up from his chair, nearly tripping over his own feet with the excitement that filled him. "You don't understand how happy I am to see y- What's wrong, Y/N?"
The boy was caught off guard by the discouraged, beaten-down look on his partner's face, as he expected her to come home happy to have visited the team she loved so much.
"Charles, we need to talk." She spoke, her eyes still not looking at him, similar to the morning.
"I don't like that tone. Are you going to break up with me or something?" He joked nervously, trying to break the tense atmosphere between them.
However, when he looked at her, Charles understood that this was exactly what she was thinking about.
Suddenly, the weight of the velvet box he'd been keeping in his pocket seemed to have tripled.
I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money
She thinks I left them in the will
The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out
"She's laughing up at us from Hell"
After a few agonizing seconds of silence, the young woman gathered her courage and looked at the other driver, who had a terrified look on his face.
Charles felt a multitude of emotions at once; he was scared, confused, angry, desperate.
How could she try to do that to him when he was preparing to take the next step in their relationship?
"Charles, don't look at me like that." Y/N turned her tearful gaze to the ground, not having the strength to watch the boy's heart break as hers did. "It's for the best. You deserve so much. You are the best person in this whole fucking world, and I... I'm just me: talentless, worthless me. You can do so much better than-"
"Don't even dare finish that sentence." Charles threatened, lovingly grabbing the girl's face by her jaw and forcing her to look him in the eyes. "I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much. I love you more than anything and anyone in this world."
The girl couldn't hold back the sob that threatened to come out of her lips, as she shook her head in opposition to the words the Monegasque was saying.
"Just stop!" The man said, his voice rising. He leaned his forehead against hers, wiping her cheeks with one of his hands. "It's you. You're it for me, remember? You told me so, and I feel the same way about you."
"There is no one else for me. No one better than you, no one who makes me feel like you do, or who I want to spend the rest of my days with." Charles continued speaking, trying to make the girl realize how much she meant to him, desperate to change her mind.
He felt her body relax slightly against his and he knew right there: it was now or never, this was the moment for his grand romantic gesture.
Guided by his impulsiveness, Charles reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the navy blue box, setting it on the counter in front of her.
Y/N felt her breathing stop. Was that what she thought it was?
The Ferrari driver opened the small box, showing her the most perfect diamond ring inside.
"You are the love of my life, and I never doubted that for a single second. So please, make me the happiest man in the world and marry me."
It's me, hi
I'm the problem, it's me
It's me, hi
I'm the problem, it's me
It's me, hi
Everybody agrees, everybody agrees
God, she wanted to say yes.
But she couldn't. Not when he came into her life as a hero rescuing her from the world, and she... 
She was just an anti-hero in his story.
Selfishly, Y/N wanted nothing more than to accept his proposal and fall into his arms.
"Are you sure this is what you want, Charles?" The girl looked at him fearfully.
"Mon amour, just say yes and end my agony once and for all." Even in a moment like that, the man still managed to find humour in the situation, letting out a small laugh and placing a tender kiss on her lips.
Both deposited all the love they felt for each other in that kiss, getting stuck in the moment as if they were the only people in the world.
"Yes." Y/N gave in, opening her eyes surprised when she realized that word had slipped out of her mouth without her even realizing it. 
Charles smiled at her, picked her up from the floor and kissed her. And he kissed her again, and again, his lips just couldn't stay away from hers. "Yes, Charles. Yes. Yes!" She repeated, gradually becoming more and more confident.
With tears in both of their eyes and a shiny new ring around her finger, she looked at the man in front of her: a man who loved her unconditionally with all her flaws, all her struggles, and all her past.
Right then and there, Y/N knew that Charles was her true home, and she could only belong in his arms.
Maybe things weren't falling apart.
Maybe things were starting to fall into the exact places where they needed to.
It's me, hi
I'm the problem, it's me
At teatime, everybody agrees
I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
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taglist: @dan3avocado @starxqt @roseinnej @spiidergirlsworld @ccloaned @hotpigeon22 @dr3lover @lovelytsunoda @primadonnasdream @luxebeautystyle @wallfloweriism @ilivefortheleague @gwynethhberdara @satellitelh @adavenus @audreyscodes @wifeoflucyboynton @th6ccnsp6cyy @classifiedsblog @flyingmushroomss @motylekrozi @claramllera @gabrielamaex @handsupforamiracle @pierre-gasssllyy @lorenaloveslewis
@idkiwantchocolatee @simpforsunwoo @kissatelier @xweirdxsceletton @micksmidnights @miniminescapist @inchidentwithmax @hopelesslyromantics-world @alwaysclassyeagle @indieclarke @capela-miranda @okokoksblog-blog @pulpfixion @sins-only33 @sainzclerc @allisonxf1 @honethatty12
@amsofftrack @flannel-cures @junkiespromise @loudoperahumanoidpanda @honeyric3 @holy-macncheese-balls @ricciardosheart @pierreverstapkin @ravenqueen27 @majkaftorek @home-of-disaster @buendiabebeta @itgirlofnowhere @roses-of-eden @thewintersunset @rubychocolatechips
(taglist continues in the comments)
thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌
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neptunes-sol-angel · 6 months
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Title says it all! Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll down for their corresponding message.
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Pile One
What Needs Protection?
You need to be more private about the things that you're trying to manifest and any spell-work that you do. If you're in tune with your psychic abilities, then I'm getting that any plans in store for you that your spiritual team sends you messages about, KEEP THEM TO YOURSELF. It seems like anything related to the occult that you practice, needs to be discreet when it comes to family members, friends, and what you post on the internet. Knowledge is meant to be shared, but some things reside in the occult for a reason, your gifts, relationship with spirituality and the divine, is not for everyone's eyes to see or for any and everyone that you believe to be trustworthy. Even though no one can mess up what's for you in the end, protection is still needed to prevent any unnecessary drama from others trying to bring obstacles your way.
What Needs Exposure?
I feel like a lot of you are actually new in your spiritual journey and are receiving intuitive downloads or seeing more signs that remind you of someone that's no longer living, but very close with when they were still alive. Whether you are new or a little bit more seasoned in this journey there's this message to move inward in this path, some of you could still be on the superficial side of spiritualism which could be insulting to some of your guides because it's giving off the impression that you're in it for the aesthetic when there's an actual calling for you to partake in. There's a need to be more trustful with with your guides (god(s), ancestors, angels, etc) and to communicate with them more, as well leaving offerings for them. It's very important to build a connection with them instead of just leaping in with them to ask them for guidance and assistance for rituals.
Pile Two
What Needs Protection?
You need to be more protective over your time and energy! You know that quote "givers need to learn boundaries, because takers don't have any"? That's exactly the message that I'm picking up for this pile. There are attributes that you have that remind me of the sun, you're resourceful, regenerative, you create your own energy and produce your own light effortlessly that makes others gravitate towards you, but you must be careful with burning yourself out sooner with the way you're not limiting yourself on how much you give. People could rely on you for direction, money, emotional support, or even insight that they plan to take all the credit for. I'm sensing mainly that if you guys are creatives, keep your ideas to yourself, do not tell what you plan to create unless it is finished. Another is that some of you need to have more credence, you give away your visions and ideas because you don't believe you're capable of executing them yourself and you need to stop shortchanging yourself like that. I notice you guys keep saying "no" to yourself a lot on the things that could benefit you, try working on exerting that no onto the people that you should set boundaries with, especially if there's someone that you've been having a bad feeling about for awhile.
What Needs Exposure?
People in this pile have a story that needs to be shared. Whether it's autobiographical or fictional, there's something very personal that you've worked hard on in your life that needs to be public. Maybe you've triumphed over situations that would have broken other people, and the experience and wisdom that you've gained from this could inspire others who are going through situations that they feel that they won't make it out of. You may downplay what you've persevered because you it's something that you've adapted to, but what you may view as easy, can show people that when they encounter a big mountain, they don't need to be intimidated by the thought of how they're going to get over it, they just need to go around it.
Pile Three
What Needs Protection?
You're sitting on some tea that needs to be kept to yourself. Someone or a group of people could be trying to involve you in some mess, but you need to know that that drama has nothing to do with and that you need to stay out of it. Don't give in to the peer pressure of joining cliques, because that bond together out of gossiping about others, will not have long until they're turning on each other and you. If there isn't any drama that's going on, then there's a message for people in the pile who are going through a phase of wanting to impress others or do things for a person or a group who are either high in status or something else that you'd like you to be a part of. Your self esteem and individuality needs protection, do not place everybody on a pedestal or put so much of your faith into regular people. You may see yourself as the diamond in the rough thinking that you need someone or something to give yourself meaning, but that's the quickest way to fall into manipulation and a spiral of confusion about who you are.
What Needs Exposure?
Your ability to stand on your own needs more exposure. Maybe you have a parent or someone in your work/school environment that's underestimating you by believing that you're codependent and incapable of having a mind of your own with a backbone to follow it, but you gotta show these people better than you can tell them, that you're not someone to push around or someone to discredit when it comes to your accolades and the things that you've worked hard for. Maybe some of you are hesitant to make a certain move that involves parting ways with someone who's toxic towards you, but you have to acknowledge that you've lived a life before them and that you are safe and strong enough to create a life without them. And once you do, I feel like there's this boost of prosperity, positive attention, or a period of luck that you may experience as a confirmation that these people are not the reason for your success, you're blessed because you are, not because they were in your life, especially if they were creating blockages in your money and opportunities.
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emomeishibot · 16 days
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First of all, I’m a proshipper; secondly, this post has no ships in it.
I drew kuro characters as a 2000s Chinese drama costume sitcom 武林外传 My Own Swordsman (no idea why is it translate to this name, the direct translation should be Wulin Anecdotes) Why I did this crossover: it’s just hilarious for me!! To help you understand my casting read further. I was like I want to send these sketches for tumblr but you can’t get this crossover so I might as well introduce it to you. I mean you might be intrigued by the referenced show, who knows? 🤭
Let me give you an analogy if you are not familiar with Chinese Kong fu themes novels: this show is a comedy kong fu drama, and a western narrative analogy for it could be if you have a team of DND characters but they never leave the tavern but instead they are the staff trying to make the tavern successful and solve all the crazy problems in this chaotic world and become family members(I hope this works)
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The male lead character is a former Robin-hood-like legend burglar but now settled down working as the waiter; the female lead is an unmarried widow who came all the way to her fiancé only to find him dead and left her his mischievous little sister to look after, so she wiped off her tears and decided to buy the inn and start her business as the landlady right there and then. As for the little niece, rumors are that she’d grow up to be a murderous fiend…! But they don’t know yet…
So I drew Sebastian, Madame Red and Ciel as these roles🤲
y’all couldn’t have known how adorable it is for me without growing up with the show… btw the show goes for a relationship for the waiter and landlady eventually in the show but I drew them as work partners and friends^^Regarding how Madame Red teased Sebastian canonically makes me laugh remembering those early kuro shenanigans 😂I always hoped Madame stayed longer with us in canon, she so lovely. Imagine her running a tavern is such fun, the vibe of this show is crazy… just look at them
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There’s a reckless, chivalrous former swordswoman as waitress, another former constable girl who is amiable but has no dating luck as waitress as well. I casted Jane and Mey-Rin (I really want to see Jane join the Phantomhive manor(if possible after the Breton arc)??she slays and I want to see her working with Sebastian! Also Mey-Rin is both clumsier and deadlier than her character)
And more: a fusty, nerdy moderate scholar who sold the family inn to the now landlady and now working for her as an accountant, for which I casted Grelle (her butler persona when she’s undercover is really close to how this character usually is lol but she would definitely hate how nerdy this character is, as she is working for Madame Red again in this crossover)
For the hot-headed, ambitious yet bad cook who was a constable, I cast Bard (I might redo him because I wanted to fit Finny in but I run out of the inn staff; Bard and him could be the constable master and apprentice duo from the show; Diedrich could step up as chef)
The setting is a fictional ancient China so the kong fu element is very overdramatic; also, there's a lot of modern references to the 2000s. If you watch the show's op you'll get it) And it’s a nationally beloved show of my generation^^ I hope my explanation got you interested instead of confused😳but I love this crossover and hope my kuro ppl on tumblr enjoy it😌Such long explanations for them little sketches; Thank you for coming to my ted talk???
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pinchofhoney · 8 months
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Omg Dean Winchester x Reader (platonic) where Dean and Sam are on a hunt and maybe reader was kidnapped??? And when they save her, she just immediately gets attached to Dean? Like she can't leave his side and at first he's really annoyed but eventually gets used to it?
(Sorry for all of my platonic requests I just don't see enough of them 😅)
frozen fear
dean winchester x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k
warning: platonic relationship, mild swearing, one description may be disturbing to some readers, comfort
summary: Life has a way of humbling even the bravest, and it's not always a gentle lesson.
a/n: hello!! thank you so much for your request! i had a lot of fun working on it; while planning the plot i felt the same feeling i had when writing my little fiction stories before my disappearance and honestly i missed it a lot!! but, in the middle of writing, i realized that it escaped my attention that you wanted it to be just sam with dean on the hunt, so unfortunately the text i wrote will be a little different from your request:(( i'm so sorry, i hope you enjoy the story anyway!
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @one-sweet-gubler @lonelywitchv2
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gif is not mine, credit to @/justjensenanddean
You shifted onto your back, letting your tired eyes wander across the shadowy ceiling. The wall clock's relentless ticking concealed the time, but you were certain that sleep should have already claimed you by now. Resting in one of the motel's less-than-cozy beds, nestled near Telluride, Colorado, the room's silence was intermittently shattered by Dean's unrelenting snoring, which was pushing you to the brink of madness.
With a soft sigh, you raised yourself into a seated position, your hands cradling your tired face, a silent battle raging within you to resist the urge to suffocate Dean with a pillow. Your gaze darted to the sleeping Sam, then settled on Dean's back as he lay on his side.
You arrived in town alongside the Winchester brothers, ready to tackle a puzzling string of mountain disappearances. The circumstances surrounding the case remained a mystery to you, with the root cause still shrouded in uncertainty. Although you had your suspicions, you knew there was plenty of work ahead, and the prospect of a sleepless night didn't exactly lift your spirits.
You arched your head back, returning your gaze to the ceiling as another sigh escaped your lips. At last, you shifted your legs over the edge of the bed, rising to your feet. Your hand reached for one of the brothers' jackets, and with a simple motion, you exited the room. You hoped that a quick walk in the cold, fresh night air could make you sleepy. Maybe the wind will whip me into such a state that I'll lose my hearing and finally drift off to sleep, you thought slightly amused, looking for positives in this pathetic situation.
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The sun's faint morning rays began to seep through the curtains of the dimly lit motel room. Sam stirred in his bed, his sleep-laden eyes blinking open as he noticed the absence of a familiar presence beside him. He frowned and turned his head, only to find an empty bed where you had been resting just hours before.
Sam sat up abruptly, his heart racing as he scanned the room. Dean, who had been sprawled out in another bed, all this time snoring softly, was now roused by Sam's sudden movement. He blinked blearily, struggling to comprehend the situation.
“Dean!” Sam hissed urgently, his voice tinged with alarm. “Wake up! Y/N's gone!”
Dean sat up sluggishly, not entirely comprehending the commotion. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for alarm. Nobody had forcefully confined you to the room, so it seemed obvious to him that you had simply risen early for a morning stroll.
“Sam, relax,” Dean muttered, not quite grasping the gravity of the situation yet. “Y/N probably stepped out for breakfast or something. She'll be back.”
But as Sam's gaze darted around the room, he noticed something that heightened his unease. “Dean,” he said, his voice tinged with increasing concern, pointing at the empty hook where Dean's jacket should have been hanging.
Dean finally started to stir fully awake, glancing at the vacant hook, and then back at Sam. “Okay, so maybe Y/N took my jacket too. It's not a big deal.”
As Dean spoke, Sam's eyes fell upon something on the nightstand. It was your phone, usually never left behind. He grabbed it and held it up for Dean to see. “Dean, Y/N's phone is here,” Sam said with a sense of growing concern. “She wouldn't have gone anywhere without it.”
Dean's eyebrows furrowed as the realization set in. The absence of both you and your phone suddenly felt more ominous. “Alright, let's not jump to conclusions,” he said, though the unease in his voice was palpable. “We'll wait a little longer, but if she doesn't come back soon, we need to check things out and see if there's anything else strange going on.”
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
The rhythmic ticking of the wall clock served as a relentless reminder of time slipping away
Dean fought to keep his emotions in check, methodically going about his morning routine, from toothbrush to getting dressed. His emotions were simmering beneath the surface, but he was determined not to let them get the best of him.
Meanwhile, Sam perched at the table, your mobile phone resting prominently before him. His gaze remained fixed on the device, a glimmer of hope that you might soon breeze through the room door, bearing coffee and a bagel, filling the space with your familiar presence.
“It's a quarter past eight already,” Sam remarked, his eyes shifting to his brother. He leaned on the table, his fingers anxiously toying with the first signs of stubble on his chin. “We have no idea when she left,” he added with a touch of frustration.
Dean pondered the situation briefly, meeting Sam's gaze before letting out an exasperated huff. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, his annoyance clear in his expression and tone.
The mounting tension in the room finally propelled the brothers into action. Dean grabbed his flannel shirt, throwing it on, and Sam slipped your phone into his pocket before they headed toward the motel room door.
“We’ve got to figure out what’s going on,” Sam declared, his voice determined.
Dean nodded in agreement, his jaw set. “I swear I'm gonna fucking kill her if she's just making fun of us.”
As they prepared to leave, Sam hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He glanced back at the room, a glimmer of hope still flickering in his eyes. “Let's leave the door unlocked,” he said quietly, as much to reassure himself as Dean. “Just in case Y/N comes back.”
With that, they stepped out into the brisk morning, making quick strides in the direction of the parked Impala.
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You slowly regained consciousness, a disorienting haze clouding your senses. Your body ached with a piercing pain, and a strange, unpleasant feeling gnawed at you. Panic coursed through your veins as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.
It was pitch black, and you couldn't see a thing. The air was thick with a noxious stench that seemed to cling to your very skin. Your head throbbed with a dull ache, and you groaned, attempting to move, only to realize that your limbs were bound, and you couldn't feel solid ground beneath you.
Panic turned to terror as your hands met resistance above your head. You strained your neck, struggling to see what lay beyond you. And then, as your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the horrifying truth revealed itself.
You were hanging from the ceiling, head down, alongside two other lifeless bodies. Their forms dangled grotesquely, and it was clear they had been here for some time, their lifeless eyes staring into nothingness.
The realization hit you like a sledgehammer. You were trapped in a Wendigo's cave, your own fate hanging precariously above you. Your heart pounded, and terror coursed through your veins as you fought to remain as still and silent as possible, praying that the creature responsible for this nightmare wouldn't return anytime soon.
As you pored over the Winchester brothers' father's journal, your suspicions honed in on the Wendigo as the likely culprit behind the recent disappearances. Still, you couldn't help but question the accuracy of your deduction. While it was true that the brothers had successfully hunted down one of these creatures before, encountering a Wendigo in Colorado felt like a rare occurrence, far from their usual hunting grounds.
There was no room for doubt now, but finding yourself on the potential victim list hardly allowed you to relish your accurate suspicions.
Your heart raced in your chest, its thunderous beats resonating in your ears like a drumroll of dread. The blood surged to your face, turning it into a stifling mask of heat and anxiety. What made it all the more unbearable was the uncertainty, not knowing how long you'd been hanging there or when the fiendish creature might return to its lair.
Straining your ears, you listened intently for any hint of the creature's reappearance, but the stifling silence held sway.
Then, a faint yet unmistakable sound reached your ears—a distant shuffle, accompanied by muffled voices. Hope surged within you as you recognized the voices. It was Sam and Dean.
Tears welled up in your eyes as their voices drew nearer, and you struggled to rein in the overwhelming rush of relief and joy. Their flashlights cast wavering beams that danced eerily on the cave walls as they advanced cautiously.
“Y/N?” Sam's voice reverberated through the cave, laced with concern.
You managed a weak response, your voice trembling with emotion. “Here!”
Their flashlights swept over you, illuminating your precarious predicament. A mixture of shock and unwavering determination twisted their faces as they took in the horrifying scene before them.
A wave of relief washed over you like a soothing tide as Sam and Dean hurried to your side. Sam swiftly sized up the situation, his nible fingers skillfully working to free you from your bindings. With each passing moment, the suffocating grip of fear and captivity began to loosen its hold.
Dean, standing guard with unwavering vigilance, maintained a watchful eye on the cave's entrance, ensuring that the Wendigo wouldn't return to catch you in a vulnerable moment. His weapon remained poised and ready
As Sam's efforts finally set you free, you were lowered gently to the cave floor. Weak and disoriented, you clung to him, finding solace in the reassuring presence of your friends amidst the foreboding darkness that had held you captive.
With you safely on the cave floor, Sam turned his attention to your well-being, his concern etched on his face. “Y/N, are you okay? Can you stand?”
You nodded weakly, your voice quivering from a mixture of exhaustion and unease. “I think so.”
In response, Dean allowed himself a small sigh of relief, his furrowed brow smoothing out somewhat. He turned his attention back to you, his worry palpable. “Can you fill us in, Y/N? We all went to bed in the motel room, and now you're hanging in this cave. What the heck happened?”
Balancing yourself with Sam's support, you drew in a steadying breath to calm your frazzled nerves. “I don't know, Dean,” you confessed, your voice laced with a mixture of fear and frustration. “Your snoring was so deafening that I was on the brink of committing a crime. I had to escape the room for some respite, and then... Then I woke up here, like this, with no idea how I ended up in this nightmare.”
The haunting memory of that heart-stopping moment lingered in the air, causing your eyes to brim with tears once more. It was at this very moment that the full weight of the situation began to sink in—what might have befallen you, the chilling possibility of ending up like the lifeless body you had been hanging beside just moments ago.
As you gazed upon the concerned expressions of the men, the urge to reassure them that you were alright welled up within you. You only needed a little time to collect yourself. However, something beyond their shoulders seized your attention with a grip far stronger.
Your eyes widened in sheer terror, and your heart raced, momentarily clouding your thoughts with a hazy fog of panic. It took you a precious moment to summon the words, but finally, your voice found a way past your constricted vocal cords. “D-Dean!” you exclaimed with a raised voice, your trembling finger pointing emphatically toward the gaping maw of the cave entrance.
Your panicked cry pierced the cave's silence, and the Winchester brothers pivoted toward the cave entrance, their expressions shifting from concern to sheer determination.
Before your eyes, the Wendigo emerged from the shadows, its grotesque form illuminated by the flickering light of Sam and Dean's flashlights. The monster snarled, a chilling, otherworldly sound that sent shivers down your spine.
Sam and Dean wasted no time. With a practiced synchronicity born from years of hunting, they unleashed a torrent of fire upon the creature. Flames danced and crackled in the cave's depths, casting unnatural, shifting shadows.
The Wendigo roared in agony as the flames consumed it, its monstrous form writhing in torment. The stench of burning flesh and the creature's wails filled the cave, creating a nightmarish tableau of desperation.
You wanted to do something, to help the Winchesters in some way, but fear paralyzed you. You'd encountered countless demons, monsters, and shapeshifters in the past, but facing this particular breed of creature was an entirely unprecedented experience for you.
As the Wendigo was consumed by the flames, its otherworldly shrieks reached a deafening crescendo before being abruptly silenced. The once-terrifying monster was now nothing more than a pile of smoldering ashes, its threat extinguished by the relentless fire.
Sam and Dean turned to you, their expressions now radiant with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Sam extended a hand toward you, his eyes filled with understanding. “Come on, Y/N, let's get out of here.”
You nodded, your throat still tight with the remnants of fear, and took Sam's hand as he helped you to your feet. Dean followed, his grip firm on your shoulder, offering silent support.
The three of you made your way out of the cave, stepping back into the cool night air of the Colorado woods. The moon cast a pale, comforting glow upon the landscape, a stark contrast to the horrors you had just faced.
As you reached the Impala parked nearby the forest, Dean spoke, his voice tinged with weariness. “We'll head back to the motel, Y/N. You need some rest.”
Sam nodded in agreement as he opened the car door for you. “And a hot shower wouldn't hurt either.”
You climbed into the car, the leather seats offering a welcome comfort. Dean took the driver's seat, and Sam settled in beside you.
The engine roared to life, and as the Impala rumbled down the winding forest road, Sam turned to you with a small, reassuring smile. “You did great back there, Y/N. We've got your back.”
The only source of comfort during this terrible ordeal was Dean's jacket, now worn and stained. It still clung to your shoulders, providing a bit of solace. You folded your arms across your chest, embracing the jacket's familiar warmth as if it was a security blanket. Taking a deep breath, you tried to reassure yourself that the nightmare was over and you were now safe.
Recent events had shattered your belief in your own fearlessness, exposing the simple truth that you had a long way to go before you could match Sam and Dean's hunting prowess. Yet, uncertainty gnawed at you, making you question whether you were truly prepared to reach their level of expertise.
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Weeks drifted by, and the memories of the Wendigo's cave continued to haunt your every waking moment. Anxiety had taken root deep within you, coiling around your thoughts like a relentless serpent. To cope, you found solace in staying as close to Dean Winchester as possible, as if his presence alone could shield you from the lingering horrors.
However, this newfound need for constant presence began to grate on Dean's nerves. He valued his personal space and independence, and your persistent closeness was beginning to wear on him.
One evening, as you shadowed his every move in the bunker, Dean couldn't help but voice his frustration. “Y/N,” he began, his tone laced with irritation, “I appreciate you being cautious, but you don't have to be glued to my side every second.”
Your eyes widened, and you stammered a response, “I-I'm just trying to be safe, Dean. You know, in case something happens again.”
Dean sighed, his irritation softening into understanding as he looked at you. He leaned in closer, his voice gentle but firm. “Y/N, I know you're scared, and it's okay to be cautious. But you have to remember, we're hunters. Our lives are filled with risks, and we've faced worse than that Wendigo together.”
He continued, his eyes locking onto yours, “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you, but you also have to take care of yourself. Being a hunter means facing fear head-on, and sometimes that means standing on your own two feet.”
You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. Dean was right; you couldn't let fear rule your life forever.
With Dean's words echoing in your mind, you began to make a conscious effort to rely on yourself more. There were moments when you found the courage to try out on your own, even if it was just for a short while, to confront the remnants of your fear. Gradually, you felt a glimmer of your old, independent self resurfacing.
But there were still times when the weight of anxiety bore down on you, and in those moments, you sought solace in Dean's presence. You found comfort in his unwavering support and understanding. He noticed your struggles and approached them with patience and acceptance.
Instead of pushing you away when you clung to him, Dean embraced your need for reassurance. He let you lean on him when the anxiety became overwhelming, understanding that healing was a gradual process. Whether it was a reassuring word, a comforting touch, or simply his silent presence, Dean was there for you.
You both found a balance. You were getting better at facing your fears, and Dean was getting better at being there when you needed support.
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hihello-pinky · 1 year
Text
Sight (2)
Suna Rintarou x F! Reader
Sometimes, it takes losing someone to finally see them. He wished he knew this before, but Rintarou had to learn this the hard way. 
WARNINGS: mentions of abortion, mentions of miscarriage (NO SMUT IN THIS PART!)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This is no way represents my views of the original anime/manga characters.
WC: 3.3k Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort Other Tags: Forced Marriage, Developing Relationship, Denial of Feelings, Emotionally Repressed, References to Illness, Angst with a Happy Ending, + more to be added.
I know I mentioned I’m working on having a longer part 2 but I kinda like where this ended. Thank you all for waiting and for the love and support!!!
part one part two part three part ???
leave me love?
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Looking back to it, everything happened so fast. As soon as your friends forced Suna’s name out of your mouth after they found out you’re pregnant, they pulled all their connections to get the two of you to meet... Only for him to question the fatherhood of your child. That’s when you first met Osamu Miya. You did not know back then that he was Rintarou’s best friend and as devastated as you were, you spilled your problems to him.
That’s how you found yourself next in the most stressful weeks of your life. Mr. and Mrs. Suna telling you that you are to wed their son. Rintarou telling you that you should get an abortion. And several nosy people telling you that you are a whore who got herself pregnant to get into the rich Suna family.
You tried to refuse the marriage, telling the couple (who, unlike their son, were the sweetest people you’ve met) that there’s no need for a marriage, you just need support to raise your child. They of course wouldn’t have it, and you knew it’s partly because they wanted to punish their son. You admittedly entertained the thoughts of getting an abortion but you just couldn’t do it... not after watching your sister struggle with multiple miscarriages in the past. And with the people spreading malicious things about you... you tried to ignore them, until a few days before the marriage where the gossips suddenly stopped.
Marrying Suna Rintarou brought a lot of changes in your life. First of all, you had to forego the post-graduate internship that was offered to you at the end of your senior year. Second, you had to move to a house gifted by his parents, which caused a rift between you and your sisters since you initially promised them that you’d be living with and helping them. And lastly, you had to live with Rintarou, who explicitly lets you know that he blames you for the forced marriage.
Another surge of headache breaks you out of your reverie. You straighten on your seat in the hospital lobby, waiting for the doctor’s secretary to call you. You had dropped off the kids at Sacha’s place right after confirming with the receptionist that there’s an available slot for a check-up. Last night, right after Rin left, you had a terrible headache, much the same as the ones you’ve been having for the past few weeks.
You look at the queuing monitor and notice that there are still a handful of people before your turn. You open your bag to get your Kindle but it grazes the leather bind of your journal. You must have taken it with you when you took your reading device from the bedside drawer. And just as you’re always inclined to do, you flip to the already dog-eared pages and read through your journal entries from years ago. It’s time to relive the memories.
You were in your fourteenth week of pregnancy. The new house’s backyard was as empty as you felt for the last two months of living with your new husband. He would wake up early and arrive home late. Thankfully, you have managed to befriend the housekeepers, Yuto and Jiri. It was one evening, though, that neither of them was home since the former was on leave while the latter was sick.
The clock struck ten and the main door opened, revealing Rintarou who looked visibly unwell. You rushed to him and he tried to swat you away, only for you to feel how his skin was burning. He must have been feeling too sick because after two more attempts, he finally let you help him into his bed.
That night, you nursed him to the best of your abilities, from changing his clothes to wiping his face with cold cloth. You even cooked soup for him, feeding him as his hands were shaking too much. As you were about to leave his room so you could go back to the spare one where you have been staying since you two moved in, his rough voice stopped you. “Stay.”
Your eyes widened, unsure if you heard him right. “Are you...?”
He groaned. “Or call Jiri. I need her.”
“She’s sick,” you replied. “I’ll just stay... if that’s okay with you?”
He was quiet for a while. “Okay.”
That night, you ended up staying with Rintarou, sitting beside his bed and barely getting any sleep. It went on for two more days. When you woke up on the fourth morning, you were surprised to find a blanket on top of you, much less feel the softness of a mattress below you.
You jolted awake and was surprised to see Rintarou sitting up with his back leaning against the bedframe and talking to someone on the phone. “Thanks, Kita. Yes, I’m feeling better. I’ll be back in the office tomorrow.” He must have noticed you staring at him for he turned his head towards you, the look on his face unreadable. “Call me when something urgent comes up. I have to go.” After dropping the call, he moved to stand up.
“Are you okay?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
“Weren’t you eavesdropping?” He shot back. “I’m feeling better. Jiri’s coming in today by the way, no need to make your pathetic attempts of forcing yourself into my business.” Suna didn’t even spare you a glance before he marched off to his bathroom.
Despite the two months of living with him, his actions towards you still managed to hurt. You gulped and moved to stand up from the bed, knowing too well that Suna would want nothing but to see his room void of you once he comes back.
Two days later, you found yourself with a flu. You begged Jiri not to tell Suna or his parents. But alas, you should have known better that while she had become your friend, her loyalty was still with the Suna family.
On the third night of your flu, you heard a knock on your door. It was odd since it was way past Jiri’s and Yuto’s hours of duty. Sighing, you forced yourself from your bed, wrapping the fluffy blanket around your body.
I must be delirious, was your first thought as you saw Suna at the other side of the door.
“Did something happen?” You asked, trying to hold back a cough, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
He looked every bit uncomfortable as he handed you a paper bag. “Here.”
You reluctantly received it and peeked inside. Care package. You looked up at him questioningly. “What’s this for?”
He broke the eye contact and mumbled something.
“Sorry? What did you say?”
He let out an annoyed sigh and forced himself to look at you eye to eye. “Jiri told me you were sick and that you probably got it from me. She scolded me that I shouldn’t have asked you to stay in the same room because it’s risky for pregnant people.” His eyebrows furrowed. “What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing,” you replied but you knew your smile was still on your face. “You didn’t have to go out of the way to give me this, you know.”
“Then what the fuck was I supposed to do? Jiri would have never let me hear the end of it.”
“Hmm... could have just said ‘sorry’, maybe?”
Suna rolled his eyes and opened his hand, palm up. “Forget it, then. Give that back.”
You clutched the care package against your chest. “No way! No taking back, this is mine already!” Before you knew it, a giggle escaped your lips. You immediately froze, realizing it was Suna you were talking to. However, when you dared to look at him, there’s a barely noticeable hint of a smile on his lips, the atmosphere between the two of you warm. “Good night, Y/N.”
It’s only when the sound of his footsteps have receded that you realized what happened: he just called you by your first name.
“Mrs. Y/N Suna?” The secretary’s voice brings you back to the present. “Please enter room 125.”
You gather your things and make your way into your doctor’s office. She greets you with a warm smile. “How are you doing, Y/N?” The doctor asks as soon as you’ve settled down on your seat. “You haven’t visited in a while.” Megumi Hirai is a nice lady who’s in her early forties and you’ve taken a liking to her in the past few years. “I take it you’ve been busy?”
You nod. “It was the kids’ birthday party yesterday. There was a lot of preparation that needed to be done.”
“Oh, that’s nice. How old are they now?”
“Five,” you smile proudly. “I feel like they’re growing up too fast. I want them to stay little for just a little bit longer.”
At that, Dr. Hirai laughs. “Every parent experience that. I see no reason for you to worry though, you’re still young. Isn’t it about time that you and Rintarou try for another child?”
The smile on your lips drops a little. “We’re too busy for that this time, I think.”
Sensing that you want to change the subject, Dr. Hirai moves on to another topic. “How’s work going?”
“Great,” you reply. “A bit stressful, but it’s all good.” Despite the Suna family saying there’s no need for you to work, you still got yourself a job at a local publishing company. You’ve been loyal to it, and now you’re one of the head editors.
You’ve always been passionate about writing and editing; you could say you were depressed when you had to let go of the internship at the global publishing company because of the sudden pregnancy. The memories of you sharing that to Rin and him reluctantly helping you find a job poke at your head.
You will yourself to stay at the present. “I’m still happy with my job.”
“That’s nice to hear.” Dr. Hirai smiles. “What’s your concern, then?”
“I’ve been having these extreme headaches for the past few weeks. Sometimes they last long, sometimes they pass quickly. The other night, I think I passed out.”
The doctor hums. “Any other symptoms?”
“Um, I can’t think of any…”
“Have you noticed any trend on the times when they surge?”
You shake your head no. “Not really. I honestly don’t think it’s serious but they’ve been becoming more frequent lately.”
“Okay.” Dr. Hirai says, pulling out some papers. “I’ll be requesting for you to undergo some tests. Have them done as soon as possible so you can schedule another checkup with me.”
“Thank you, doctor.” You take the request forms.
“You’re welcome,” Dr. Hirai smiles kindly. “And Mrs. Suna?”
“Yes?“
“Don’t downplay the headaches you’re experiencing. You never know if they’re actually underlying symptoms of something serious. Have a nice day.”
 --------
“I’m sorry to be saying this, but you don’t look too well.” Osamu Miya is placing the take-out rice balls you had just bought in the paper bags as he alternately looks between his task at hand and you, who’s sitting at the counter.
You had decided to drop by his restaurant before picking up the kids from Sacha. His statement makes you bite your lip. “Is it that obvious?”
“That you look like you had no sleep and cried your eyes out for hours?” Osamu asks in reply, then takes a deep breath. “Yes.” The gray-haired man shakes his head. “Rin is so fucking stupid. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize on behalf of him, Osamu,” you say. “He’s your best friend but his actions are all his own choices.”
The twin keeps quiet for a while as he finishes packing your order. In the meantime, you rub your fingers against your temple, symptoms of a headache beginning to manifest again. You close your eyes, hoping it goes away. Once you open them, you see Osamu staring intently at you. “I have a confession to make,” he says.
This piques your interest and you lean a little bit forward. “What is it?”
“It’s all my fault,” Osamu says, gulping. “After that first night we met, I went to Rin’s parents and told them what happened. He initially confided in me that he got someone pregnant and I wasn’t planning on getting involved until I met you. You were nice and kind, I couldn’t let Rintarou to just fuck up your life.
“I thought once he gets married, once he gets to know you... he’d grow and change. But I was wrong.” His eyes are now filled with guilt and apology. “I’m sorry, Y/N. If I had known that Rin wouldn’t change one bit during the past five years – ”
“Stop,” you cut him off, no longer wanting to hear more. “That’s all in the past now.” You contemplate your next words carefully. “Besides, it’s not like Rin was completely horrible to me during the time we’ve been together.”
Osamu’s voice is filled with curiosity. “What do you mean?”
It’s at that exact moment that the door of the restaurant swings opens and someone enters, your heart dropping once you see who it is.
Suna Rintarou. Your husband.
 -------
 Suna hasn’t seen you since the night before and he definitely wasn’t expecting to see you here at Osamu’s restaurant. Once you face him, he immediately notices the redness of your eyes that your makeup wasn’t able to cover. He chooses not to think about the reason behind them.
“Hey, Rin,” his friend waves at him from behind the counter. “Y/N is here.”
He rolls his eyes as he stalks toward the counter. “I’m not blind, ‘Samu.” He takes the stool next to yours and immediately notices you tense. He inwardly sighs, remembering what happened last night. He turns to face you and gets a little surprised when he sees you gathering your purse and the paper bag from the counter.
“I have to go. Bye, Osamu! Thank you for these!” And in a moment, you’re out the door.
As soon as you’re gone, he feels his best friend’s curious eyes on him. “What? Gonna ask me to go run after her?”
Osamu rolls his eyes. “As if you would.”
While his friend is right, the statement still annoys Suna. “Why was she here, anyway?”
“As if you care.”
He tries to mask his annoyance as he clenches his jaw. “You’re, right. I don’t.”
There’s a beat of silence before Osamu speaks again. “Why are you here, Rin?”
Truth be told, Suna’s agenda was to force Osamu to join him on a night of drinking where he may or may not tell him about what happened last night. But seeing you here... and then Osamu’s rather irritating replies... “Forget it, I’m leaving.”
“Did you and Y/N fight?” His friend’s question makes him stiffen.
Suna rolls his eyes. “We often argue. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Osamu replies rather curtly. “But this time, it seems as if you’ve crossed the line.”
To his own surprise, Suna replies with, “Yeah, I think so.”
He doesn’t need to look at his friend’s face to see the surprise on it. “Wow, that’s a lot... coming from you. What happened? Please don’t tell me you hit her.”
He glares at the man. “I’m an asshole but I would never lay a hand on a woman, even if I hate her.”
“Why do you hate her, Rin?” Osamu asks. “What has she ever done to you? You still have your job and inheritance; you can still fuck around... I know she doesn’t demand much from you about the kids. In fact, she got the short end of the stick. Why do you hate Y/N?”
Instead of answering his friend’s questions, Rin adjusts his position on the stool and makes a fist against the counter. “She confessed to me last night.”
“And what did you say?” Osamu’s voice begins to become unreadable.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Suna shrugs. “We were having an argument so I figured she was just trying to fuck with my head.”
There’s a short silence that follows but it’s long enough to make him feel uncomfortable.
“Are you really that blind?” Suna prefers it if his best friend is shouting at him at the moment. But alas, Osamu sounds so calm and everyone knows that Osamu Miya is ten times scarier when he’s acting calm during moments that would call for him to be mad.
“What do you want to hear as my answer?” Does Osamu want him to admit that all these years, he thought your hurt towards his treatment was solely because you wanted to have a happy little family? That he didn’t think you actually fell for him in those few months that you were in good terms? But, admitting those would mean he needs to tell Osamu about that time, those five months where he opened his heart to you. Those five months that he never dared tell anyone.
“Jesus Fucking Christ, Suna!” Osamu slams a hand against the counter, anger and frustration evident in his voice. “Anyone with an eye can see that Y/N is in love with you! Though it remains a mystery to me how she managed to fall for a dickhead like you, it’s clear that she loves you!”
Other explicit things leave Osamu’s mouth and Suna just stays there and takes them all. Once his friend is only heaving deep breaths, he begins to talk. His turn. “You asked why I hate her. Well, my answer is short.” He mentally sighs and, finally deciding it’s due time for Osamu to know, says the name that haunts him to this day.
Osamu’s eyes widen. “You mean...?”
“Yeah.”
He watches as a conflicted look dawns on his friend’s face. “Do you understand me now?”
“Kind of.” His friend’s gaze hardens a bit. “But you do know you’re being unfair to Y/N, right?”
Suna stands from the seat, retrieving the cigarette box from his pocket. “I know.” As he walks the short distance from Osamu’s restaurant to his car, all Suna can think about is, And I think maybe it’s about time I should apologize to her.
  ------
You’re inside the bedroom, just finishing up changing the sheets. Ever since Jiri left three years ago and you and Rintarou never hired someone new, you’ve been in charge of keeping the house tidy. In reality, you just had changed the sheets a week prior but what happened four nights ago just makes you want to change them, hoping that as they come clean, so does your relationship with Rintarou.
It’s been three days since the fight and oddly enough, Rintarou comes home on time and even doesn’t complain about sharing the bed. He barely acts as if you exist, cementing your belief that confessing to him was a totally wrong move. However, there are times when you feel him staring at you, as if he wants to tell you something...
You shake your head, reminding yourself that there are lots of things to do. First of all, the test results that you got yesterday after having the necessary check-ups from the day before. Second, the papers you have requested after a long call that you had last night.
You’re too engrossed in your thoughts that you fail to notice that Rin has entered your room. He’s wearing his work clothes which always make him look ten times more attractive. You straighten on the bed and try to look at his eyes. To your surprise, he meets your gaze. “We need to talk.” You both say at the same time.
You bite your lower lip, and seeing as he’s not saying anything, you take it as a cue that he’s allowing you to speak first. So, with a deep breath, you say the words you’ve been practicing in the shower this morning. “I want to file for divorce.”
TO BE CONTINUED.
641 notes · View notes
imnotjaesblog · 9 months
Text
With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility…And Head
Tumblr media
(Found this image on Pinterest)
Starring: Mark Lee
Warnings: Smut, Slight Angst, Fluff (Towards the end). Oral, Fingering, Penetration, They fuck on top of a building, Mark is his dorky self but switches it up.
Words: 1.5k
MINORS DO NOT READ!
STAY AWAY MINORS!
I do not own the rights to Spider-Man this is purely fiction. Mark Lee in this short story is also part of a work of fiction and should not be taken literal or be determined as truth. I do not know Mark personally and have created a fictional universe in which this Mark exist. This is solely for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken as authentic to his character or the original spider man character.
Mark’s Lee actions in this story should not be taken as genuineness.
(Basically saying Mark isn’t Spider-Man, this isn’t real so don’t be to delusional it hurts your mental. But if you are how would I know)?
Enjoy :)
Y/n is a film major at NYU. She constantly makes small films about New York. What it’s like to be a kid in NYC, a broke college student to be more exact. However, after a strange encounter one night where you filmed a fight between Spider-Man and a known supervillain you got caught in the middle. Spider-Man saved you and placed you in an empty alleyway.
You watched from afar catching the fight on camera. Once the fight was over you hid behind a dumpster as Spider-Man swung down into the dark alleyway. He looked around before letting out a breath. You figured he was just checking to see if you left then he would swing off so you kept your camera rolling.
That was until he pulled off his mask and revealed his face. In your state of shock you almost dropped your camera. The noise you made caught his attention. He went over to you stunned. This ended up leading to a closer friendship that soon turned into a relationship.
Present Day Y/n- I swear if you show up late again I’ll kill you Mark 💗- I promise I’ll be there Y/n- You said that last time and you missed the entire film. Mark💗- Dude I promise I’ll be there soon. Don’t be mad at me:) Y/n- Whatever. I better see you here soon! Mark 💗- Relax I can see your apartment from up here Y/n- Well then hurry up and get down. You waited in your bedroom with your projector on flashing the thumbnail to your short film. This film was a documentary, particularly about different ways different women live in New York City.
Some lived in Town Houses. Others lived in tiny shoe box-shaped apartments and others lived skyscrapers touching the sky. You were so fascinated by all these women so you made a film about them. You just wanted Mark to be the first one to see it. He had missed your last short film about a short story on mental health. You ended up showing it to your brother who was too young to truly understand the meaning of the film. He clapped anyway though. Now you waited leg bouncing on your bed as you kept looking towards your unlocked window with the curtains pulled back. You could see the sun starting to set fading behind a bunch of buildings. When five minutes past you sighed head falling back and leaning against the wall.
“Typical,” you said to yourself. Mark was always late. He was late to your first date, to the screening of your first movie, to your second date, to pick up your dog, to pick up your cake, to help take care of your brother, and even to your third date.
You were never super angry with Mark. After all, Spider-Man was saving people’s lives, including your own. So you understood why he was always late. But it still hurt.
Just as you went to shut down your protector you heard a flop on your bed. You looked over seeing Mark dressed in normal clothes sitting crossed on your bed. His backpack is on the ground next to his Spider-Man mask hanging out. You couldn’t help but smile. He was so handsome. You pushed your hand on his leg causing one of his legs to fall off your bed. He touched your hand.
“Come on don’t be mad at me,” he said using a much calmer cuter tone of voice. Dancing on your heartstrings. His eyes followed your face seeing you avoided his gaze.
“Seriously don’t be mad baby. I told you I’d come and I’m here now,” he said with a pleading tone. He didn’t like upsetting you, but he hated disappointing you. It’s the one thing he feared. He knew he couldn’t be perfect for you, so he did his best to be the best he could be in other things. Punctuality is where he failed.
“Your thirty minutes late. I have to make dinner for my brother soon,” you said with a disappointed sigh. You were annoyed Mark had missed your movie again, but you were angry. You let go of his hand and stood up mixing up your bun. You walked over to the opposite side of your room turning off your projector.
Mark followed you with sad eyes. Standing up from your bed it made a creak. He walked over to your side converse stepping across the floor. “Look I’m sorry. It’s just these guys at the bank-“
“It’s okay,” you said with your back turned closing down your laptop. “I understand that Spider-Man comes first. The people need you to keep them safe. I can’t argue with that,” you said shutting down your laptop and putting it to charge. You walked over to your bedroom door sliding on your slippers.
“My brother has to be hungry by now. If you want you can stay in here and relax I know it’s been a long day,” you said before closing the door and not looking back. Mark sighed letting out all the air in his body. He had to make it up to you somehow. And that night he did.
Once you finished cooking for your brother and your sister came home Mark took your hand guiding you to your window. You knew he would jump out with you in his arms and take you somewhere away from your home. He grabbed his backpack placing your camera inside. He zipped it closed putting his mask over his face.
“Are you sure? My siblings are in the living room,” you said standing on the ledge. Mark chuckled wrapping his arm around your waist. “They’ll be fine trust me, your sister is old enough to watch him,” he said spraying a web from his arm to a nearby building. “Hold on,” he said causing your grasp on his collar to tighten. He swung forward and it felt like your face was flying back. Teeth nearly exposed from how fast you were traveling.
With every swing and spray it felt like he traveled higher up the buildings. The night sky fell on the two of you. City lights guided your way to wherever Mark was taking you. You assumed he was taking you to your normal spot where the two of you went to be alone. Even if the spot was high above the people (and quickly dangerous for you) it was a great place to hide from the world even if it was in plain sight.
He swung past some cars and then some birds. People look up at the sky taking out their phones to capture Spider-Man live in person to show to their friends and followers. You smiled enjoying the breeze you felt after such a humid and disgusting day. However, you didn’t always enjoy these. The first couple of times you traveled around with Mark you came close to coughing up your lunch. You eventually got used to the swinging and appreciated the time more than dread it.
When you finally landed it was in the spot you assumed. A ledge of an older building looking over millions of homes and thousands of people. Even at this time, the city was still alive.
Mark took out your camera handing it to you. “I know this is your favorite view,” he said turning it on. You snapped a couple of photos and then recorded some shots soon pointing the camera over to Mark who still wore his mask. He didn’t notice at first feet dangling off the side and eyes focused on the people below. “Say hi,” you said getting his attention.
He smiled and waved at your camera. Then he stood up jumping off the building, it always made your heart jump. He swung around and you caught it all on film. He even walked on one of the statues hanging upside down. You both laughed seeing him make funny poses in the air until he got tired and sat back down beside you. You placed your camera down putting it away.
“Y/n Im sorry about today. I wanted to see your video “
“It’s okay Mark,” you tried to say.
“No it’s not,” he shook his head taking off his mask. He took your hands in his. “I don’t want to be that guy who always shows up late. You're always there when I need you and I’m always minutes or hours behind. I know you need someone to give you that kind of comfort. Being able to see that person in the crowd. I want to give you that and I do, even if it’s from blocks and streets away. Even if you can’t see me I’m there with you all the time. I’m not gonna promise to always be early or on time, sometimes I may not even show up,” He said getting sidetracked.
“Point is I love you dude and I’m always here for you and supporting you even if you don’t see me standing in the front row. I always got your back,” he said placing a kiss on your knuckles. He left your hand close to his face rubbing his head into your hand. He looked at you with the most adoring eyes. This man did love you. You never doubted his love for a second. It’s nice to know as well he’s got you the way you got him.
Small beats of silence passed before he leaned in and kissed you just below your ear taking in a whiff of your scent. You smelled so sweet like usual. He hummed placing another kiss in the same spot just to take in your scent again. When he lingered there for too long you moved your neck back exposing more of your skin to him. He could sense the tingling you felt in your body when he kissed you. He could sense the wetness that started to pool in your panties. He didn’t care he was about to touch you on top of a high building with millions of people below, he needed to take care of his girl.
He turned your head placing his lips on yours. Holding you close to him he pulled you by your waist. He kissed his way down your jaw placing wet kisses on your skin. “Mark…the people,” you said through breaths. You looked to your left seeing the edge. People were so far away they looked like ants. All the buildings nearby had their windows closed and locked, some even had curtains concealing the inside. “They don’t matter, they can’t see us,” he said through a low groan once he started kissing the tops of your breast that pooled out of how tight your was bra.
He unzipped your oversized hoodie pulling the zipper down and tossing the fabric to the side leaving you in a white u cut t-shirt. He said usher your breast together hands covered in his spider costume. He sucked the top of your tits molding them together in his palms. Your head fell back feeling when your juice slipped out of you. Mark knew your juice was slipping to and bucked his hips forward like a dog in heat. The imprint of his large cock showed on his tight costume. The costume outlined every detail of Mark. His abs, his muscles, the v-line that traveled to his cock. You licked your lips leaning out to touch his cloth skin.
He pulled your shirt off your head exposing your bra, he ripped that off throwing it away. It landed dangling off the building and began to slip off falling off the ledge. Luckily Mark noticed a webbed it back into place.
He engulfed his mouth around your nipple sucking and licking and even biting on the pebble of skin. Your back arched, holding his head close your finger ran through his hair. You pulled on his locks tightly causing him to groan hips still bucking into your thigh. “Mark touch me, do something,” you pleaded feeling him let you go with a pop of his mouth. He laid you flat placing your hoodie under you. Taking your cotton shorts I’m his hand he slipped them down placing them next to your bra. He kissed your plush thighs, kneading the skin in his hands. He sucked and kissed his way from your thighs to the outer parts of your pussy. Groaning at the sight of the way your pussy sucked onto your fabric from how wet you are. “Fuck baby, so wet just for me,” he praised finger tracing the outline of your clothed pussy. You squirmed wanting something more from him. “Mark,” you moaned softly trying to get his attention. He was locked on your pussy. Eyes lost in the way you clenched around nothing. The cool air started to tickle you in the best way possible, the coolness feeling good on your hot core. You picked your hips up swirling yourself in his face. His eyes enlarged hands eagerly grabbing hold of your hips and removing your black panties. He sent a long lick to your clit. Then another watching your little reactions.
Your moans got caught in your throat as he licked you slowly. He leaned closer fingers spreading you apart and arm keeping you down. He spread your legs diving into your pussy. Licking quickly on your bundle of nerves your head fell back almost hitting the marble. Mark’s tongue swerved around like a starved madman. He abused your clit with his tongue sucking hard. Fingers that spread you apart made their way down to your hole, teasing your entrance. His finger soaked in your glistening wetness he easily slipped inside you.
Their finger slowly moved into matching the new speed on his tongue. Letting you adjust to the rhythm he started to move faster. Watching and loving the way your body squirmed around for him. The look on your face is full of pleasure. Brows furrowed, eyes closed and mouth open moans slipping out from between your lips while he fucked your pussy so good with his fingers and tongue. He couldn’t help but watch you as he abused and cherished your body. “Fuck Mark,” you groaned hand leading down to his dark locks. Grabbing hold you pushed his hair back exposing his forehead. You held onto his hair tightly seeing a few veins form on his head as you squeezed around his fingers and pulled his hair.
He groaned into your pussy fingers moving quickly following the flow of his tongue. “Fuck baby you taste so good,” he praised spitting on your pussy. He swirled his salvia around with his thick tongue causing your body to arch off the building. Sweat poured down your body, Mark’s as well. You could feel the beads of sweat forming especially around the back of your neck. Sweat formed on top of Mark’s forehead twin fingers from below pounding into you his bicep flexing hard.
“Fuck Mark I’m gonna cum,” you said moaning loudly. From up here you could be as loud as you wanted. No one would find you or Mark from here. You were so high up that you could touch the clouds. Floating in the air millions of people below you. You and Mark were completely alone.
“Fuck baby you wanna cum? You wanna cum all over my fingers?” Mark teased pulling back with his tongue abandoning you. He pulled his fingers out too leaving you hot and unsatisfied. You leaned up on your elbows watching as Mark removed his suit. “Mark,” you whined seeing how sweaty his body was underneath the tight suit. “Relax baby I’ll take care of you,” he said with a smirk as he placed his suit to the side. When he turned to you, you could get a much better angle of his body.
The torso is built and lean. Abs and different lines are carved out onto his body. A certain v-shaped that formed just below his stomach leading to his dick. The sweat that the suit created and mixed with the glow you both received from the setting sun made his body glisten. Biceps well and defined and hands veiny. His jet-black hair sticks in all kinds of places courtesy of your hands. Some little strains sticking to his forehead. Chin and lips covered in your juice shining and sparkling thanks to the sun.
You couldn’t help it. He looked like an absolute dream. You leaned your body over grabbing hold of his face turning his head and planting a passionate kiss onto his pink lips. He wasted no time in kissing you back. Both pairs of hands roam the other's body. Exploring every outline and curve of the other. Lips on lips and hands on hands feeling his muscular, lean shoulders and well-defined jaw in the cups and fingertips of your hands.
He did the same hands grabbing hold of your waist and pulling you closer to him. Squeezing and kneading your skin. Hands traveling south to your ass grabbing hold of the plush skin. He molded the cups of your butt in his hands groaning at the feeling of how soft you are. You smelled amazing pulling him into your lips every time just to continue to taste you. Your body is just as hot as is, completely on fire.
You could feel his hardness still covered by his boxers. You pulled his closer rubbing your wet pussy against his clothed dick. He groaned squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to him enjoying your wet pussy soaking his cock that hadn’t even been exposed yet. “Fuck Y/n,” he cursed groaning and head falling back as you rutted your hips harder into his hardening cock.
“You feel so fucking good and I haven’t even fucked you yet,” he praised placing a wet kiss on your lips. Your lips met his breaking the kiss for a moment to let out a sigh. His tip poked at your clit circling the nerves.
You pulled back, he slipped off his underwear sliding it down his muscular thighs and legs placing it to the side. He laid back sliding your pussy up and down his cock. He couldn’t get enough. He loved watching the way you glided so effortlessly on his dick. Your wetness and his pre cum created the perfect slip so that you could slide so easily on him. Having enough, however, you halted his movements rising. Your hands found his dick, his breath caught in his throat feeling your hands wrapped around him.
You aligned yourself above his dick, it meeting your entrance. You slowly slide down both of you not letting out a long breath until you sat perfectly on his cock. Slowly you moved both of you coming up with a rhythm that worked both ways. Once you found it you moved faster bouncing on his cock. You could hear the squish of your pussy. “Fuck Y/n…you feel so tight,” Mark praised through an earthy groan. His head fell back slightly arching at the feeling of your pussy wrapping around his length and swallowing him up.
He leaned his head forward grabbing a tight hold onto your hips. He rutted his hips upwards quickly causing the entire top half of your body to bounce. You let a series of moans spill from your lips. Eyes closing shut enjoying the feeling of Mark completely ruining you.
Your head fell back, lip in between your teeth, beads of sweat spilling down your chest. Mark watched this play out and fell even more in love with you. Your glistening body matched with the sun, you glowed in front of him. He sat forward taking his hand and placing it on your chin turning to face him. “Open your eyes, baby, wanna see how good you look when I fuck you,” he smirked watching your eyes open. Already in a daze, your eyes were half opened. You wrapped your arms around Mark’s neck bouncing on his cock.
Soon he flipped you both over taking you from behind. His hand ran down the arch of your wet back. Fingers spreading apart your pussy. He dragged his index finger through your folds collecting some of your wetness and then pushing it into your hole. You moaned at the feeling, even if it wasn’t the fullness you wanted it was something and it was Mark giving you that something.
He replaced his fingers with the head of his cock. Sliding it through your folds coating his dick. Taking the base in his veiny hands he pushed it inside you both of you letting out a pleased sigh. Moans spilled from your lips all over again as Mark pounded into you from behind. He spread your legs using his knee allowing more room for him to fully explore your velvet walls. Mark continued his assaults on your guts and pounded into you quickly and hard. Hand reaching around to rub your clit.
You caught your lip between your teeth. Seeing a few pigeons fly away once you moan out loud. Mark leaned forward mouth pressed against your neck. All his quiet groans and moans didn’t go unnoticed by you. Every single sound spilling into your ears, he sounded so perfect. Your groans and words of praise were the same sounded song to Mark as well.
“Mark you feel so fucking good,” you praised through groans and gritted teeth. You could feel your body become even more sticky, Mark’s as well. You clenched around him hearing the squish sound your pussy made because of how wet he made you. “Fuck Mark harder,” you pleaded feeling Mark's grip on your waist tightens. “Fuck Mark,” you moaned tears forming in your eyes.
“Fuck baby what do you need?” He asked feeling his orgasm approaching. Your grip on your lip losses moans spilling out from your abused lips. You slightly turned your head seeing his body on full display. Hand tight on your waist, his biceps flexing and abs covered in your juice and mixed with his sweat. You turned your head back moaning out loud again. You could feel the tightness in your stomach, you were seconds away from spilling on his cock.
“I’m gonna cum baby,” Mark said groaning into your ear. When he released inside you he let out the most pornographic sounds, even whimpering in your ear reminding you of how good you make him feel, how perfect you are for him.
He pulled out spinning you around and laying your flat mouth immediately on your clit. He engulfed the bud in his mouth not teasing you anymore and sucked hard and fast on your nub. Your eyes widened from how fast he flipped you over and tasted you so perfectly after fucking you so good. Your hands ran down your body taking his dark locks in your hand, pulling his face close to your pussy. Your clit grinding on his nose. He groaned to your pussy loving the way you taste, he also loved pleasing you.
“Fuck Mark I’m so close,” you moaned hand covering your lips. Even if you were on one of the tallest buildings you never know who could be listening. “Mark please,” you pleaded he spread your folds apart with his finger focusing so hard on your clit. You felt the knot in your stomach start to unfold. You came hard spilling all over his mouth and chin. Mark remained there sucking and licking every drop you released.
When he pulled back the entire bottom half of his face was covered in your cum. He licked around his lips, even taking his finger and wiping it under his chin, sucking your juice off his index and middle finger. Doing the slutiest thing a man could do. It made you want him all over again.
You leaned up and kissed him passionately holding him close to your body. Your hand felt up and down his chest, guiding itself to his hardening sensitive cock. He pulled away holding you in his arms. “Woah Woah you wanna go again?” He asked a shy smile on his lips. His eyes locked with yours. “Why do you want to stop?” You teased moving closer to him being extremely touchy. He shook his head placing a kiss on your neck. “Of course not, how could I say no to you?” He said through a whisper placing a couple more kisses on your neck.
“But,” he began making you groan. “Not here. It’s getting dark and I’d rather take you home first,” he said letting you go only to help you get dressed. You didn’t argue with him and watched as he quickly put on his suit. He held you close by your waist. You held onto his arm tightly. “It's getting late. Spend the night at my place ?” You asked with a warm smile. He thought about it with his mask half on only lips on display. His aunt would kill him if he was gone. But you were worth it. So he smiled placing a slow, sensual kiss on your lips. You both pulled back eyes still closed, a dazed smile on his face.
“I’ll tell my aunt I’m with Johnny,” he said before you pulled his mask down and jumped off the roof swinging back to your house.
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Fin
I hope you enjoyed this, I thought of this randomly one night and it turned into a month-long project. I am thrilled to finally be putting this out, it’s just been sitting in my drafts collecting dust.
I truly hope you enjoyed and do forget to comment and share! I love hearing from you guys it honestly makes me happy seeing your guys reactions or thoughts about my writing.
See you soon ;)
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coralinnii · 1 year
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Under a mistletoe with them feat: Idia, Sebek, Epel, Cater genre: fluff note: relationships is up to interpretation, no pronouns were used, I have no idea how mistletoe traditions actually work so that’s something to note,
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“Grim, would you please help me with the decorations?” You pleaded, exasperated with the lazy monster laying on the couch while you hung up lights in the living space. 
“Why should I? This was your idea anyway” Grim grumbled which left you to sigh. 
You realize that Christmas doesn’t exist in this universe (or at least your version of it, anyway) but feeling nostalgic and a little homesick, you thought decorating the Ramshackle dorm would bring your mood up a little…if your dorm mate would be a little bit more cooperative. 
“Well, the faster we finish decorating the faster I can get started on making cookies and some hot drinks” 
“Myrah, why didn’t you say so? This place will be Crust-mas ready!” the young monster was quick to his feet at the mention of a sweet reward, yanking the decorations around to hang them in a haste.
“It’s Christmas” you chuckled but decided with Grim motivated well enough, you thought you could head into the kitchen to get a head start of the treats you promised. You already told the cat-like creature where things should be. 
To be fair, you should have expected for things to not go as planned when the mistletoe you made in good fun falls atop of your surprise guest
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Ortho convinced his brother to give his thanks in person when you offered to take his place for in-person presentation (Crowley refused to let him do it through his tablet). Idia figured he could quickly give his thanks then run back to his dorm. That’s fine, right?
He was close to a heart attack when the mistletoe fell on his head, poorly attached by Grim and you kept yourself from laughing while you plucked the decor from Idia’s flames. 
You explained the mistletoe and its old tradition, which Idia just can’t believe the gall of your world.
“What crazy normies would ever think of this nonsense?! You’re jumping someone with this boss-level task without warning or prep! That's practically mission impossible!” 
Despite the complaints, you saw that he didn’t move from his spot. He wasn’t trapped as he said he was and he could have walked away after saying his thanks, as he planned. 
So, you took the chance. Hovering the mistletoe between the two of you, you gently place your lips onto his pale cheeks. A light feather-like touch but it set the senior’s heart racing and hair ablaze as he stumbled back onto the cold pavement. 
Idia’s felt his body burn along his fiery locks as he clutched the fabric atop his chest in poor hopes to calm his speeding heart. His senses are going into overdrive as his mind replays the sensation of your soft lips on his cheeks over and over. He’s seen animes with lucky protagonists who get the chance like this and he's ashamed to catch himself occasionally switching the fictional couple as the two of you in his mind. But dreaming about it is vastly different from the real deal.
“T-This is why I can’t understand you extroverts, doing this like it’s no big deal! Don’t you have any mercy for poor souls like me?”
“Hey,” Idia flinched at the way you crouched to his sitting level, leaning your close to him. “Aren’t you being a little harsh?” 
“H-Huh?” 
“I wouldn’t do that with just anyone, you know?” You pouted before half-hardheartedly glared at the blue-flamed man, who couldn’t look away from such a cute sight “I did it because it’s you”
It was a Christmas miracle Idia didn’t pass out on your front porch. 
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Sebek was on his way to drop off some blankets and other warm materials to keep you from freezing in the dilapidated building you and Grim call home. Afterall, your weak human body can’t possibly withstand the cold unlike him (which is true, but he shouldn’t just say it). 
He was about to go on another rant when he caught the decorative plant before it could touch his hair, appalled by the crumbling state of your dorm before you explained that Grim probably didn’t hang it properly. 
He questioned the strange plant in his hand and you explained an old-fashioned tradition from your world, to which made the mixed fae to blush profusely. 
He’s flabbergasted by the audacity of your world, to give away kisses so freely. He grew up learning the legend of a princess who shared her first kiss with her true love that broke her curse and he secretly hoped the same for his future love. 
“You humans are so imprudent, so flippant with something that should be treasured!” 
“Well, we don’t have to do it” you frowned, a little disappointed “Though, I wouldn’t mind it if it’s with you” 
Now, Sebek was caught in a dilemma. Despite all his expressed displeasure, the chance to finally kiss you literally fell on him and you’ve given your consent to him. It may not fit the expectations of his first kiss with (not that he has ever thought about, of course!) but he wonders if another chance like this would ever come again.
Coughing into his fist to cover his nerves, he straightened his posture but his line of sight shifted to the side, avoiding your gaze which shook his confidence. “Since it is part of your tradition, I would be a disgrace to Lord Malleus’ name to disregard such a thing as his knight” 
You would still have to be the one to close the gap however as Sebek shifted closer to you but with his eyes screwed shut and slightly shaking, he doesn't realize that he was still too far to reach your lips. 
You took pity on the poor boy and closed the gap yourself, your lips gently on his shaking ones. You felt the green-haired student flinched but you said nothing about it, opting to lean your weight onto his built body. You could feel the green-haired fae relaxed under your touch, slowly leaning towards you himself to prolong the intimate moment.
When you separated, you saw that Sebek was slow to snap out from his daze, taking a while to open his bright green eyes and realize you already leaned away. 
Quickly correcting his posture, he gave you a short goodbye and a nod before turning to walk back to his own dorm, taking quick but stiff steps at a time. You wondered if Sebek remembered that he still had the mistletoe in his grasp. You smiled, hoping to yourself that he would come back to return it.
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Epel was making his way to your dorm with a crate of treats from his hometown. He was excited to share his family’s apple jam, hearing that you were planning to make cookies with jam fillings. 
But imagine his surprise when he suddenly saw a strange plant land atop of his crate when you opened the door, with you softly cursing Grim for his lazy decorating. 
You explain your reasoning for decorating and the strange plant to Epel and he suddenly felt the heat in his cheeks. Growing up without too many kids his age around, the idea of such a lovey-dovey tradition would never cross his mind. 
“….Does it happen a lot to you?” He carefully asked as he placed the crate down to inspect the plant, hoping not to sound too jealous of the idea of you kissing other people. It may be a silly tradition but still, having the idea of others having such a chance with you rubs him the wrong way. 
“Ah no, never” you replied, feeling a little shy. Despite making the mistletoe yourself, putting it up and doing it are two separate experiences. You explained that not many people do it anymore because “only the boldest” would ever go through with it, and you’ve never had such a chance. 
Epel saw this as a chance to prove his confident, masculine side. Boldly, Epel picked the mistletoe and placed it as high as he could between you two. With a cocky grin, he asked you “Wanna give it a try, then?”
Perhaps a little too enthusiastic, Epel crashed his lips onto yours a bit too harshly, shocking you from the pressure of the kiss. After the shock however, you found a rhythm between you two and you closed your eyes to fully indulge in the touch. Be it his natural genetics or Vil's regime, you enjoyed the feel of Epel's lips on your own which felt soft to the touch despite the dizzying passion behind it.
Epel was the first to move away, breaking the spell. He’s brimming with pride looking at your dazed expression. He picked up the crate once more, bringing it into the kitchen.
“Come on, I’m curious about the cookies you told me. Could I stay and watch?” 
You didn’t notice how the lilac-haired boy pocketed the mistletoe, already planning a trick or two that night. 
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The redhead ordered a few magicam-worthy pastries but since he doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, he thought you would appreciate them more than he would (plus he wouldn’t mind taking a few pictures too). 
When you opened the door, he was intrigued over the decor you and Grim put up and he had to stick around for some good shots when he felt a soft weight landing on his head. He saw the cute decor and asked you about it. 
The more you explained the old tradition of the mistletoe, the more excited Cater was. How could he not with such a cute premise and the picture-worthy opportunity he could have with you. He had to try it, with your consent. 
Since it was his idea (even though it’s your mistletoe), he decided to take the role as the initiator of the kiss. You trusted Cater so you closed your eyes and nervously waited for his kiss. 
But Cater instead took the time to admire your face. He watched how your hair complimented the frame of your face, the pretty shade of your lips, the curve of your nose he would love to boop, and especially the plumpness of your cheeks. 
He also saw the slight shake from your nerves, perhaps he made you wait too long, he mused. 
Slowly, he captured your lips in his with a sense of gentleness you weren’t expecting. You could swoon with how soft Cater’s touch was, how careful he was with you to ensure your comfort. 
The two of you separated, both a little light-headed from the experience. You felt hot from the sensation of the kiss but you can’t say you hated it. 
“Ooops, my bad” you heard Cater, which you worriedly looked to. Cater himself looked a little embarrassed but not too upset. 
“I totally forgot about taking pictures” you also realized that you didn’t sense the flash of his phone. Cater did pull out his phone this time and smiled coyly at you. 
“Mind if we do another take?”
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avrelia · 3 months
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Zuko, Mai, and their love
I adore Mai and Zuko romantic relationship on avatar the Last Airbender. Not because they have a perfect relationship, or perfectly healthy one, but because that relationship is a realistic hot mess that is true to their characters, the world they live in, and the story.
And being realistic means I see similar people with similar problems in real life, in various combinations even if they cannot bend elements and don’t stand in line to inherit a throne.
At the same time Mai and Zuko are unique in fiction and make a total sense inside their story, narrative sense and symbolic one.
We see two kids who grew up in privileged, but toxic environment, steeped in propaganda and manipulation. We don’t know much about their relationship before Zuko was banished, and it is not necessary. They meet after three years, now 15 and 16 years old, and soon they are together, and here their love story starts. It is an inversion of a familiar trope, or most tropes popular these days that emphasize slow burn and feelings developing over time, in the right order and on as steep a scale as it can be. That’s one of the reasons why enemies to lovers is so popular – it makes for a better contrast and longer road. The characters are supposed to learn about themselves and the other, to become better people, to experience all that delicious unresolved sexual tension, and then to start good and wholesome relationship that make the world a better place.
Mai and Zuko don’t do that.
They skip all the steps and start the relationship. And only then they have to deal with the problem that they don’t know each other and hardly know themselves.
Is it GOOD? no. I wouldn’t advise anyone to try that. But is it believable? Absolutely. Mai and Zuko are two traumatized teenagers who really have no idea how healthy relationships should work. They barely function as is, and not good about connecting to people beyond their immediate circle. Which is why they have easier time connecting with each other.
There are many examples of Zuko’s people skills throughout the show, but Mai hardly fares better. She can pretend she is fine, but that’s because she was trained to stand pretty and be polite to people at the parties. She can appear aloof and bored, which is way more socially acceptable than whatever Zuko (and Azula) do at parties, but she can’t really connect to people, either.
With each other, they don’t make that effort, they get together, and it is a relief and solace for both of them at that moment, even though it brings problems in the future.
And they share a lot in common – it is ridiculous to downplay those similarities or pretend that they don’t matter. They have a similar upbringing, and while similar upbringing is never a guarantee of having a good relationship, it makes many things easier at the time.
Another thing I see in their on screen interactions and the one people tend to discard – The physicality of their relationship. Mai and Zuko seem to be genuinely attracted to each other and very comfortable being physically close with each other. No speculation on how close they got, just what we see on screen – they keep touching each other, they kiss, they keep close unless they are arguing (in the Beach and the Boiling Rock). But as soon they are back together, we see them embracing. And looking rather happy while embracing each other.
Both are touch starved and have spikey demeanor with the rest of the world, both desiring contact and shying away from it at the same time, Mai plainly saying to her best friend Ty Lee that she doesn’t like hugs and showing her reluctance to return Ty Lee’s hugs. But Mai is different with Zuko, and Zuko is different with Mai than with the rest of the world. And it is not bad, it is human.
Mai and Zuko love each other, but they also prove that the famous quote “all you need is love” is not quite right. Love is there, but it doesn’t work, and these two won’t stop trying to make it work.
We are seeing them in the very beginning of their journey. Book 3 lasts three months, and half of that time they were not together. And they managed a fine progress over that time. They talk, they learn about each other, they are being stupid and awkward and wrong, but they try to understand and support each other as much as they can. They learn to trust each other. And their confrontation at the Boiling rock is all about trust.
Mai is feeling betrayed and confronts Zuko. Zuko tries to explain his reasons – and maybe it is all shocking and uncomfortable for Mai, but she trusts Zuko at the end. Even if she is not ready to join his cause, she knows him enough to trust him again. To trust his reasons and his actions to disregard her own life (and social position) in order to save his. And that’s more than love.
What about symbolism? I talked about characters, but what about overall place in the story for Mai and Zuko’s relationship? When we talk about narrative and symbolism in any story, it is important to note that there no single understanding of which symbol must mean for everyone. Not for creators, not for viewers. There no agreement even in the simple question what narrative is there. And some fans, sure, see the narrative where Mai is an evil ex or symbolizes the past one has to move on from. But I see a narrative of kids growing up in oppressive state, under propaganda, struggling to find themselves and express themselves. And it is a difficult road to walk on, so they stumble a lot but they keep going.
Another possible aspect is the one where we see Mai as the Fire Nation. The marriage between a ruler and a country is one of the oldest myths, existing across different cultures, so the relationship between Mai and Zuko get that powerful mythic aspect as well. We know that Zuko is leaving Fire Nation and is coming back to it. Of course, as any symbol, it does not fit precisely, but the parallel is there, and it is fun to think about it.
But what does that relationship give Zuko? What does it give Mai? Except for some make-out sessions? Well, a bit of refuge and solace is not that little and useless benefit. Those were teenagers who were fighting in war, on the villainous side, sure, but still Mai’s previous months were unhappy, and Zuko’s previous years were filled with anguish and trauma. Right now they can be comfortable with each other, and it’s a lot. They also help each other to change for the better. It is not a huge and sweeping change, but Mai becomes more willing to talk about feelings, her own and Zuko’s, and for Zuko his experience of Mai’s love and support gives him respite and helps to realize the truth about himself – that he has to join the Avatar and help to end the war. He knows he is not alone in the Fire Nation, that even if Mai doesn’t see that the Fire Nation is in the wrong yet, she agrees that something is wrong with the world.
Mai and Zuko’s relationship works, and not because it is perfect, wholesome and unproblematic, but because it is believable that these particular people would have this particular relationship, and at the same time it shows new, unexpected sides of the characters and highlights their problems and, provides refuge, challenges and makes them change for the better.
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pagannatural · 2 months
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2.09 Croatoan
-my beloved
-The brothers go to Oregon because Sam has a vision of Dean shooting someone who pleads for his life.
-Sam thinks Dean is violent and out of control because of his grief but he’s actually violent and out of control because he’s losing his mind over Sam.
-Sam looks very Scared Little Brother when they realize the town has no phone signal. He stands really close to Dean. Sam is right. I forgot how scary this episode is.
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-Sam hesitates to kill the son who had the mom tied up, and Dean berates him. Dean calls the son a “monster” and Sam says “it was a kid.” Dean likes a clean line between monster and human.
-Sam is always the one who comforts the victims and tells people everything will be okay, another way in which his role in the relationship is traditionally feminine. He’s the one women find non-threatening. (And he’s too distracted by Dean to be attracted to them).
-When the mom, Beverly, says “one minute they were my husband and my son and the next they had the devil in them” the camera cuts to Sam and Dean. This line could be Dean describing a blood-drinking Sam: one minute he was my husband and my son and the next he had the devil in him.
-One of the armed men blocking the road out of town asks Dean to get out of the car to “talk a little,” and Dean says “you are a handsome devil but I don’t swing that way, sorry.” It’s easy to forget that in the early 2000s, this kind of throwaway joke on network tv didn’t usually hint at a character’s hidden sexuality, it was just a vaguely biphobic little joke. But I do think there’s a reason it’s here.
The Croatoan virus is a demonic virus spread from blood infection that’s not visible just by looking at someone. So we have a little AIDS parallel. It’s also a similar concept to Sam’s demon blood. His blood represents choice and sin and the human mixed with the monstrous. Blood is also associated with family.
Incest and queerness are taboos that have often been conflated in fiction (and in history), and both have been strongly associated with monstrosity—think predatory sexuality, birth defects, infertility, rejection of the natural order. A desire that’s dangerous and wrong and destructive, that must stay hidden and can only survive in the shadows. The homoerotic incestuous monster hunters are the perfect storm of gothic queer horror.
Whether or not either brother is queer doesn’t affect the plot, and isn’t the point. I can see Dean grappling with being in love with Sam without questioning his sexuality at all. Sam is a category unto himself to Dean, and Sam doesn’t appear bothered about his sexuality aside from his feelings about Dean. But the confluence of these taboos—incest and queerness—with blood is central to the plot of the show and the question of what evil is. Really their love for each other and their shared blood is what saves them, keeps them human.
-Another of my absolute favorite underrated wincest moments is when Beverly is begging for her life from the utility room and Dean asks Sam “are you sure she’s one of them?” Sam barely nods and it’s enough for Dean to shoot her three times point blank. He doesn’t need any more information, just for Sam to nod slightly.
-Sam suggests that they need to leave to warn others of the virus and Dean tells him he has a good point. They respect each other’s input and work together well.
-Duane shows up and the situation becomes very tense. Sam is standing with his whole body facing Dean. In moments of extreme stress, Sam often seeks Dean’s protection rather than focusing on the threat.
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-Dean has a gun on Duane with some urgency but Sam says “I gotta talk to you—now” and Dean leaves the room with him immediately.
Sam argues that they should wait and not kill Duane in case he isn’t infected. Dean says “what’s that buy us?”
“A clear conscience, for one.”
“Well it’s too late for that.” Is Dean talking about his guilt over John’s death? Or is this more about his general self hatred around never being enough to be everything for everyone, to give Sam everything that he needs and be the perfect son and soldier and brother and father and mother?
Sam tells him “you don’t act like yourself anymore, Dean. You’re acting like one of those things out there.” Dean does feel lost. He needs Sam to save him so that he can save Sam.
-Sam is so devoted to Dean this season. He spent season 1 gradually giving into his complete trust and commitment to Dean and now he’s been losing him or at risk of losing him in different ways all season. He fights tooth and nail for Dean every step of the way to get him to listen, to talk, to come back to him.
-Dean pushes Sam out of the way and locks him out, aiming to kill Duane. He says “it’s not him, not any more” and “I’ve got no choice.” But then Dean decides not to shoot him.
-When the doctor asks if it’s alright to untie Duane, Dean and Sam seem to have a wordless conversation in which Dean defers to Sam’s judgement, and Sam tells the doctor it’s okay to untie him.
-Sam is Dean’s morality. Dean is submitting to Sam, needing him to help him make the right choice. By doing this he’s also believing in Sam’s ability to stay good.
-Sam says about Dean not killing Duane “you know I’m gonna ask you why.”
Dean replies “yeah I know,” not looking up, focusing on keeping his hands busy making Molotov cocktails.
“So why? Why didn’t you do it?”
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Dean looks at Sam with his chin tucked, like it’s hard to meet his eyes. He doesn’t answer. He clears his throat and says “we need more alcohol,” basically asking Sam to leave for a moment so that he can pull it together. He gazes after Sam with this raw, shamed look.
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It’s the first of two parallels in this episode to their conversation in 1.19 where Sam says his reticence to date is mostly not about Jessica, and Dean asks “then what is it about?” and Sam just looks at him, implying heavily that it’s about Dean.
The question Dean was asking Sam there was essentially, Why can’t you love anyone else?
The first question Sam asks Dean is why he didn’t kill someone, but it’s also why Dean wants to do the right thing and not lose himself, and the answer is because of Sam.
-After Sam is attacked, he reaches for Dean’s hand to help him up off the floor and then just leaves his hand outstretched after Sarge holds Dean back and tells him Sam is infected. It’s like his muscle memory of reach-out-hand, Dean-pulls-me-up hasn’t caught on.
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-The whole time Dean argues with the others about Sam, Sam only looks at the floor or at Dean. He’s not watching the conversation, he’s watching Dean because he’s scared and he looks to Dean when he’s scared.
-Dean says “no one’s shooting my brother”
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He’s so protective. He was about to kill someone who might be infected just in case, but when it’s Sam he would simply rather die in a murder suicide and that’s that on that.
-Sam asks for the gun so that he can shoot himself, saying “I’m not gonna become one of those things.” This episode is pure foreshadowing for the end of s5. Sam refuses to become a monster, Dean chooses to stand by him and die rather than kill him. Because of their faith in each other, because they waited, things work out.
-Dean hands over the keys to the impala. He’s not fucking around. He tells the doctor “oh actually we’re not really marshals.” He’s in a truth telling mood, fuck it.
-Sam asks Dean to leave him and keep living, looking at him with incredulity and gratitude and love and fear.
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Dean leaving him alone to die or become a monster would fulfill Sam’s deepest fear—left behind, not belonging, because something is wrong with him. But he still asks Dean to go, he throws a fit, he tells him “this is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” It reminds me of that scene from Titanic, Jack telling Rose “you’re so stupid” for staying with him instead of saving herself.
He says “it’s over for me, it doesn’t have to be for you.”
“No?”
“No. You can keep going.”
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“Who says I want to?”
This scene is so dramatic and romantic. Close shots of their faces, Sam looking up at Dean with his eyes full of tears, begging him. Dean tells Sam he doesn’t want to go on without him.
Sam asks, what?
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For a moment it almost looks like he’s taking this as the confession that it is, before Dean puts some distance between them and leans against the wall. This is the second scene is this episode to parallel their conversation in 1.19, this time even more closely.
Sam thinks Dean doesn’t want to go on because their dad died, but Dean says “you’re wrong. It’s not about dad. I mean part of it is, sure, but-“
Sam interrupts to ask “then what is it about?” and Dean gives him this look,
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this look of love and tenderness, like he’s willing Sam to understand.
This time Sam’s question is Why don’t you want to live? And the answer is that Dean doesn’t want to live without Sam.
I love how this scene makes clear that Sam’s romantic partners compare directly to Dean. It confirms what Sam was thinking about in 1.19, because for these scenes to rhyme they must have been thinking about each other.
-The brothers share a romantic beer at the lake. Sam asks Dean what he was talking about last night in a way that honest-to-god sounds like he’s referring to pillow talk. Dean doesn’t want to tell so Sam keeps pushing, but their tones are teasing and light. They really sound like they’re flirting. Dean suggests that they go to the Grand Canyon.
Sam keeps questioning him, gentle but insistent, as Dean talks about taking a break.
-Where is our Grand Canyon episode?
-Sam looks so scared when Dean says John told him something about Sam before he died. I wonder what’s running through his head. There’s this feeling that people with Sam’s negative core belief often get, which is a fear that something is deeply wrong or rotten in them and that eventually other people will find out. He’s probably thinking that’s finally happened.
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utilitycaster · 6 days
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This is probably something that will be obvious to many but: writing about fictional works but not creating fanfiction/fanon to me tends to fall into four categories, and I think it's really important to get how they intersect before getting weird about other people's posts.
Opinion. Eg: I like relationships based in mutual understanding. This is my opinion. It is correct for me. Might not be correct for you! Note that this is pure opinion, with no argument.
Interpretation: Eg: Beau and Yasha's relationship shows a great deal of understanding in each other's shared experiences, including abusive parents; a shared tendency to believe, at least earlier on, that things will go badly and that they don't deserve better; and difficulty expressing their feelings verbally but letting out frustrations through fighting.
Fact/Evidence: Beau says she is unused to things turning out good, and Yasha believes herself to be, as she says, very unlucky or cursed. Her letter covers that she expresses herself through fighting.
Conclusion: I like Beauyasha.
Argument is Opinion + Interpretation; a valid argument is Opinion + Interpretation + Evidence. Meta can include opinion but ultimately is Interpretation and good meta is Interpretation + Evidence. It's fine to post just an opinion, but if you want to change minds, you need an argument, and if you want to be able to hold your own against a counterargument it better be valid.
You can have the same interpretation and facts and different opinions and therefore different conclusions. Someone else could say "I like messy relationships (opinion) and so Beau and Yasha's shared understanding (interpretation, same as mine) is not interesting to me (conclusion)." You can also have a different interpretation from the same facts, either because you are including a different set of facts on a topic or because there is ambiguity and room for different lenses.
If your goal is to change someone's mind - and to be honest mine usually isn't - you are unlikely to change their opinions. Eg, If someone says "I don't like Beauyasha because I prefer messier relationships" I'm not going to convince them on the grounds of "you shouldn't like messier relationships." I need to either put forward an interpretation that supports a messier relationship, or, more realistically, say "understandable, have a nice day" and move on with my life.
That last bit is important - a lot of people also argue on the basis of "well obviously this interpretation is the only one, so you should draw the same opinions from it." and that's likely to fail; either the person disagreeing with you overall does agree on the interpretation but has different opinions (as in the above example), or they have a different interpretation (eg: Beau and Yasha have attacked each other repeatedly) and that is the basis of their opinion (I don't like that). You need to figure out which is going on and address that should you wish to change their mind. And again, I think you should ask why you want to change their mind.
The last point is that all of the above is valid given the text and reflect different perspectives. But if someone were to say "I don't like Beauyasha because Beau turned into a porcupine and moved to France, and I don't like long-distance relationships" the invalid portion is that this literally did not happen (fact leading to interpretation). If someone can correctly dispute the facts of your interpretation (as they stand at the time, obviously; no one is penalized for not being precognitive) then you are fucked, argument-wise. If I point out that Beau did not turn into a porcupine nor move to France, this person's argument falls apart. They can still dislike the relationship, but if they want to justify it with an argument they better find a new interpretation, and fast.
Before I move into the end I will note that you can also just not vibe with something, and that's purely in the realm of opinion + conclusion, a la "this rubs me the wrong way" or "I find this annoying" or "it's cute" and all of those are valid to hold for yourself, and also inaccessible to anyone else
The conclusions I draw from all of the above are first, making posts that are only your opinion/conclusion is always fine - say what you want - but treating it as an argument is a waste of time, and so anything of the order of "how could you not like xyz (unspoken: because I did)" is pointless because my answer is going to be "easily, and with confidence." Secondly, I think it's valuable to look at posts, even those with arguments, as primarily interpretation rather than opinion. Putting forth a separate interpretation is a disagreement, but it's not a disagreement necessarily directed at you; it's disagreeing with you but the parallel play option is available! You do not need to go out trying to convert all to your same mindset. I think a healthy fandom ecosystem has multiple interpretations and opinions and respectful disagreement; the positive version of "let people like/dislike things" (ie, they can like it or dislike it and if you're normal, your enjoyment is not contingent on theirs). Thirdly, get your facts straight or suffer the consequences. And finally, if you are trying to make an argument for an ongoing work and do so over time, your opinion must be fairly consistent even as the interpretation naturally evolves otherwise it becomes clear that you are arguing in favor of a foregone conclusion (often via moving the goalposts). If you say "I like characters who are willing to make painful and difficult choices, and Blorbo always takes the easy way out, so I don't like them" and Blorbo develops into a character who is able to make painful and difficult choices, if you start critiquing Blorbo now on the basis those choices that's still fair but you better come very correct, and it might be wiser to just say "I don't fuck with Blorbo, if you do that's great but I don't."
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