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55szn · 11 hours

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lacy - mv1

max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

summary yn can't keep hiding her true feelings towards max

wc 1,6 k (i was supposed to keep it short for this one but oh well)

warnings this one angsty as fuuuck, reader kinda sucks sorry

a/n first post of this series omg i'm so excited!!!!!! i haven't written in a while so this may not be the best of my works but this is still one of my favorites <33 also english is not my first language so...yeah

YN sighed as she pulled the balaclava off and immediately ran her hand through her sweaty hair, attempting to make it look decent. Once again she was finishing behind Max. The Dutch looked back at her as he got down from the top of his car and gave her a sweet smile, she tried her best to reciprocate that smile but it probably looked as fake as it felt.

She couldn't really pinpoint when her rotten mind had started to harbor these feelings towards the man she loved.

YN's first encounter with Max occurred when they were barely teenagers, amid the noisy circuits of karting competitions. There was something captivating in that lanky and slightly awkward teenager that drew YN to him like a magnet. As time went on, their bond deepened, among endless talks of shared dreams that seemed unreachable at the time.

The first time Max kissed YN, she felt in heaven, enveloped in a kind of excitement she had never known. It didn't take long before he asked her to be his girlfriend and she accepted thinking life couldn't get better than that.

The mutual decision to keep their relationship under wraps seemed obvious, a conscious choice made as they started their parallel journeys into Formula 1, that was not the kind of attention they were seeking.

She felt true happiness for Max's overwhelming success, she truly did, at least at the beginning.

But YN found herself caught in the shadow of his success, a place she hadn't anticipated occupying. Eventually every podium celebration and victory lap, served as a bitter reminder of the expectations she was failing to meet. She couldn't acknowledge these feelings so she masked this resentment beneath a facade of congratulatory smiles and kisses. The press was no help. They endlessly compared their careers and although YN had managed to get some satisfying results, she was nowhere near Max's level. They ate it up, it gave them good headlines to pit them against the other. They were the embodiment of a tantalizing narrative – two very young drivers with great success in the lower categories, shared dreams and a seemingly unbreakable "friendship", both coming into F1 with good teams and high expectations but only one of them was reaching those expectations. It was a good story, sure. But the story was tearing YN apart.

Perhaps the tipping point arrived with a very specific headline, its words forever etched into her brain: "Max Verstappen: Vettel reincarnate." With each syllable, YN's throat constricted, her stomach twisting into knots. Max seemed to effortlessly get everything she ever yearned for, now he was getting put at the same level as her biggest idol and inspiration which proved to be too much to handle for her. And with each of his accomplishments the poisonous seed of envy took root within her heart.

It was so contradictory, when she finally admitted it to herself. She loved Max more than she loved herself and maybe that was the root of the problem, her own insecurities and bruised ego. But it was becoming impossible to fake a smile every time she saw him on that top step. She knew it wasn't true but she almost felt like Max was out to get her.

She hated Max. And she hated herself for that fact. How could one harbor so much love and hatred for someone at the same time?

She was loosing her mind, her fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Of course the ever attentive eyes of the press and the fans noticed the way her once adoring glances towards Max were now replaced with icy stares. How she couldn't even make the effort to raise the corners of her mouth whenever Max complimented her skills or her racing. His tenders words of admiration which once felt like a warm summer breeze began to feel like bullets grazing her already wounded skin, they felt like mockery. It was only a matter of time until Max started noticing this too.

Something was clearly happening, and that's why he found himself knocking on her apartment's door late at night, the echoes of the particularly hard weekend YN had endured still reverberating through his mind. The bitter taste of failure and disappointment still lingered on her lips. YN had struggled with the car and couldn't even make it out of Q3, and Sunday's race offered little reprieve, finishing in a P11 that tasted of unfulfilled expectations. While, of course, Max had made a brilliant pole position and had won the race, once again making everyone worship the ground he walked on. He hadn't seen YN since the race finished. She flew back to Mónaco that same night without even letting him know and without even asking if he wanted to fly back with her, which was the case almost every weekend. Max wasn't stupid, he could tell something was up with her lately, the distance she was putting between them, he was loosing her. And he loved her too much to let her go without a fight.

The door creaked open, YN's figure against the dim lighting within. Her jealous eyes clouded with heavy feelings. She stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Max to enter, her silence was louder that any word could ever be.

He carefully walked in, the all too familiar environment of his girlfriend's apartment suddenly feeling cold and foreign. Max was tense before taking a seat on the armrest of her couch. His heart felt heavy, he already wanted to cry. He had trouble getting the words out, something that had never happened in the years he had known YN. What had they become?

He swallowed dry before finally finding his voice. "I think we need to have a talk." His gaze was pleading for her to meet his eyes, but she kept staring at her shoes.

She froze at his words and her fingers tightened around the edge of the table she was leaning against. She could tell this conversation was coming, yet she dreaded the flood of emotions threatening to consume her, scared of the things she could say.

"What is it, Max?" Her voice was strained, an inner battle developing inside her, trying to control her emotions.

"You know what it is about, schat." Her jaw tightened at the pet name, now it somehow sounded condescending, even though deep down she knew that wasn't true. "YN something's been bothering you lately. I know it. Please talk to me."

YN's heart clenched painfully at his words, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her own inner turmoil. How could she even begin to articulate the burning envy and resentment that coursed through her veins every time she looked at him? How could she admit out loud to hating the man she loved more than life itself?

When she finally looked up and met his stare she felt the monstrous feeling that had been gnawing at her conscience completely engulf her and she wasn't in control of her own words anymore. Her eyes burning with a contradictory mix of longing and loathing. "Are you seriously asking me that, Max?" Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.

Max recoiled at the intensity of her stare and her tone, a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach by the anticipatory feeling of his world crumbling down completely. "YN, I..."

"You know damn well what's going on." YN's voice cracked with emotion, her words laced with a bitterness that made it unrecognizable to both of them. "You have everything, Max. The wins, the championships, the adoration of the whole fucking world. Everything I ever wanted, you took it for yourself." She knew she wasn't making sense, the words were spilling out of her mouth before she had the time to catch them.

Max's heart constricted with an unfair amount of guilt. "YN, I... I had no idea you felt this way."

"And why would you?" She retorted, her voice rising with each word. "You're too busy basking in your own glory to notice how much it's killing me to be constantly compared to you." That wasn't his fault, and she knew it. It was the pure and evil hatred that consumed her that was speaking those words.

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I'm sorry." He shouldn't have to apologize for what he accomplished after years and years of hard work, yet he did, the fear of loosing her bigger than the need to acknowledge his self worth.

The hurt mirroring in his eyes was obvious, her tone softened before she spoke again. "You don't have to apologize, Max. You deserve it, you deserve it so much. I know that and you should too." She took a sharp breath in. "But knowing that doesn't change how I feel. I...I hate you."

He looked at her, stunned. His heart plummeted to his stomach. Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning.

"I do. I hate you Max. I hate you for being able to get everything I've only ever dared to dream of." She couldn't believe she was admitting it to Max's face, breaking the heart of the man she claimed to love.

Max felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under him, the sting of her words cutting deeper than any wound ever could. "I can't believe you're saying this," he mumbled, his voice chocked.

"I wish I didn't have to Max but I can't bear to keep lying to your face. I wish I could just pretend like everything's okay, like I'm still happy for you. But I can't, I'm sorry." YN's voice cracked with the weight of her confession, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him with a strange mix of love and loathing. "I love you too much to keep lying to you."

The silence was sepulcral, years and years of shared moments full of love completely destroyed by the sick envy that had infected YN.

But the truth is, their love was doomed from the beginning.

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glearyyyne · 2 days

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a true story

Synopsis: Working at the bar as a waitress took a toll on you as soon as a white-haired man started to appear in the bar just to watch you. It was fine at first but he started to cause chaos in the bar which made you want to resign when he offered a deal with you and you accepted it, you didn't know it would lead to you questioning your feelings toward him.

Word Count: 4,959 words

Warning: 18+(because of kissing), angst, cursing, misunderstanding, mention of gun, fight.

Note: Another eternal sunshine song-based! Took me a lot of time to finish this 'cause I've been wanting to drop this fic but my friend encouraged me to continue and post it. To my friend, I love you very much for encouraging me to continue this!!

_____________________________________________________________

"Hey [Reader's name]!"

You spun around while adjusting your apron right after punching in for your shift.

"What's up, Fumiko?" you asked, quickly tying your apron into a neat bow.

"Table 7 needs you," she informed you, prompting a frustrated sigh from you. "Can't they wait a minute? I just clocked in!"

"Well, you wouldn't want to upset the boss again by ignoring his favorite customer," Fumiko gently reminded you.

You let out a sigh, muttering under your breath in frustration.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before stepping out of the locker room to begin your shift, knowing that serving Table 7 was your first task as always.

Table 7 was just a short distance from the bar, but what made it hard to miss was the white-haired man seated there, his striking appearance standing out among the other customers.

Pausing once more, you took another deep breath, gathering your composure before making your way over to the table.

As Satoru sensed footsteps approaching from behind, he turned with a broad smile upon seeing you.

"Ah, [Reader's nickname]! Wonderful to see you!" he greeted enthusiastically as you reached his table.

You couldn't resist remarking, "My parents gave me a name for a reason," your grip on the notepad tightened as you struggled to contain your frustration.

Satoru's eyes sparkled behind his trademark sunglasses.

"Okay, chill kitten," he teased once more. You internally groaned at the pet name.

"Call me another pet name, and I'll make sure to file a restraining order against you," you threatened, although you knew you couldn't file a restraining order because...

"Oh yeah? I think you're forgetting something, princess," Satoru retorted, pulling out a pocket gun.

He’s one of the most dangerous men in Japan.

"You can't file a restraining order against me when they know how dangerous I am to society," he whispered with such intimidation that it sent a shiver down your spine.

You glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious, but the smile on his face hinted at a hint of psychopathy.

With a sigh, you said, "What do you want to order?" eager to move past the uncomfortable exchange.

"Mhmm, if you were on the menu, I would have ordered you," Satoru shamelessly remarked as he perused the menu.

His words made you want to whack him on the spot.

"If you're looking for entertainment, I suggest booking a private room with one of our exotic dancers," you suggested, hoping to redirect his attention away from you.

But luck wasn't on your side.

"They've already been touched by those dirty drunk businessmen, and besides, nobody will focus on some waitress like you when you're so pretty and perfect for me," Satoru explained, his words dripping with arrogance.

You scoffed at his statement. "Well, if you're into looks, I'm sorry, but I don't date guys like you who are too arrogant and full of ego," you told him angrily.

Satoru chuckled in response. "Well, I can change your mind about me if you'll let me," he said, his tone suggesting he wasn't about to give up.

It seemed he wasn't going to let this go easily.

You stared at him blankly. "Can't you just tell me what your order is?" you asked, not wanting to waste any more time on him.

"Why? So you can go back and ignore me as usual?" Satoru asked with a pout.

"Good thing you know," you retorted.

"Of course I know," Satoru replied, seemingly about to continue, but he was interrupted by another customer.

"Hey miss, can I get another bottle of beer?" the customer interjected.

Turning to the customer, you nodded, "Sure, after I take his order," you said, pointing your pen towards Satoru, who wore an unpleasant expression on his face.

"Get another waiter to get you some beer," Satoru told the customer, his tone dismissive.

You tried to intervene, "Hey!" but Satoru continued.

"Sorry, he's just, you know," you attempted to explain to the customer, but Satoru cut in.

"I'll get the usual meal," he said with a smile.

"You got it then," you replied, jotting down the order that you already knew, before walking away.

Satoru eyed the guy who interrupted your conversation, making a mental note to deal with him later.

You continued your work, feeling the weight of his eyes following you around whenever you served someone.

Those annoyingly pretty blue eyes seemed to track your every move.

You did your best to ignore him, but you couldn't help but return his stare whenever you unconsciously scanned the bar.

Despite finishing his meal, he remained, still watching you. When he noticed your gaze, he smiled and waved at you.

Rolling your eyes, you returned to your tasks, determined not to let him distract you any further.

"So cute," Satoru said with a giggle as you looked away, obviously amused by how hard you were trying to resist his charms.

He enjoyed the challenge, especially when it came to you.

After hours of serving food and drinks to patrons, you glanced at the clock and realized you were close to the end of your shift.

Surprisingly, Satoru was still seated at Table 7.

It seemed like he was waiting for something, but you figured it was none of your business anyway.

"Bring this to table 6," the bartender instructed, handing you five drinks that needed to be served.

This was your last task of the night, and it had to be five drinks.

Carefully balancing them on a tray, you set off to deliver them to table 6. As you walked, you suddenly realized that Table 6 was dangerously close to Satoru's.

"Here's your drinks, sir," you spoke after arriving at their table, gently placing down the drinks.

The men at the table suddenly went quiet as you approached.

One of them, who was uncomfortably close, whistled and eyed your body, but you ignored him and continued placing the drinks.

"I didn't think the drinks would come with such a beautiful lady," he said, earning laughter from his companions.

You knew Satoru was watching, so you felt somewhat safer in case the man tried anything.

"Why are you ignoring me, baby?" the guy said drunkenly.

Ignoring him, you were about to place the last drink when you felt a hand grope your ass, causing you to spill the drink.

"Fuck!" the guy shouted, drawing attention from other customers. "You bitch!" he exclaimed, seemingly about to attack you.

Bracing yourself, you covered your face with the tray, ready to defend against the assault.

But the attack never came.

You uncovered your face from the tray as soon as you heard water splashing.

To your surprise, you saw the guy who groped you was covered in water, with Satoru holding an empty glass raised to the guy's head.

You were speechless at what he had done.

"What's your problem, man?!" the guy shouted at Satoru, his voice filled with anger. Everyone in the vicinity seemed to be holding their phones, ready to record the impending fight between the two.

Satoru scoffed, chuckling."You. You're my problem," he said angrily, pulling out the pocket gun he had and pointing it at the man, who suddenly looked scared.

"You're touching what's mine," Satoru's voice was laced with possessiveness.

Your eyes widened as you rushed to Satoru, attempting to stop him from shooting the guy.

"Satoru, stop it!" you pleaded, reaching for his wrist to prevent him from pulling the trigger.

"Just a second, princess, we need more time," Satoru said, his gaze still fixed on the man as he continued to point the gun.

"What time?!" you exclaimed, panic rising within you as the situation escalated.

"Now," Satoru calmly replied, finally lowering the gun.

Before you could ask him anything else, security guards arrived on the scene, intervening in the fight.

You were speechless, still processing everything that had just unfolded, as Satoru took the opportunity to wrap his arm around your waist and kiss your head.

"Your shift ends now, right? Can you go to the locker room? I'll take you home," he whispered softly.

Still surprised by the turn of events, you didn't have time to get annoyed at his actions.

Instead, you nodded silently before heading to the locker room, leaving Satoru behind to deal with the aftermath of what had happened.

You made your way to the locker room, trying to calm your racing heart. Fumiko entered soon after, concern evident on her face.

"Hey, I saw what happened. Are you okay?" she asked, gently rubbing your shoulder.

"I didn't think your boyfriend was capable of doing that," she added, causing you to look at her in surprise. "Boyfriend?" you let out incredulously.

"Is he not your boyfriend?" Fumiko asked carefully.

"Never in my life would he be my boyfriend," you vehemently denied, heading to your locker to grab your things.

All you wanted was to retreat to your bed for the rest of the night.

"I think the boss wants to talk about what happened," Fumiko informed you, leaving you sighing heavily.

This might be it; he might fire you.

"Okay, I'll head there," you said, grabbing your bag and preparing to leave. However, Fumiko stopped you before you could go any further.

"Get some rest, will ya?" she said with a reassuring smile.

Her words resonated with you, and you returned her smile, nodding in agreement before finally leaving the locker room.

The conversation with your boss wasn't too lengthy, though he scolded you for spilling the drink that had caused the fight.

However, to your relief, he didn't fire you. It felt as though Satoru might have intervened somehow to prevent your immediate termination.

The bad news was that you were suspended for a day, meaning you couldn't work tomorrow.

While it was disappointing, you understood the decision. It might be for the best to keep the club safe, especially if it meant Satoru would stay away while you were suspended.

As you exited through the door, you saw Satoru smoking nearby. As soon as he noticed you, he threw away the cigarette and began to approach you, but you stopped him in his tracks.

"Go home, I'll take the bus," you told him firmly, walking in the opposite direction. However, Satoru was about to let you go slowly.

"Wait, I just told you I'll take you home," he insisted.

"But I can't face you right now, Satoru. I almost lost my job there!" you snapped at him, frustration evident in your voice.

You expected him to argue back, but instead, he surprised you by taking off his blazer and wrapping it around you, leaving you speechless.

"It's cold outside. Please, let me take you home," he said softly, his demeanor unusually gentle. It was the first time you had seen him act like this.

"Will you leave me alone if you take me home?" you asked, hoping for him to accept it.

However, his smile dropped at your question.

"I don't think I can leave you alone, not when I like you too much," Satoru confessed, but you didn't take his confession lightly.

"Oh, stop this crap. You can go and find someone else to date then," you retorted, refusing to let his words sway you.

"If you agree to be my fake girlfriend for a day, I'll leave you alone," Satoru suggested, his proposal tempting despite your reservations.

"Why do you even need a fake girlfriend to begin with?" you asked, curious about his motives.

"To impress my grandfather. That geezer wants me to bring someone to a ball party that's held tomorrow," Satoru replied, providing an explanation that made sense.

The timing coincidentally aligned with the day you were suspended from work, and you didn't have any other plans.

"Fine, you better keep your end of the deal," you told him, reluctantly agreeing to his proposal.

Satoru smiled softly at you after you accepted his offer. That left you feeling something that you couldn't explain.

What the hell was that?

As you were about to head inside your house, Satoru stopped you. "Hey, I'll pick you up tomorrow by 7 am," he said, causing you to stop in your tracks.

"7? That's too early! Can't you see it's 1 am?" you protested.

"I know, but it'll be fun. You'll get to be treated like a princess," Satoru smirked at you before turning and walking back to his car, leaving you standing there feeling confused.

You were about to ask him for clarification, but he had already left.

Shaking your head in bewilderment, you headed inside the house and got ready for bed, still wondering what Satoru had planned for tomorrow morning.

"I didn't think you'd bring me to the mall," you remarked to Satoru, who was busy looking at clothes for you.

"Does it really have to be here at Louis Vuitton?" you added, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the luxurious surroundings.

"I can't let you go into the ball wearing cheap clothes, and besides, that geezer is allergic to anything less than top-tier fashion. So, if we want to impress him, then..." Satoru paused, pulling out a dress.

"You need to wear this," he said, showing you the dress.

"I would have to work ten jobs just to be able to purchase that," you told him, feeling a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

Satoru chuckled at your remark.

"But you don't need to work ten jobs to buy this when you have me," he said, his ego shining through. You rolled your eyes at his typical arrogance.

"We're only going to buy one, right?" you asked, trying to reel him in, but Satoru didn't respond.

Instead, he is immediately swarmed by sales ladies to assist him in finding you the perfect clothes.

The original plan was just to buy clothes for the ball, but it ended up with tons of outfits for various occasions – working, hanging out, lounging at home, and even for work.

"You didn't stick to your plan, did you?" you asked him as you both left the shop, him carrying tons of bags while you only had a few.

"So what? At least you have more clothes to wear," Satoru remarked as you both walked towards the parking area on the ground floor of the mall.

Just as Satoru was about to open the door to his car, your eyes widened as you saw someone unexpected, causing you to instinctively pull Satoru close to you.

His hands unconsciously went to the wall, as if pinning you against it.

"Woah, I didn't expect this," Satoru let out with a smirk, clearly enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

"Shut up, there's someone I didn't want to see, and I need you to cover for me," you told him urgently, but Satoru was stubborn.

"Where?" he said, looking around, making you panic. You grabbed both of his cheeks and made him face you.

"Just look at me! Don't turn around!" you whispered angrily.

"Well, I can't deny you're giving me the chance to look at your pretty face," Satoru teased, but you rolled your eyes in exasperation.

As you saw a shadow approaching, panic surged through you again. Without thinking, you pressed your lips against Satoru's.

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't resist. He kissed you back, his hand instinctively moving to your waist while the other remained pressed against the wall.

You could feel Satoru's smirk against your lips as he began to dominate the kiss between the two of you.

Lost in the moment, neither of you noticed when someone approached.

"Uh, excuse me?" the guy's voice interrupted, causing Satoru to pull away from the kiss and bite his lip in frustration.

"Yes?" Satoru replied, trying to maintain his composure as you ducked your face, hiding onto his chest in embarrassment.

"I think you shouldn't be doing that here," the guy said, and you stayed quiet as you recognized his voice. Out of all the places, he had to be here?

"You're ruining a good time for me, dude," Satoru told the guy without even looking at him.

"If you interfere again, you'll never see the light of day," Satoru threatened, his hand moving to his gun just to scare the guy off.

The guy backed away and left, leaving you two alone at last. You finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Was it him, wasn't it?" Satoru spoke, his voice deep and serious.

"Huh?" you asked, finally looking up to see him staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"The reason why you're in this position?" Satoru asked, his hand gently holding your chin. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, unsure of what to say.

"But then again, I can finally taste your lips," Satoru whispered, his words causing you to blush furiously.

You thought he was about to lean in for another kiss, but to your surprise, he pulled away and picked up the bags from the ground before heading back to the car to open it.

You stood there, speechless, trying to process what had just happened and the whirlwind of emotions it stirred within you.

"You're not going inside?" Satoru asked, a smirk evident in his tone, and you felt the urge to wipe it off his face.

Ignoring his smugness, you walked up to the car and opened the passenger door, getting inside and taking a seat. Satoru didn't say much as he started the engine.

You waited, expecting him to speak, but when he finally did as he began driving, you weren't prepared for his choice of topic.

"I think it would be best if you wore the midnight blue dress so it would match my eyes," Satoru suddenly spoke, catching you off guard.

"You just had to choose that as the icebreaker for our conversation?" you asked, staring at him incredulously.

"What? You wanted me to talk about how sweet those lips of yours are? Because I can tell you straight if you want," Satoru replied casually, his words annoying you.

"Whatever, it's not like you'll be getting more than that," you muttered, but you heard him chuckle.

"I assure you, princess, that you'll give me more," Satoru said confidently.

"Why do you think so?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"I just feel it," he replied cryptically, leaving you puzzled by his enigmatic response.

***

You admired yourself in the mirror after putting on the fitted midnight dress.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice Satoru approaching until he appeared behind you, his hand resting on your waist as he looked at you with a grin on his face.

"So gorgeous," he whispered directly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched as his words stirred something within you, and it felt strange to have Satoru eyeing you as if you were his.

Sensing your reaction, Satoru leaned down and kissed your neck, leaving you shocked by his sudden boldness.

The sensation of his lips against your skin sent a jolt through you, and you struggled to compose yourself during his unexpected actions.

"Can't help myself," Satoru murmured against your skin, his voice low and seductive. "You look so irresistible in that dress, like a vision from a dream."

His lips trailed along your neck, sending tingles down your spine.

"I knew it would fit you the moment I saw that dress in the store," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin.

"Satoru—" you began to protest, but he hushed you as if he already knew what you were going to say.

"Shh, remember you're my fake girlfriend now," Satoru reminded you, his words a gentle reminder of the charade you both agreed to.

As you slowly processed how the fake girlfriend charade had begun, you felt a cold band being placed on your finger.

Quickly, you stared at your hand, surprised to see a beautiful ring adorning your ring finger.

While you were still absorbed in examining the ring, Satoru took the opportunity to whisper to you.

"I need to let them see that you're taken," he said with a smile, "for now," he added cryptically.

Confused by his words, you couldn't shake the feeling that all of this would lead to consequences in the end.

Both you and Satoru entered the luxurious mansion, with Satoru guiding you inside with his hand on your waist.

You tried your best not to appear too stiff, knowing that any sign of discomfort would be noticed by everyone around you.

Eventually, you both stopped at the entrance of the ballroom.

"Make sure to act cool," Satoru whispered to you, and you nodded, taking a deep breath before the two of you entered the room.

The ballroom was as extravagant as expected, filled with large paintings, a lavish chandelier, and a polished floor where guests danced to the slow jazz music playing in the background.

The room buzzed with the sound of people conversing and laughing, adding to the lively atmosphere.

You observed your surroundings while Satoru guided you to where his grandfather was, trying to maintain your composure amid the greatness and finesse of the event.

As you stopped observing the room, you finally spotted Satoru's grandfather, who was conversing with other guests, holding a glass of wine in his right hand.

"Hey, old man," Satoru greeted his grandfather casually as if he were addressing a stranger.

His grandfather turned to look at Satoru with a blank expression, but as soon as he noticed you, his face lit up with a warm smile.

"Oh! She must be your date for this event?" his grandfather asked, his attention fully on you and Satoru as he excused himself from the other guests he had been speaking with.

He extended his hand toward you as if expecting a handshake.

You looked at Satoru for encouragement, and he smiled reassuringly before you accepted his grandfather's handshake.

"It's so nice to meet you, Ayaka-san," his grandfather greeted you, but you were utterly confused.

"Ayaka? I'm [reader's name]," you told him, which caused the old man's smile to falter as he stared at you and Satoru back and forth.

"You're not Kobayashi's daughter?" he asked, further adding to your confusion.

"Kobayashi—what?" you turned to Satoru, seeking an explanation for this unexpected turn of events.

Satoru simply laughed, placing his hand on your shoulder and pulling you in close so you could hear him.

"Go and take some food from the buffet while I discuss some things with my old man," he instructed you.

You were about to protest, but you felt Satoru's grip tighten. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Now go, but don't stray too far from my sight," he added as he walked towards his grandfather, engaging in a discussion that felt off-limits to you.

Feeling a bit left out, you made your way to the buffet, grabbing a lavish plate as you pondered your choices.

Lost in thought, you were surprised when someone placed a cupcake on your plate, prompting you to look up at them.

"It seems you're lost in thought, madam," a boy who seemed younger than you spoke.

"Oh, sorry. It's just... I'm not used to these kinds of events," you explained.

"I could tell," he said with a smile. "I'm Isamu, Gojo-san's cousin," he introduced himself.

"Oh, I'm [reader's name], his girlfriend," you introduced yourself, but you noticed how his face became confused.

"Really? But everyone here was told that Ayaka-san is his girlfriend," he said, adding to your confusion.

Who is this Ayaka-san? If he already has a girlfriend, why would he bring you here?

"Is she that popular?" you asked him, feeling increasingly perplexed.

"Wait, you don't know her? I thought Gojo-san at least told you about her," he replied.

"If you wouldn't mind, would you like to dance with me? I can fill you in on the background of the two," he suggested, extending his hand.

You glanced at Satoru, who was still busy greeting guests, and figured it wouldn't hurt, so you accepted his hand and allowed him to lead you to the dance floor.

As you began dancing, he finally spoke. "They were playmates in their childhood. Gojo-san would throw a tantrum if Ayaka-san wasn't his playmate," he explained.

You listened attentively, but you couldn't shake the strange feeling bubbling up inside you, as if your blood was boiling.

"Everyone adores them, and it's already been agreed that they'll get married when they're older," he continued, leaving you even more puzzled and uncertain about your role in this situation.

Feeling numb from the revelation and betrayed by Satoru's omission, you couldn't help but feel like you were being cast as the villain in this family's storybook.

"But I don't know, everything changed when Gojo-san was appointed to take over his father's business, and it was mentioned that the business was dangerous," Isamu explained, adding to your confusion.

"So where is this Ayaka-san?" you asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I don't know. I thought she would come today as Gojo-san's date, but I didn't expect it to be you," Isamu replied, his tone sounding mocking to your ears.

“But I should give you a warning, Don't believe or fall for his concerned face; you'll get yourself in trouble,” Isamu told you which made you even more confused.

Before you could respond, you felt a hand on your waist and turned to see Satoru.

"Excuse me, but you're dancing with my girlfriend," he said, his tone polite but laced with tension.

"Oh, sorry," Isamu apologized, releasing your hand and wiping it, which triggered you.

"I'll leave you two alone for some time," he said with a smile before walking away, leaving you feeling even more conflicted.

Satoru cupped your cheek, his concern was evident in his eyes.

"Hey, are you alright? Did he do something wrong?" he asked, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of being scrutinized by everyone around you.

Pushing away his hand, you looked at the ground and whispered, "I... I want to go home.”

Satoru didn't respond immediately, but you could sense his frustration as he glanced around the room.

"I shouldn't have left you alone," he muttered, his words filled with regret. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you close, and together you walked out of the ballroom.

Satoru quickly led you to one of the bathrooms, entering before you and locking the door behind him.

He turned to you, finding you still avoiding his gaze, unsure of what to do next.

Taking charge, he placed his hands on your waist and lifted you, seating you on the sink.

Once you were settled, he leaned in, resting both hands on the sink as he studied your expression.

"What did you two talk about?" Satoru asked, his tone gentle but insistent.

You bit your lip, hesitant to discuss it. His hand moved to your chin, his touch soft as he advised, "Don't bite them too hard."

Your mind was swirling with conflicting emotions.

Just yesterday, you were angry with him and vowed to keep your distance, but now... the mere mention of Ayaka next to Satoru stirred a fierce jealousy within you.

Were you really starting to fall for him?

You gazed into Satoru's eyes, he looked at you with a genuine look. But then, a warning from Isamu echoed in your mind

"Don't believe or fall for his concerned face; you'll get yourself in trouble."

Conflicted and unsure of whom to trust, you couldn't bear the thought of Satoru displaying this same affection to Ayaka, his supposed childhood sweetheart.

In a split-second decision, you seized Satoru by the collar and pulled him into a kiss, letting your emotions take over.

Satoru responded swiftly, his hands finding their place on your waist as he reciprocated the kiss with equal intensity.

You felt a surge of desperation, a need for him to affirm that you were indeed his. Your hands moved to his collar, unbuttoning his clothes in a feverish haze.

Satoru allowed you to take the lead, deepening the kiss as the passion between you intensified.

You pulled away from the kiss, gasping for breath, and rested your head on Satoru's shoulder.

His hands found yours, guiding you as you helped him remove his clothes.

His whispered encouragement urged you on, and at that moment, you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming desire, allowing yourself to lose control completely.

You woke up in Satoru's room, feeling a wave of confusion and regret wash over you as the events of the previous night flooded your mind.

You remembered the passion and the intimacy, but also the emptiness that followed.

“Don't think about anything, just think of me- God I love you too much, you're driving me crazy.” Satoru's whispered declarations of love echoed in your ears last night, but you knew deep down they held no true meaning.

As you sat up, the reality of the situation hit you hard. Satoru had left you alone in his bed, a painful reminder of his indifference.

Anger and betrayal surged within you, mingling with the hurt and vulnerability.

"Fuck you, Satoru," you muttered under your breath as you clenched your fists, the sting of betrayal fueling your resolve.

Despite the ache in your legs, you pushed yourself to get dressed, every movement a painful reminder of the night before.

Before leaving, you scribbled a short note, a final message to Satoru.

"Don't come find me," you wrote hastily, the words carrying the weight of your shattered trust and wounded pride.

With a heavy heart and a resolve to start anew, you left his house behind, planning to leave the city and leave him behind for good.

#gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jjk angst #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #gojo smut #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen

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dira333 · 3 days

Text

What's in a passion? - Osamu Miya x Reader

requested by @notsochillnerd - tagging @emmyrosee bc she loves Osamu

Sometimes you really hate your boyfriend.

Yes, yes, he's perfect, you know, with his stupidly good-looking face and his muscular body and his kind heart and his awful talent and, even worse, his passion, that he follows, without a doubt.

It's worse with Atsumu, you think, because you don't love him nearly as much but he's the same. Talented, good-looking and so sure of himself and his passion that he didn't even go to College. Now he's playing for the Black Jackals like it's how the earth should turn.

"Baby?" Samu's voice is muffled through the bathroom door. You huff.

"Are you still alive? You've been in there for at least half an hour."

"The water's still hot," you yell back. Which isn't true. But you don't want to get out. As long as you're in the bathtub you don't have to learn. As long as you don't have to learn you don't have to think about your studies. And as long as you don't have to think about them you don't have to face the most annoying question of your life - what do you want to do?

Not in the way Samu asks you after dinner, wiggling his eyebrows as he waits for the answer.

Not in the way you ask Samu every time he comes home from work, hoping that just this once he'll not make dinner himself but run down to the fast-food joint with you.

What do you want to do with your life?

"Are you coming to bed soon?" Samu asks from the kitchen. You don't know what he did in there until now, it's spotless anyway.

"Mhm," you say noncommittally, typing another line. You still need to finish this assignment. And you should get ahead on your reading.

"It's after midnight, babe, you need some sleep."

"Yeah, sure." Wait, do you write this word like that? Does it even mean what you think? You open another browser tab and type it in, waiting for it to load only to be interrupted by warm hands grabbing your sides.

"You've got ten seconds to save everything before I carry you to the bedroom."

"Samu!" You whine, "I have to get this done."

"No, you don't. Well, not tonight at least. You still have three more days to finish this. You need your sleep."

"Well, what do you care?" You snap. Surprise flutters over Samu's face like butterfly wings.

"What do you mean, baby, you know I love you." He sounds distraught, so pathetic you could almost mistake him with his brother. And it's your fault and your fault only.

You do the only thing you can do in a situation like this. You cry.

It's not a comfortable thing, holding a conversation like this at one in the morning when even your bones are tired and your alarm is gearing up to call on you in a few hours for yet another tiring day.

But Samu firmly believes in "never going to bed angry" even more than he believes in "getting enough sleep".

Is it hard to admit that you're a little jealous of his passion? Or, not necessarily his passion, but that he has one? Yes. It makes you feel foolish, like a little kid pointing an accusing finger at a grown-up.

But it's true. And it's Samu. He doesn't snicker, he doesn't call you pathetic even though you'd deserve it. Instead, there's understanding blooming in his eyes.

"Do you still love me?" He asks. You nod and swear and promise that you've never loved him less. So he tucks you into bed like he'd been planning to for hours, presses comforting kisses over the furrow of your brows.

"We'll get through this," he promises. You fall asleep because you trust him.

Ginjima brings over his little cousin on the weekend. The girl's five and even though you resemble a mess more like a human being, Kaede's seriously convinced that you're her idol.

"Can we play doctor?" She asks, holding up a stethoscope.

"Where did you find that?" "T'was in the box." She points at a box in the cupboard she most definitely isn't supposed to go through. At least she didn't find anything dangerous.

"Of course we can. Do you want to be the doctor?"

"No," she shakes her head. "You're the doctor, I'm a nurse, like Momma. Toshi can be sick."

"Thank you," Ginjima snorts. "I always knew you cared about me."

"Can I be a patient too?" Samu asks, pressing a hand against his chest. "I think my heart is going to fast. Can you listen to it, Doctor?"

"Dork," you call him, but little Kaede nods and tells him to sit on the couch so that she can get to him better.

And it's weird, how easily you slip on the stethoscope. Maybe you've watched too much Grey's Anatomy on top of your lessons, have read too far ahead in your books but you have no problem finding the right spot, Samu's heartbeat like a symphony in your ears.

"It's cold," he hisses. You can't bring yourself to tease him.

"Is he sick?" Kaede asks, pulling you out of your reverie. You nod with your gravest face. "He's lovesick. No cure, I'm afraid."

Kaede gasps in shock, but Samu laughs, his body shaking, knocking into you.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Suna furrows his brows. "When did you ever have to ask, Samu?"

Your boyfriend smiles his most innocent smile. You fear the worst.

"Did you always want to play volleyball?"

Suna snorts. "Nah. And you know that." He must sense your confusion because he turns, golden eyes glinting with amusement. "I thought about becoming an influencer instead in my third year."

"Why didn't you?"

"Ah," he shrugs, "I didn't want something I like doing to turn into a job, you know? That would take all the enjoyment out. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate playing volleyball professionally, but I'm already thinking ahead, figuring out options for when I'm done with it. Unlike someone else..." He can't help but dig into Tsumu and the latter never backs down from a Challenge. Soon it's an all-out fight on the table and you're sitting in the middle of it.

Samu leans into you, head an your shoulder, mouth pressed against your ear.

"There are plenty of options," he reminds you softly, "You can still figure out what you want to do."

"'m not hungry," Samu declines your offer for snacks. That's worrying enough. He's resting on the Couch, a rare sight this early in the evening.

"You good?" You ask, smoothing a hand through his messy hair. He nods.

"'m fine. Just some weird stomach issue."

"Yeah? What are the symptoms?"

"They're gross, I don't wanna talk about them."

"Stinky?"

"Mhm."

"Did you drink enough?"

He nods, wraps your arms around you to pull you in. When you snuggle into his side like you always do, he's barely able not to flinch.

"What's hurting, boo?" You ask, now a little more worried.

"Just my stomach. I think you kneed me there a little."

You didn't, but he's unwilling to talk more about it.

Still, you can't help but keep an eye on him. He complains about pain in his lower back, convinced he pulled something when he lifted bags of rice earlier. You try to massage the area but he pulls away quickly, claiming it hurts to be touched, so you get him the heating pad you use for period pains.

He falls asleep soon after and you're barely able to get him up and into bed.

When you wake up at night to use the toilet and grab a drink you're surprised to find him flushed and feverish. Your little worry grows as you take his temperature, try to figure out what he could be suffering from.

It's like solving a riddle and every clue you have could mean a thousand different solutions.

It's only when he wakes up, parched and whiny, throwing up immediately after downing a glass of water, that the dots connect.

"Samu," you kneel next to him. "Where does it hurt the most?"

"Stomach."

You let your hands wander, just the gentlest touch until he hisses when you reach the area around his navel. Following a hunch you move down toward the lower right side of his abdomen and he curses loudly, telling you exactly what you didn't want to hear.

"Babe, get up, we're going to the hospital."

"What?" His eyes are blown wide. You press a soothing kiss to his lips. "I'm not a doctor but this looks a lot like appendicitis. I'd rather get it looked at right now instead of having you go through emergency surgery."

Is it difficult to get a sleepy, pained, sick man to the hospital with nothing but public transport and determination? Yes.

But it's worth it, you think when you explain the symptoms and the doctor nods with a serious expression, complimenting you for your swift course of action.

You get to hold Samu's hand through every step of the examination, press one last kiss to his lips when they prep him for surgery.

"I'm going to wait outside," you promise, "Call everyone who needs to know. In a few hours we're going to laugh about this, I promise."

He pulls you in, mouth pressed against your ear. "Nothing's going to happen to me with you at my side."

And maybe, you think as they wheel him away, as you wait for the first call to connect, you've never been on the wrong path.

You just lost a little sight of what it meant to be here.

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #osamu miya #miya osamu #miya twins #osamu x reader #samu x reader #osamu fluff #samu fluff

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buckttommy · 2 days

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hi jack.

what if i told you i’m a slut for well executed mcd actually and i’m listening very intently.

also having thoughts about buck being reunited with tommy’s corpse and he just wants one more minute. just one more minute. he pulls the sheet down to kiss his cleft i think. just one last time.

anyway.

hello, my love

well if you told me that, i would have to tell you that i can't stop thinking about the quiet moments that come after. tommy dies, and buck can't get to him, and that's just—that's just it, you know? tommy's been ripped from this world, the love story is over and it did not end well. but that's just the end of that story, because now... now buck has to begin another one and that one is all about how to cope (or not cope) with this massive, gaping hole in his life. and so we have the quiet moments.

moments where he waits in the hospital lobby for eddie to identify tommy's body (because eddie certainly wasn't going to put buck through that, and he'll take that one for the team if it means sparing him)

moments where he goes home for the first time after. where he sees bits of tommy everywhere, from the dishes he left in the sink, to the jacket he threw across the back of the sofa, to the towel—still damp—from his shower that morning and he just stands in the middle of it all and cannot think or feel a single thing.

moments where he brushes his teeth and does his hair and before the funeral and can't stop thinking how weird it is to go through his morning routine without tommy's quiet presence in the shower or in their bedroom.

and then, of course, the quiet moment—the last moment—buck gets to see his face. even after the morticians have made tommy look normal, he still looks like an off-center, mirror version of himself without that light, that warmth behind his face. but buck pulls up a chair beside the open casket anyway and reaches down and strokes his strokes. it feels waxy and bizarre. tommy's skin, but not. he's used to the feeling of dead flesh, which is a morbid thing to say, but it comes with the job. people live. people die. tommy was always going to die. hell, buck himself is going to die one day. he just wishes — well. it doesn't matter what he wishes. tommy feels both familiar and abnormal under his hands and it's the first thing that makes buck feel something other than numb—it just makes him feel nauseous.

he sits beside the casket and rubs his thumb over that cleft in tommy's chin, back and forth, back and forth, and is just like, "hey babe... yeah. it's been a... shit couple of days. i keep wanting to tell you about it, you know? turn to you or-or pick up the phone to call you, to just, uh, just hear your voice. but you're not—you're never there. you're never there because you're —you're here and that's... that's kind of messing with my head a little bit. you know? it's messing with my head a lot a bit, actually. anyway, uh. this isn't about me, this is about you and i just wanted to say... before everything starts and—i just wanted to say that i, um. i would—i—i—i want to say i'm okay, that i will be okay. but i'm not and i won't be. i want to crawl in there and be with you and let them bury me alive but no one will let me. eddie is sleeping next to me because he thinks i'm going to kill myself overnight and chris is sleeping in the second bedroom because he's scared too, bobby comes over every day to make sure i'm not dead on the floor and to be honest, i just wish they'd all fuck off. i love them but i love you more, and you're — you're still the only person i can say that to. you know? i-i hate the way they love me, i hate the fact that you're gone, i hate that i can't leave without doing this to them, and i hate —" he stops because he was going to say i hate you but that's not true. there's not a single version of existence in which that is true. so he just stops and sighs and gets up. kisses the cleft in tommy's chin and presses their foreheads together. "if you'd given me a chance, i would have joined you," is all he says. "suicide pact or murder-suicide or... fucking whatever. i would have joined you. i still want to. maybe i will. i don't know. i love you. i love you. i said it every day and i still don't think it was enough. i love you, i'll never stop loving you. i'll never stop wanting to love you. i—"

but at that point, people are starting to fill in the church so buck just sighs again. puts the chair back and listens to the preacher give a generic sermon about a man he didn't know, and spends the whole time contemplating the fastest, easiest way to die.

so. yeah that's what i would have to say.

#nie 🌌#jack answers mail #tv: 911 #i need a fluffy palate cleanser because OW #bucktommy #suicide //

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 2 days

Note

I have a prompt request, Lucifer realizes that Adam always wore a mask and robes that covered his entire body because he was self conscious over his looks. At first Lucifer thinks that this was caused by shame after eating the Forbidden Fruit only to find out that Adam was self conscious about his looks before that because Lilith was constantly calling him ugly. So Lucifer decides to make it his mission to help Adam feel better about himself by talking about how handsome he thinks he is. Just some Adam angst with Lucifer being the best boyfriend.

Adam did his best to avoid mirrors when he fell to Hell. He still wore his robes that covered him from head to toe but he felt naked without his mask to cover his face. As hard as he tried to keep up this air of being the hottest thing that Hell had the pleasure of viewing, on the inside he felt anything but that.

It had to be true right? Lilith told him all the time in the garden how ugly he was and that she didn't want her future children to turn out ugly like him.

Chicks in heaven wanted him, but he kept his mask on and they never seemed bothered by it, some preferred it. That only confirmed to him what he already knew.

So now as a sinner and no mask to hide his face, all Adam can do is put up a metaphorical mask. Fake it til you make type deal.

He's been faking it for a long time.....

It wasn't until after they started dating did Lucifer take notice of Adams behavior around his appearance. He never wore anything from fitting, even if Adam didn't wear his robes he'd wear clothes that were loose and hid his shape and covered nearly all of his skin.

At first he thought it was because of the apple, finding out what it means to be naked around people can have that effect.

But no, it wasn't until he noticed how Adam avoided mirrors, would only take pictures of himself if he could heavily filter them or even during sex he wouldn't face Lucifer. And when he did his eyes were closed, like he was keeping something out or the lights would be off and they would be in total darkness.

Adam had let it slip one day what Lilith had said to him all those years ago in the garden.

One night, when in bed just reading he notices that Adam had been particularly quiet that whole day. Adam was laying with his back to Lucifer. "You okay, Hun?"

Adam didn't move or reply. He wasn't asleep, he was just staring at the wall. The blanket was pulled up to his nose.

Lucifer came up behind him and held him, carding his fingers through silky smooth wing feathers. Adam shivered from the feeling. "What's cooking good looking?" He smiled when that got a snort out of Adam and a half smile. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

Adam still didn't answer. He just tucked himself in tighter.

"Adam, look at me." Slowly he got Adam to turn over to face him, but he wasn't looking at Lucifer. "Let's see those pretty eyes." Slowly, Adam lifted his eyes to look at Lucifer, they were glassy. "There you are. Now, let's move this." Lucifer nudged the blanket down until Adam's face was free of it. "There's my handsome man." He kissed Adams face.

Adam started laughing when Lucifer kissed his face all over. "Luci!" He moaned softly when his King captured his lips in a soft yet firm kiss.

"I love every inch of you. You are the most gorgeous person I have ever had the pleasure to be with." Lucifer got on top of Adam and cupped his face. "You don't have to hide from me. I want to see your beautiful golden eyes, your heart stopping smile, and your smoking hot body." Yeah Adam gained weight over the years but that was from his own depression and eating his feelings from what Lilith said. Lucifer loved his softer body, more to love!

Adam cast his eyes down, frowning. "No it's not."

Lucifer raised a brow at him. "You question your King's judgement?"

"Yeah, I think my King needs some fucking glasses."

Lucifer smikred, "My vision is just fine. Cause I see a perfect ten." He winked and laughed when Adam rolled his eyes.

"Will you stop?" Adam was smiling now, he squeaked when Lucifer started up again on kissing his face and lips again.

"Never my love. I'll never stop loving you for who you are. And who are you is perfect to me.~"

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

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gtgbabie0 · 2 days

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omg your writing is so good and ik this is kinda a basic request but could you writing something about a Finnick x reader and reuniting in district 13?🫶

-Finnick Odair x reader

{Reuniting with Finnick in district thirteen}

Sorry this took so long. Thank you so much for the request! Enjoy my lovelies!💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺

Fluorescent lights that sting the back of your eyes are the first thing you’re met with when you wake up in district thirteen. A safe haven in comparison to the Capitol, despite the coldness of the room and the firm mattress you’re lying on.

You sit up, a dull ache seizes your body and a certain tension builds between your shoulder blades. You groan in a mixture of pain and exhaustion. It’s a lot quieter here than back in the Capitol, where there’s always a distant buzz of constant noise that rings in your ears.

The coldness of the tiles beneath your socked feet sends a shiver through your body, but you push on, ignoring the pain that lingers within your bones. Walking through doors and surprisingly empty hallways, while pulling along the IV drip that’s attached to you.

You soon hear it, through a sea of voices, Finnick. He’s saying your name, begging to see you, calling out to you like a lighthouse does to a boat and it causes a surge of adrenaline to wash over your achy body.

Without hesitation you rip the IV out, rushing past people through tear-blurred vision. The doctors try to urge you to stop but their pleas are drowned out by Finnick and the need to be close to him.

Finnick is rendered completely speechless as he sees you, the exhaustion that lingers heavily underneath your eyes makes his heart ache with guilt that he couldn’t do more. He holds you close, harbouring your body within the safety of his arms not willing to let go… not again, not ever again.

“You’re okay… you’re okay.” He breathes, both a statement and a promise. His hand reaches to hold your head against his chest, the beat of his heart calms you like a sea chanty.

His lips meet your own, slotting together like pieces of a puzzle. His nose bumps against yours as he kisses you so softly and yet so desperately that it sends a tingle down your spine.

The people around you clear away with soft murmurs, giving well-deserved space to the pair of you as you both reunite.

“I thought… they told me-” You decide not to finish that sentence, cutting yourself off with a soft gasp, because neither of the things they told you were real. Finnick was here and alive still looking at you with love in his eyes.

His big hands cup either side of your tear-stained face, tilting your head up gently to look at him. His thumbs brushing away any stray tears.

“None of it was true… not a word.” He says with so much conviction, a tone that carries a certain understanding, that the doubt in your mind ebbs away for now.

His expression softens when you nod, the way you lean into the warmth of his palm and how your eyes flutter close ever so slightly at his touch. His breath catches in his chest, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this?” He whispers, voice quivering slightly. “Every waking hour, honey.” His fingertips trail along your cheek.

“Me too Finn… I was so scared I was never going to see you again.” The way your voice strains is enough to make Finnick's knees weak with devastation.

“I was never going to let that happen.” He promises, pressing a kiss against your forehead letting his lips linger for a moment in hopes to soothe you.

You press your face against his chest as if you were trying to hide away from the world, tears staining his shirt. “You’re safe… I’ve got you, honey.” He whispers, fingers brushing through your hair gently.

His hands trail down along your arms, his fingertips skimming over the spot where the IV drip was inserted. “Let’s get you back into bed, yeah?” He smiles softly, his arm supporting you as he guides you back down the hallways.

“You’ll stay? I don’t think I can sleep another night without you.” You whisper softly, voice hoarse from all the crying.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight baby… not in a million years.” He swears, helping you back into bed. Fluffing up your pillows and pulling the blankets over your legs.

Finnick sits on the edge of the bed, helping you drink and eat. His hand holding your own, fingers entwined with yours as he peppers loving kisses along your knuckles. The future holds an eerie uncertainty but there is one thing Finnick is, without a shadow of a doubt, certain of… he’d never leave your side again.

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banquetwriter · 3 days

Text

୨୧ invisible scars ୨୧

this was the request sent via DM: 1.fluff

2. Johnnie Guilbert

Hey! I love your writing and I was hoping if you could do one about Johnnie Guilbert x reader where the reader has hyperesthesia and they are feeling sad because of how people don't understand her and take her condition seriously and Johnnie comforts her? It would mean a lot to me since I have struggled with hyperesthesia. Thank you for your time! xx @tacuuuu

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ Jake being a dick lol, mentions of pain, reader being sad

summary: ʚ Johnnie defends your invisible illness ʚ

Words: 950

An: so sorry I have been sucking lately I'm literally dying lol, also there is very little online for hyperesthesia so I did my very best haha 🖤

Your whole body was riddled with the feeling of pins and needles. It was numb with pain, the occasional burning sensation coming in waves across your body. It was the third and last day of Coachella weekend two, and your body was wrecked.

You had more caffeine and boos than your body could handle. It was about 2:30 and it was time to start getting ready and pregame. Your muscles felt like they were guitar strings that had been played too much.

You took a deep sigh tightening the snuggly soft blanket you had wrapped yourself in. You sat not listening to the conversations around you. “Y/n!!” Tara shrieked looking at you. You reluctantly moved your head up to look at her. She was halfway done with her makeup already and had her hands placed on her hips.

“I'm sorry Tara but I'm probably not going to go tonight. I will just crash into Airbnb,” you mumbled with a sorry expression. “Y/nnnnn!” she whined, turning around to keep getting ready. “I know I know, I’m sorry Tara.” you apologized flopping back on the couch.

Suddenly you heard the door open, you peeked out of your blanket to see Jake and Johnie walking through the door. A small part of you was so relieved to see Johnnie. You knew he would understand like he always does.

He is always there for you, his touch seemingly a remedy for your pain. You sit up and pout watching Johnnie move his way to you. Jake opens the fridge and pulls out a drink. “Hey, sweetheart,” Johnnie mumbles, wrapping his arms around you.

You sink into his touch, feeling your nervous system calm down. “Bad pain day?” he asks as you close your eyes. You take a deep breath milking this moment in. “Yeah, not sure what brought it on,” you mumbled, Johnnie kissed your forehead humming against your skin.

You opened your eyes and smiled at your boyfriend. You took in his outfit. God, he looked so damn fine. “Shit, you're looking like a smoke show,” you remark, eyeing him up and down. He rolls his eyes with a grin.

Jake walks over to the two of you while wiggling his hips back and forth. “You two crazy cats ready to have one hell of a last day?” he asks while taking a sip from his drink. “Oh, I'm not going anymore,” Johnnie says nonchalantly. Both you and Jake snap your heads towards him.

“No way Jose!” Jake says, putting his hand on his chest in shock. “What?” you ask, pulling away from Johnnie’s arms slightly. “You're in pain. You need to be taken care of today. I'm not just gonna leave you.” he said, meeting your eyes.

“Nuh-uh, you're joining us!” Jake yelled out looking at Johnnie. “Johnnie, don't ditch them!” you whisper screamed. “Y/n you're having a bad day I'm gonna be here for you,” he promised.

Your heart swelled with adoration at his words, an equal part of guilt. Your worst fear was coming true. You were dragging others down with your disability. “Dude y/n says it's fine! Just come get drunk.” Jake says encouragingly.

“No dude,” Johnnie says calmly, just shaking his head. You felt a little awkward sitting there now. You had never ever wanted to make other people suffer from what you go through. Your heart clenched with anxiety.

“Jesus Johnnie it's not even that bad. Y/n still does stuff all the time! They went on a run the other day!” Jake moaned dramatically, bending his knees for emphasis. You cringed at his words. While it was true some days you had energy others you certainly did not and this was one of those days.

Before you could defend yourself Johnnie was quick to step up. “Dude that's not how it fucking works. Not everyone's issues are visible, you know that. They are at real risk with their blood pressure being so high. So no I'm not going I'm going to stay and take care of my girlfriend ok?” Johnnie says, his eyes open wide with anger.

Jake had looked like a kicked puppy. He looked over at you with a small sad smile. You had almost forgotten you were there for a second, finding it hard to believe anyone as incredible as Johnnie would defend you like that.

“Hey um, I'm sorry y/n I swear I didn't mean it like that. It's totally ok if you need rest some days, I was being a little bit of an idiot.” Jake sheepishly admits. You open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out. You shoot a quick glance at Johnnie before you look back at Jake.

You take a deep sigh before calming him down. “Don't worry man. If I could change it I would,” you mutter before standing up and making your way to your ‘bedroom’.

You sink into your bed, no longer feeling the comforting touch of Johnnie. And thankfully it wasn't long before he walked into the room. You didn't turn to look at him at all, you just let him walk over to the bed.

You hear shuffling for a minute before the bed dips down with his weight. His arms wrap around your torso pulling you into him. You let your eyes close as his comfort slowly dulls the numbness in your body.

“Thank you,” you mumble against the pillow. “Of course,” he says softly. “You will never be too sick for me. I'm always right here,” he mumbled a second later. Neither of you moved, but you could swear when you were having a better you would tell him how greatful you were.

#jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie x you #johnnie guilbert angst #johnnie x reader

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aii-ki · 3 days

Text

9:34pm—

﹒ @Yang Jungwon ﹕☆

﹟ Summary · Jungwon's your best friend who's a little (a lot) obsessed with you and is rlly flirty ㅤׂ

┆Note's﹒I went to the enha concert in Tacoma and Wonnie's bias wrecking me so hard rn :(, also this was written rlly quickly and its not proofread so.. I'm sorry, but I'm working on the first chapter of project, love solomon so look out for that ♡

9:34pm — The phone rings "Wonie" appears on screen, a mix of surprise and delight on your face follows

Jungwon was supposed to be grounded—you too hadn’t hung out in a few days which was a lot to Jungwon, you could never spend longer then an hour away from him in school without him tracking you down and following you around like a puppy dog, so a few days? The poor boy must be losing his mind.

"Jungwon? I thought you were grounded" A slight chuckle escaping your mouth "I am" you could tell he was grinning through the phone "i snuck my phone back" "Are you dumb? You‘ll get in trouble" "I had to talk to you, haven’t heard your pretty voice in forever" Usually Jungwon's flirty choice of words never phased you much, but his tone of voice mixed with the raspiness from being sleep put chills down your spine "Ohh so you missed me?" "Of course i did, who wouldn’t." his voice trailed off into a whisper, making you chuckle at his drowsy state "Plus my parents went to sleep a lot earlier then usual which means this is my one chance to talk to you" "Using your only chance to talk to me? I’m honored" Friendly sarcasm lacing your voice "I missed you alright? Making it worse, Im not even aloud to talk to you in school, im so busy with exam‘s. I’m going crazy baby" Again this language wasn’t new to you when it came to Jungwon, but something’s hitting different tonight. "Yeah? You should come over then baby" You wanted to tease him but he went silent, almost as if actually considering it "I’ll be there in 10" "Jungwon no i was kidding." "I want to see you" You‘d never called him anything like that before. He was hopeful you weren’t kidding "No you‘ll get in trouble... last time you tried to sneak out you got caught before you even had your shoes on. Don’t be dumb wonnie" "Okay okay.. just stay on the phone with me baby" "Deal" "Good. Iv missed you" "I know wonnie, you‘ve told me like 5 times" "It‘s true though…" "…I can’t go this long without talking to you. It feels like i haven’t seen you in forever, i’m having withdrawals" A sleepy chuckle leaves your mouth "You‘re so clingy wonnie.." "Mm only for you." His voice was deep and quiet Something about him tonight is driving you crazy "Don’t know how much longer i can go without touching you" Why‘d he say it like that.. I know what he means but why did he have to say it like that. "Hearing your voice.. staring at you in class." "That‘s why you‘re failing english." You thought maybe, just maybe, changing the subject will get him to stop making you feel like this "That‘s okay. English isn’t as important" He brought it right back "Jungwon…" You let out a small whine of his name, making him smirk "What? It‘s the truth" "You should get some sleep wonnie" "You said you‘d stay on the phone" He sounded almost offended "You sound so tired though" "Mmm i am but that doesn’t matter, i wanna talk to you.. Just stay on the phone okay? Keep talking to me, i’ll fall asleep eventually" "You can’t fall asleep if i’m talking to you the whole time stupid" "Of course i can, your voice is so soothing baby." Hes so flirty tonight, more then usual. "Okay, fine. But only if you promise to actually get some sleep." "I promise." "Good. Goodnight wonnie" ---- "Goodnight my pretty girl"

His pretty girl? If only

✧ ˚ ࿔ @seungki.!! · ˚ *

#jungwon #enhypen #yang jungwon #wonnie #jungwon fluff #lovejungwon #cats

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 2 days

Note

“Nice girls also aren't going for a 40-something "but Daddy I can fix him" junkie drunk with untreated mental illness and possibly a paranoia disorder.” Sometimes I wonder if they regret marrying. They both had people tell them to slow down and get to know each other and we all know how that turned out. I’d say she’s back to where she started when they met but she’s not. She doesn’t have a blog like the Tig (it wasn’t big but it was something and it had a focus). Yes, she’s given out jam but that’s it, there is nothing else so far. ARO is just a website right now. Yes, her house is bigger, but if rumors are true, it’s not insurable due its location (fires and mudslides) and its daily maintenance costs have to be a drain. Yes, she has a title but no one cares about it except her. Yes, she’s more well known now but does not have a good reputation in several countries and most people just aren’t interested.

As for him, for as awful as he’s shown himself to be, he did give up pretty much everything for her. Again, it was a choice he made even after his friends and family warned him. I’m not surprised he’s floundering now.

I wonder if they’ve had moments of whether or not this marriage and all it entails is worth it. Sometimes getting what you wish for comes at a price.

I think Meghan still thinks everything she’s gone through has been worth it. Her life has completely changed - she has a $14 million mansion in Montecito, she’s besties with the Kardashians, she’s spent private time with the most iconic royal family, she has designer clothes, she has people working for her, she gets to talk about herself, she has her own Netflix show and a podcast, and she gets to travel for free around the world on other people’s money.

Remember where she was in 2015 when this started: a 2-bedroom rental condo in Toronto, a job she wasn’t very important in, Canadian socialite friends that no one in the US knew at all, mall clothes, a blog no one followed, she had to talk about work instead of herself, and she had to pay for her own traveling (which she subsidized through her blog that no one really paid attention to)a

Yeah, she also has money problems and a husband who doesn’t give two cents about the way he looks and smells (allegedly) and her kids are the subjects of some nasty conspiracy theories. But all that can be ignored with “out of sight, out of mind.” So she doesn’t really see this as consequences, the way you or I would.

She loves this life. She loves that people know who she is and she loves that we have opinions of her. It doesn’t matter if we love her or hate her, as long as we feel something about her. Indifference will be what kills Meghan; we see this in the way the BRF and Hollywood bigwigs are treating her. They’re completely indifferent to her and what she does and it’s fun to watch her scramble and beg for their attention.

Unlike Harry. Harry wants to be loved and respected. He wants us to fall over ourselves in worship and praise of his name. Indifference kills him too, but hatred and dislike are even worse. That’s what William does - he’s not indifferent to Harry, he’s actively staying away and making his dislike known by refusing to meet with him or answer his phone calls.

So Harry sees the consequences of this marriage much more than Meghan does because he has literally lost everything; he lost the status that made people respect him, he lost the friends that liked him, he lost a public that adored him, and he lost the family that loved him.

That’s why Meghan has to be really strategic with the divorce, if she’s the one who leaves. Harry has literally and metaphorically given everything up for her. She’s going to have a very hard time convincing the court of public opinion that she’s miserable being attached to Harry because of all that he’s lost and gave up for her.

#brf #sussexes #theories

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lau219 · 3 days

Text

Enemies with Benefits

Part 2

Part 1 here

…………………………………………………………………………….

When she didn’t see any of them for the next three nights, Y/N was hopeful that their previous encounter would be their only one, and that she’d not have to deal with any of the Shelby men again. She’d gotten word before they’d ever entered her club that they had just purchased the only place left besides hers in the city that hadn’t yet come into Shelby ownership, and due to the reputation these guys had built for themselves, she knew she should’ve been prepared for an ambush.

The Shelby family was influential, greedy, and full of men who thought that money meant control, even though they already had more money than God. The simple fact was, they didn’t need her place to maintain their wealth. They hadn’t needed the last four places they’d purchased. They simply wanted to own everything for the sake of owning everything. Well, fuck that.

After arriving at work that night, Y/N headed out into the club with one of her managers, Elise, who was briefing her on how things had been going that night so far. They were down a bartender, and Y/N prepared to get behind the bar to help them get caught up when Elise gave her a final update.

“Oh, and there’s a guy at the bar who asked for you. He’s been here about an hour, waiting for you.”

“Huh?” Y/N squinted as she looked up from her phone. “What guy?”

“That one,” Elise said, pointing out in front of them.

Turning her head, Y/N followed Elise’s finger, and her stomach flipped as her eyes landed on who she was pointing to.

Sitting at the far end of the bar, a tumbler in one hand and a cellphone in the other, was Tommy Shelby. As if on cue, as soon as Y/N’s gaze landed on him, he looked up, and their eyes locked from across the room. A smile slowly appeared on Tommy’s face as he looked at her, but Y/N knew her own expression was not quite as friendly as she finished processing the fact that he was there.

“Who is he? Are you dating him?” Elise asked as Y/N turned back to her. “He’s hot.”

“He’s also a pompous prick,” Y/N replied. “True to Shelby reputation.”

“He’s a Shelby?” Elise asked, raising her eyebrows. “Wait, are you selling this place? Is that why he’s here?”

Y/N looked at Elise.

“No, I’m not selling this place – you know I’d never do that.”

“I heard how they bought out the other place uptown,” said Elise. “Now we’re the last club they don’t own.”

“Yeah,” Y/N replied. “And it’s going to stay that way. Now do me a favor and don’t tell anyone else who he is. I don’t want everyone freaking out thinking I’m selling this place or that their jobs are on the line. Just keep it quiet, and if he asks you anything about this place, don’t answer him, ok?”

“Ok,” Elise replied with a nod. Then she and Y/N parted ways, and Y/N was left to figure out how quickly she could get Tommy Shelby out of here.

Of course he’d come back. She’d been dealing with men like this the entire 8 years she’d owned this place, and they never gave up after the first try. She’d been silly to hope that she wouldn’t see any of them again, and as she headed behind the bar, she decided to put an end to this before he wasted any more of her time.

Their eyes locked again, and Tommy enjoyed the visual of her as Y/N walked towards him, his arrogant smile still present as she approached. Stopping in front of him, Y/N rested her forearms on the bar top as Tommy slipped his phone back in his jacket pocket.

“I told you already, I’m not selling this place. So you can skip whatever pitch or new angle you thought you’d try tonight and just head on home.”

“Hello to you, too,” Tommy replied, still smiling. “Do you greet all your patrons this way? I don’t know that everyone would find it as amusing as I do.”

Y/N glared at him.

“You’re wasting my time,” she said.

“You approached me, love. I’m simply here for a drink,” Tommy replied.

She glared again.

“Why not pay a visit to literally any other club in town? As the owner, you’ll get your drink for free.”

“And miss the opportunity for sparkling conversation with you? Not worth it.” Tommy took a sip from his glass and then looked at her again. “You look sexy as hell, by the way.”

Y/N scoffed in offended disbelief. The absolute nerve and arrogance of this guy was intolerable.

Still looking at her, Tommy lifted his glass again, but before it made it to his lips, Y/N reached out and grabbed it out of his hand, dumping the contents into the sink next to her behind the bar and then setting the glass back down.

“Oh, look at that, drink’s all gone,” she said with feigned remorse. “Time for you to be on your way, Mr. Shelby.”

God damn, she was a pistol. And Tommy fucking loved it. He made a face of amused indifference and then spoke.

“Nah, think I’ll stick around anyway. You’ve made me feel so welcome that I couldn’t possibly leave now and risk offending you.”

“You offended me the minute you walked in the door,” Y/N replied.

“I told you, love, I’m just here for a drink. No ulterior motives on the agenda tonight.”

Before she could respond, one of the bartenders called to Y/N, and she looked over her shoulder and told them she’d be right there. Turning back to Tommy, she narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t keep my staff from helping the customers who actually matter,” she said to him.

Tommy smirked as she stepped away, and after several minutes of watching her, he noticed some of the tension on her fade away as she began working alongside her bartenders, taking orders and making drinks for the countless patrons that approached the bar.

It was the real reason he’d come here tonight – to assess her. He knew how successful this place was, and he was intrigued to see exactly how Y/N ran this place that made it so. As he watched her from his seat, it quickly became apparent that she was not an owner who played the owner card.

She dove right in with her employees, picking up the slack wherever it was needed while still managing her staff and taking care of patrons. She knew how to make a drink, how to handle a rowdy customer, and how to keep everyone happy. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, and she was a hell of a multitasker. This was the knowledge Tommy had come here for tonight, and he was pleased to learn that her work ethic fit right in with his plan.

Although he hadn’t said a word since she’d walked away from him, Y/N found it impossible to forget that Tommy Shelby was still sitting at the end of her bar. She could feel him watching her, and she refused to meet his eyes any time she had to be down by his end of the bar. She didn’t believe for a second that he wasn’t there because he was still after this place, and she just hoped that if she kept shooting him down and making this hard, he’d eventually give up.

After a while, Y/N got stuck towards where Tommy was seated as a large bachelorette party had gathered at that end of the bar and were demanding a plethora of mixed drinks and shots. Turning to reach for several glasses from the back-up supply under the sink, Y/N unintentionally looked at Tommy and saw that someone had refilled his drink at some point. As their eyes met, his glass was mid-air, and he winked at her over the rim as he took a sip. In spite of herself, she began to smile in amusement, but quickly caught it and turned back to the large group of ladies as she and one of her bartenders continued to fulfill their drink orders.

After they’d finally caught up and there was a moment of calm, Y/N began gathering up the mess of shot glasses, cocktail napkins, and toothpicks that the women had left behind.

“You’ve got quite the job description here, love,” Tommy said to her as she wiped off the counter. “Most owners don’t bother with actually helping their staff.”

“Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises,” Y/N replied, not looking at him.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Tommy replied.

She looked up at him then, and when their eyes met, she once again almost smiled, but her attention shifted when one of her security guys walked past.

“Hey, Trevor, take this.” She then reached into her shirt and pulled out an ID card from her bra. Tommy’s eyes flashed to her chest, and he smiled to himself as he caught the briefest glimpse of the strapless lace inside her shirt. Y/N spoke again as she reached the card across the bar top.

“Tell Marcus that if he lets one more underage kid in here, he’s fired,” she said to Trevor. “That’s the third fake ID I’ve been handed this week.”

Further impressed, Tommy watched her as she gave another instruction to the guy before sending him off. So not only was she not afraid to get her hands dirty, but she also paid attention.

“Not too keen on letting the kids have some fun?” Tommy asked her.

She looked at him.

“Not when it jeopardizes my business,” she replied seriously. “It only takes one underage kid getting drunk and smashing into a telephone pole to get this whole place shut down.”

Tommy nodded, then pulled a cigarette out of the pack he’d set on the bar top.

“You know smoking kills you, right?” Y/N said to him.

“I would think that’s what you want, eh?” he replied with a smile.

Finally, Y/N allowed herself to smile back.

“Well, yes, but I’d imagined much more interesting ways for you to go than that.”

Tommy chuckled, and once again, Y/N was temporarily distracted by his gorgeous smile.

“Speaking of going, I’m afraid I’ve got to head out,” Tommy said to her.

Clicking her tongue, Y/N cocked her head.

“Darn,” she replied sarcastically.

Smiling again, Tommy stood from his stool and buttoned his suit jacket, and when he looked at her again, their eyes met a final time.

“I’ll see you soon, love,” he said.

Then he turned and walked out, leaving Y/N wondering if his last sentence had been a promise or a threat.

Part 3

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @febris-amatoria @natalie--rushman @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree

@beastofburdenxo @aphroditeslover11 @garrison-girl-08 @meister95 @hannibellector

@betty21rose @allie131313 @neonpurplestars89-blog @fuseburner @devotedlyshadowytheorist

@ceirinen @hudson-bay-girl @runnning-outof-time

#modern tommy shelby #modern tommy shelby x reader #modern tommy #modern tommy shelby smut #modern peaky blinders #18+ only

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imagines--galore · 2 days

Text

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen

A/N: Okay so for the sake of moving things along, I'm gonna be compressing episodes together. Don't worry, we'll still get pivotal moments and plenty of angst inbetween as well as Orora's interaction with the Gaang, plus Zuko's turmoil, but just a bit fast paced cuz I know we're all excited to get to the Day of the Black Sun. One more thing, this chapter tends to get a little.....dark at some points. Orora is dealing with the trauma of Zuko betraying her, and Zuko is just warring with himself. So yeah, neither teenager is in a good place right now. BUT! Other then that! Happy reading lovelies!

He was tossing and turning in his sleep. Half formed thoughts and lucid dreams plagued his mind. Nothing made sense.

Nothing except...........the thought of her.

Opening his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of Orora sitting on the edge of his bed. "Can't sleep huh?" She asked, sounding just as amused as he remembered.

Ignoring her, he sat up, running a hand down his face. "So whats on your mind?" She asked, standing to move around the room. "The Fire Lord?" He shook his head, though he was lying. "Azula?" Another shake of his head. "Aang?" She sounded a lot closer.

He was about to shake his head when something compelled him to look up and meet her gaze. It was almost scary, how clearly his mind could conjure her. And not just the physical aspect of her. He could actually imagine her warmth, and smell the perfume she had taken to wearing in Ba Sing Se.

"Of course, you're not thinking of me." She continued, sitting in front of him. "I mean why would you? I mean nothing to you." The look she fixed him with was once more a mirror image of what he remembered from the catacombs. His heart leaped in his throat.

A sudden flicker of color had his eyes darting towards the string on his finger.

It glowed a feeble blue, before disappearing.

He looked back up.

She was gone.

————————–

"I think I see a cave below." Aang called out from beside her, though she could barely see through the cloud that drifted around them.

Sokka hushed him instantly. "Shh! Keep quiet!" Orora rolled her eyes as she scratched Momo behind the head. "Sokka, I doubt anyone is around this place for miles." She pointed out to which Sokka shot her a glare.

Appa landed as Aang dissipated the cloud he had been airbending around them. Sokka jumped down and looked around suspiciously before crossing his arms and turning to look at the rest of them as they disembarked from the Bison.

He looked so much like a father disappointed at his children that Orora had to suppress a smile to lest she annoy him further.

"Great job with the cloud camo." He praised Aang, to which the young Avatar smiled. "But next time, let's disguise ourselves as the kind of cloud that knows how to keep its mouth shut." He ended, before moving to look around once more.

"You gonna check under the rocks for booby traps Sokka?" Orora called out, unable to keep from taking a jab at the boy's suspicious nature.

Toph, who was standing next to her, and who also couldn't let such a golden tease Sokka opportunity go to waste added. "Yeah, we wouldn't want a bird to hear us chatting up there and turn us in." Aang and Katara, who had been holding back their smiles, smothered their giggles.

His face set in an annoyed scowl, Sokka rounded on all four of them. "Hey, we're in enemy territory." He pointed above his head where a few birds sat atop the boulder right behind him. "Those are enemy birds." He whispered harshly. One of the Toucan Puffin jumped onto his head and screeched.

"Maybe he thinks your ponytail is a friend." This time the other three did start laughing out loud as they walked towards the cave Aang had seen earlier. Grumbling under his breath, Sokka followed after them, though he did not stop in his.........reconnaissance. He brushed past Orora, prompting the girl to scowl at him in annoyance.

The group stood around as Sokka continued to investigate, and once he was satisfied he stood up straight and grinned. "Well, this is it. This is how we'll be living until the invasion begins. Hiding in cave after cave after cave after cave." His head fell lower and lower as his voice lost the enthusiasm behind it and his shoulders slumped.

Katara rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. "Sokka, we don't need to become cave people. What we need is some new clothes." She said, gesturing to herself as well as the rest of the group. Aside from Sokka, who wore the Fire Nation Soldier uniform, all four of them were wearing clothes of their respective nations, except for Orora, with cloaks thrown over their shoulders.

Orora glanced down at herself and grimaced. "Yeah, I think red on green is a little out of fashion." She flicked the front of her dress in annoyance. "Besides if we get Fire Nation clothes we can just walk around in the open no?" She continued, turning to look at her friends.

Aang nodded. "Yeah, blending in is better than hiding out. If we get Fire Nation disguises, we would be just as safe as we would be hiding in a cave." He finished with a big grin.

Having taken to sitting down on the stone floor, Toph nodded. "Plus, they have real food out there. Does anyone want to sit in the dirt and eat cave hoppers?" The girl punched the side of the cave, causing several hoppers to jump out. Feeling a shiver run up her spine, Orora quickly stepped a little ways away from the creepy crawlies, and tried very hard not to look at Momo who was chomping on one of them.

Sokka sighed before looking at Momo. "Looks like we got outvoted, sport." He said, before cheerfully proclaiming. "Let's get some new clothes."

Seems the thought of not living in a cave all the time cheered him up.

And for once luck was on their side.

All five of them crouched behind a rock that overlooked a Fire Nation home with a waterfall nearby. There were rows upon rows of clothes hanging over natural steam vents. As her blue eyes darted from one clothing item to the next, Orora contemplated on what to take.

"I don't know about this." Aang whispered. "These clothes belong to somebody."

Katara, who had been on her one side, jumped out from behind the rock. "I call the silk robe!" She called, grabbing two outfits.

The other waterbender was quick to follow. "No fair Katara! I had my eye on that!"

Aang blinked as the two girls began to race between the maze of clothes, darting to and fro, examining clothes, and picking the ones they liked and leaving what they didn't. "But if it's essential to our survival." He mused, before he too perked up and jumped over the rock. "Then I call the suit!"

Though there was a flurry of activity inbetween the clothing lines, each of them was discrete as they grabbed clothes here and there. Anything they wouldn't need would be returned, but for now grabbing as many garments seemed to be the best way to go about it.

Soon they had all picked out their clothes and moved away to quickly change. Orora looked at what she had picked out. A pair of pants that slid over her legs, sitting loosely and ending just below her knees. Pulling the laces on the edge, she was able to create a slight ruffle once she tied it up. She paired it with a shin length skirt wrapped around her waist, but had made a slight modification by splitting the sides of the skirt to allow her legs to move better.

Her top was a deep red bandeau, with gold accents along the edges, that left her shoulders and part of her navel bare, revealing soft brown skin. She pulled on a pair of armbands that came up to her elbows. They were the same color as the top, and the ends were tipped in gold.

A nearby shed had revealed several shoes within. With a shoe size that was a little tough to find, Orora had taken the first one that fit her. They were a dark brown with a golden stripe down the front to the tip and came up to her calf. Pulling them on, she turned her attention to her reflection.

Now that her hair was long enough, she was able to make a braid that circled around her head like a crown, keeping stray strands out of her face.

Pursing her lips, she twisted this way and that, wanting to see herself from all angles. It wasn't her first choice of outfit, but she didn't have many options. Besides, it felt strange to be wearing red when all she associated with that color was fear.

She missed wearing blue, the girl suddenly realized, sighing to herself. Now she understood why Zuko had hated the colors of the Earth Kingdom. He had missed the colors of his Nation.

A scowl creased her features. Why had she just thought of him? He didn't even deserve a single second of her time.

Growling to herself, and ignoring the way her heart twinged, she bundled up her clothes and threw them into the river, causing her reflection to ripple.

————————–

Once they had all reconvened, the small group walked into the nearby city to purchase some other items they needed. Accessories to go with their now outfits.

Katara bought a new necklace, swapping the one she wore. Toph chose a headband, Sokka picked out a top knot. Aang, already wearing a headband, didn't pick anything out. Orora took a simple hair clip that would keep her braid in place.

Now for the next problem.

Food.

"I'm starving!" Toph groaned. Her complain was followed by a rumble from her stomach. Katara smiled as she patted Toph's shoulder in reassurance. "Don't worry, that's what we're gonna do next."

Before stepping out into the street, they stood behind a wall, waiting for Aang to finish hiding Momo.

Seeing him pat down Momo's ears and hide him inside his shirt, Orora raised an eyebrow. "You sure he won't get out Aang?" She asked, to which he grinned. "Momo knows how to keep still, don't you buddy?" He nearly stuck his face into his shirt. The poor animal responded with a series of chitters.

"I used to visit my friend Kuzon here a hundred years ago." Aang said in a cheerful tone. "So, everyone just follow my lead and stay cool. Or, as they say in the Fire Nation, 'stay flamin'." He walked out from behind the building. With a brief look of confusion she shared with Katara, the rest of the followed after him.

As they looked for a restaurant, Aang continued to greet people n the strange lingo he had learned a hundred years ago. "If he keeps saying that we're definitely gonna get noticed." Toph stated.

Finally finding a restaurant, they all moved to step inside but Aang stopped. "Oh, we're going to a meat place?"

Sokka shrugged. "Come on, Aang, everyone here eats meat. Even the meat!" He pointed towards a hippocow who was consuming a piece of meat.

Aang grimaced. "You guys go ahead. I'll just get some lettuce out of the garbage." Katara waved at him before they entered the building. "Stay out of trouble." Orora called over her shoulder. Aang gave her a playful salute.

————————–

It turns out, she didn't have much of an appetite.

And given that she felt a little restless, Orora decided to walk back to the cave by herself, leaving Sokka to nearly eat the whole restaurant out.

She took her time, looking around at the buildings, and watching the Fire Nation civilians go about their everyday lives. It seemed so strange, to be walking through the enemy and have them acting so normal. Then again they were normal. None of them were soldiers. She doubted any of them had anything to do with the war.

The young waterbender took a long while walking around and just exploring, and it wasn't until it was sundown, that she realized that it was getting late.

Changing course, she walked out of town following the stream towards the cave they would be staying in for the next few days. As she walked, her gaze slowly began to shift to the babbling stream she walked alongside.

Her steps slowed, and soon she came to a stop.

The girl stood there, staring at the water as it rushed by. Ever changing, ever shifting.

It followed it's own course, she thought, just like she had. And yet the stream seemed to have made its way in the world with no obstacles, so why couldn't she do the same?

Her obstacle wasn't physical. It was mental and emotional.

Since Ba Sing Se, she had kept her attention towards her friends and their well-being. There had never been a moment when she had been alone. And if she happened to be alone, she would try to distract herself by either training or wandering around, just as she had done just now around the town.

Now?

She was alone.

With nothing but her thoughts, and the stream for company.

And her mind went to the one person she had no desire to think of and yet.......he was always there.

At the back of her mind.

Zuko.

Her soulmate.

The boy who had decided to return to the Fire Nation. To a father who had banished him. Had burned him.

What Orora couldn't wrap her head around was the fact that he had just............left.

He'd just left.

Her and his Uncle.

Had he not thought of how his actions would effect either of them?

Had he not loved his Uncle?

Love.

She........didn't think he loved her. But he did at least care for her.

Didn't he?

Or rather hadn't he?

Did he still think about her? Or had he already forgotten all that they had shared in Ba Sing Se? All those moments when it looked like they were progressing with their friendship. All those talks they had had, sharing everything with each other.

Had all that amounted to..........nothing?

Was she nothing to him?

Had she not been enough?

That strange sensation began to creep up her throat again, she gulped it back but it took her a couple of tries before it disappeared.

She stared into the watery depths of the stream, completely missing the way her string glowed a dull red for a second before disappearing.

"Orora?"

The sound of her name suddenly echoed in her ears and she blinked. Shaking her head to clear herself of the fog that seemed to have descended upon her, the girl quickly turned her head to the source of the sound.

Aang looked at her from where he stood a few feet away, covered in dirt. "Are you alright? I've been calling out to you for a long time now?" He asked, concern in his grey eyes.

"I'm......fine." She finally responded, pushing away her morbid thoughts and forcing herself to pay attention to Aang. "Why're you covered in dirt?" She asked, wanting to change the subject lest the boy pick up on what had her mind so occupied.

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I went to play hide and explode with some new friends of mine." He said. Orora raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh, and where exactly did you make these friends?" From what the others had told her, Aang had the tendency to make friends wherever he went.

Aang grinned. "At school."

That was not the answer she had been expecting.

She blinked.

"Say what?"

————————–

Twice now he had gone to the prison.

The first time he had turned back, not even making it t the door. The second time he had walked in, threatened a guard before entering the one cell room he had been dreading to.

His Uncle's.

Not that going there had done him any good.

His Uncle had not spoken a word, and the already panicked and confused Prince had shouted a few choice words before going back the way he came.

It wasn't until the next morning, when he woke up and was playing around with his breakfast instead of actually eating it, did he realize that all that anger and confusion had morphed into something else completely.

Guilt and shame.

Zuko had wanted nothing more then to forget about it, to go about his day as if nothing had happened the night before. So when Mai had suggested that they take a private stroll to the nearby rocky outcrop that provided gorgeous views of the landscape he had almost said yes.

What had stopped him?

Memories of a blue eyed girl.

Her smile. Her presence. Her kindness. Her words. Her comfort. Her voice. Her hugs. Her laughter. Her smile. Her.............kiss.

"Thanks Mai, but I want to be alone right now." He finally responded. She gave a frown, her lips pinched.

"You know I'm getting tired of throwing hints and you not picking up on them Zuko." He flinched, thinking that maybe he had been a little dismissive of Mai's efforts to win him over.

There would have been a time when he would have actually reciprocated her feelings, and enjoyed them as well.

Now?

Now the very thought of even spending time with Mai had him feeling guilty.

As if he were going behind Orora's back.

Which was ridiculous, because they hadn't even been together officially. They'd just been friends.

But.....friends didn't kiss like they did.

Soulmates did.

Neither of them had thought of accepting the bond either, really they'd never even talked about it.

Mai had already walked off, and Zuko had barely noticed. His eyes were slightly glazed as he focused on the image of the water tribe girl he had called his friend for so many months.

If she were to see him now, she wouldn't be able to recognize him, he was sure.

Guilt and shame returned tenfold.

Though it was futile, he figured a walk along the same route Mai had suggested would do him some good. Pretty soon he was sitting atop a large flat boulder, one leg hanging over the side while the other he had pulled up so he could rest his arm on his knee.

The sun had just begun to set, casting gorgeous red, orange and yellow hues all around. He closed his eyes.

"You know its funny."

His eyes shot open and he turned his head. Orora was sitting beside him, knees pulled up to her chest. For the first time since his return home, there was a small smile playing about her lips. He stared, stunned.

"While we were in Ba Sing Se, we saw the night sky, and we watched a couple of sunrises together. But never a sunset." She turned her head so she could look at him. "I wonder why is that."

Feeling his own lips pull into a small smile. "Probably because we were too tired from being in the tea shop all day." He responded to which she sighed and nodded. "Yeah.......I just wish we had watched one together."

She lay her hands flat on either side of her body, leaning back on her arms, tilting her head back as she took in the last bit of warmth.

Zuko stared.

How was it that such a simple act would make her appear even more pretty then she already was? Had she always been this beautiful, or was his mind making her appear even more so then she already was?

Reaching out, he gently took her hand in his. Orora looked at him, surprise evident across her features. But Zuko was hardly aware of that, as he concentrated on the feel of her hand in his. Her scent as it surrounded him. And her presence that had always calmed him.

And yet.........the guilt..........the shame lingered.......

"I'm surprised to find you here by yourself Zuko. I figured you would be with Mai."

His eyes shot open and his head whipped to the side to see his sister leaning against a nearby rock wall. Her signature smirk was present across her lips as she looked at him.

"What do you want Azula?" He asked, turning his head back to it's original placement. Walking to stand in front of him, Azula cut straight to the point.

"So, I've heard you've been to visit your uncle fatso in the prison tower." Her words prompted him to slide down and stand in front of her, hands fisted in anger and glaring at her.

"That guard told you." He growled angrily, to which Azula shook her head, her smirk growing.

"No." She said, as calm as could be. "You did. Just now."

He wanted to kick himself for his own stupidity. Why did he have to go and fall for Azula's tricks every time. Still he stepped away from her and sighed. "Okay, you caught me. What is it that you want, Azula?"

His sister shrugged. "Actually, nothing." He stared up at her in disbelief. "Believe it or not, I'm looking out for you. If people find out you've been to see Uncle, they'll think you're plotting with him. Just be careful, Dum-Dum."

With that she walked off, leaving Zuko to think over what had just happened. There had to be an agenda behind her little visit. Azula didn't speak to him unless she wanted something. Or when she wanted to torment him and make his life miserable.

Too late for that, he mused to himself, lifting the hand that had held Orora's so many times.

He was already miserable.

The thread flickered a feeble blue before disappearing.

————————–

This was rather strange for lack of a better word.

She'd attended partied growing up, but they had all been rather stiff and solemn affairs.

And there was nothing stiff and solemn about the dance party Aang had decided to throw.

Kids dancing, laughing, chatting and just generally being......kids.

She stood in the corner beside the table Toph and Katara occupied, sipping from her the cup the former had earthbended for their use. The cave looked gorgeous, with hundreds of candles flickering against the walls. Music filled the air as Aang taught his new friends all the dance moves he knew from a hundred years ago.

"Who knew Twinkle-toes could dance." Toph said as she sipped her drink.

"Hope those dances are still relevant." Orora added, smiling to herself as Aang began to pull a few girls to the dance floor, who followed eagerly. Her eyes shot to Katara, and she couldn't help but purse her lips to keep from laughing at the annoyed look on the girl's face.

But she didn't have to wait long. Aang approached Katara, holding out his hand and asking her for a dance.

Orora couldn't help but smile brightly as the both of them ran to the dance floor hand in hand.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and simply stared at the two dancers. Orora recognized the dance. It was actually a series of waterbending forms that required two people to perform together. Looks like Aang had decided to put a little spin on his and Katara's fighting skills to other use.

She sighed.

They looked so happy, smiling and laughing as they glided across the floor. They deserved it. The both of them had seen too many horrors and just deserved to be happy with each other. Anyone could see why they were picked to be soulmates. If they decided to tell anyone that is.

They just fit together.

Like two pieces of a puzzle.

Like.........

Like her and Zuko had been.

Her heart constricted painfully in her chest, prompting her to gulp down her drink, as if it would get rid of the pain. Though the ache remained. While Orora went off to refill her cup, Toph's unblinking eyes followed her retreating back.

This wasn't the first time the young earthbender had picked up on the weird anomaly. And she was starting to wander what it was all about.

————————–

He was back again.

He didn't know why he kept coming back. Call it desperation. His Uncle had always been the one he turned to during his hour of need. It was upon returning to the Fire Capital that Zuko realized he had no one other then his Uncle who could give him advice and whom he could trust.

Despite the guilt he felt every time he visited him, Zuko always pushed past it.

Why?

He was getting desperate.

As he slid some food through the bars of the prison behind which his Uncle sat, he couldn't help but feel that guilt increase tenfold as he wandered what kind of food were they even giving him.

If he received any food at all.

"I brought you some komodo chicken. I know you don't care for it, but I figure it beats prison food." He said, his low voice echoing against the cold stone walls of the prison.

"I admit it." He began again after a beat of silence. "I have everything I always wanted." Not everything, an inner voice supplied, conjuring up an image of a certain waterbender girl with white in her hair. "But it's not as all how I thought it would be. The truth is, I need your advice."

Leaning forward he gripped the bars of the door. "I think the Avatar is still alive, I know he's out there, I'm losing my mind." His Uncle did not even respond. Growing desperate by the moment, Zuko continued.

"Please, Uncle, I'm so confused I need your help." His words were met with silence. All that fear, guilt and loneliness boiled down to one emotion.

Anger.

Anger he let out on his Uncle as he suddenly stood.[Iroh still has nothing to say to him. "Forget it." He declared, his hands shook with anger as he began to walk out of the room. "I'll solve it myself! Waste away in here for all I care!"

A voice called out.

"Is this how you behave with your elders Zuko?"

The boy in question whipped his head around to see Orora standing next to his Uncle behind bars. She was looking at him with such disappointment. "Stay out of it Orora!" He commanded, before walking out and slamming the door behind him.

Behind him Iroh looked up, wandering why his nephew would say such a thing. The thought of his young pupil had the old Master hoping and praying that she was safe.

Two lone tears slid down his cheek.

One for his nephew, who had lost his way, and one for his pupil, who had lost everything.

————————–

It had to be done.

This was the final resort.

He was desperate.

There was nothing else he could do.

As the man he had hired approached, Zuko lowered his hood and looked at him. "You're sure you weren't followed?" He asked the giant of a man with the metal leg. The towering figure gave no response.

"I've heard about you." Zuko continued. "They say you're good at what you do, and even better at keeping secrets." This was it. His chance to keep what he deserved.

"The Avatar is alive." He revealed, a slight tremor in his voice as he continued. "I want you to find him, and end him." After a few moments, the man nodded in confirmation. Satisfied, Zuko pulled back his hood. His heart clenched in his chest, and his stomach flipped. Despite the fact that he had hardly eaten throughout the day, he felt like he was going to be sick. He quickly hurried off, as the urge to take back his order rose in him in a wave of guilt and shame.

No sooner had he disappeared from view when another hooded figure approached, though this figure did not remove their hood, anyone who knew them would recognize the voice.

"You heard what my brother said. And no matter what, do not stop for anything."

The voice continued, smooth and without the slightest bit of tremor as it gave the orders to kill. "I will pay you thrice as much as he does if you follow my orders, and four times my weight in gold if you return with one of the Avatar's companions."

The man blinked at the figure.

"A watertribe girl, with white in her hair." Anyone else who heard the voice, would be able to pick up on the absolute glee in the person's tone.

After all, there was nothing Princess Azula loved more then tormenting her brother.

————————–

She stared into the murky waters of the river.

The voices of the rest of the group were muffled behind her as she sat a little ways apart from them.

They had arrived at the river with the town situated in the middle of it. Calling it a town was a bit of a stretch. It was nothing more then series of planks nailed together to form streets, with people living out in the open with nothing to protect them from the natural elements.

But that wasn't what had gotten to her.

It was the people.

People who were sick, children who looked like they hadn't eaten a proper meal in days. Her heart physically ached at the sight. She'd moved to suggest that they help them, with Katara taking her side, but Sokka had stopped them. They couldn't reveal who they were by using Healing abilities.

He was right though. They had to think practically. And though it went against her very nature to not help, Orora kept her gaze forward, not wanting to meet the eyes of some destitute soul she had the ability to save but couldn't.

Besides, she doubted she would be able to help anyone much, what with her own lack of strength. For the past couple of days her appetite had been completely non-existent, and she was barely sleeping. She would doze off, but then as she would begin to fall deeper into sleep, Orora would forcefully jerk herself awake.

Why?

Because of the nightmares.

Nightmares that were just as horrible as the one from the previous night, if not more. All of them included someone she loved getting hurt or tortured or being killed.

And she couldn't take it.

She just couldn't take it.

"Hey?" She blinked as her head turned to the side and watched as Aang sat down beside her. Aang. The sweetest boy she would ever meet. With a fate that was so difficult and full of obstacles that she didn't think was fair to him. He deserved so much more. So much more then always being on the run, never being a kid all the time like he was supposed to. Loosing his people, his friends, his loved ones at the hands of a mad Fire Lord. He had died, and yet somehow, he still retained his sweet nature.

How could fate be so cruel to him?

"Enjoying the view?" He asked, referring to the polluted river in a joking manner. The older girl attempted to smile, but it was a grimace at best. As she turned her gaze towards the heavens where the moon had appeared out from behind the clouds Aang frowned.

Something was wrong.

Her lips parted as she spoke. "Its strange, how fate gives you something, but then takes it away again. These people have this river, but their own superiors have taken it away from them for their own gain." She hardly blinked as her eyes shifted from the moon to the lake. "Makes you question everything, doesn't it?" She muttered, a strange look in her eyes, never once wavering from the murky water in front of her.

Beside her Aang blinked, his eyes darted to the half-eaten bowl of food beside her. "Are you.......feeling alright Orora?" He asked, the worry evident in his tone and his eyes as he reached out to place a tentative hand on her shoulder.

He felt her tense under his touch. Her back straightened, her racing mind suddenly coming to a halt.

"I'm fine Aang."

Lie.

"Are you talking about the river or about someone else?" Aang asked, testing the waters, hoping he didn't say the wrong thing.

Someone else.

Zuko.

He meant Zuko.

Her soulmate.

In a way, she was addressing him as well. Or rather she was addressing the way she had lost him. Had she lost him though? Had he ever been hers to behind with?

He had been the one to turn his back on her. To attack her friends meant to attack her.

She blinked, her eyes heavy with sleep yet she couldn't go to sleep. She wouldn't.

Not when it meant she had to see Zuko hurt or dead over and over again.

He was gone from her life, but that did not mean she did not miss him. She did.

But now was not the time to dwell on that. Instead, the older girl shrugged her shoulders in a silent response. Aang seemed to accept it, since he fell silent next to her.

Orora stayed there for a few more minutes before she stood up, getting ready to go to bed.

The food she barely touched, she gave to Momo.

————————–

Orora laughed as she pulled him along through the streets of Ba Sing Se.

"Come on Zuko! The fireworks are about to start and I'm not going to miss them." She called over her shoulder. Dropping his hand so he would follow on his own, she turned a corner disappearing from view.

Zuko smiled as he walked after her at a much normal pace.

"If I run after you anyone might mistake me for a robber chasing you or something." He called in a playful tone, as he too turned a corner and came to an open courtyard.

The scene that greeted him had the smile dying on his lips, and his amber eyes to widen in fear and panic.

There stood his father and sister, in full Royal Attire, with more then a handful of soldiers standing behind them.

But that wasn't what got his attention.

It was the sight of Orora, shackled and in his sister's grasp. There were chains on her wrists, around her throat and even her ankles. Her clothes were torn, her hair hanging in front of her lowered face as she knelt in front of his family.

"Zuko, you did not tell me you found your soulmate." Ozai spoke in a pleasant tone as he regarded his son with a look that had always frozen him in place. "That is the sort of news a son shares with his father. I had thought perhaps we were more closer then before your banishment."

The scene around him had changed.

He now stood in the courtyard of the Fire Palace, though the scene in front of him stayed the same.

His soulmate.

In chains.

Azula sighed. "Oh Zuzu, why do you insist on keeping secrets from your own family?" She purred in a tone that had more of a thread behind it then a question.

"Father, I-" He started but then fell silent when his Father held up a hand.

He shook his head. "Not a word Zuko. I would much prefer to hear a few certain words from your lovely soulmate here."

With that the Fire Lord walked forward, only to yank one of the chains. It was connected to the shackle around Orora's throat. The yank forced her to tilt her head back.

Zuko nearly threw up.

Her lips were bloody, her nose broken with dried blood staining her upper lip. One of her eyes was black, while the other was completely shut because of the swelling. There were numerous cuts and bruises all across her once unmarred brown skin.

But worst of all?

There was a burn mark on her cheek. As if she had been slapped by a hand holding a flame.

"Now my dear, I want you to take a good look at my son and tell me." He pulled the chain, forcing her to turn her head to look at him. Tears filled his eyes at the sight of her beautiful face, her one good eye betraying no emotion.

"Is he your soulmate?"

A beat of silence, where Zuko held his breath.

But then he saw it.

A lone tear escaping her one good eye.

Then she spoke the words that had his heart stopping in his chest.

"No, he's not."

His heart shattered.

————————–

With a heartbreaking cry, Zuko shot awake, his arm held out in front of him as if he were reaching for something.

For someone.

His chest rose and fell as he panted for breath, sweat lined his body as his mind played the nightmare in his mind over and over again. He could even feel sweat on his face and getting into his eyes since they were stinging so much.

He buried his head in his hands, curling in on himself where he sat.

How could he ever have thought it? How could he ever have thought of bringing Orora here? His Father would never have accepted her as his soulmate. His sister would've tormented her every single day. She wouldn't have been safe.

His eyes stung and he brushed away the sweat that stained his cheeks. Suddenly he stopped, staring at the drops of sweat that shone on his palm.

Not sweat, tears.

He was crying.

He was crying because he had nearly brought Orora to certain death if he had asked her to come with him.

What had he been thinking?

The window beside his bed was open, casting the light of the full moon on his bed. Despite the horrifying nightmare still plaguing him, he turned his head to look at the moon.

"That was horrible wasn't it?" Orora asked from where she sat at the foot of his bed. He always turned to look at her whenever she would appear like this.

But right then, he couldn't.

The image of her so hurt and burned was still too fresh in his mind.

"Don't worry, I've had the same dreams. Though in mine everyone I care about or love always die."

Finally, he turned his head, only to meet her gaze and having his heart stop.

She looked so sad.

So utterly heartbroken.

He had done that to her, he suddenly realized as she stood to walk up next to him beside the bed. He had made her so incredibly unhappy because of his choice. Because he had wanted his old life back.

He had thrown everything they had in her face and just left her.

His stomach roiled inside him, and if he had anything in it, Zuko was sure he would throw up.

She was standing in a patch of moonlight, appearing as ethereal as the Moon Spirit herself as she looked at him. His mouth opened, wanting to say something, anything to her.

But she beat him to it.

"I hope you found whatever it was you were looking for Zuko. I hope it was all worth it in the end."

He blinked and she was gone.

————————–

"Hey guys, we need to talk." Katara called out to everyone, minus Orora. The older girl had volunteered to go get some food from the nearby town they had saved a few days ago.

"About your hair loopies and how out of fashion they were so you're gonna keep this hairstyle instead?" Sokka quipped from where he was cleaning his brand new sword.

His sister glared at him. "No, this is serious. Its about Orora." Her glare melted away to a look of concern. "I'm worried about her." She revealed. Almost instantly the very atmosphere of their small camp became somber. Sokka put his sword down, Toph stopped tossing the space rock in the air, and Aang paused where he had been playing with Momo.

"She's not acting like herself." Katara continued, worry evident in her tone as she spoke. Aang sat up straighter. "You've noticed it too?" He asked, wanting to confirm her words. Sokka frowned in thought where he sat, a hand coming up to stroke his chin in thought.

"Come to think of it, she has been acting a little strange the past few days." He commented. "I mean every time I wake up at night to use the little boy's bush, she's always awake. No matter what time of night."

Aang nodded. "Yeah I mean, have you seen the circles under her eyes, and she hasn't been practicing her bending either. When was the last time any of you saw her actually practice. She was so strict about it in the first week or so since we left the ship."

Pursing her lips Katara stepped forward. "Its not just that, I've noticed she's not eating enough. She's even thinner then when we started traveling through the Fire Nation. And I've seen her give her food to Momo or Appa most of the time." Toph, not wanting to keep what she had discovered to herself sat up.

"Guys, there's something else I've noticed." She revealed. As everyone stared at her eagerly, she continued. "Sometimes, I feel her heart pause before picking back up again." She frowned. "Its strange as if her heart.......skipped a beat or something."

Aang's eyes widened in horror, a thought forming in his mind as Katara spoke. "But isn't that dangerous? Does she have a heart condition we don't know about?" She asked, looking around the group the worry clear in her eyes. Sokka, noticing Aang's expression frowned.

"You okay there Aang?" He called out, to which the younger boy pursed his lips. "I am, but I think I know why Orora is acting the way she is." He revealed. The other three stepped forward, demanding to know what he knew.

They were all worried about Orora. Where she had been the one to get them to get up every morning during those horrible days when Aang was in a coma, now she was the last one up. She would go about her day in a strange way, as if she had no desire to do what she was tasked to do.

Aang held up a placating hand. "Look what I know, I can reveal until I ask Orora. Its her secret, and I don't want to betray her. But!" He called over the sounds of protests that greeted his words. "I have an idea."

Quickly pulling out a map of the Fire Nation, he spread it on the ground. The rest of them crouched over it, heads brushing together. "We're near this waterfall and its surrounded by a lot of rocks so that will give us some cover to just have a mini-vacation." He looked at each of his friends. "We'll stay there for a few days and maybe, without the constant moving around, Orora will be able to rest properly, and even tell us whats bothering her."

Everyone looked to Sokka for confirmation, hoping that the little detour wouldn't come in the way of the route he had designed for them. But Sokka wasn't even thinking of that. He was thinking of his friend, and how sad she appeared all the time.

Her sadness was familiar to him.

Somehow.

The sadness in her eyes, was the same he had carried after Yue had died.

Nodding in determination he grinned. "Alright then Gaang. Operation Get Orora To Her Normal Self will launch tomorrow."

————————–

It was late at night, and he was sitting beside the pond he had frequented so often with his mother. The garden was empty, silence surrounded him as he stared into the clear water of the pond, the moon shining her light down on it, reflecting her silvery glow against the flat surface.

————————–

It was late at night, and she was sitting in front of the fire, while everyone else slept around her. The silence of the night was broken by the sound of fire crackling and the occasional snapping of a twig whenever the fire would eat away at the flesh of the wood. The warmth of the fire enveloped her.

————————–

He was sitting with his legs pressed to his chest, his chin resting between his knees. While one arm was wrapped around his legs, the other was held aloft in front of him, his fingers holding up the small comb he had found laying on the battle-ridden floor of the catacombs.

————————–

She was sitting with her legs pressed to her chest, her chin resting between her knees. Both her arms were wrapped around her legs, keeping herself in a semi fetal position as she stared into the fire. The fire continued to flicker, casting strange shadows against her brown skin.

————————–

This was all he had left to remember her by. A comb. A blue comb with a dragon. Ironic that it was a dragon since it was the symbol for fire. Ironic that it was blue, the color of her Nation. Or more specifically, her eyes.

Her gorgeous ice blue eyes.

————————–

The fire was all she had left to remember him by. The fire that burned within him. The fire that burned in his hands when he fought an opponent. Maybe it was her imagination, but if she stared hard enough, she could picture his eyes looking back at her through the fire.

His beautiful warm amber eyes.

————————–

His heart clenched in his chest, so painful that he actually grunted softly from the pain of it. His mind conjured memory after memory. Memories of her. Of the brief life they had shared before and in Ba Sing Se. All those moments where nothing else had mattered.

Nothing except her.

————————–

Her heart clenched in her chest, so painful that she actually grunted softly from the pain of it. Her mind conjured memory after memory. Memories of him. Of the brief life they had shared before and in Ba Sing Se. All those moments where nothing else had mattered.

Nothing except him.

————————–

He brought the comb to his chest, as if it would alleviate the pain he felt.

————————–

She had nothing to comfort her, nothing to remember him by except her memories.

————————–

He now understood why he was seeing her everywhere. Why everything he did reminded him of her. Why she plagued his mind no matter the time of day or night. Why he could not eat or sleep.

————————–

She now understood why she was feeling the way she did. Why everything she did reminded her of him. Why he plagued her mind no matter the time of day or night. Why he could not eat of sleep.

————————–

He just missed her so much.

————————–

She just missed him so much.

————————–

As they both buried heir faces in their arms, Zuko with tears stinging his eyes, and Orora with a vacant emotionless expression on her face, they both missed the way their strings glowed.

And they continued to glow throughout the night.

Fate had intended them to see the light, yet neither of them saw it.

Instead they each succumbed deeper and deeper into their mutual pits of utter despair and hopelessness.

————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos @violet-potter @rennysketch @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz @bussyvussy @punksnotdeadbutiam @ablofftoneverland-blog-blog @slut-for-menn @vyliie @army-moa75 @juwhls

#the thread of fate #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #fire lord zuko #atla zuko #prince zuko #zuko #avatar the last airbender #the gaang #zuko x oc #prince zuko x oc #prince zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #netflix avatar #avatar aang

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guywrestlingaddiction · 2 days

Text

Double Team (brief) Triumph: Stinger v Cage Thunder & Lightning Rod (bgeast.com)

We all love an underdog story, but I think deep down what we truly love is a story where our stunningly gorgeous underdog thinks he out muscles two supervillains, only to get humiliated in the end.

Stinger v Cage Thunder & Lightning Rod (bgeast.com)

SPOILER ALERT: I highly recommend viewing this match in its entirety before reading this post.

The Backstory

Our hero enters the ring sporting the optimism of a champ with a simple demand - he will take both villains on but wants to ensure that just one bad guy in the ring at a time. Yeah, good luck buddy with your opponents fighting fair and all.

Ladies and gentlemen, our strapping, lean hero versus two muscled heels.

And it's a fair(ish) fight at first with only one villain in the ring at a time. Frankly, there doesn't even seem to be a reason to fight dirty when you're two badass villains against one hero.

Stretch out our hero and show off that ripped torso.

Cage Thunder checking to make sure those abs aren't painted on. Yup they are rock solid, at least for now that is.

But sooner rather than later they both cheat and gang up on our hero, and why do they cheat? Say it with me now, simply because they can!

The Double Team

A double team on its own would be bad enough but now our hero is unmasked and is robbed of his dignity. Reese's red, flushed face simply cannot contain the pain and embarrassment he feels.

Not content with mere victory, our villains need to humiliate the young Stinger/Reese. Holds are applied longer than they need to and that smooth body is manhandled more than necessary, all of this to prove a point; they do it simply because they can.

The Triumph

Despite overwhelming odds, our hero overcomes his opponents not through skill or strength but by exploiting their major flaw - their hubris. You see, Reese has been studying them and knows these guys want him bad, so bad in fact they'll let their guard down at an opportune moment...

I mean look at the chest on Reese, they man may be lithe but he's got some power behind him.

Our hero celebrates his impossible victory against two legendary heels, but no sooner does he proclaim that good has overcome evil when trouble starts brewing underfoot. You see our hero has his own flaws and is equally susceptible to hubris as the poor guy gets cocky while tasting his triumph.

Reese: How do you like that? Two on one and I still kicked both of your ass'?!

It should come as no surprise that in the end, little Reese Wells aka the Stinger, could not hold back both supervillains. One supervillain is tough enough but two is impossible, especially not when both were enraged with defeat. With the 'official' match over, Cage Thunder and Lightning Rod unleash their full heel mode, all over poor Reese.

And with that the match is over. Now I'm sure we all like to think of ourselves as good and just, but our bad guys know us better than that. They know exactly where our true emotions stand and knew that this ending is what we really wanted all along.

#gay wrestling #bgeast.com #Reese Wells #Lightning Rod #Cage Thunder

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allfortzu · 3 days

Text

hand in hand

-- nayeon / tzuyu. 2.7k, fluff, slightly suggestive ; celebrity!tzu. MEN DNI

to be in love is to know love.

nayeon loves being in love.

she loves that fluttering feeling in her chest; loves how it makes her heart soar and skip and all of the stupid things that come with it.

how her mind ever only wanders to one person now, and how she tries to distract herself from it only to be distracted by it.

really, nayeon loves knowing that she's in love.

kookeu must feel it too, because he huffs and leaps off her lap, unable to ignore her tapping foot.

if it were any other day, she'd pout and wail for him to come back — but right now, she's brimming with so much giddiness she can barely fathom any emotion that isn't pure excitement.

when tzuyu texts back, nayeon's heart bursts.

tzuyu

almost done with the shoot :)

call her lovestruck or smitten; deeply infatuated, even — nayeon is all of these things at once.

she grabs her keys in one hand, her racing heart in the other, and sprints out the door.

i'm here, i'm here.

she probably breaks every speed limit on her way over and then some, and when breaking speed limits is no longer an option, she risks a parking ticket and runs the rest of the way.

the path is dark and they’re all covered up, but nayeon wouldn't be nayeon if she didn't know what true love looked like.

“tzuyu.”

she's clad in a cap and mask, hidden from prying eyes. though, nayeon couldn't possibly miss that familiar shine.

“unnie!”

she isn't sure how many steps it takes for her to reach tzuyu because her legs move before she can start counting. nayeon pummels into tzuyu with a puff. they both stumble with the force, but tzuyu keeps her stance steady enough to engulf nayeon just as forcefully right back.

they don't kiss, not yet; nayeon throws her arms over tzuyu's shoulders, and tzuyu gathers her up in kind, laughing, chest fluttering.

she inches down the brim of her cap when nayeon presses eager lips to her cheek, over her mask. the polyester is cold and rough, nothing like tzuyu's skin, much to nayeon's dismay, but it is enough. tzuyu giggles, shy and slightly wary; nayeon nuzzles in anyway.

“hi to you, too, stranger,” tzuyu muses. “were you waiting for long?”

nayeon buries her nose into tzuyu’s neck. it was a little long, but she'd be willing to wait longer if need be, if it was for tzuyu, so — “not at all,” she says. “you finished early today.”

tzuyu's eyes curve, crinkling adorably at the corners. “well, i had very important things to do after.”

“that so?” nayeon beams. “what kind of important things?”

“you know…” tzuyu drawls.

“do i now?”

“yeah,” tzuyu drops her voice. “like… kissing my girlfriend, and all that.”

nayeon laughs. “you make it sound so scandalous.”

“some people think it is,” tzuyu says, and nayeon knows she's right. at this point, they've been standing here hugging for so long even this might be scandalous. “i do really want to kiss you now, though.”

nayeon grins her bunny-toothed grin, affection blossoming under her skin and a giggle bubbling in her throat. if anything good could come out of being apart for longer than either of them want, it's that tzuyu's always terribly needy by the end of it — the kind of needy nayeon knows tzuyu only feels for her; the kind of silly attachment she can't say she doesn't adore or absolutely love reciprocating.

“what happened to taking me out on a date first?” nayeon jabs playfully.

tzuyu tightens her embrace, a little pleading, but still complying. “okay, dinner date first. then kisses…… then i’m staying over at yours, right?”

nayeon's expression softens. “i could stay over at yours, too — if it’s easier,” she suggests.

tzuyu has been talking about this since the day she left for her overseas shoot, but nayeon always feels like her place is lacking. tzuyu’s penthouse is bigger and nicer, and she can't bear keeping her away from her home any longer than work has.

“you probably miss home.”

“no,” tzuyu insists. “i missed you. and i like your place much, much more.”

nayeon laughs. “my dingy little one-bedroom apartment?”

“it's not dingy,” tzuyu frowns sharply. “It's cosy; much cosier than my empty shell of one.” she leads them on their way, walking in the vague direction where nayeon came from and trusting nayeon to guide her if she strays. “and it smells like you.”

“it smells like me?”

“yeah,” tzuyu says. she slips a hand into nayeon's, then tucks them into her coat pocket. “like home.”

it's a little too warm for the weather, but nayeon thinks tzuyu is wonderfully lovely for it all.

in the car, tzuyu gets a call.

nayeon watches her face fall, and she knows why it does.

“it's my manager,” tzuyu announces. she picks the call up anyway.

nayeon has never been around to hear tzuyu speak to her manager before — they're always talking in hushed voices and different rooms when nayeon's around. she's met her manager briefly, in between dropping tzuyu off at her place or picking tzuyu up from a shoot, but never any longer.

in the span of two minutes, nayeon realises why tzuyu has never tried introducing them, and why tzuyu never talks to her manager when nayeon's around.

“i don't care if you think i shouldn't be dating anyone right now,” tzuyu hisses into her phone. “i told you i'm taking a break this week, so i am. you can waste your time waiting for me outside my door, i don't care.”

nayeon can't hear the other side of the conversation, but by that point, she decides it might be in her best interest to simply tune out the rest.

when tzuyu hangs up, she tosses her phone to the backseat.

nayeon debates saying something, but tzuyu speaks up first.

“sorry.”

at this time of the night, the roads are empty, so nayeon chances a glance at tzuyu. “what for?”

“you shouldn't have had to hear that,” tzuyu says. “you know i love you, right?”

nayeon wishes she had more comforting words, but all she can think to say back is: “yeah, i know. and i love you, too.”

she takes tzuyu’s hand and hopes it’s enough.

“do they… do they know you're with me?”

“i’m sure they could tell.”

“you don't have to force yourself to meet me if it gets you in trouble, you know?”

the grip on nayeon’s hand tightens. “don’t say that — i want to do this. and i don't care if it gets me in trouble.”

nayeon squeezes back. “but i worry.”

it's not like she never knew this was going on behind the scenes — it was something that was implied the second tzuyu decided to enter this line of work, anyway — but she didn't think it would be so prevalent; that there would be people pestering tzuyu and watching her every move, even those who were meant to be on her side. and she didn't realise the extent tzuyu went to to keep these issues from her, to make sure these problems weren't as big as they were.

“you don't have to,” tzuyu huffs. “i care about you much, much more than them; i'll always put you first, i don't want you to think otherwise.”

“i know that,” nayeon sighs. “it's them i'm worried about. i know you want to keep our relationship private, but who knows what they could do?”

she sees tzuyu open her mouth to refute, only to close it before any words come out.

they fall into silence until tzuyu breaks it again.

“what should we do, then?” she whispers, and it's so hesitant it's as if she's already predicted an answer and didn't like it. “i don't want to stop seeing you, if that's what you're suggesting.”

“i'm worried, not out of my mind,” nayeon gapes. “what i'm saying is that… if you need us to lay low or something, just to get your managers off your back, i'm okay with it. and if i can't pick you up from work everyday, that’s fine, too.”

tzuyu's fingers tense. “absolutely not. you're the only thing i look forward to after work, how am i supposed to get through the day if you're not there at the end of it?”

nayeon softens. it's an achingly romantic sentiment she can't bear to ruin.

“would you just promise me you'll be careful?”

“i will,” tzuyu assures. “but i'm also ready for whatever they could throw at me, okay?”

it's a type of determination and courage that nayeon admires, but sometimes she does fear for tzuyu, especially when it begins inching into stubbornness.

“you could lose your job,” nayeon warns gently. “they could take everything.”

“that would barely amount to losing you,” tzuyu says. “you're my everything. so — as long as you're here, i'm not scared.”

nayeon's never been strong enough to stay away from tzuyu, anyway.

“okay,” she says.

she knows only this one other thing as earnestly as she knows her love for tzuyu.

“then i'm not scared either.”

tzuyu makes sure her cap and mask are fitted snugly over her face before they leave the car.

“i can go get the food — it's dangerous for you,” nayeon had told her, but it only made tzuyu want to go with her more.

“i'll be careful,” tzuyu reassured. she simply winked and pointedly pulled her cap down further. “you're always doing these things for me — let me.”

nayeon still worries, even though the cashier acknowledges them with nothing more than a tired smile when they walk in.

now, tzuyu squats with her in front of the cold foods rack. she already has two ramen bowls in her hands.

“should i get a rice ball or ramen?” nayeon ponders.

“you know a rice ball wouldn't be enough.”

“but i’m craving rice,” nayeon pouts and pokes at the plastic. “and i’ve never seen this malatang chicken flavoured one before.”

tzuyu tilts her neck back, angling just enough to peer through the tiny slit she'd left between her pulled-down cap and pulled-up mask. she's quiet for a bit, then she takes the rice ball before nayeon has to decide.

“we'll get both.”

“both?”

“yeah, my treat.”

“... and chuu-hi?”

“and chuu-hi.”

nayeon beams. she grabs two cans and holds her arms out to retrieve the rest of their things from tzuyu. it's usually how it goes in places like these — she’ll speak, pay, walk in front, for fear tzuyu might be recognised if she ever does any of those things in public.

but tzuyu picks the cans from her hands instead and keeps whatever she’d been holding.

“i'll do it this time.”

she watches in stunned silence as tzuyu makes a stiff beeline to the cashier. in the middle of an anxious thought, nayeon realises why tzuyu had insisted so adamantly to come along.

i'm not scared.

tzuyu shifts in place at the end of the line, but her hands are balled into fists.

for a while, nayeon keeps her distance, cautious to be seen around tzuyu herself — cautious of tzuyu being seen around her. maybe tzuyu had been looking forward to this moment, or at least gearing herself up for it, but nayeon hadn't.

yet, tzuyu’s fingers begin to fidget.

nayeon can't help herself despite the obvious foolishness.

she hastily grabs another rice ball and can of chuu-hi, and rushes to the counter. maybe she’ll come off as another unassuming customer. for tzuyu's sake.

she can't see tzuyu's face, and she's not even sure if tzuyu has any peripheral vision left with the way her cap is pulled down. she worries.

she tugs on the hem of tzuyu's jacket as subtly, as gently as she can.

below the counter, tzuyu curls a quiet finger around hers.

nayeon’s heart settles.

tzuyu doesn't forget to give nayeon a kiss.

in between bites of ramen and rice balls, after countless careful glances around, she leans over and dips her head until their lips meet.

nayeon hums, pleased.

“in public?”

“i said i wasn’t scared,” tzuyu tells her.

they sit by a river near her apartment, the same one they've sat at since they met. ramen has always tasted better outdoors, and their lips have always been particularly irresistible when they weren't allowed to kiss them.

nayeon pulls the brim of tzuyu’s cap back down, readjusting it after their kiss had pushed it back.

tzuyu chuckles. “i'm sure anyone who wanted to see has seen already.”

nayeon wants to cover tzuyu's hand with hers, but after that stunt, she decides some cautiousness is due. “when did you get so brash?”

tzuyu smiles. she brushes a finger against nayeon's pinky. “you make me want to do stupid things.”

nayeon hooks her finger around tzuyu's, relenting.

she feels something emanating off tzuyu in quiet waves, an uncomfortable uncertainty and restraint in her speaking that she’s never enjoyed. that bashful tone always meant more than it did on the surface.

“you can tell me what's really on your mind, you know? what was the kiss for?”

tzuyu's eyes shift downwards, though her pinky remains still in nayeon’s. she's silent for a long while, long enough that nayeon gets nervous, but she waits for tzuyu to speak first. she's always needed time to collect her thoughts, and nayeon knows tzuyu is still thinking about her when her pinky curls tighter around her finger.

when tzuyu speaks again, her voice comes out as a whisper, in thoughtful, carefully picked words.

“i’m thinking about coming out.”

nayeon’s brows raise, startled. “what?”

“yeah,” tzuyu says. “i want to kiss you wherever i want, and i want to tell the world about you eventually. we can do all that when i do.”

nayeon can't help the silly grin that spreads across her cheeks. they’ve talked about it before, in stray comments and idealistic dreaming, in impulsive moments, but even then — only in ifs and imagines, never wants, never when, never with so much certainty.

“you must be going mad.”

tzuyu laughs with her. “maybe i am; maybe for you. i’m greedy.”

“you really are going mad.”

“i know i am,” and she keeps laughing. “but doesn’t it sound nice?”

“it sounds wonderful.”

at home, nayeon kisses tzuyu. without reserve, without caution.

tzuyu sighs into the kiss, melting into her touch. her fingers latch onto the collar of nayeon’s hoodie, tugging her in eagerly.

“i’ll do it next week,” tzuyu says. “i’ll tell everyone then.”

nayeon pulls back slightly, eyeing the brim of tzuyu's cap. she lifts the cap off tzuyu's head and tosses it to one side. “i suppose there’ll be no need for this anymore, then?”

it seems like tzuyu takes it as a sign to hold back a little less as well.

“not at all.”

she pushes in further, desperate, longing. tzuyu swallows all the air in her lungs and settles all the noise in her mind. she covers nayeon's lips in soft saccharine pecks, then slower, longer kisses, ones that fill her chest with so much warmth it makes nayeon wonder if the cages of her ribs are deserving of such heaven.

tzuyu reaches over to clutch onto her waist, pulling at the hem of her hoodie to bring them closer. her kisses grow hungrier, fingers eventually dipping under nayeon's clothes to touch skin.

nayeon can sense the eagerness; the tugging and fumbling and impatient grasps, the recapturing of her lips when she leaves for air, all of the waiting from before spilling over in this singular, infinitely intimate moment. tzuyu breathes out like every kiss is a new revelation; love in its most honest, most earnest, most raw.

nayeon kisses back with equal fondness, as much as tzuyu deserves.

she kisses her until tzuyu hums, and tzuyu giggles like she’s in love, like she’s kissing nayeon for the first time all over again, like she’s everything; she smiles and laughs and breaks the kiss between moments she can’t help breaking, and nayeon does too.

“i want you,” she whispers.

“you have me,” she whispers back.

between their mingled words and encapsulating touches, between steps to a bedroom they share and backs to sheets that smell like them — nayeon knows this must be all of love, right in her two bare hands, tender and real and kind.

okay so what if the plot is just abt two people being in love??? that is not a crime! it's been a while since i wrote just absolutely mindless fluff (i always say this but i'm sure it hasn't bc what else do i write) it feels that way at least! i love writing about love

anyway! thank you for reading and interacting! it means the world <3

#twice imagines #nayeon x tzuyu #twice fluff #im nayeon #chou tzuyu #natzu #twice fics #when i say slightly i mean slightly

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mimiyewaffles · 3 days

Text

A FEW INTERESTING THINGS

I guess I need help

So if y'all dont know, I'm trying to revise my boyfriend's d3ath.

It's been two months since I have been affirming and a few days since I got into the concept of void. Now, I'm trying to get into the void.

I've noticed a few crazy things, that I would love to share.

I've always affirmed that “everyone will forget about my boyfriend's demise because it was just my nightmare and no such thing ever happened. He's all alive and healthy” So I guess my affirmations are kinda playing out.

When I got to know about his demise, I sent him like 100 texts that day, I was so emotional and poured down everything to him. He not only is my boyfriend, but also is my best friend. The bestest friend ever and it was the worst day of my life. I was never ready to lose him.

I sent those 100 texts to him on Snapchat and obviously, my texts were just delivered. Nobody read them because that "nobody" Was long gone. I'm talking about feb, 2024. So I checked his snapchat after a few days of emotional ranting, and those texts didn't show up. I thought it might be a glitch and now after like 3 months, I went back to check on him because I missed him and guess what? ALL OF THOSE TEXTS ARE GONE!

Now idk if I'm tweaking but wtf? Snapchat has this feature where messages get deleted after 24 hours of being seen. But nobody saw my messages to begin with, where are those texts????

Like... All the snaps, that were sent before those texts and even after those texts are still in delivered, not seen.

Can anyone tell me if this is a glitch? This couldn't be, right? It's been 3 months to that incident, if it were glitch, it would have been fixed by now but idk-

My bf would post about his travelling and stuffs in Instagram reels and I often visit his account to look at him all alive once again and one day, I noticed one of his reels cover has changed 💀 and I even showed it to my sister and friend and they were shocked too. I thought it might be a glitch too. But it stayed like that for 3 days and then switched back to what it was before.

This might be a glitch idk honestly but my friend said it might be a "timeline/dimensions overlapping"

Two of my close friends are really logical minded and I never told them about my manifestation/shifting to a reality where my bf never got into an accident, because they wouldn't believe me. They don't even believe in multiple realities... So, not worth it.

A week ago, I texted one of these friends, saying that I feel like my bf is alive (emotional ranting) and all she told me was to hold up and move on, I'm thinking way too much 😮‍💨

And that's that. We didn't talk much about it.

After a few days of that, she texted me herself telling me that she feels the same. She feels as if my bf is alive too and maybe faking a death. We didn't get into the conclusion but yeah, we are still in doubt.

Also I would daydream about meeting my bf once again and i would make infinite possibilities to proof my reasoning mind that he's alive. So one of my imagination was my friend texting my bf's brother (they have nothing in common, they don't even know each other yet I imagined them talking) and his brother would say that my boyfriend is actually alive. And that scene exactly happened, except for the alive part. my friend talked to his brother to get his "last" Pics and guess what? They don't have that. Which is super weird because that accident just happened this year and those photos are gone. I texted one of his other brother who always replies to my texts and always give me updates about how their family is grieving but when I asked about pics, he left me on seen— again very weird.

Moreover, all of them (his family members) have moved on completely. They are enjoying and travelling. Idk how but like in a month of my bf's demise, they started partying a stuff which is super weird to me.

.....

I guess my affirmations are kinda becoming true. My 3D is maybe conforming slowly (?) Idk 😭

Lemme know what y'all think. Any tips on revising such thing would be appreciated. Thanks for reading 🎐

I'm sorry if I don't make any sense, I'm probably being delusional. Sorry for the rant 🥲🤌

#law of assumption #revision #loa #loassumption #loa success #loassblog #revising death #death revision #loa blog #manifesation #manifesting #void state #the void #eiypo #loablr #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting community #shifters

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hum--hallelujah · 9 months

Text

don't want to kill time like it doesn't matter - 3.5k words, (platonic) funkobra hurt/comfort

---

Ghoul is actually younger than Kobra. They always forget it though.

At least, they usually do.

Kobra's stopped shooting upright and reaching for his blaster whenever someone wakes him up at night. Stopped two years ago, honestly, when him and Ghoul started sharing a room. That was a collective decision that is very much not discussed. It left the old office as a perfect room for the Girl, in the end. Between Ghoulie and Girlie, the former of whom has wild, sleepless tendencies and the latter liking to scramble her way into bed with somebody else every other night of the week, Kobra's knee-jerk reaction has become more of a lack of reaction.

"Yo," hisses a pitchy voice. It's dead daylight, the heat of the day. This is the time of the year when you sleep while the sun's up, wait until the darkness falls to do anything or else it's too miserable or too dangerous. "Kobes."

Kobra utters a verbose "Hrrmngg?" and rolls over. He cracks an eye open to see Ghoul standing at the end of his bed. If it hadn't been light out, he'd be doing a good job of living up to his name. His hands are shaking, but when aren't they?

"You good, man?" Kobra asks groggily. He's half awake, half asleep, drifting in between the two states of being. Ghoul is shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. It makes the floor creak. It makes him look even smaller than he is. "Ghoulie?" He mumbles again when he gets no reply.

Ghoul makes a noncommittal half-whispered sound. "Wanna go for a joyride?" He asks instead of an answer.

Kobra blinks himself more fully awake and pushes up on one elbow. "Mirage or the 'Am?"

Ghoulie shrugs. Won't meet his eyes. Oh shit, that's not good. Something's got him worked up. It's too late for this. This is why they share a room now. They didn't used to, but Kobra refuses to let him sleep alone anymore. Kobra knows how he got that wicked scar that runs from the corner of his mouth nearly to his eye.

"Either," Ghoul says. "Doesn't matter much to me."

"Mirage," Kobra decides. He'll never say no to a late-night joyride. Not this kind. Party'll have his neck for sneaking out on the bike without letting anyone know, but the 'Am is too conspicuous when strange crews are out and from the look of him, riding double on the motorcycle will be good for Ghoul.

It's still too hot to be out. But going for a spin won't take too much exertion, getting to someplace with shade, so long as it's away from here, won't take too long. Ghoul's gonna get sunscorched. Maybe that's the point. While Kobra covers up with his jacket, Ghoul is still in the loose, half-covering clothes he sleeps in.

The sun glints painfully off the sand when they climb quietly out the window. No reason trying to get past Party when they've got an exit right here. Ghoul clambers out first with a probably accidental but surprisingly graceful roll and then flinches, violently, when Kobra jacket catches on what's left of the glass in the window and he tumbles haphazardly to the ground. They both hold still for a long dozen seconds, Kobra staring at the diner wall and straining to tell if anyone heard them, and Ghoul staring at Kobra and shaking.

When Party doesn't come along, eyes glinting with annoyed amusement, and yell at them for sneaking out, Kobra sits up and checks the hem of his jacket where it caught on the sharp edge. "Great," he mutters when he sees the tear in the lining. He'll have to sew that back together later. "Ghoul, you good?"

Ghoul shrugs and stands up. "Aren't I always?"

"No."

They stare at each other for a few seconds while Kobra rubs his palms together to clear the sand off them and reaches into his pocket for his gloves. "You're wearing a helmet," he says flatly.

Ghoul rolls his eyes and sneers. It crinkles the scar running up his face. "No way."

"Fine." Kobra doesn't push. Half the time he doesn't even wear his helmet. He's the driver. He'll keep them safe. It was worth a try, though. "Come on."

The heavy bay door of the garage makes too much noise to open without being caught. They slip in the side door and Kobra brings Mirage carefully back through it. He wears a helmet this time. Ghoul stands and waits, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet, while Kobra starts the bike and, out of habit, does a couple checks.

"You ready?" Kobra says, with the visor of his helmet flipped up.

Ghoul grins, but it's lacking in heart. So often, Kobra thinks he's not all there. So often, Kobra thinks this is his best friend. "Born that way," he replies.

"Come on then," Kobra says and nods for Ghoul to get on the bike with him. "Hey, hey. Hey, Ghoulie-" he says, when Ghoul is standing right at his shoulder, about to throw a leg over Mirage and climb on. "You okay?" He asks again, because he needs to know how safe any of this is.

Ghoul doesn't respond. Just settles himself behind Kobra and wraps his arms, tight, around Kobra's middle. Kobra stays there a second, until he's sure Ghoul's grip is solid, so that he can feel Ghoul breathing against his back, before he kicks off. He doesn't care if Party and Jet wake up now, they won't catch them. The bike's tires kick up a fountain of sand as he spins a loop, leaning into the turn until Mirage tilts close enough to the ground that Kobra could touch the sand if he reached out. Ghoul asked for a joyride. This is that.

"What the hell, man?!" Ghoul yells over Kobra's shoulder, muffled by the engine noise and his helmet. Kobra feels Ghoul's hands grab at the fabric of his shirt as he pulls around the first turn, bringing them around the back of a sand dune at full speed.

"Trust me?" Kobra shouts back. He's getting into it now, relaxing into each wide, showy swerve and fishtail. He slows down just a bit when he can feel Ghoul's fingernails start to bite into his skin. It makes him edgy when Ghoul is like this.

Ghoul sniffs sharply. "Well, yeah, but I've seen you crash out enough times at the track-"

"Aw, shut up," Kobra snaps back, without venom. Ghoul's his mechanic. He's seen his best wins and worst losses. "Where you wanna go?" He asks, after a few random turns, just drifting around in the sand. Ghoul is quiet. Kobra reaches back with one hand and smacks him on the leg after awhile. "Ghoulie, where we goin'?"

"I'm thinki-" Ghoul cuts himself off and when he speaks again his voice is flat and so quiet Kobra has to strain to hear him. "Turn right up here."

There's the remains of a road cutting across their path and Kobra hops Mirage up onto it, swings right and follows the pavement. Ghoul's grip around his chest has loosened, but Kobra can feel the fast, shallow rhythm of his breathing and the shaking of his hands even still. The road goes on for ages, long enough that it starts to feel infinite. This must have been a highway, back before the wars and BL/ind. At some point, Ghoul leans forward and puts his forehead against the back of Kobra's neck. Kobra can feel him pressed just below where his helmet sits.

"Get off at this turn," Ghoul mumbles suddenly, but not soon enough because Kobra completely overshoots the exit. He flips around the empty lanes of the highway, admittedly showing off mostly just to make himself feel better.

The group of buildings along the former highway off-ramp isn't really a ghost town. It's a cluster of old stores and restaurants, like the diner but mass produced, and down at the end is an ancient truck stop and gas station. Kobra slows the bike to a crawl as they drive down the street, struck with an eerie sense of deja vu. He's been here before. They both have.

He pulls over and stops in the middle of the road, beside what used to be a coffee store. Coffee is usually made in the form of compressed, dried out shots now, called Motor Juice in the Zones when rehydrated. They don't have coffeeshops in the City. They have prescriptions.

Ghoul is off the bike and Kobra's back suddenly cold even under the heat of the sun before Mirage even comes to a full stop. "Ghoul-" Kobra snaps, angry for reasons he can't even say and unsettled in ways he doesn't want to. This is a ghost town. Just not in the normal way. "Ghoul. What are you-"

But Ghoul is walking away, his back to Kobra and the bike as he moves toward the gas station as if it's a magnet and he's the blade of a knife, trembling so hard with the pull that it might break. Kobra hesitates, then swings his leg over Mirage and bumps out the kickstand. Ghoul is standing stock still, or as still as he can, on the faded pavement of the gas station parking lot. Kobra's glad it's faded. He doesn't want to see the bloodstains.

Ghoul looks small as he approaches, absolutely miniscule. He's got his arms wrapped tight around himself and Kobra can hear the harshness of his breathing even from several strides away. He doesn't want to get too close too fast. Ghoul's enough like a wild animal that it could turn out badly, and Kobra for once really doesn't want to fight him today. Not out here, at least.

They're within two years of each other, Kobra and Ghoul. They usually forget they're not the same age. But right now Ghoul looks so small and so, so young and Kobra doesn't know what to do.

"Gh- Ghoul. Ghoulie." Kobra calls carefully, stumbling over his tongue. He clamps his teeth together, takes a deep breath. "Ghoul."

Ghoul doesn't turn, doesn't look away from the door into the gas station he'd been found in, back when Kobra and Poison and Jet were a crew of three and Ghoul'd been even more feral than he is now. The gas station where Ghoul watched his entire family die and he was helpless to do anything about it. He still thinks he hadn't done enough. Kobra knows that. Ghoul always thinks he didn't do enough. That one kid with a blaster and wild eyes could take down a full squad of Dracs and two Crows.

Kobra doesn't know how to tell him that if he'd tried, he would be dead too. Kobra doesn't know how to tell him he's glad he didn't. When it comes down to it most, Kobra finds he can't speak.

"Ghoulie," he says again. "Hey. Hey." He moves closer, pulls off the helmet he'd almost forgotten he still has on. "Ghoul," he tries, one more time, as gently as he knows how even though it's not that gentle. He's never been good at this. Some of the scars scattered across Ghoul's body are from him. But Kobra had stitched up Ghoul's face and he's not going to give up now.

Ghoul finally turns and Kobra breathes a sigh of relief. Just a response. Proof of life even though he's still standing. And then Ghoul steps toward him and suddenly he's right there, shaking but otherwise just as eerily still as this entire place, like he's trapped in frozen time just like the rest of it, and he collides with Kobra's chest in a way that's both surprising and yet entirely expected.

"Oh." Kobra drops his helmet, dangling from one hand, and his arms hover uncertainly in the air for a moment before he carefully closes them around Ghoul. "Oh. Okay. Okay." He says quietly, startled, but not really. He'd felt the way Ghoul was holding onto him as they rode Mirage all the way out here.

Ghoul unfolds his arms from around himself and grabs onto the unzipped sides of Kobra's jacket. He doesn't cry, not out loud at least. He's just shaking, so much, and so, so small. Kobra's not good with words. He's even worse with them under pressure. Anything Jet or Party could say to make it better, that kind of stuff gets stuck on his tongue when Kobra tries to say it. So he doesn't. He just holds on.

"You plan on coming here?" Kobra asks eventually, even though he has a feeling the answer is no. Unless it's an engine or a bomb, Ghoul never really plans on much. Ghoul shakes his head, hair scrubbing against Kobra's shoulder and neck where his head's pressed. "You wanna... y'wanna go inside?" He asks then, against his better judgment. But then again, he's never been known for that, has he.

Ghoul tenses, but it momentarily stops the shaking. "Can we?"

Kobra huffs. "Nobody stoppin' us, and even if there were, we'd do it anyway, wouldn't we?"

Ghoul pries his fingers from their hold on Kobra's jacket and turns back toward the station. "Should we?"

"Dunno." Part of him thinks it might help. Part of him remembers exactly what happened the last time they were here. It's the Killjoy way to call death ghosting. It means some part of you lives on even when you're gone. There's a lot of ghosts in this pavement. "It's your-"

He can't think of what word goes there. Choice. Past. Grief. Place. So he stops talking. He shrugs, bends to pick up his helmet. "I can." He sucks a breath through his teeth. He's going to say it again. "I can... I can go with you. If you," he shrugs one shoulder again. "If you, uh, want to. I'm not- I'm not trying to force you," he adds, like it needs to be said. "It's your... yours."

Because that's all that really can be said. This place, the place that made Fun Ghoul what he is. The journey, however brief, that brought them here. Even, kinda, Kobra himself. It's all for Ghoul, here and now. Kobra drove, but he's just along for the ride. Weird how that happens.

Ghoul steps toward the station. Magnetism, again. And Kobra follows, because how could he not. He feels sick at the though of letting his friend go in that place alone.

The doors are gone. Shot out years ago. It looks to Kobra exactly as it did back then, but Ghoul probably remembers better. There are shelves toppled and glass and plastic broken all over the floor. Whatever hasn't been scavenged is broken and shattered. Ghoul walks toward the back of the store, the corner that's not so much a mess. Kobra stays back a bit, trying to give his friend space.

It's where they found Ghoul. Or, where Pois had found him. Ghoul was half in shock, terrified and scarred and fighting, and Party was the first one of their then three-strong group to notice the dark shape watching them hopelessly trawl the carnage for any survivors. It took Pois physically restraining the much smaller kid to keep Ghoul from going for all of their throats.

Kobra has a lot of bad memories of Ghoul. None are as bad as remembering the way he'd screamed when they first met.

"Y'okay?" Kobra asks after a while.

Ghoul has his moments. They all do. Sometimes, you wake up bad in the night and it's hard to pick yourself up. Sometimes you just gotta hit the bottom before you even can. But Ghoul's a fighter. "Yeah," he says, walking back and forth between fallen shelves once stocked with food and stupid trinkets. He crouches to pick up the shattered remnants of something once made of colorful glass and when he looks back over his shoulder at Kobra, he doesn't seem quite as small.

"'M sorry," Kobra mumbles, not knowing what to say now. Somehow, the shaking and the touch are so much easier than having to talk about it. He's never been the talker. That's Party. And he knows his brother regrets not getting there — here — sooner that day, but there's a sick, selfish part of Kobra that's too glad to have Ghoul to want anything different. But really, it's all he can say. If there's remnants of bones that haven't been carried away by carrion-eaters, he doesn't want to see it.

Ghoul slowly stands up from his spot on the floor, staring intently at the broken knick-knack in his palm. It might have been a glass teddy bear, once, something a parent might grab up for a child waiting at home. It's partially shattered, though. Half of its cartoonish smiling face is gone. The heart shape it once held in its paws is cracked down the middle. Kobra isn't great with metaphors, but this is pretty fucking obvious.

"I didn't save them," Ghoul says quietly, his voice grating through the charged, silent air. "I didn't save her."

Something clicks into place. They all know that the crew he lost was Ghoul's real actual biological family. He's a sandpup. He was born and raised in the Zones. He doesn't talk about it much. Kobra's shocked he even came back here, let alone with anyone else. Ghoul doesn't talk about his family, but they've all figured for a while that he had a sibling. You can see it in how he treats the Girl.

"Your sister," Kobra says. It doesn't sound like so much of a question when he says it out loud, but he knows Ghoul will understand it as one.

Ghoul nods. "Yeah." He steps over some toppled displays, sun-bleached ads that used to be bright colored, and slips the shiny piece of broken glass into one of Kobra's pockets since he doesn't have any of his own. Kobra can already see the sunburn forming on his friend's shoulders and the tops of his knees. "She was like, eight."

That's all the more he says about it, but Kobra slips his hand into the pocket and runs his fingers over the broken glass toy still warm from Ghoul's hands, and hears the years of grief and bitterness in the few words. Ghoul's more talky than he is, but he's cagey, too. Kobra can hear him, though. He gets it. Doesn't mean he knows what to say, though.

"Shit," he spits. He wants to say I'm sorry again, but that feels fuckin cheap. He wants to say stop beating yourself up about it, but that sounds even stupider. "Fuck." Sometimes that's all he can say.

"Yeah," Ghoul replies. "Fuckin shit."

"Exactly," Kobra agrees, fiercely relieved that Ghoul gets all the shit he's trying to say. "Hey, uh. Y'know I'm-" He stumbles over the words, cringes at himself for the inability to get past a stupid two-letter word. "I'm glad I know you." He manages, as selfish as it sounds standing here in the ghosted wreckage where Ghoul's family was killed. But if that hadn't happened, they wouldn't be here now. They wouldn't be friends. And Kobra needs Ghoul to know he's glad that any suicide run to save his family failed. The pain sucks, but he's grateful for the outcome. He hopes Ghoul can understand that.

Ghoul doesn't reply. His acid green eyes bore straight into Kobra's for a few seconds while Kobra's heart hammers in his chest. Then he kicks at some dust and looks at the floor and shrugs. "Let's go, man. I don't wanna stay here."

"M'kay."

Kobra's almost tempted to reach out as they walk back out into the glaring sun, grab onto Ghoul like he's a ghost, too, and the light might evaporate him. But he doesn't. He can't.

He thinks the feeling of Ghoul hanging onto him as he steers Mirage away, back up the ramp to the road they came down in the first place, will make him feel better. It doesn't. Ghoul holds on much looser than he had on the way here, and it makes Kobra nervous. He wonders if he should have made him wear a helmet, and steers more carefully around the turns.

And then Ghoul adjusts his seat and throws one arm up over Kobra's shoulder, loosely hooking around his neck. He leans up forward and shouts, "C'mon, Kobes, let's play with it!" Like he's itching for the risk that a couple hours ago had had him holding on for dear life. Kobra's used to thinking his best friend isn't all there. But he's also familiar with the times he is. Sometimes, he forgets they're not the same age because Ghoul is so larger than life.

He tips his head to the side in acknowledgement, and punches the throttle. He even pulls a couple of tight, quick loops. He can't slide on the pavement the way he would on sand, but he can catch a little air when there's a thermal bump in the highway. Ghoul clutches onto him, but it's not scared. Something's cleared up in the gas station. Maybe it was closure. Hell if Kobra knows.

When they pull Mirage off the highway and the diner finally comes back into view, just a small glint of signage, Kobra slows his pace and can feel Ghoul sigh more than he can hear it. His friend's arms stay firmly around him. "Hey, Kobes?" Ghoul says, just barely loud enough to be heard over the engine.

"Yeah?" Kobra says, a bit louder to be heard past his helmet.

Ghoul hesitates, then says in a rush, "I'm glad I know you too. Like, really glad." And then he squeezes Kobra a little tighter for just a second and Kobra can't even say anything in reply. It's been a long night at the wrong time of day. And they're almost home.

#yes I know kobra is doing that annoying ''r u ok'' thing very repetitively he's like me he repeats himself A LOT it's ok. we still love him #I cannot express this enough. kobra has a stutter. literally sometimes the only word that will come out is just. F bomb.#the others have gotten very good at translating him skskskddkfj #btw wrt kobra's speech patterns just know I'm cutting WAY back on the amount of repeating I do irl #like I'm giving him my (mild) stutter but cutting down the repetitions by a lot bc it looks weird on paper #so whenever he's repeating himself and stammering? yeah it's a lot more like a scratched CD than how I typed it out #in my head it's like SUPER noticeable. like everyone knows this happens and that sometimes he has to stop and be quiet #and take a minute before he can get on with what he's saying. it's just a thing #ok now that I'm done rambling about kobra kid having a stutter- :)#btw they're like 16 and 17 here. they are children trying to navigate these very big emotions and I love them so so dearly #next time I need to emotionally or physically hurt kobra skfjfnskdn I keep going after poor ghoul #ok I think that's all I have to say for now #she speaks!#she writes!#danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #danger days: the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #ttlotfk #kobra kid #fun ghoul #this isn't really funkobra just bc I don't actually ship ANYONE here skskfjdghkdjgfkd #I'm much more compelled by platonic relationships that are kinda the Secret Third Thing than I am by romance. so. yeah

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