#I'm so full of emotions but I can't seem to let them go and *cry*

[damiemontclair]

Is it ridiculous to think maybe this whole hospital thing and related business has mildly traumatised me? Is it ridiculous that I want to write about it in excruciating detail, just get the experience out on paper, on my blog, somewhere? It feels dumb but I want to write fic about it. I think it'd fix me.

#Still haven't really properly cried tho I am kinda tearing up as I write this #I'm not having a good mental health time rn ngl #The callous way some of the docs treated me; the way their sole focus was on reproduction without a single care for the hormones... #The generally terrible way I deal with surgery/post-surgery #It wasn't. As bad? The last few times? #I think I've also made myself forget a lot from the first 2 times #3rd time was more traumatising. #This last one tho... I never stayed for more than a night at the hospital. I never want to stay at a hospital ever again. #I never want to have surgery again #I swear if I have to do that again I will have my panic attack before they even put me under #It was so painful this time and people weren't listening to me at all when I told them the iv wasn't sitting right anymore #Nurses and doctors kept dismissing my opinions and wishes and needs.... #It was like as a patient you're less than human. #My arm is still bruised from where they fucked up their blood draws... #I'm so tired but I can't seem to rest #I'm so full of emotions but I can't seem to let them go and *cry* #Its like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop #Pls ignore me amd my rambles I'm just. Not doing too hot rn. #damie talks

[lovelybrooke]

Would the hotel gang take advantage of when the reader returns to earth to take a look at the drawings and what the reader writes in the sketchbook out of curiosity or would they prefer to respect the reader's privacy?

Someone asked for more Charlie and Vaggie stuff so here this is. Might be a little short but I am in so much pain so apologizes for that

masterlist

---

Charlie felt like she was going to cry, she missed you so much. 

Her eyes welled with tears as she gazed down at drawing after drawing, all of the hotel staff. These were the only things she had left of you, and now you were gone.These silly little doodles were all she's got. 

"Don't worry Charlie, they'll be back soon." Vaggie was here, trying her best to comfort her partner, rubbing her back as she knelt on the ground, papers in hand. 

"I-I know" She mumbles, eyes glued onto the drawings. "I-it's just--was it my fault?" She whispers, finally looking up to her girlfriend. Her eyes were wide and full with guilt, and it made Vaggie frown with deep sadness. 

"No, no, of course not Charlie!" Vaggie reassured her, pulling Charlie into a deep hug. Every sniffle Charlie let out broke her heart a little bit more. 

"Then why would they leave?" Charlie asks again, voice low. In truth, Vaggie didn't have an answer. She tries her hardest to remember what you were like before you left. You were distant and quiet, more so than normal. It scared her a bit, seeing you so not like yourself. 

"(Y/n)..." She approached you one day in the lobby, near the fireplace. You were staring directly into the fire, your gaze unmoving even when she approached. After a few seconds, she sat down next to you. You didn't move. "Are you okay?" 

You don't respond for a while, and Vaggie thinks you might have not heard her. Though eventually, your quiet voice breaks the silence. "Yeah--I'm fine." You say, your voice blank and devoid of emotion. 

Your voice ripples through Vaggie's ears and sends a shiver down her spine, you definitely weren't okay. "Are you sure? You seem--" She didn't know the right word, distant, lost, dazed? 

You don't wait for her to finish her sentence, "Vaggie, do you ever get scared?" 

Vaggie tilts her head "scared of what?" 

You finally move, looking down at the floor. Your brows furrow, like you're in deep thought. "Of everything." You whisper. 

Vaggie thinks for a second, "sometimes" she responds. "Sometimes I get so scared--it feels like I can't breathe." She says, watching as your eyes move towards her. They were wide and she could see tears threatening to spill over. 

"How do you deal with it?" You question, nearly begging. 

She sighs, slowly moving her hand to rub your arm. It was awkward, but she could feel you start to relax. "For a while I did nothing." She thinks of life before Charlie, before having that support system. "And then I met Charlie, and suddenly I had someone I could go to, when I felt like everything was too much." Your breathing calmed down and your tears were dry. 

"You know you can come to us." Vaggie reminds you. "If--If anything ever happens, you can come to us, please come to us." 

You don't say anything, instead you move back, away from Vaggie and return to gazing into the fire. Vaggie couldn't describe how she felt if she wanted to, hurt, scared, disappointed. 

But it was all in the past now. 

Vaggie wished she would have done something to help you. To make you feel better. She wishes she could've seen the signs before you decided to do something like this. 

As she hugs her girlfriend, she feels that same feeling wash over her, the hurt, the fear, the disappointment. "I don't know Charlie." She says. "I don't know why they left."

"But we'll find them. I promise."

---

A/n; This didn't focus on the drawings and was kinda sad, sorry.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #platonic yandere hazbin hotel

[meanbossart]

Lore Ask Compilation: "Every Other Question Is About The Drow's Dick" edition

Oh I LOVE Minthara, her dialogue is absolutely fascinating and in my opinion some of the best written In the game. Experiencing her in my Evil Durge playthrough without having been spoiled to her companion scenes prior was great - the amount of depth they managed to add to her, without it at all feeling forced or rushed, and considering how much less time she gets to develop at our side is really well done. While nearly everyone's quests had me immersed, she was one of the few characters who really made me pause and think about the things she had to say to me, what she truly meant by them, and what they meant for me as an avatar doing an evil run.

We have a lot of characters in this game that are meant to be full of wisdom and experience, who are meant to be the ones who say the right thing at the right time that inspires us to make the correct choices, but I don't think either Halsin or Jaheira (and I love Jaheira) made me feel like I knew so little about life quite as Minthara did.

And, of course, she's absolutely hysterical. 10/10 I wish she had a proper companion quest past being rescued but I understand why she doesn't.

[MORE ASKS UNDER THE CUT]

It doesn't connect to the urethra since the slit in on top, so he nuts and pisses normal.

Also you 100% are not sorry, stop lying to me.

Man, I thought a lot about this one because I play so fast and loose with the content the game gives us that I'm positive there must be SOMETHING I'm completely disregarding, but I couldn't think of anything! I've chosen to pick slightly less obvious interpretations to some lines and text but nothing that completely deviates from canon, I don't think. If anyone has noticed something I neglected to mention, feel free to let me know - not because I want to revise it, but just because I'm curious!

For the second part of the question, not really. Larian did a great job of giving us plenty of room to play around in the dark urge's background, I think I'm yet to see something that I find to truly "not fit" in the ample freedom they've given us. I have my preferences, of course - I'm shocked to find that most dark urge's are NOT big hulking beasts, for example - in fact that seems to be the minority by far, but I realize that I have my... Uh... Biases.

You can see a cute little divot through the fabric if you look closely LOL

And nah, I think his penis has seen enough sharp points for a lifetime.

Well.

Unless someone decided to add some bite-marks to it.

HMMM, I... Don't think so.

He didn't cry as a baby, he didn't cry as a child (and this isn't something I just decided on now - this is a major reason why his foster drow mother even kept him around) he didn't really cry growing up or at any point during the campaign. I think he is capable of it - sadness in him just tends to be far more confusing a feeling than anything else.

He will have emotional moments in ANE, whether or not that will culminate in crying is something you will have to wait to find out LOL

Astarion has noticed this and just took it as a character trait - the drow doesn't cry, he just gets confused, angry, frustrated or simply bottles it up. While he can be demanding of his emotional maturity, he isn't going to try and dictate how he should experience his own feelings. If it did happen it would definitely catch him majorly off-guard, perhaps even shift the perception he has of him to a certain extent.

Oh my god you just know they All managed to be utterly quiet about it for as long as humanly (and unhumanly) possible until like, I don't even know, halfway through the Shadow-cursed lands where one day Karlach finally turns back to the group around the campfire after a half-nude drow has strut past and she's like "SO

"DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHY HIS DICK HAS A SNATCH"

And Wyll is like :0... Karlach you can't just ask people that.

And then she pointedly turns to Astarion and starts trying to interrogate him on how it works while Gale covers his ears and Shadowheart is like:

This is gonna blow you guys backwards but he does not do those things in front of people and thinks its rude if you do.

HMMM Mostly physically but it's a little subtle. He really enjoys interacting with Astarion's (and previously Orin's) hands - kissing, holding, caressing. Touching hair and faces as well. He can engage in more overt physical affection but usually Astarion has to be the one to initiate.

A disarmingly earnest proclamation of love and adoration here and there as well - he isn't shy in the slightest to tell people how he feels about them, he just isn't constantly reminding them of it unless inspiration strikes.

Most of all I think he expects his loved-ones to see his care for them in his tendency to go out of his way to help them achieve their goals.

He went with them to the Shadow-cursed lands but I never helped him fix the curse, so he stayed behind when the gang went onwards to the city. DU Drow didn't really like him so it was good-riddance as far as he was concerned.

If he had come along and propositioned him during act 3 - uh, you know the really mean rejection line you have as a choice during that dialogue? Yeah, that one lmao.

Alas, DU drow is just monogamous. He could entertain group-sex with a partner for fun at the most, but not ever a third person in the relationship. And In my personal interpretation (but by all means - everyone else have fun with their poly arrangements!) of Astarion and his delivery of the "this is about Halsin" line, I also thought he was lying about being comfortable with it, so I write him as monogamous as well.

Nothing. Nada. Not a thing. Say what you'd like about Bhaal but he sure knows how sculpt them out of his murder-meat.

(Thank you!!!)

#ask compilation #DU drow lore #bg3 spoilers

[multidxni]

but "just friends" don't look at each other like that

pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

warnings: none, just a lot of kissing, kinda making out in the end

summary: Hyunjin comes over to help you with your homework, but you end up completely forgetting about it

Hyunjin is a very good friend. An amazing one, something which makes this so much more difficult for you to shut down or ignore your feelings for him.

How can you possibly not fall for him when he's always. Always there for you, with you.

How can you stop thinking about him after he leaves, when he lets you cry on your favorite shirt of his, completely ruining it, telling you it's going to be just fine with that soft, calming voice.

How can you not imagine how it would be like to be more than just friends when he's so, so perfect.

Even his imperfections seem to be perfect and he makes everything look so easy.

You can't help but miss him when he's gone, you can't even stand a day without him being around.

Sighing, you finish your cup of tea, placing it down, when your phone vibrates on the mini table of your living room.

"Hello?" You pick up, not looking at the display.

"Y/n, hey! Are you busy?" Hyunjin asks enthusiastically.

"Hyunjin, hi." You smile. "No, not at all, what's up?"

"Guess what?" He also smiles.

"What?" You bite your lip, a habit you picked up while talking to him.

You love it when he calls you randomly, just when you don't expect it.

"I got some yummy, fancy food. And your favorite wine. Are you free?" He says full of hope to see you again, the last time he saw you last weekend feeling so far away.

You want to scream "yes" in happiness, but then remember you have a homework you still haven't finished and got to study for the next exam too.

"That sounds amazing Hyunjin. But I have so much to study, I don't know how I'll make it to be honest." Your voice breaking, your disappointment and discouragement are obvious to him.

"Hey...it's okay." He knows you're about to cry. He knows you so well even through a call.

"I'll help you study. Then we eat together, what do you say? Hmm?" He suggests.

"Okay but...it's a lot Hyunnie, you better hurry." You let out a small chuckle, wanting to hug him so tight.

"I'm on my way cutie." He laughs silently hanging up.

You smile, spreading your books and highlight pens on the table, as you wait for him.

He always knows what to say or do to make you feel better. To make you feel special.

-

After a few minutes you hear a knock on the door. You rush to open it and reveal a tall, black hoodie dressed Hyunjin, with boxes of food in his hands, along with your favorite Rosé wine.

Your eyes soften at the sight of him, smiling so brightly at you.

You take one of his boxes from his hands and bury your face in his chest, hugging him tight, arms wrapping around his neck.

He chuckles in your hair, breathing in.

You can't help but stand up on your feet and press a light kiss on his cold cheek.

"Thank you Hyunjinnie." You say, stepping aside to let him walk inside your apartment.

"Something is different in here." He notices looking around.

"Yeah...can you guess what?" You smile walking into the kitchen with the food, sitting down on your bar chairs.

"Y/n..." He says in a serious tone as you look at his face.

His eyes light up with a new, completely unknown emotion to you.

"You hung up my drawings...even framed them, really?" The look on his face is so soft, you think you're going to start crying.

"Yeah...I just love your drawings. Also I painted the walls a different color and..." You shrug. "I don't know, I just felt that it really matches it and the atmosphere."

He stays quiet, starring at you for a couple of seconds, but then comes closer to you.

And man, your heart is skipping so many beats at once, is this even possible?

"Hyunjin...if you don't want it I'll put them awa-"

And then, he kisses you.

Places his lips on yours, not even moving them. Just holding them there. When he pulls away, way too quickly by the way, your legs suddenly become like jelly. Heart beating so fast, you fear he can hear it too.

It happened so fast, it was almost like just two seconds.

Your mouth hangs open now, the feeling of his lips still on yours.

When you don't have the power or idea to say something, he apologizes, looking away in shame, his ears and cheeks turning pink.

You think you're going to throw up eventually, the emotions overwhelming you.

"Don't. Don't apologize." You simply say, embarrassment making your cheeks become a bright shade of red.

"I just kissed you, oh God, it's not okay." He panics and you pray he doesn't regret it.

"But Hyunjin. I liked it..." You let out, now looking at the ground. Playing with the rings on your fingers, the long shirt you're wearing, anything.

When you say that he looks at you in surprise almost, exhaling.

"I just...I'm sorry it was so sudden." He pauses. "I'm such an idiot."

"You're my favorite idiot then." You hear yourself say, locking eyes with him for what feels like the first time after the kiss.

He's so pretty, all blushy like that, his lips swollen.

"It means a lot to me." He chuckles. "Also the way you hung up my drawings...thank you." He says looking you in the eyes.

"You're so passionate about the things you do...so delicate. I just find you really..." You can't find the right words to tell him.

"Perfect." You look up and feel your cheek burn like they never did before. Are you having a fever?

His eyebrows furrow together in a soft 'aww' way.

"I find you really perfect too." He smiles, finding your hands, holding them into his big ones.

He smells so good and you suddenly want him close. Need to feel him close.

"Hug me." You whisper looking at the way he holds your hands, brushing over your fingers with his thumb.

"Anything for you." He whispers back and it's so romantic that you can't help but melt into his large arms, and oversized, good smelling hoodie.

You're addicted to him, the way he looks, behaves, the way he is with you, how he smells...you're in love with everything he is.

"I love you." You let out, not caring about anything anymore, because you never needed anyone more than you need him right now.

"I love you too." He places kisses on your head and forehead and you think if you could die from feeling so full of love for someone, you would definitely die on the spot.

Still holding him in your arms, caressing his back, you look up to see him already looking at you.

"Can I kiss you? Just making sure I won't scare you away this time." He laughs, now holding your chin.

You nod, smiling.

Everything seems to be so easy with Hyunjin. It's like you're made for each other.

"The food is cold now." You say sadly after the kiss.

"Really? That's all you care about right now?" He looks at you with one of his judging faces.

"Hyunjinnnn, we have so much to do." You say, fake crying.

"We have timeee." He assures you, sitting down to open the boxes.

You sit down next to him, admiring his side profile.

"I have an idea." You suddenly say, standing up.

You bring some good smelling candles lighting them up, placing two big glasses for the wine on the table too.

"This is so romantic." He compliments, loving every second of it.

You look satisfied with your work and as you see the tteokbokki with extra cheese, your mouth waters.

"Oh God." You groan just looking at it.

"Indeed." He agrees. "Bon Appétit, mon amour." He says in a fake french accent and you laugh it off, saying the same.

You eat in silence, a few things such as "it's so good" and "thank you hyunjin", the only sentences spoken.

When you finish eating he opens the bottle of wine, with a bow.

"For you madame." He pours into the glass with so much elegance you can't help but think again, he really is perfect.

"For the lucky boyfriend." He pretends to talk to someone, bowing again. "Oh wait that's me." He quickly moves on the chair pretending to thank the waiter (who is also him).

You laugh so much your tummy hurts.

He loves to make you laugh, loves to hear your laugh.

"Are you my boyfriend?" You ask as he puts the bottle away.

"Well...are you my girlfriend?" He asks instead, smirking.

"Hyunjin-ah!~" You say tired of the playing.

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Yes or yes? There's only one correct answer." He smiles like he said the most logical thing on earth.

You raise an eyebrow smirking. "Are you proposing to me, or asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Hwang?" You joke back.

"Both." He says with an eye smile.

"Anyways, yes." You shrug, ignoring his comment, drinking your wine unbothered.

He laughs again, and you want to learn lots of jokes to hear that sound again and again.

"Yes to what?" He raises his eyebrows like he's in shock. "Just kidding."

You push his shoulder and smile, while once again admiring his handsome face.

Taking your hand while holding his glass of wine in the other, he leads you to the balcony.

You didn't realize it already got late, but you're glad it did, because you hope he'll want to spend the night with you.

Looking at the night sky full of stars, you decide Hyunjin is still your favorite thing to look at.

Taking the almost finished drink from your hands, he sets it down on a small table next to him, along with his.

He holds your waist closer, pulling you into his chest, holding you close again.

"Don't ask me anymore if you want to kiss me again." You say when he stares at your lips.

He nods, kissing you for the 3rd time tonight, but this is the first time he holds your face, waist, and kisses you so deeply, full of passion.

"You're my favorite person." He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair away from your face.

The wind is blowing, and it's really cold, but he makes you feel so warm, it's insane.

"You're mine too." You say finding yourself holding his face close, putting your lips on his again.

His kisses are like drugs and you end up wanting more of them. More of him. All of him.

You end up kissing on your way out of the balcony. Then on the way to your room and finally on your bed, where it gets more intense.

He kisses you like he never gets enough, just like you.

"You're so beautiful." He says when kissing your shoulders and collarbones, neck and jaw, then lips again.

"Hyunjin." You sigh, throwing your head back, when he sucks on a certain spot on your neck.

"Hmmm." He says satisfied when he hears you squirm under him.

"Oh God, Hyunjin." You exhale, as he presses his knee between your legs.

Pulling his hair, you can't get enough of the feeling of his lips on you.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks, still kissing your neck.

"A lot of things... But for now just please... kiss me more." You tell him, holding his face in your hands.

"Where do you want me to kiss you, my princess?" He seductively looks at you.

"Anywhere, everywhere." You let out, pulling his face closer to yours.

Kissing him, you know that is a thing you'll certainly miss when he's not gonna be around.

"We have time the whole night, love." He whispers.

❤️

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x female reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #friends to lovers #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids #stray kids x y/n #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x female reader #skz hyunjin #hyunjin skz #skz x reader #hyunjin soft hours #skz x y/n #skz fluff #skz changbin #one shot #fluff imagine #y/n #imagine fluff #fluff fanfiction #fluffffff #fluff fic

[acourtofmarvels]

Comfort - Cassian Pt.1

Summary: MC has a hard time coping with Rhys, her brother, being under the mountain. She originally leans to alcohol until Cassian confronts her to lean on something else...

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of vomit only at the beginning. Mentions of smut but nothing detailed (sorry)

Word count: 2k

"Oh, gods," Cassian groaned. He gagged, stuffing his nose into his arm to try not to smell it.

"You can leave," I slurred. My head was currently in a toilet, puking my guts out. Cassian was behind me, holding my hair back.

"Yeah and let your drunk ass choke on your own vomit and die? Don't think so." He gagged again as I threw up again.

"I'm not drunk," I replied. I was so very drunk. Of course I would never admit that cause that would mean he was right. And I don't like when he's right.

"We're having a long talk in the morning. You can't keep doing this every night." His voice was soft and full of concern. I wouldn't remember this conversation by the morning.

I would wake up with a pounding headache. A glass of water and a piece of bread with an elixer to help with the headache on the nightstand by my bed. I would see a fresh pair of clothes layed out in the bathroom beside a warm bath, kept warm from the magic of the house.

After my bath I would go back to sleep and wake up around lunch time. I would go to the kitchen and most likely find Cassian and/or Mor sitting at the table eating lunch. We wouldn't say anything to each other. I would eat lunch and then go about my day with whatever duties was needed of me. That following night I would either drink myself into the same pattern or cry myself to sleep.

I couldn't deal with my emotions very well. It seemed like everything was always heightened, especially sadness and anger. I found it hard to cope which is why I leaned toward alcohol. Just to numb it all. The night I didn't drink was punishment to myself. The guilty feeling just made me want to feel it all. I couldn't do anything to help him.

That next morning was different though. There was nothing layed out for me like usual. I deserve that. I never deserved Cassian's gentleness in the first place. It was never spoken but I always know it was him who left the stuff for me. Guess last night was the final straw. Whatever... I didn't care.

I ran my own bath and changed into clean clothes. I brushed my hair and pulled it up away from my face. I walked out of my bedroom in the House of Wind and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Cassian, Azriel and Mor were all there. I knew if they weren't out early in the morning they ate breakfast together sometimes. Rhys and I would join a lot in the past before but...

I wasn't ever awake for breakfast nowadays. If I was up that early I would skip breakfast and spar with Azriel at Windhaven. It felt like forever that I had been in the same room as all three of them. Thank the gods Amren wasn't here.

"Good, you're awake!" Cassian said loudly. I winced and closed my eyes. He did that on purpose.

"Would you mind keeping your voice down, please?" I whispered. I sat down at the table with them and some hot tea appeared in front of me. I loved this house.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you have a headache or something?" He didn't lower his voice. He was angry. That's fine.

"Azriel, there is something I wanted to show you," Mor said to him.

"Right, you mentioned you wanted to show me that. How about now?" Azriel replied. They both stood up from the table and walked quickly out of the dining room.

"You guys aren't slick." I rolled my eyes. I knew what they were doing.

"The drinking has to stop." Cassian went straight to the point. "You're not helping yourself."

"You don't get to dictate how I deal with my pain," I replied taking a sip of my tea.

"It's been 10 years," Cassians voice was soft and quiet now. "You have to find something else to lean on. You're going to drink yourself to death and I-... We can't lose you too."

I couldn't help the tears roll down my face.

"Our brother is in the hands of a monster. I cannot imagine the horrors he is going through and there is nothing I can do to help him! I can't save him, Cass... I can't free him. I do not know if he is okay. And I miss him so so much."

I hadn't let myself cry in front of my family since the day Rhys never came home. Since he spoke to all of us mind-to-mind that he couldn't come home.

Cassian was knelt in front of me, pulling me into his arms to cry into his shoulder. I knew he was crying too. We all shared the same pain. We all dealt with it differently. After a few moments of just holding onto each other, oh so very tightly. That deep fear of losing each other just how we had lost Rhys, we pulled away.

Cassian held my face in his hands, forcing me to look him directly in the eyes, our noses basically touching from the close proximity. "The drinking needs to stop, or slow down at least." He brushed away the tears on my face with his thumbs. "You are not going through this alone. We need you. I need you. You can't push us away."

"How do you deal with it?" I sniffed.

"I don't always. It hurts like hell and I'm fucking terrified for him... But Rhys wouldn't want this. He'd want us to be strong. For him, for each other, and for our court. Our people look up to us." Cassian pressed a longing kiss to my forehead. "You are not alone."

"What do you do when it gets to much?"

"Fight. Scream. Cry.... Fuck," he shrugged and I couldn't help but laugh a little. Cassian smiled when he saw he made me laugh. "I'm being serious. It's a great stress reliever."

"I'm aware. I just wasn't expecting you to say that when we are having a serious talk." I leaned away from his embrace, wiping the remaining tears from my face.

"You think highly of me if you think I can be serious for more than ten minutes." Cassian's smile matched my own now. We both bursted into laughter.

"Why did they send you to do the talking then?" Cassian stood up from his crouching position and sat on the table in front of me.

"Because Azriel would cave the second you started crying, Amren would most likely be the one to make you cry, and Mor didn't have the balls to confront you about it. We agreed that I could talk to you, comfort you and make you smile afterwards."

His smile fell after a moment of silence. "I need you back. This was the first time I've heard you laugh in 10 years. I need the old you back. And I'm not leaving your side until you are."

"I can't get back there. Not until Rhys is home and safe."

"I know... But you're not alone in this. We go through this together, okay?" Cassian held his hand out to me. I hesitated before I nodded and took a hold of it.

*** 5 years later***

"I gotta get to the Illyrian camp, Az is expecting me in 20 minutes." Cassian was walking around the kitchen of the cabin looking around for his things.

"Can't you tell him you're running late?" I pouted.

"You know he hates when people are late. He's already pissed at me for last week. 2 minutes late and he has a come apart." Cassian pulls on his boots.

"Yeah he really went hard in our training yesterday since I was late." I walked him over to the front door.

Cassian turned the knob to the front door and opened it slightly. He let out a yelp and jumped slightly.

"What's-?" His hand clamped over my mouth and he pushed me back to where my back was against the wall.

"Mor! Hey!" My eyes went wide. Oh shit. "What are you doing here?" He sounds so suspicious. Was he even trying to act normal?

The wards in the cabin will mask my scent and basically soundproofs the whole cabin to the outside. There's no way she will know I'm here until she steps a foot inside.

But if Cassian doesn't stop acting all shady then she's gonna know somethings up.

"Why are you acting all weird?" I could just imagine the confusion on her face right now. We are so screwed.

I was trying so hard not to laugh right now. Cassian's hand pressed tighter over my mouth. His thumb ran gently back forth on my cheek.

"I've got a female over. Look I don't need your judgement, okay? A guy has needs. But I would really prefer you not come in." Okay he's not wrong. He didn't say who he had over. Cassian is awful at lying so telling the truth is more convincing.

"Oh, really Cassian? Ugh," Mor gagged. "You couldn't have taken her somewhere else? This is our place. We share it."

"Don't act like you haven't brought someone up here to fuck before. We've all done it. Now, what do you want?" I smirked against his hand. I reached out my arm and ran a finger down the inside of his wing. Cassian inhaled quickly and tucked them in away from my reach.

"I left a book here that I need. Can I come in and get it?" Cassian moved more to where he blocked more of the entrance.

"Where is it? I'll get it." Mor told him where she left it and what it looked like. He closed the door in her face quickly. His hand that was covering my mouth now gripped my jaw.

"You cruel, wicked thing. Are you trying to get us caught?" He towered over me. His eyes flared with passion as he looked down at me.

I bit my lip and batted my eyelashes up at him. "Maybe," I smiled innocently.

His hand trailed from my face down to my throat where he squeezed gently. "You're so in for it tonight." He leaned down so close I thought he was going to kiss me. I craved it. I wanted him. I know he could smell my arousal.

His lips brushed against mine before he pulled back and walked away. "You're not the only one who can tease." He had Mor's book in his hands now. "I've gotta go. When you touch yourself later make sure you think of me." He winked at me before opening the front door and walking out.

Asshole.

Ok so I stopped the excessive drinking that day Cassian talked to me 5 years ago. But I was having a hard time channeling my emotions into something else. I think I definitely wore Azriel and Cassian out with the constant sparring. Which was a shock. I screamed a lot, cried a lot. Cassian was by my side the whole time like he said.

400 years. 400 years I have known Cassian and not once have either of us made a move. I know Cassian never did because I was Rhy's little sister. I never made a move because I didn't want to anything to change between mine and Cassian's friendship.

But one night. Just one night I was so tired of screaming and crying. My whole body hurt from sparring with Azriel that morning. But I still needed a release. Some sort of release.

I don't think I remember exactly how it happened next. I think 400 years of pent up sexual frustration finally broke between the two of us and neither one of us gave a fuck about what the repercussions would be.

And we haven't stopped since. We can't tell the others. No one can know. It's our secret. Mor and Azriel wouldn't understand. Amren couldn't give a fuck. I think she already knows anyway.

Azriel probably suspects something is going on. He is the spymaster overall. He knows everything. He hasn't said anything otherwise which I'm grateful for.

Maybe this happening between Cassian and I wasn't so surprising. I've always been attracted to him. I've always loved him as my family and best friend. Who am I kidding though? It's obviously been more than that.

We have something special.

I think he could be my mate. I love him so much. If he's not my mate I don't even care. I want him forever. I need him for eternity.

Part 2 continues here

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #cassian #azriel #rhysand #cassian fanfic #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acosf #rhysand sister #cassian x you #cassian acotar

[morgan-the-lonely-brick]

I have thoughts about the clip and especially about Fang and generally all of the scene so yeah, an analysis-like tangent full of spoilers below cut

Out of the entire crew, I think Fang and Frenchie (especially Fang) are literally the best people to recieve comfort from. It's double true for Izzy.

Not only do they have like. The least invasive and violent trauma out of the crew, but they're both very empathetic and want to help others in distress. Even when that person isn't a particular ray of sunshine... like Izzy.

It also makes sense for Fang to be the main comforter. He knows Izzy. He's known him for a long while. And he's known Blackbeard for a long while too.

Watching him from the beginning of the clip, he seems to be the first one to notice Izzy's not feeling great. Far before the others do!

This is the first we directly see Fang in the clip and yeah he looks surprised that they're throwing loot overboard - as you should be but... even more than that he looks ALARMED. He knows something's up.

After listening to Izzy for a few seconds he is completely sure something's up. He checks in with Frenchie to know if he's seeing it too. We don't know where Frenchie is looking, but I'd assume he reciprocates the look.

Izzy stops mid-sentence. That's not like him. The others will have noticed it too now. Sure enough, here's Jim, thoroughly confused and/or taken aback at least.

Fang protection mode ACTIVATE! His first thought is to ask how Izzy's doing (i am so soft for them oh my god-) and to touch him - reassure him. Ground him.

we then get a "I'm fine, unhand me" which Fang does, to give Izzy some space and checks in again with a "you really don't seem fine". He waits for Izzy's response. He wants to make SURE Izzy's okay, or rather, is patiently waiting for him to admit that he's not.

The others join in saying that they've noticed. They've noticed how destructive his relationship with Ed is. I can't even imagine what's running through Izzy's mind at this moment. Probably like a waterfall of emotion - shame and anger and sadness and everything is too much - he's soon to break. He's trying so hard to hold it back, but he can't. He can't, when the truth is being thrown directly at his face by his own crewmates.

Frenchie comments "he's cut off at least two more of your toes hasn't he?" and Izzy almost flinches at that sentence. He quivers. That's his breaking point. And I. have to stop a bit to look at the implications of this. Form this scene at least, I understood taht when Izzy fails to make the crew follow orders, he gets physically punished. As we heard earlier: "It is your job to f-" *he stops, he shakes slightly* he's thinking about the consequences of them not following his orders - more of his toes cut off. That's horrifying. I'd start crying too, jesus...

Fang knows it's his breaking point and goes back to comfort him - even forcing it a bit on him, because he knows Izzy will struggle, but needs it. God, does he need it. He's always pushing people away, but Fang won't let him this time. He won't let himself be pushed away, because he cares. And he wants to show Izzy that he cares. So he persists.

And after only a few seconds of a very feeble struggle, Izzy accepts it. He's been strong for so long. He's been brave and hurting and isolated and repressed for so. So long. And he needs to let go. And he does. He whimpers. He sounds like a puppy who's been kicked. And he is. He is a puppy. A puppy that's been severely hurt and doesn't WANT to be hurt anymore. (god, i am weak at the knees, someone call the ambulace, i think i'm dying)

Frenchie steps in as secondary comfort to show that Izzy's really not alone in this and that none of them actually hate him. Even if he thinks he deserves it. Not even Stede's former crew hate him. That's what Frenchie represents here - to me. Fang and frenchie together show him that love isn't meant to hurt so much. It's not meant to be like this. And they also ground him in that moment. Izzy looks at Frenchie several times as he whimpers, perhaps checking in - seeing if Frenchie leaves after seeing him weak. But he doesn't. He stayes and he waits for Izzy to be okay and I think that means the world to Izzy. It means the world to me too. Izzy deserves all the comfort by this point.

Also I want to throw Edward overboard.

11/10 i need Izzy to have more hugs

#boooo edward! booo!!! #how dare he #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd 2 #izzy my baby my puppy <3 #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #whump #emotional whump #izzy hands #ofmd izzy

[loveforsatoru]

Our Blue Spring- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Chapter 4: To Get Over You)

Shoko, Suguru, and Megumi watch from outside Satoru's office as he weeps, the pieces of the broken camera scattered along the floor. It felt like he was never going to stop crying. All of them were hurt when you left as well, but nothing would compare to how Satoru's been holding up. Neither of the 3 knew how to break the silence, but someone had to go in there and at least try to console him even if it seems impossible.

"I'll go." Shoko volunteers.

The 2 others look surprised at her willingness, but didn't protest.

She hesitantly cracks the door open before stepping inside. Satoru didn't notice she was there until she pulled out a stool and sat beside him.

He looks up at her with his eyes full of tears, and sleeves drenched. He quickly looks away, embarrassed and attempts to reach for his blindfold before remembering he threw it in the far corner of the room. He didn't want to be seen like this, at his most vulnerable. You were the only one he showed his true emotions around. He isn't used to being this way around other people.

The two sat in silence for a couple moments before Shoko spoke up.

"Gojo, it's been 7 years. You need to at least try and move on."

Her words made his heart hurt. There's no chance he'd be able to get over you, not after his numerous failed attempts at doing so. He's accepted the fact that he'll never move on from you. That part doesn't bother him. Only the lack of your presence.

"But I can't." He replies, voice hoarse from crying.

Shoko looked at him, mentally cursing at herself for believing that would be enough, but she couldn't let him find out how you've been doing. It would only pain him more. She's been in secret contact with you for years and promised she wouldn't go against your wishes of keeping your whereabouts private, especially from Satoru. Nobody knows how you've been doing except for her.

"I need to talk to her at least one more time. I need closure. Even if she doesn't want anything to do with me after that. I need to know why she left, how she's doing, if she's even thinking about me." He was beginning to ramble. Shoko wants so badly to tell him where you are and to go win your heart back, but she can't. You would never forgive her if she did.

"You can't do that. Don't even think of contacting her in any way. She doesn't want to see you again" Her voice came out harsh, and demanding, which only made Satoru's blood boil.

"How the hell would you know? It's not like she's spoken to anyone from around here for the last 7 years."

"Because if she wanted to be with you, she wouldn't have left. You need to get that through your head. She won't be coming back. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone else."

Of course, she doesn't know that. She doesn't know if you'll decide to ever come back, or if you still love him, but she knows you did all those years ago. She just needs to crush his thoughts about contacting you. He doesn't know how many problems that would cause.

Yet her words still cut through Satoru like glass. He didn't want to accept that you were really gone. A small part of him still had hope that you would return, but hearing somebody tell him the opposite made him begin to question it.

He looked down at his feet, feeling ashamed that he'd let himself be so naive, but he couldn't help it. The small possibility that you would one day be back gives him motivation to get out of bed in the morning.

"Shoko, please. Let me borrow your phone to call her. She blocked me the day she left and I know how close the two of you used to be. Maybe you're still in her contact list."

Hearing the way his voice quivers makes Shoko feel bad and almost give in, but she has to hold her ground.

"I'm sorry, Gojo, but I can't do that. I wish I could, I really do, but it's for the best if you don't know. Don't try and take matters into your own hands by snooping around in her business. You'll only hurt yourself. She's hiding from you for a reason. You can't change that. Accept it and move on."

With that, she leaves the room, not wanting to argue with him any longer. Megumi and Suguru who were watching everything go down turn to look at Shoko, not surprised by how it went. Megumi was about to walk into the room, try his best to console Satoru, but Suguru stopped him. It wasn't the right time.

It's beginning to get dark outside. The building is empty as it's far past school hours. Satoru hadn't moved from his place while everyone else went home. The silence was making his skin crawl. It's uncomfortable, suffocating.

Shoko's words have been repeating in his head nonstop. He wants to get to you, contact you, beg you to come back to him, but what if you deny him? He doesn't know what he'd do with himself if that were the case. Did he possibly do something to drive you away? Did you leave because of him? He wants the answers to his questions. He never got the closure. It bothers him to not know what caused all of this, and how he could've prevented it.

He wants to call you. It's not like he hasn't tried before. He's done it over 100 times, but they all resulted in nothing. He would never admit how half of the times he called you was just to hear your voicemail.

Maybe this time it'll be different.

He pulls out his phone from his pocket and clicks on your contact. It's the only one in his favorites.

*Ring*

*Ring*

*Ring*

"Hey!"

His heart nearly stops beating. Is this really happening?

"It's y/n, unfortunately I'm busy and unable to answer the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"

Just like that, his hope fades away even more when he realizes you had just changed your voicemail.

He sighs in frustration and slumps against the chair, staring up at the ceiling. He needs to clear his head and get some air.

He pushes his body off the chair with the little energy he has and picks up his blindfold, stuffing it in his pocket followed by throwing his sunglasses on, the ones you gave him for his 19th birthday. He's never worn another pair.

He walks through the empty hallways and thinks about how much time he's spent here. He regularly catches himself falling asleep on his office desk whenever the sleep deprivation begins to catch up to him. He's not at home as often. Though, he doesn't know if he can call it that without you there. You made it a home. Now, it's just a place he goes to every now and then.

The moment he steps outside, the winter air hits him, making him shiver. The sun is starting to set, the street lights being the main thing to illuminate the area around him. He strolls through the busy streets of Tokyo, people crowding all around him as he looks at the street attractions and stores. Somehow, they all connect back to you. Shopping malls, movie theaters, ice cream shops, cafes, there's a vivid image of you in every one. You liked a lot of things and Satoru always made sure to keep a mental note of all of them. He wonders if you still like the things you used to.

His mind is so occupied that he doesn't realize he's taken a bunch of wrong turns, ending up in a sketchy block. Strip clubs, broken down stands, barely any working street lights, making it darker than where he was previously.

He walks further down the road, eventually finding himself in front of a seedy bar. He doesn't typically go to bars as he's not much of a drinker, but he figures he'll go this time. Maybe it'll distract him.

As he walks through the door, he's immediately met with loud music blaring through his ears, making him want to walk right out and just go back to his apartment, but something's telling him to stay. He makes his way over to a stool in front of the bar counter and orders himself a glass of juice. He watches as people gamble, drink, smoke, and play games, seemingly carefree.

He wishes he could live a life without worries just for a day, but he knows that's impossible with the life that he's living. The strongest Jujutsu sorcerer whose life revolves around protecting others, but that's not even the hardest part. He's more than capable of wiping out half the universe, but this much strength isn't worth all the loneliness and suffering. He's grown accustomed to being alone, but that doesn't mean he enjoys it. It's something he has to live with whether he likes it or not.

He was beginning to get lost in his thoughts again before a woman approached him. She's beautiful, seems nice enough, so he responded when she spoke to him.

"Hey, mind if I sit down?"

Satoru shakes his head and motions for her to take a seat before turning his attention back to the glass of juice he hadn't touched, the ice beginning to melt.

The woman starts asking him questions in an attempt to get to know him better. He responds with little to no interest, only a shake, nod, dry chuckle, or a thumbs up.

"What's your name?" She scans him up and down, eyes landing on his exposed collarbone.

"Gojo." He replies, loud enough for her to hear.

"First name?"

"We aren't there yet." His harsh response makes her roll her eyes, but she decides to keep going.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I can't reveal that."

He seems like a stuck up asshole, but he can't be bothered to care. He's not even dressed formally, still in his jujutsu uniform. All he wanted was an escape from his own thoughts. This isn't helping.

"Won't you have a drink with me?"

He was about to turn down her offer, explain that he doesn't like to drink much, but he decides against it and agrees, ordering two shots for the both of them. He's felt stuck and unable to do anything for years, warped in an endless loop of misery. He'll try to let loose a little, try to put himself out there. What better way to do that than with alcohol?

The drinks eventually help him converse with the woman sitting next to him. He didn't reveal much about himself, but she was content with the fact he was no longer being dry.

"So, are you from around here?" She asks, taking a 2nd shot at getting to know him. She twirls her hair between her fingers, in an attempt to make herself look more appealing, but he pays no mind. She's looking at him as if she wanted to fuck him, which she definitely does. He's been approached countless times by women. He's not an idiot, he knows he's attractive but he always turns them down.

"Yeah, lived here my whole life." He responds, looking at her for the first time that night.

"Are you single?" She runs her fingers over his hand, but he's quick to pull away, putting his hand in his pocket. It feels wrong to be doing this. Flirting and talking to another woman in a seedy bar. It's almost as if he is in a relationship despite being single for over 7 years, but to him, you're always his #1. That wouldn't ever change.

"It's... complicated?" He responds, knowing full well it's not, but he doesn't intend to take it any further with this mystery woman.

"So what? You going through something with your girlfriend?" She asks, somewhat annoyed that he's denying her obvious advances, but she won't give up that easy. Who would pass up a chance with Satoru Gojo?

"You could say that." An insincere chuckle leaves his lips, tapping his fingers against the wood of the bar table, littered in empty beer bottles and shot glasses. He's starting to question what the fuck he's doing here.

"Let me help you take your mind off of her then. I promise you'll forget about her by the end of the night." She scoots her seat closer to him, leaning her elbow against the countertop and resting her head in her palm, nearly drinking in his appearance.

"Don't make a promise you can't keep. She's unforgettable." And he means it.

A few hours go by and the night outside only continues to grow darker as he orders more and more drinks, chugging one after the other. He can feel his head pounding, alcohol running through his body. He hates it. He hates the smell, he hates the taste, the way it makes his throat burn and chest tighten.

The woman is now practically sitting on his lap, his hand on the small of her back with her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing up his jaw. He listened to her talk as if he was interested in what she was saying, but he wasn’t, not one bit. His head has clouded with thoughts of you the entire night. If only she knew the reason he's staring at her like that is because he's thinking of you.

She leans in for a kiss before Satoru turns his head away and her lips land on his cheek, guilt and shame beginning to sink into him.

"I can't do this. I need to go." He shoves her off of him, grabs his stuff and leaves. He could hear her call out for him.

"Why are you leaving?!"

"Because you're not the one that I want!" He replies, already out the door and making his way back to where he was supposed to be in the first place: His side of the bed, leaving yours empty because he can't bring himself to sleep on it. He sure as hell won't let another woman there either.

None of these women are you. They don't look like you, smell like you, talk like you, laugh like you, feel like you. Nobody understands him like you. Nothing will ever compare to you.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo angst

[smartycvnt]

Title: Dependent

Pairing: Cody Rhodes x Reader

Prompt: "I didn't realize I was such an inconvenience." + "Don't touch me."

Word Count: 917

Ash was no stranger to anger. She had struggled to contain it for the majority of her life. It always seemed like the moment that she was happy and had things under control, she was blindsided. Cody had promised her that things would be different, and yet, they had still managed to stay the same.

Cody was great to her, and Ash wouldn't have willingly traded it for anything. She had never been with anybody else who knew how to calm her down like Cody did. They had been friends first for a long time, but Ash knew that it went further than that. Cody Rhodes was the love of her life and soulmate.

"Ash, I didn't mean it like that," Cody tried. It was unfortunately in vain. Every time that he tried to reassure Ash that they were on good terms, it fell on deaf ears. All of that was starting to grate on Cody's nerves, but he knew that nothing good would come of having an outburst alongside Ash.

"You meant it how you said Cody, it's plain and simple. I just didn't realize that I was such an inconvenience for you. I mean, you might as well go back to your perfect life before. At least Brandi could handle her emotions like an adult, right?" Ash stared up at Cody with eyes full of tears. It was taking every bit of her restraint not to let them fall. Ash's anger tended to come in a very cold and detached manner, and Cody knew that the tears meant he had fucked up.

"You're not an inconvenience," Cody said as he tried to put his arm around Ash's shoulders. She shrugged him away instantly, leaving Cody to stand there dumbfounded. "Ash, come on."

"Don't touch me!" Ash shouted. Cody's face fell. She stormed away from him and their house. Cody wasn't sure what to do, but he knew Ash needed some space. All he could do was hope that she'd be smart and call someone to come and get her before she got too far. The last thing that Cody ever wanted was to hear that something had happened to Ash.

The hours ticked by as Cody waited for any sort of news about Ash. He could feel exhaustion weighing down his mind and body, but he didn't fall asleep until long after the sun had risen in the morning. Cody hadn't moved from the living room couch. He didn't want Ash to come back and think that he had easily moved on with his night without her there. He tried her phone a couple of times, but it went straight to voicemail both times.

Cody was at his wit's end by the time that he finally bit the bullet and called Seth. It wasn't an easy task to ask for help from someone who hated him, but Cody knew that Seth was the most likely person to know where Ash had run off to. Ash was like an honorary SHIELD member and had been a close friend of Seth's before his WWE days. "Seth, hey man, you haven't seen Ash have you?"

"I haven't seen her, but Becky said that she called last night pretty upset. I'm out of town, but Ash should be with Becky and Charlotte. Whatever you did, you really messed up. You'd better fix it," Seth warned. Cody knew that he did need to fix things, but it was so hard to make sure that Ash understood him.

"I will. I don't want to lose her," Cody said. He hung up the phone and sent a text to Becky letting her know that he was headed over there. She answered almost instantly, and despite her message being reassuring, Cody had a bad feeling about going over there. He wanted things to work out, but there was no guarantee that Ash would take him back. She had a tendency of holding grudges, even whenever she didn't want to distance herself from whoever she was mad at in the moment.

Cody's bad feeling only got worse when he saw Ash waiting for him in the driveway. She looked like she had been crying since she left. Cody was hit with a wave of guilt that made him feel sick to his stomach. He gingerly got out of the car, and Ash walked right up to him.

"I can't take you back. Not right now at least," Ash told him.

"You couldn't at least humor me a little before you break my heart?" Cody asked with a dry laugh. Ash shook her head as she looked down at her hands. "Can you at least tell me why?"

"I let myself become dependent on you, and I can't do that. I need to be my own adult. You can't come calm me down constantly. One day I'd love to revisit this because I love you more than anybody else in the world, but it's not fair. Not the way things are. Goodbye Cody, I love you."

"Yeah, alright. I love you too. I wish that it didn't have to end like this. I'd never have even opened my mouth if I knew this was where things were going," Cody said. Ash grabbed onto Cody's arm to steady herself as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. Cody watched Ash go back inside of Becky's house, but he couldn't bring himself to go back into the car or anywhere for quite a few minutes.

Tag List: @himbos-hotline @thepalaceofmelanie @allyinwonderland18 @coleskingdom

#my writing #one shot #wwe x reader #wwe #cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes

[doe-writes-stuff]

You'd left. Off to take care of a personal matter in the west. Alone. With no way of knowing how long you'd be gone, or even if you'd come back at all, you'd parted on...strained terms. Despite the odds against ever seeing you again, Daryl made sure to keep a light on for you.

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Slight angst, reader is described to have a female relative (relation not specified). Strong language, 18+ explicit sexual content, mixture of rough sex and slow body worship. Set during first half of season 9, but doesn't follow strict canon timeline or events.

"I should come with you."

"Daryl...you can't." You'd said, regret and guilt dripping from each word forced out of your mouth but doing your best to remain firm. They stung, but you didn't take them back. Didn't try to sugarcoat it. This wasn't easy on you, and no matter how much he understood why, it still hurt to hear. Watching you with your bag already packed hurt worse. "Rick needs you, Judith and Carol, and everyone else. It should just be me."

His head had shaken slowly. "They'll manage just fine without me for awhile."

"This could all be some pointless goose chase, and I...I feel bad enough even deciding to go, like I'm abandoning all of you, but..." He can see it, the way your eyes shine with unshed tears and the determination behind them to not let them fall. You hated crying. He knew that. "I need to do this. I need to know. She might still be out there."

"Don't mean you gotta do it alone, Y/N."

"I can't ask that of you."

"Don't have to."

"Daryl-"

"I mean it." He pushes, tone a bit more pressing than before. He shifts closer, drawing your eyes towards his own. He reaches down and takes your hands in his own, thumb idly brushing along your knuckles in comfort. "Goin' out there by yourself ain't safe. Ain't smart, neither. Need someone to have your back. Can't do things alone no more, you know that."

You're silent, worrying your lip beneath your teeth. He can't quite read the expression in your face, in your eyes. Your thoughts are too muddled, swirling with indecision and a plethora of emotions all vying for dominance. Terse seconds pass, silence between you, but eventually you've seem to come to a decision. His heart settles a little, satisfied that he'd made his case. Your head ducks down momentarily, which he takes as acceptance.

Daryl nods. "I'll tell Rick in the mornin' that we're leaving, maybe see if I can pack some extra provisions from the pantry. Doubt it'll take much convincin'. I brought back half that shit anyway."

The only response he gets is a small, slow nod. But it's agreement enough for him, and he pulls you into his arms. It's instinct now to relax under his protective embrace, allowing your fears and your guilts to fall away, if only for a moment. They'd come back in full when you next awoke.

"Come sleep." He mutters against your hair, feeling the way his lips press a kiss onto the crown of your head. Your eyes close. "We'll figure it out in the morning."

Your fingers clench against the back of his shirt, head buried into his chest. He's warm, the beat of his heart a comforting sound. One you know you'll be without for a long while. You make sure to breathe in his scent, filling your senses and making your decision all the harder to enforce.

And so you don't resist when he guides you back to bed, and you savor the way his hands feel on your skin. Devotion and love spill from his lips and yours. And when you lay beside him, listening to his even breathing as he falls asleep amongst the tousled covers, you try burning this memory into your head forever.

'Don't come looking for me.' 'I hope you can understand. I hope you can forgive me.' 'If it'd been Merle, wouldn't you feel the same?' 'I'm sorry. I will always love you, no matter what, no matter how long. Even if...I don't make it.'

Daryl stares down at the messily-scrawled note folded on his nightstand. He'd read at least 3 times by now, but had barely paid attention to the past few, the words blurring together. Noting the dried tear-stains on the edges, he feels a hollowness creep into his chest. It's as you say in your letter. Had it been Merle, all those years ago back at the prison, he'd have done the same.

He understands. He wished he didn't.

It would make it all easier to hate you. But he can't bring himself to.

The beginning days are the hardest. Your absence is a blatant, empty spot in his daily routine. He'd turn to say something to you, only for you to not be there. He'd stop by the house after hunts and scavenge missions to see you, only to remember the lights would be off and you'd not be home.

Each instance of forgetting, just for a split second, that you'd left sticks another proverbial knife in his chest and twists. They bring back the moment of discovering you'd left him behind all over again. It stung. It twisted the hilt a little bit more, digs the blade in a little deeper. It fucking sucked, each and every time.

Daryl had an excellent poker face, but even the others were beginning to notice how much it was affecting him. It was a lesson in patience, the amount of times he'd been asked if he was alright in those first few weeks after you'd left. Most of them he'd been able to field off with a gruff 'Just fine.' Others saw past the facade.

Rick had a good sense of things, and he knew Daryl well enough by now that his words often didn't tell the whole story when it came to those pesky internal 'feelings.' He'd asked him along on more scavenge runs, just to get him out of Alexandria. But of course, not one to pry too much into Daryl's business, he didn't ask the questions the hunter knew was hanging off the tip of his tongue.

Carol was one of them too, unsurprisingly. Half the time he thought she could read his mind. She made trips to Alexandria more often, popping over with pretty weak reasons for visiting from the Kingdom. She hovered, appearing at the most unpredictable of times. It didn't take a genius to know why. When Daryl least expected her, she'd be there with an offer to go hunt together. To go take care of Judith so Michonne and Rick could get out for awhile and spend some time beyond the walls.

It helped. He appreciated that Rick and Carol never pried. Rather, they were just...there. A companion to fill the long silences he found himself left with during the day. A distraction when he needed it most, since even solo outings past the walls were often filled with thoughts of you. Having someone else there eased the hurt, and muffled the many negative thoughts that clouded his mind in his moments of solitude.

Weeks stretched, and you were still gone. No means of communication meant Daryl was left to wonder about what you were doing, where you were, and if you were still even alive at all. It didn't get easier with time, the ache in his chest, the missing piece in his life. It just became familiar, and so he worked around it. Sidestepping it each and every morning until it was a constant numbness he had trained himself to ignore.

It was frightening, how easy it seemed to be. How easily he could seem to live without you around. Once upon a time, that didn't sound so feasible.

He felt guilty. He felt bitter.

He hoped you were doing ok.

Daryl didn't talk about you anymore. Not to others. And nowadays, Judith only occasionally brought up your name, asking where Aunt Y/N was, and when you'd be home. He was usually able to dodge an answer by offering to play a game.

There'd come a day when he couldn't get away with doing that, but...well, the time for that hadn't yet passed.

At some point, he'd quit counting the days. That didn't mean Daryl stopped missing you--he certainly still did. But the endless pull towards someone out there past the gates, miles and miles away, wasn't quite so strong. Whether it was a sign of him moving on, or just growing to accept the fact that you'd left...he still couldn't tell.

He didn't want to look into it all that much anyway.

Daryl hadn't heard anyone approaching as he stood smoking on the porch of his home. The wind was strong, and the neighbor's makeshift wind chimes had covered the sound.

"Borrow a smoke?"

His head whips back to see Rosita sauntering her way up to his home, arms crossed and hair tied back in a pony tail. He straightens, reaching up to the inside pocket of his vest to grab the pack of cigarettes as she stops a few feet away. Shaking one out, he hands it to her. After a flick of his lighter, the end begins to smoke and she takes a long drag.

"Thanks."

Daryl only hums in reply, standing there on this windy night, looking out towards the gated and walled entrance of Alexandria.

For several minutes, neither of them speak, enjoying their cigarette in companionable silence. Daryl wondered why Rosita was out so late, but figured maybe she just couldn't sleep.

Eventually, the minutes and lack of conversation gets to her, and she gives a quiet laugh, gesturing towards the door to Daryl's home. "You know you leave that lamp on every night in this front room?"

Daryl glances back, but only shakes his head. "I know."

"Drives Mrs. Beckett crazy." Rosita continues, flicking the ashes off of her cigarette, head nodding towards the house across from his. "Likes to bitch about how you're wasting electricity, or how she can't sleep because she knows it's on. It's like she can't talk about anything else."

"The grid can handle one fuckin' lamp." He mutters without further explanation, giving a shrug.

"I've told her that. So's Eugene, for what good that did." Rosita says with an amused smile, side-eyeing the hunter as she sucked down the last of her cigarette. She tosses it to the ground and digs it into the wood of the porch with her shoe. "Won't stop her from complaining about it, though."

He doesn't bother responding to that. Frankly, he didn't give a shit what Mrs. Beckett thought or wanted. He barely knew the old woman anyway.

"Why do you leave it on, anyway?"

This time, he doesn't say anything, just continues looking out towards the wall. He knows she's smart, that his silence speaks louder than any explanation would. Rosita figures it out quickly, and hums her understanding after a moment.

Another long pause settles, before she shifts in place and watches Daryl's closely when she speaks next. "I got talking with Eugene the other day."

Daryl had a feeling where this conversation was going--a place he didn't really want it to go--but obliged her clear bait anyway. "And?"

"Figured it was about 40 days to Cheyenne, on foot one way." She said carefully, not wanting to push too far, but hoping he still recognized she was worried about him. "35 if she pushed, and much less than that if she rigged a car."

Daryl knew what she was getting at, but still played dumb anyway. "So?"

Rosita saw right through him, but pointed out what they both knew despite that. "Daryl...it's been 6 months."

He straightened, agitation making him fidget, his jaw set tightly. "Don't mean a damn thing."

"Look, I'm all for holding out hope, but...at some point it's time to let go. How likely is it that she's still-"

"Think I'll turn in. Wind's gonna bring a storm tonight." He interrupted suddenly, not daring to look her in the face as he said his goodbye. "Best get headin' home."

He heard her sigh, and that tension in the air made it seem like she was about to say more. But in the end, she took the hint and descended the steps of his porch, footsteps heard walking down the sidewalk towards her own house.

For 8 months and 13 days, you'd been gone. And yet still, as you walked up that road towards the imposing walls of Alexandria, you felt like it was only yesterday that you'd snuck out the gates before the sun had come up.

The pack was heavy on your shoulders; not from supplies, but the weariness of a long journey. Of burdens and the weight of your decisions and actions. They settled, making your bones ache. But you felt lighter and lighter the closer you got to home.

Home. How you'd missed it so much.

And you'd missed him, too. Daryl had never left your mind. Not once.

Maybe the seasons had changed, but you recognized each abandoned car leading up to the Alexandria Safe Zone, even the particularly gnarled trees off to the side of the road. Little waypoints and landmarks that you'd memorized and passed by hundreds of times before. Now, each one seemed to propel your feet that little bit further, encouraging you to keep going.

Almost there.

And when those gates finally did come into view at the end of the road, you nearly cried. That feeling of relief as it washed over you was...immeasurable. Palpable and freeing. You couldn't begin to describe just how much it affected you.

There were, of course, look-outs at the gate for signs of approaching danger. And while you would've appreciated having been recognized after so many months away, you supposed that would have been too much to ask for.

"That's far enough!" The person on watch called, pointing a gun in your direction. From this distance, you couldn't tell who it might have been. "State your name and business!"

"My name's Y/N." You say, holding your hands out to make it clear you weren't holding onto a weapon. Your knife is clearly visible in its small sheath at your hip, but you weren't actively reaching for it. "I've been gone for a long time, but this is my home."

"Right." The person says with doubt clear in their tone. "As if I'd just believe you."

"I want to talk to Rick Grimes, then." You say calmly, smiling when the barrel of their gun lowered just a fraction. You felt a little silly having to name-drop some of the most influential members of the community, but whatever made them believe you, you supposed. "Or Daryl Dixon, or Michonne-"

"Alright, alright, hang on a second." They cried from the tower, lowering the gun and holding up a walkie talkie to their mouth. They spoke too low to hear, but you gathered they were calling into one of the three people you'd just mentioned.

You don't have to wait long, before a commotion on the other side of the gate alerts you to someone's approach. They call for the gate to open. Your heart soars, waiting to see a familiar face.

The metal gate slides open, and a man steps out cautiously. He's a bit rounder in the belly than you remembered--the benefits of safety in the end of days--and the full beard is new. But there's no mistaking the way he walks, and the way his eyes take you in when he steps past the gate's threshold.

A smile's broken out over your face as the two of you walk closer, until finally you embrace Rick with a tight hug, laughing at the reunion. If there was still any doubt that you were indeed a citizen of Alexandria, it was now dashed.

"About time you came home." He says in a rasp, patting his hand against your back in a comforting gesture. "It's been too long."

"I know. I'm sorry." You admit, guilt and regret coloring your voice. "I shouldn't have left."

You pull away, but Rick gets a good look at you and pats your shoulder with his hand. "You felt you had to. It's family. I understand."

You nod, on the verge of tears, but somehow managing to keep composed. "You're family too. Lost sight of that for a little while, I guess."

Rick waves you inside, giving a wave to the look-out at the on watch as a sign that everything was fine. You enter the walls for the first time in 8 months, admiring everything new and all that had stayed the same.

"How's Judith?" You ask.

"Growin' bigger every day. Can hardly believe she's already three." Rick smiles fondly, shaking his head. Then, he turns to look at you. "She asks for you, sometimes. Wonders where you've been."

The thought of seeing the youngest Grimes was appealing, though you were still weary from your travels. You probably didn't have the necessary energy to meet with her just yet.

"I'll see her once I've settled in." You promise, and Rick nods.

"It can wait 'til tomorrow. I'll let the others know you're back in the meantime."

Rick spends the next few minutes filling you in on all that you'd missed while on your trip. You're thankful to hear that most of it was minor little things. At least you hadn't missed another damn war, or anyone you loved dying. That would have been a lot to bear.

As you get closer to Daryl's home, Rick seems to remember something, and hesitates.

"Forgot to mention...Daryl's out on a hunt." He admits, no doubt crushing your hopes of reuniting with your partner that day. "Not sure when he'll be back, honestly, but I reckon he wouldn't mind if you were to stay in his home now that you're back. As I recall, you practically lived there anyway before you left."

Your laugh away the slight embarrassment at his observation, and the amusement is quite evident in his face. "Yeah, I guess that's true..."

"He'll be happy to see you." Rick states simply, stopping just outside Daryl's home as you approach.

"I hope so." You say, sudden doubt creeping in. You grimace a little, stopping at the stoop of the porch. "We didn't exactly...part on great terms. At least...I think so."

Rick reaches out and pats your shoulder again. "I won't lie, he took it hard. But I'm sure he'll make his peace with it, now that you're back. Love has a way of helping you sort things out."

And with that, he gives your shoulder a squeeze, before leaving you at the door to Daryl's home.

Something compels you to just take it all in. It was just like you remembered it being. A lamp stood lit behind the curtains in the front window. Strange...why leave the lights on when he wasn't home?

Stepping inside is a surreal mix of second nature and unknown territory. Daryl hadn't really changed anything in the interior; the couch and side tables and other trinkets around his home were exactly where you'd remembered them to be. But the atmosphere felt so...different. A little hollow.

Were you even still welcome here? You hoped so...

You deposit your pack next to the side table in the hallway, your usual spot for stuff after a run. Old habits, you thought to yourself. You'd put it back where it really went later on, but for now it would do. Your shoes went along with it, bare feet feeling blissfully unburdened without them on. Socked feet pad slowly throughout his home.

It's all just as you remembered, and your clothes are even still in the drawers in the bedroom. You figure that's a good sign, and change into something much more comfortable after a long-desired shower. The water is blissful on your skin, washing away the dirt of your traveling.

As you dry yourself and dress, you can't help but bury your nose in one of Daryl's shirts, reveling in the scent of safety and comfort. And while you may be missing the man himself, for now this would tide you over enough until his return.

With no pressing matters, and no clue as to what to even do now that you'd come home, you decide that a nap was much-needed. It may only be the afternoon, but the miles behind you were starting to make themselves known, lulling your eyelids heavier with fatigue.

You crash on the couch in a heap, falling asleep easier than you had in months.

Daryl didn't understand the knowing smile that Rick had given him upon returning to Alexandria late that night. Not to mention it was strange that Rick chose such a late hour to take watch. Not thinking much of it, he entered the gates and drove towards his home.

The rumble of his bike faded as he shut the engine off, popping the kickstand and standing from the bike. After a long two days of hunting with nothing to show for it, he was happy at the prospect of a nice, long sleep.

The house was dark, save for the light still on in the window, but he paid it no mind, closing the door and shrugging off his pack. He passed by the hallway side-table, setting it beside the other that was sitting by-

His steps halted, eyes swinging down to rivet themselves on something that was so incredibly familiar and yet so out of place. At first, it hadn't even registered that something was amiss. The sight of a pack here was so ingrained, that nothing had jumped out at him. But now...

He hadn't left that there. He didn't even own a backpack like that. But he recognized it all the same. And beside it...

Shoes.

A noise further into the house caught his attention. The spill of lights from the kitchen told him someone was there. He'd been certain to turn off all the lights before he'd left for his hunt.

And while a tiny sliver of his brain thought to suspect something malicious was going on--visitors didn't typically stop by at 2 in the morning--the hope that soared in his chest overpowered it.

It felt like the air was yanked from out of his lungs as he stopped just outside the kitchen entryway. There you stood, swaying back and forth to whatever music you were listening to in your headphones, the makings of a sandwich out before you. You faced away from him, unaware of his presence.

Daryl let out a stuttered breath as he ran a hand down his face, a swirl of different emotions welling in his chest. He was...pissed, actually. You'd left him behind all those months ago, lied to him to do it. All of the old anger bubbled and surfaced at the sight of you. He was hurt, wondering how you could have gone through with going off on your own, leaving your fellow survivors in your rearview.

At some point, he'd thought long and hard about exactly what he was going to say to you, should he get the chance. He'd known precisely all the bitter and spited words he'd want to throw into your face, telling you exactly what you'd put him through all this time.

He couldn't recall a damn single word of it now.

And despite how the wound had been ripped open seeing you in the flesh after all this time, despite the anger that raged and threatened to speak the venom that had once consumed him...he was too relieved to see you alive, safe, and in one piece to bother channeling that anger.

At the end of the day, you'd still come back. You'd come home. To him.

Instead, just below the relief of your return, rising steadily and with such intensity he hadn't anticipated, was a desire he hadn't felt for so long. How many nights had he lay awake, recalling memories of the softness of your body, the touch of your fingers on his skin? And now that he had you here...

His feet carry him forward before he can really think about what he was doing.

It's the movement in your peripheral vision that makes you look sharply up at him, startled but the sudden presence of someone else. You hadn't anticipated being interrupted during your midnight snack.

But he's here. He's there, getting closer by the second. You yank your headphones out, holding out a hand. You probably should have rehearsed what you'd say to him beforehand, to try easing the hurt and betrayal he must feel.

"Daryl, I'm sorry...I-"

You can't manage anything after that, given his lips smash to yours in a bruising and long-overdue kiss. Shock sets in for a single second, a mumbled grunt swallowed by his mouth, but then leaning into his embrace as his arms wrap around you, pulling you in, was instinctive. You fall into that familiar, safe feeling, wondering if perhaps this was always how your eventual reunion would have turned out. Daryl was always a man of action rather than words, anyway. The time for apologies could come later.

You can hardly breathe, locked in his arms, at his mercy. He kisses you like he never thought he'd ever get to again. And maybe for the longest time, that's exactly what he'd thought. A pang of guilt stabs you through the heart, realizing the sort of pain you'd caused him by leaving, but Daryl doesn't give you the chance to dwell on it, teeth slowly dragging back along your bottom lip and pulling a whine from your throat.

And, god, how desperate you sounded...it made him groan. That sound haunted him for weeks on end. How could you so easily rile him up like this? You leave for months, and all it takes is a pretty little noise to get his blood boiling with need. Fuck if he wasn't just as desperate for you, too...

He couldn't stop himself. Like a recovering addict caving, going back to his fix, his hands touch you any place he can reach, rough palms smoothing over your curves. The clothes in the way is annoying, confining. Part of him wants to yank and tear them away from you, but another side wants to try calming himself down, taking this first time together again slow. It had been so long, he didn't want to fuck up the first chance he could.

Your mind is a hazy fog of sudden lust, so much so you barely register the way he's reached down to lift you by your thighs and wrap you around his waist. His strength has you dizzy, drunk off of his scent and his warmth and the way his fingers dug into the skin on the back of your thighs. It made you tighten your legs around his waist, the sensation of him walking you somewhere else secondary to the way you did what little you could to grind yourself against the crotch of his jeans.

You wouldn't have been able to answer if later asked how you managed to get to the bedroom so quickly. One second you'd been in the kitchen, and the next you were being slammed onto the comforter by your back, Daryl's large and corded frame practically smothering you in the best way.

Your head tilting back with a pleased sigh, Daryl takes the opportunity to latch onto the exposed skin of your neck, intent to leave a mark. The thought of something permanent on you, from him--a sign of some sort that he couldn't put into words at the moment--felt important. And by the way you were moaning as he gave the flesh a rough suck, you seemed to agree.

One hand trails under and up his shirt, taking advantage of the closeness to explore the body you'd gone so long without once more. The familiar texture of scars in all the places you remembered. Muscles like gentle ridges under your fingers. They trail along his nipples, stroking in appreciation and pulling a surprised grunt from him, before frustration kicks in and you hastily tug the shirt up so he could take it off.

It's discarded somewhere behind you, and thus begins the frantic undressing of each other, heavy, panting breaths making it clear just how much neither of you were able to slow down now that you'd started. There'd never been a greater need to eliminate all barriers between you than now. As soon as his jeans and underwear are low enough to expose his hard length, your hand takes hold of it, giving him several loving pumps.

His curse is stuttered, wavering. Barely more than a huff of air released as the tension between you grows steadily. Daryl wastes no time in reaching for your wet cunt, two fingers plunging in without preamble. Your back arches up, wanting more. A keening noise escapes you, and hearing it just spurs him to start a fast and demanding pace as he fucks you with them.

The wet sounds they produce are obscene, but your head is nearly bursting with how damn good it all feels. You're a moaning mess, trying desperately to keep up with your own ministration of his cock, wrists working back and forth a little faster. His hips thrust into your hand instinctively, seeking more friction, a faster pace, something more. And while you know Daryl typically tries to keep quiet in the midst of sex, he just can't help the groans this time around.

Maneuvering your leg around his waist, you draw his hips closer to where you need him, lifting your own to brush your wetness against his hardened shaft, tantalizing and teasing. The time for foreplay was over, at least in your mind. Heart pounding a painful beat in your chest, you can't imagine waiting any further to feel him fill you entirely.

Daryl's fingers retreat from your wetness, and although their absence makes you groan, the press of his tip is more than enough to sate your once more.

Strangely, he doesn't immediately thrust in, rather pulling his head back enough to just...look at you. You look back, silent. One hand, still wet from your own arousal, trails delicately over your nakedness, over the curve of your hips and the sides of your breasts, as if reassuring himself that you were real. Or perhaps taking the opportunity to relish in having you underneath him once more. The jarring contrast to the frantic pace you'd both just been exhibiting has you blinking, struck silent.

But the moment is over almost as soon as it began, cut short by the jerking of Daryl's hips, sheathing himself fully to the hilt in one smooth motion. A mixture between a gasp and a whimper is jolted from your throat, the pleasure catching you entirely off guard. You barely have time to wrap both legs around his waist before he's setting a steady pace, his own ragged breath exhaled onto your shoulder.

He fucked you rough, sparing no time in reminding you of just how much pleasure you'd missed out on all these months. The familiar yet forgotten sensation of his cock stroking your inner walls had you crying out, overwhelmed, wanting more. Your nails dig into his skin, scratching and clawing when the pain only spurns him on faster.

You're mesmerized by the flexing of the muscles in his arms, hands planted on either side of your head on the comforter, fisting the fabric between his fingers as he pistons his cock deep inside of you. And when your eyes follow the arms up and peer into his face, his expression is a mixture of frustration and adoration the likes of which you had fantasized about during your many lonely nights.

Anger flowed like water behind his eyes, recognizable even now, but it never lasted long. Always overshadowed by such relief, such love, that you began to wonder if you'd ever seen it at all. Talking would come later. Right now, you both just needed him to fuck you until you couldn't stand up.

You weren't destined to last long. The time away meant that your orgasm built up much quicker than you would have hoped or expected. It just felt too good, having him atop you, inside of you, surrounding you this way. All you could see and breathe was Daryl, and that alone had your legs tensing around his hips in unspoken warning of your impending orgasm. With a responding groan, he understands, putting further effort into the snap of his hips, plunging even deeper than before.

When you cum, it's like white-hot frost crackling over your senses. Inch by inch, you feel yourself shudder, letting the peak of your pleasure overtake you until you're seeing black dots at the edge of your vision. Your limbs lock around Daryl like a vice, making it more difficult for him to move as you ride along the bliss. He grunts, unable to do much more than rut against you, chasing his own release in any way he can.

As the most of the orgasm passes, Daryl shifts and uses his hands to pry your legs apart, keeping them wide as he frantically thrusts, ragged breathing giving away just how close he was. You're a twitching heap beneath him, letting him seek that edge with your body, accepting the overstimulation in stride. When it nearly proves too much to bear anymore, he's stuttering a moan and slowing his hips down remarkably, chest heaving when he finally meets you over that crest.

Lazy thrusts work the both of you through your climaxes, and the rough and unrelenting pace that had been there just moments before slowed to a much more relaxed one. As Daryl caught his breath, he lowered his mouth to your skin, shaking hands caressing the sweaty skin he could reach, peppering kisses on your stomach and sternum.

You lack the breath to speak, and simply let all of your inner feelings shine through the gentle gaze you give him, tentatively reaching a hand up to glide your fingers through his hair. He always used to love when you did that, and it seemed that was still the case. His eyes closed in content at your touch, and he lowers his head to rest upon your chest.

Eventually, after dozens of minutes simply laying there, basking in the aftermath of your reunion, you summon the forethought to recognize you should probably clean up after your passionate fuck. The heat was slowly dying away, the house's draft that never seemed to go away chilling the sweat upon your skin. However, when you try to move, Daryl makes an effort to put a stop to it, leaning more heavily into you.

"Not yet" He mumbles gravely, not opening his eyes. You huff a breath, the corner of your mouth lifting in amusement.

"Daryl, we're all sticky and sweaty."

"Just...stay here." He says, eyes finally cracking open to peer into your own. And try as you might, you're at the mercy of the heartbreakingly pained gaze he directs at you. The vulnerability. The hurt. Months of uncertainty and guilt and anger stirred up into that one look, pleading for you to understand that he just needs you here. Right here, and nowhere else.

The amusement shifts into something gentler, and you give an affirmative nod, trailing one finger down his cheek. "Ok."

#daryl dixon #daryl Dixon x reader #fem reader #the walking dead x reader #twd #the walking dead #scenario #daryl Dixon smut

[joojeans]

Hey lovely, can I request &team reaction to their s/o crying after meeting them for the first time in months because she missed them? <3

&team hyung line: s/o crying because she missed them

k: y/nnnnn~ your eyes widen and look up from your phone at the familiar voice. you hear the front door click shut and your eyes are already watering as you jump up from your bed and hurry to meet your boyfriend. he smiles the second he sees your head poke out of your room, lifting his arms to make a display of the two coffees he’s holding—one in each hand. i got your favor—oof. he looks down, eyes softening as he sees you holding onto him, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. hey, he whispers softly, dropping his head to rest against the top of yours, hoping it’s some sort of comfort when his hands are full. he carefully navigates your bodies toward the nearest table, knowing you’ll just come with him as he moves because you won’t be letting go anytime soon. he puts the drinks down to free his hands and reaches down, taking your face in both of his hands as he lifts your eyes up to his. his eyes are darting between yours, surprised by the tears he finds there. y/n? you sniffle, struggling to speak past the lump in your throat. “i just missed you so much.” his lips form a pout and he wraps his arms protectively around your waist, hugging you tightly to him. he cradles the back of your head in his hand, pressing it against his chest again as he holds you. i missed you too.

fuma: you sigh as you walk through your front door, slipping off your shoes and placing your things on the counter. there are still approximately twenty-four more hours that need to pass before fuma is back where he belongs—with you. your brows furrow when you hear noise coming from the living area. did you leave your tv on somehow? you take a few steps in the general direction so you can peek into the room. your eyes brim with tears at the most welcome surprise, feet already carrying you towards him. fuma jumps a bit when you approach him from behind, startling from the concentration he was giving to the video game he was playing. baby! he looks as excited as your heart feels as he tosses his controller to the opposite side of the couch and pulls you onto his lap. he doesn't seem surprised or thrown off by your tears, hands rubbing up and down your sides soothingly. happy tears, hm? when you nod, he smiles and hugs you close, kissing the top of your head. i missed you so much, did you know that? couldn't wait even one more hour. his hand alternates between rubbing and patting your back, giving you as much time as you need to feel your emotions.

nicholas: baby, i'm outside. i can't wait to see you. nicholas's voice on the other end of the phone feels unreal. you can't believe he's saying that. you can't believe you're really about to see him again for the first time in so long. a tear drops from its duct onto your cheek and you try to brush it away and steady your voice so he won't know you're crying when you tell him that the door's open. it only takes a minute for him to find his way inside, spotting you standing awkwardly in the kitchen right away. y/n. he says your name with a heart in his tone and you can't stop the dam from breaking again. luckily, nicholas is already in front of you when the tears escape, concerned eyes scanning your face to make sure that nothing is wrong. baby, baby. are you okay? what's wrong? did something happen? tell me. please? i don't care what it is. just tell me, please. you blink up at him through wet lashes, stumbling over your words. "i jus-just missed y-you." you can see both relief and heartache in his face. baby, he hums. oh, thank god. i thought something happened to you. he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours as he holds your eyes. you have no idea how much i missed you.

euijoo: euijoo was already on his way to your place when he called. you were just about to take a shower, so you told him to just let himself in when he got there and that you wouldn't be long. your heart was racing even as the normally calming water coated your skin. you weren't sure why you were nervous—there's never a reason to be nervous with euijoo—but you were. when you step into your bedroom, still a bit humid from your shower, it clicks. euijoo is smiling that smile at you as he sits on the edge of your bed, arms held out for you to fall into. the nerves were just an indication of the intensity of your emotions. about euijoo. about seeing him again. your vision is already blurry with tears as you make your way to him. his hand catches yours when you're close enough, pulling you to stand between his legs, one hand on your waist and the other reaching up to take your face in his palm. y/n... angel. his voice is comforting and that only makes you cry more. you're not entirely sure, but you think you see his eyes glossing over too when you try to blink away the tears. he sits you on his thigh, a protective hand at your lower back to keep you steady. his other hand pulls the sleeve of his sweater down, gently using it to wipe your tears. i know. i missed you too. i'm here.

#i'm miserable after writing this send help #all team #k #fuma #nicho #ej #&team fluff #andteam fluff #&team angst #andteam angst

[bfiaflbox]

You're my person

Pairing: Matty x Reader Warnings: Mentions and description of panic attacks, apart from that it's just fluff Disclaimer: I know that panic attacks feel different for every person so this is heavily influenced by my own experience.

I'm a supportive girlfriend, I'm a supportive girlfriend is your mantra for this evening. You don't particularly like these "industry events" as Matty calls them but he said he'd like you to be there so you were being a supportive girlfriend. You were hoping for an open bar and a nice outfit to get you through the evening.

You're at Matty's side in a crowded room full of dressed up and important looking people while Matty is having yet another conversation that you can't contribute to, with a person you don't know. It is then that the pit in your stomach opens and you start to feel uneasy. It's the feeling of self-doubt and rage you know very well. You observe the feeling, try to figure out where it's coming from and you realize it's because right now you are nobody. Or rather just a body. You're arm candy and you know the people here see you like that.

Nobody here cares about you, of that you are sure. Suddenly you don't want to be here anymore. Your dress is too itchy, the room is too small, everything's too loud and your shoes feel weird on your feet. You try to take a deep breath to shake off the feeling of impending doom but it doesn't help. The pit in your stomach grows. You're frantically trying to think of an excuse to leave the room, leave the venue, run to the forest and die in a hole. Another deep breath doesn't help either.

Matty next to you is oblivious to the black hole in your stomach that threatens to eat you alive and is making easy conversation with an older man who definitely likes to hear himself talk. You can't take it anymore, you put your hand on Matty's shoulder and quickly say "Excuse me, I'll be back in a minute" and almost run for the exit to the restrooms.

You lock yourself in a stall and hold your stomach. You're fine, you're fine. You're safe, nothing's going to harm you. You keep repeating these words in your head but they don't seem to work. Too late you notice that locking yourself in a tiny room maybe wasn't the cleverest idea when faced with a panic attack but at least you're alone. Tears threaten to well in your eyes. Great, crying will help for sure. You put the lid of the toilet down and sit on it, burying your head in your hands. You try to focus on what you can physically feel instead of your emotions. Fuck, have I been in here too long? Who cares, back to feeling your toes. They feel trapped in your high heels. I feel trapped. No, back to physical sensations. I can feel my elbows pressing into my thighs and leaving red marks. I can feel my hands getting colder and colder. That doesn't feel good. A few deep breaths will help. You breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Breathing out feels good but as soon as you're done, the dread is back. So you do it again. And again. And again. "Darling, are you in here?" it's Matty. Fuck. You debate if there's a way to deny it but come to the conclusion there really isn't. "Uhm hmm" you choke out affirmative. "Are you alright? You've been gone for an awful long time" You can't tell him, it's going to ruin his night. "Uuuh. Yeah" good job, that didn't sound convincing at all. "Honey, I'm worried" and he sounds like it. Just as you're about to open the door to the stall you're hiding in, a woman walks in and starts to berate Matty about being in the women's restroom. "Honestly, I don't give a fuck, my girl's not well. Mind your business" You open the door and are faced with a Matty that's a mix of worried and annoyed. You take another deep breath. "Let's get some air, please?" you ask him and he just nods and mumbles a soft "Sure, baby" and leads the way out of the building.

Once you stand in front of the house he turns to you and bluntly asks "Panic Attack?" You just nod. "Do you want a hug or your space?" your heart melts at this. He's not judging or belittling you, he's taking you seriously. "Space, please" "Alright, hot or cold?" You look at him questioningly. "I know, sounds silly, but what would help right now? Hot or cold?" "Cold" "You've got it. Wait here a sec, ok?" He waits for you to look him in the eyes and nod, before he goes inside again, leaving you there. It's a bit chilly but you welcome the lower temperature right now. You still feel the pit in your stomach but it seems a tiny bit less threatening now that Matty's on your side. A few minutes later he reappears with both your jackets and a glass filled with ice cubes. "You got our jackets?" "Don't worry 'bout that, here." He hands you the glass filled with ice cubes. You take it but don't quite know what to do with it. When he notices that he motions to his sternum and says "put it on your chest". You don't know what that's supposed to do but you trust Matty. When you can feel the cold glass on your chest, you get it. For some reason it's very relaxing. After a little while, breathing feels like breathing again and less like fighting for your life. "You feel a little bit better?" You nod again. "Good, let's get you home" You open your mouth to protest but Matty just drily interjects "Don't even try. I know how bad panic attacks feel, I'm not going to make you go back in there." you just smile weakly and nod again. He takes your jacket and puts it over your shoulders, careful not to make you feel like he's invading your space. It's not entirely necessary because you've calmed down a great bit by now but the respect and the care warm your heart. "I ordered an Uber earlier, it should be here any minute. You ok with my place?" "Yes, thanks"

The car arrives and you get in the back after putting the glass down on the curb . Once the driver starts, you look at Matty with adoration. He's so lovely to you which you enjoy but somehow don't think you deserve. You ruined his evening after all. "'m sorry" you tell him. Suddenly you feel very shy. He just takes your hand and asks "Do you want me to talk?" "What do you mean?" "It can be soothing to hear someone's voice but it can also be too much when you're in a state of sensory overload" he explains. "Please talk, I like it", you smile.

"You're doing amazing by the way. I had my fair share of panic attacks in the past and the thing with the questions is sort of what I told the guys to do whenever I get panicky because the nature of the attack can vary and you might need different things. Like with the question 'hug or space", I found both can be very helpful but the wrong thing can make it worse..." he continues to talk but you kind of don't take in the information. You just enjoy the sound of his voice. You feel yourself coming down from the attack.

When you enter Matty's house, he takes your jacket and you proceed to sit down on the sofa. He brings you a glass of water and sits down with you. "You alright?" he asks timidly "Yeah, yeah, I feel much better. Sorry for ruining your night, though" "Don't even think about it, it's no big deal. But do you know what brought on the panic attack?" You think about not telling him for a second, not ruining the picture of the supportive girlfriend you had painted in your head. But you decide to let him in further. "For some reason I suddenly felt so useless and out of place. Like I was just a body with the sole purpose of looking a certain way, not a person. It triggered something deep down and I panicked" "I'm sorry" he looks genuinely sad. "Don't blame yourself, I know I still have a lot of work to do regarding my..." you point to your head with a rotating index finger. "No, it's true that I didn't make you feel included tonight. It's just... I don't know these industry events are kind of hard for me as well. I was just so glad you were there with me. You know, a room full of strangers is terrifying but with my people around, I can do it" "So I'm "your people"?" "Yeah, you're my person" he smiles.

#matty fic #matty healy #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #the1975fanfic #fluff and angst #fluff

[the-way-of-words]

You Can Have The Best Of Me

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Content warnings: oral sex, P in V sex, hair pulling, unprotected sex

Contains sexual situations with a fictionalized version of a real person. If rpf if your squick, feel free to hit the back button.

Follow up to If That's The Best That I Could Be, Then I Would Be Another Memory also fitting into @signs-of-ill-portent's 30 Days of Bad Omens prompt for Dive

My MasterList can be found here

She takes him to a dive bar the next time they see each other. They're in her city this time and as much as he tries to put on a relaxed air, he can feel his leg bouncing where it's perched on the stool he sits on. He missed her an unbelievable amount for some who's practically a stranger and he almost didn't call her when they finally made it to Denver. Thumb stuck above the thumbnail of the picture he took of the two of them that he set as her contact photo. The one he forgot about until three days after she left and his phone went off. No words, just the picture and a blue heart emoji underneath. 

Noah tried to start a call countless times, typed and deleted texts varying in degrees from "hey" to "I miss you". He probably would have kept going like that too, if Nick hadn't gotten fed up with his shit attitude; telling him to man the fuck up and call her or forget about her, just as long as he stopped being an asshole to everybody in a five-foot radius. 

The bar is a far cry from the bowling alley they met at, but it's nice. Dark corners with a few tall tables scattered about, a couple of pool tables, and a jukebox on the far back wall. Best of all is not once has anyone glanced in their direction with recognition in their eyes. 

"You know," her voice pulls him from his perusal of the bar around them, turning his face to hers, "I was starting to think I wasn't going to hear from you again."

Noah looks down, self conscious, "You almost didn't, if I'm honest." 

Her eyebrows knit together before one of them curls up inquisitively. "And what changed your mind?"

"My friend told me to man the fuck up and call you or forget about you…" he laughs, "So I figured I better call you. Forgetting you seems kind of impossible."

Even in the low light of the bar, he can see her blush a split second before she clears her throat. Reaching for the beer in front of her, she takes a couple swigs of the amber liquid before she stands. "Come on… let's see how well you do at pool."  

~~

You laugh as he, once again, tries and fails to hit one of his striped balls still on the green felt. Taking your shot, you sank the black eight, winning the game. Satisfaction fills your chest and you can't help but laugh at his face when he realizes he's lost for a third time. 

"Pleased with yourself?" He asks, stepping towards you, placing his hands on either side of the table behind you, effectively boxing you in. 

Your breath catches in your chest. This is the first time he's been so close since all those months ago in California and you can feel your body respond. Clearing your throat, you smirk up at him as you nod, aiming for calm when all you feel is the arousal gathering in your belly. It doesn't help that he seems to almost sense it, the air between you rapidly becoming charged. 

His gaze is dark, the brown of his eyes almost black when he asks, "You wanna get out of here?"

Against your better judgment, you bring him back to your place. The cab ride home is full of heady tension, the warmth of his hand burning through your jeans where it rests on your thigh. 

He's on you almost as soon as you enter your apartment, his big hands cupping your face and pulling your mouth to his the second you lock the deadbolt. Your hands fist in his hoodie, holding him close as he licks into your mouth. There’s an emotion pulling at your throat, desperate to break free, but you swallow it down, focusing instead on how his mouth feels against yours. How every swipe of his tongue against yours sends sparks to your core when you remember exactly how it felt when he licked into your folds. 

He lets you lead him to your bedroom, delicately stripping the clothing from your body as you travel down your short hallway. By the time he's lowering you to the bed, only your panties remain. His hoodie is gone when he kneels on the mattress. The of his white tank top stark against the ink on his body in the lamplight as he lowers himself to his stomach between your thighs. 

He takes you apart slowly. Mouthing at you over your panties before tugging at the waistband and pulling them off you. His fingers touch you insistently, spreading you for his gaze. You gasp when he sucks open-mouthed kisses into your inner thigh until his lips meet your center. Using his tongue to tease at your opening before sucking your clit into his mouth. 

Your hips buck against his face and he groans against you when you grip his hair tight, holding him close to you as he gives you what you need. Two fingers work their way into your cunt, a third following when you breathlessly ask for more. They move lazily, stroking your inner walls intently until you feel your climax break against you. He doesn’t object when your legs close around his face. If anything, he welcomes it, using his free hand to grip one of your legs closer, moaning as he laps up your release.

Noah moves willingly when you tug his head away from your sensitive folds with a whimper. His face twisted in a pleased smile as he moved up your body. You pull the tank top from where its tucked into his pants, hands wandering the expanse of his torso as he removes it. He ducks his head down, lips meeting yours in a wet kiss before standing, shucking his pants and underwear to the floor. You tug on his hand when he kneels back on the bed, pulling him onto you while you reach down to close your hand around his cock. His eyes close with a contented sigh, forehead falling to yours as you jerk him slowly and it doesn’t escape you when his hips start rolling to meet the movement. 

Soon enough his hand closes around yours, the other moving to your face, your eyes meeting just as he pushes into you. A sound somewhere between a sob and a moan bursting from your lips as your inner walls stretch around him. 

“God, I know… I know,” he says, soothing you with a soft voice. He sounds as wrecked as you feel. Something about the way he fills you permeates an emotion into the room you have no idea how to deal with.

You clutch his back, keeping him close as he rocks his hips back and forth, starting a slow, steady rhythm. It shouldn’t feel this good, having him close like this, moving in and out of you like this. Yet there's no one else you think you would want between your legs, breaking you undone with every thrust into you. 

“Can you cum again?” He pants, groaning when you clench around him. “I wanna feel you again. Please.” 

And you can. You know you can. You can feel it moving throughout you, the spark of pleasure, and when it makes its way to your core, you cry out, hitching your legs about his side. Your orgasm rolls through you and he grunts, hips stilling as you feel him pulse inside you, emptying his release into your wet heat. 

He rolls the two of you until he’s on his back with you perched on top of him, his arms hugging you close. His heartbeat sounds in your ear, the fast-paced thudding slowing to a calmer rhythm as you both catch your breath.

“How long do you have?” You ask quietly, as if speaking louder could shatter the moment. 

He sighs, arms tightening around you. “I have to be back by seven tomorrow morning.”  

You nod, reaching over to set your alarm before falling back into his chest, letting sleep take you under.

~~

Noah wakes to a head between his thighs, her quiet voice whispering, is this okay as her breath brushes against his cock. He gives his ascent, an audible gasp bursting from his lips when she takes him into her mouth. His hand weaves into her hair, fingers tightening when she hollows her cheeks, mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Just like last time, she doesn’t object when he rolls his hips, thrusting up into her mouth shallowly. 

“Can I?” He asks, and he feels her nod, her hand falling away from his shaft to brace against his thigh. His eyes close, trying to commit to memory the feeling of her mouth around him, how her hair feels between his fingers; the way her hands feel on his thighs. 

He can feel his orgasm nearing and Noah tugs on her hair, pulling her up to straddle him,  because if he’s going to cum, he wants to do it buried inside of her. Their mouths crash together just as she sinks down onto his shaft and she plants her hands on his chest. It’s desperate, hurried. He holds her hips in an iron grip as he helps her move and he hopes he leaves bruises, something to keep the memory of this alive as he moves to the next city. Her nails dig into his chest and he knows he’s going to cherish whatever is left behind until they fade away. 

She cums just as her alarm goes off. Her pussy spasming around him until he has no choice but to follow after her. When she slumps on to the mattress at his side, he turns to face her. Cupping her cheek and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, he takes in her face. Memorizing the shape of her lips, the slope of her nose. 

All too soon, he’s dressed and nursing a cup of coffee in her kitchen while he waits for his cab. Emotion pulls at his chest, crawling up his throat and clogging it. He tries to shake it, but it seems he won’t be able to open his mouth with the words tumbling out when she leans against the counter in front of him.

“I like you.” 

She smiles, huffing a little laugh. “I like you too.”

“No…” he starts, inwardly cursing himself. “I mean… I like you… as in I don’t want this to be all this is…” 

Noah closes his eyes, trying to stave off the embarrassment that’s starting to curdle in his stomach as the silence stretches between them. He feels like a fucking teenager again, asking his first crush if she wanted to go to a movie.

“I — I would like that too.” 

He leaves her apartment ten minutes later with a smile on his face, a promise to text her when they hit the interstate. Noah knows it won’t be easy, but there's something about the prospect of more than this, leaves him feeling optimistic.

#noah sebastian/ofc #rpf #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian smut

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Hi!

For the prompt requests...I'm thinking "I'm sorry, I had to" with Hound maybe 👀 or Cody as an alternative ❤️

hello roz my dear. thank you for this prompt!! I wanted desperately to write for Hound for this, but Cody came in and said "nope, this one's mine" so here we are. hope you enjoy!

First Kiss - Cody

Summary: You're injured. Cody can't risk losing you without telling you how he feels.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, fluff, confessions

Word Count: 1k

dividers by: me, @saradika, and @dystopicjumpsuit in that order &lt;3

As a starship technician, you don’t often travel to the frontlines. You support your boys in yellow from the Negotiator, repairing the clones’ gunships, the Jedis’ hyperdrive rings, and other engineering tasks that sometimes fall through the cracks. While you’d technically been combat trained when you enlisted with the GAR, that had been ages ago. You’ve never had a need to brush up on your skills. In effect, the GAR viewed you as a civilian engineer, not as a soldier, and so didn’t feel the need to press your training. 

Maybe they should have. 

Because while you don’t go to the frontlines, today the frontline has come to you. 

Explosions rock the Negotiator. Tremors rumble up through the durasteel floor into your body, already panicked as it is, as you pelt full-tilt down a side corridor. Your blaster is clutched in sweaty palms. You need to reach the hangar bay. You’ve been working on some modifications to the gunships to make them quieter, stealthier, more efficient—if that data is destroyed or, even worse, stolen, several months of your work goes down the drain. You may even be fired if the Separatists use the data against the clone army.

But in reality, that’s not what you’re worried about. No, you’re worried about Cody. You know him; he’s out there at the front right now, leading his men by example. It’s part of the reason you fell for him in the first place. He cares for his men—and in the end, that depth of emotion may be his downfall. Kark, you should have told him how you feel. 

You sprint past dozens of troopers running in the opposite direction. As you near the hangar, one of the men stops you, yanking you to a halt. 

“Hangar’s compromised!” he shouts over the blaring klaxon. “Come with us! Commander’s orders!” 

That gives you pause. Meeting the helmeted gaze of the trooper with wide eyes, you flounder for a moment. Another explosion shakes the ship. You stumble, the trooper’s grasp the only thing keeping you upright.

“Where’s the Commander?” you shout. 

His hesitation tells you all you need to know. Pulling yourself out of the trooper’s grip, you continue on your mad dash to the hangar, its state of damage be damned. Thankfully, none of the rest of the men stop you, and at last, you reach the hangar entrance. 

The entire space is engulfed in an inferno. Heat snarls at you as the door opens, before the metal screeches to a halt halfway, jammed. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you step over the threshold. 

You practically live in this hangar. You know exactly where your workstation is, how to get to it, where everything is within your toolbox. This is a space you could walk through in your sleep—yet as you squint against the sting of smoke and dodge flames that seem to leap at you, panic begins to build in your chest in earnest. Because Cody is somewhere in all this carnage, too. You can’t save both your work and your commander. 

You couldn’t live with yourself if you let him die. 

Your lungs scream for air. With a terrified whimper, you gulp in a deep lungful. Immediately you begin to cough, the smoke burning into your body. Turning in a circle, you attempt to squint through the smoke. The heat grows by the minute and becomes increasingly oppressive. Your knees feel weak. But still you stagger forward. Blind and lost, you cry with a cracked voice for Cody. 

You trip. Knees crack against the floor. Hacking, you peer through the smoke with watering eyes. Is that a person coming toward you? 

As your vision goes dark, the last thing you see is a pair of hands reaching for you and a familiar golden visor.

When you wake, you’re in the medbay. You can tell before you even open your eyes, just based on the sterile scent of antiseptic tickling your nose, and the hushed, rhythmic beeping of several medical devices. 

Eyes fluttering open, you squint against the bright white light reflecting off equally bright white walls. It hurts to breathe, but as you take silent stock of your body, nothing seems dangerously injured. No casts, no splints. Just a few bandages over what you assume are burns.

“Cyare,” a familiar voice says, full of relief. 

You turn and meet Cody’s eyes. He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, a long-dried bloody split in his lip, soot and ash coating his normally pristine armor. He sits next to you on a small stool, his elbows resting on his knees, one of his feet bouncing incessantly. But his worried expression melts into something calmer, softer as he takes in your conscious form.

He half-stands, brushing his fingers over your forehead gently, and then leans down. Though logically you know what’s about to happen it’s still a surprise when his lips meet yours in a soft, chaste kiss. You press your face up to his, meeting him, and you both hold there for a moment before he pulls away with a shuddering breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hand sliding down to grasp yours, “I had to. You scared me.” 

“M’sorry,” you mumble, mind hazy with his kiss. Your tongue is thick and dry. Nearby, one of the medical devices jumps in its rhythm, the beeps coming faster. 

He lowers back onto the stool. “What were you thinking?” 

Grimacing, you drop your gaze. “It’s stupid.” 

“Tell me,” he says, voice soft and kind. 

“I was thinking about you,” you admit in a whisper. 

His amber eyes widen in surprise. “Cyare.” 

“Told you it’s dumb.”

Shaking his head, he huffs an incredulous chuckle. He inhales deeply, runs a hand through his dirty hair, and fixes you with a look so fond that your heart squeezes.

“I love you, you know,” he says. 

The medical device goes crazy now, matching the way your heart stutters in your chest. “I- I love you, too.” 

The smile he gives you makes all the pain, all the panic, worth it. 

Liste de Ragu: @the-hexfiles @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @dreamie411 @bobaprint @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl if your name has a strikethrough, I can't tag you so check your settings! (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

#commander cody x reader #cody x reader #the clone wars #tcw cody x reader #rhiplies #rhiwrites #first kiss prompts

[tatasoom]

PREVIEW IS SHOWING THEIR FAVORITE EPISODE

I've just watched an interview where Jimmy and Sea told that episode 9 is their favorite. Well, then it's a perfect moment to analyse some hints for the episode. Let's go!

1. The mind-blowing symbolism in clothing!

We've seen Day and Mhok sleeping together twice. First time it was after tennis club party and drunk_but_curious Day was wearing this white t-shirt you can see in a scene from the preview! The second time was when Day stayed overnight at Mhok's house and maybe you can't remember, but now, when they're having another night together Day's wearing pants Mhok used to wear back then at home!

So we basically have Day being quintessence of their previous bed sharing moments and I love it so damn much.

2. Sightseeing and the book

We'll have another beautiful way of Last twilight making us all checking ticket prices to Thailand. (In my case it takes my monthly salary just to go to Thailand and come back without all that accommodation, local transport, souvenirs, etc. And what about you?)

I also have some questions for these book scenes. As we already know Day and Mhok (oh, sorry, Danainat and Methas all of a sudden haha) gave this book as a present to P'On and P'Pla, but here Mhok is reading it again. Also he's reading last pages.

Could it be that Day's father have the full version of the book? It would be interesting.

I remember when I was younger I've found a book illustrated with portraits by my father. Of course it's not a coincidence and my mother just took this book with many others from their once shared home library. But what impressed me the most is that I also used to draw portraits in my uni years and it turned really good (not my words). And I have never ever learned how to do it, but even my friend who's really into art and can draw anything complimented one of my work.

I'm curious what Day can have from his father he can't even remember.

3. Fading reality

It seems after having some sweet moments Day is going back to black to vision issues. This leads to him asking Mhok to go to the mountains and see that last twilight in reality. The whole series is already bittersweet and so is episode 9.

I also like this excited Sea👇

4. P'Aof and mountains

Everytime we talk about P'Aof coming back with another iconic mountain scene I remember Mix (who played Tian in a masterpiece named A tale of thousand stars) wearing a winter coat and crying behind the scenes, because they had a very emotional scene at night and it was cold in that mountains. Glad Mhok and Day have a plan to see twilight and not meteor shower haha

Not them being goofy lovey-dovey ahh~ ❤️

5. The night of love

Okay, let's be honest we're all waiting for this Friday not only because of our love for Thai nature🤭

Day will be playing the guitar, Mhok will be sitting there wearing Day's t-shirt...

And then they'll have a night...

... that will switch their t-shirts by the morning.

Thank you for reading! I planned to say just a few words about upcoming episode due to the lack of material. How it turned out that this is an analysis I spent three hours making of... Anyway, I already love episode 9 sososo much for all it's aesthetic. Let's enjoy our Songkhla trip with Day and Mhok, let's find out what's wrong with Day's father and let's give a round of applause to everyone involved in making Last twilight!

Just one day until new episode. Are you ready?

A) no

B) I think yes, but no

C) have mercy, P'Aof

#last twilight the series #last twilight #jimmy jitaraphol #sea tawinan #jimmysea #mhokday #morkday

[ieatsmallorphansnamedtom]

Headcanon of how well each of the bachelors would do if the farmer suddenly passed away of an illness (+ having left with kid/s a bonus)

(maybe even putting them in order who would handle it best to the worst)

Bachelor/ettes When the Farmer Passes Away (+ Leaving a Child)

Hi! Thank you for the request. I decided not to do them from handling it best to worst, because I couldn't really order it and it felt weird. My writing is a little rusty hehe.

TW: Death, grieving, spiritual crisis, self-blame

Bachelors:

Sam

Definitely the type to try and cover it up with smiles. Like everyone else, he breaks down the moment it happens (I'm not going to elaborate on how it happened for the sake of the viewer). Still, he tries to act all smiley and happy afterwards for the sake of the kid(s). But it never quite reaches his eyes, and everyone can tell he wouldn't recover that easily.

Elliott

Elliott throws himself into his writing like no tomorrow. He barely speaks to anyone except his kid at this point - not even Leah! He's putting all his time and energy into making sure his child can recover from this, not caring if he's ruining himself and actually getting further from it due to that in the process.

Sebastian

I don't know how to word this other than Sebastian's emo levels rise 1050%. He goes full on stereotypical, but he's not being ironic. He's straight up in desperate need of help but he refuses it, and the kid suffers as a result, which just makes him worse. Chances of his kid going to live with someone else are pretty high.

Harvey

Like Elliott, Harvey would throw himself into his work if that were to happen. He'd be completely focused on making sure nobody else has to go through that, no matter what happens to him in the process. He still talks to people, though. He wants to make it seem like he's got his life together so that hopefully it actually works out.

Shane

Oh boy. Oh, oh no. Oh Yoba not Shane. He's suffering. Absolutely gone off the deep end, very little hope (though there's always some hope). Yeah, he's going to spiral after this. The kid goes to live with Marnie or another relative because he just can't handle it. He either sells off the farm or goes to live back with Marnie because he's just destroying himself at this point. Not good.

Alex

Alex is also not doing well. At all. Though he's not at the level of Sebastian or Shane (as in he keeps the kid), that confident personality is gone. I mean, it's a front anyway, but still! He's so sad all the time and really seems to think there is no hope for him. He still puts up a front around his kid, though. But definitely cries himself to sleep.

Bachelorettes:

Penny

I don't even want to write this; Penny doesn't deserve this. She's devastated. Penny cannot handle what's going on and really just starts crying all the time. She can't even look at her kid because it reminds her of you and makes her cry even more. It's terrible to watch.

Leah

Leah's probably doing the best out of all of them. But that's not to say she isn't suffering. She paints to let out her emotions, and signs herself and her kid up for therapy. Her shitty ex Kel also comes back to haunt her, wanting to take advantage of her situation to get her back.

Abigail

Abigail gets a lot angrier. She's always in the mines swinging her sword at monsters and barely comes home. She's not even doing it for fun, just to take her anger out on something. And she's a lot snappier with people, too. She gets into fights with her friends and family and sometimes even her kid. Yeah, it really doesn't make her the best mother she could be otherwise.

Maru

Maru immediately signs herself up for therapy. She does all the things that should help - gardening to relax and remember, mediation, working on her passions - but nothing helps. It's even worse when she sees her kid slowly getting better because of them while she's not. She hides it all though under a thick layer of moderate sadness.

Emily

Emily has a spiritual crisis. She's always believed in soulmates, so why should hers be ripped away so soon. Why would Yoba do that to her? What in the world? Was she not worthy? Did she do something horribly wrong? Why would this happen to her of all people? What about her child? What will happen to them now that this has happened to her?

Haley

Haley has one of two paths she can choose. Path one; she reverts back to her Regina persona and becomes mean again. Or two; she becomes super quiet and actually pretty soft but very, very reserved because she's holding onto what she learned from the farmer - their lesson of kindness. Either way, though, she's super protective of her kid. Like a helicopter parent.

-~-~-

Remember that you can overcome anything! You are loved, and you deserve love. Keep that message in your heart.

#ieatsmallorphansnamedtom #death tw #grief tw #guilt tw #religion tw #sdv #stardew valley #sdv headcanons #sdv hcs #stadrew valley headcanons #stardew valley hcs #sdv sam #sdv elliott #sdv sebastian #sdv harvey #sdv maru #sdv penny #sdv leah #sdv abigail #sdv shane #sdv emily #sdv alex #sdv haley #stardew valley sam #stardew valley penny #stardew valley elliott #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley shane #stardew valley alex

[unseededtoast]

I’ve Got My Eye On You | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

(Full oneshot posted here. Link to my masterlist here)

- -

A part of Spencer Reid died the day he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankle. You noticed it like day turned to night. After he had been rescued, there was a hollowness in his eyes you had never seen before. The rest of the team seemed quick to move on and it's like they almost disregarded the horrors and trauma Spencer endured.

But you were not as quick to forget, nor did you brush it under the rug. You had taken note of the needle tracks left in his arms when he was rescued, and you were keenly aware that narcotics addiction is one hell of a beast to slay. And so you took it upon yourself to keep an eye on him; you were not about to lose one of your closest friends, and it became obvious that nobody else was going to be there to support him.

"Spencer I know what Tobias did to you, and I want you to know that I'm here for you. You're one of my closest friends and I don't want you to feel like you have to handle this on your own. It's not your fault, and what he did to you was wrong, please don't blame yourself. And please let me help you, I know you'd do the same for me. I can't lose you to this, you mean too much to me and you deserve to be free of this torment." Your throat constricts with emotion and you can't help the single tear that rolls down your cheek.

His hands shake as they grab onto yours, enveloping them completely. You know the tremors aren't from nerves, and it causes you to cry harder. All you want is for him to be free of this addiction.

- -

Perhaps you should’ve cherished your time with him more. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken for granted your movie nights, shared dinners, or days spent underneath the same blankets. You certainly should’ve been more appreciative for his friendship. And now that all of that is gone you feel lost.

You had actually fallen in love with your best friend. And now you’re destined to watch him love other women.

You only wish it could be you.

#spencer reid x you #Spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg