#and the thought that one of them thinks i hate him genuinely distresses me so much ive been crying for the past half hour | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scuderiahoney · 1 month

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a hockey au social media au / mini blurb

notes: this is my very first social media au! thank you so much to @theemporium for making the notification lockscreen for me, and @lightsoutletsgo for smau inspiration, tips, and encouragement! bunnyrabb1t is y/n’s instagram! think that’s all!

bunnyrabb1t

liked by maxverstappen33, oscarpiastri and 56 others

bunnyrabb1t fall semester: ✔️

landonorris why

landonorris I look like a 5 year old on the first day of school

bunnyrabb1t the smartest 5 year old!!!

maxverstappen33 we are so proud of you son

landonorris I hate it here

charles_leclerc officially on bunny’s instagrammmm ✔️

carlossainz55 … where?

charles_leclerc on the ice!

carlossainz55 not sure that counts cabron

lilymhe the collage!! new project?

bunnyrabb1t maybeeeee

oscarpiastri great semester!

oscarpiastri cool pics!

oscarpiastri & a great grade in physics to top it off!

bunnyrabb1t look at us go!

landonorris

liked by bunnyrabb1t, maxverstappen33 and 221 others

landonorris mood

maxverstappen33 mood

charles_leclerc mood

carlossainz55 mood

alex_albon moon

georgerussell63 *mood

alex_albon fuck off

bunnyrabb1t mood???

landonorris why so unsure?

oscarpiastri she doesn’t play hockey, she will never understand

bunnyrabb1t i hate it here

The second he sees the notification that the grade has been posted, he texts you. He types and deletes and retypes the message at least a billion times. When he finally sends it, his heart is pounding harshly in his chest. He stares at the screen of his phone until his eyes burn. When it starts to buzz in his hand, he nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Hi,” he answers, hoping he sounds normal.

“Hey, Osc- is everything okay?” You ask, voice full of concern.

“Yeah, no, everything is fine,” he says, clearing his throat. “Sorry to bug you. I just saw that they posted the final grades for physics.”

You make a noise of distress, and he smiles softly at the sound. “Oh, god.”

“Thought we could check together?” He suggests, cringing at the way he says it and the idea itself. “I don’t know, I just thought maybe-“

“That would be really nice, actually,” you say, letting out a slow breath. “Let me go find my laptop, hold on.”

He waits on the line. He can hear you shuffling around in what’s probably your parent’s house. He wonders if you have a dog, or any pets. He’s never asked. He thinks of his family dog at home, who is staying with the dog sitter while his family visits him in the US this year, and something about that makes his chest hurt.

“Okay, I’ve got it, opening it now,” you say. “How’s your break been?”

He turns back to his own laptop on the desk. “It’s been good. Quiet, right now, because everyone’s at the hotel, but it’s been nice to have them here.”

“That’s awesome,” you say, sounding genuinely excited for him. “Got fun plans the next few days?”

“My mum makes the plans,” he replies, scrolling the wheel on his mouse absentmindedly. “I just roll with them.”

You laugh, and then he hears you sigh. “Okay. I’m logged in.”

“Ready?” He asks, quietly.

“No,” you sigh. “I don’t want to retake physics, Oscar.”

“You won’t have to,” he says, his cursor hovering over the View Final Grade button. “I know it.”

“Okay, okay, let’s just get it over with,” you say.

He wonders what you look like right now. He almost wishes he’d asked for a video call, because he finds that suddenly he misses seeing your face terribly. If he knows you well enough, you’re probably criss cross applesauce on the bed, lower lip pinched between your teeth, brows furrowed.

“Alright. Three, two, one…” he says.

He clicks the button. The screen lights up brighter, and he blinks. He’s got an A, no plus or minus, but it’s good enough. He’s happy about it. Then he hears you let out a long, slow breath, and his stomach sinks.

“What’s the verdict?” He asks, quietly.

You’re quiet for a few moments, and then you say, “B plus. Holy shit! I mean, I know it’s not an A but- I really thought I was going to fail-“

Oscar lets out a breath, then. “Fuck yeah! B plus is great!”

“A B plus means I don’t have to retake physics,” you say, and Oscar laughs.

“I knew you’d be fine,” he says, heading over to sit on his bed.

“Yeah, yeah, you told me so.” You say. “Couldn’t have done it without you, y’know.”

He flops onto his back on the bed, feeling his cheeks go red. Maybe it is for the best that it’s not a video call. “Yeah, you could’ve,” he says. “But it was nice to have a study buddy.”

You laugh at that. He thinks he can almost hear you rolling your eyes. He feels the silence stretch on for a few seconds- it’s comfortable silence, but the reason he called is over now. He doesn’t want to hang up. He wants to keep talking.

“Got any fun plans?” He asks, and when you launch into your answer, he smiles.

The conversation goes on for nearly an hour, by the time it’s all said and done. He stares at his ceiling and listens to your voice, chiming in when he’s needed or when he has something to add. But mostly, it’s nice to just listen. He’s missed hearing what you’re up to.

When you hang up, it’s with a promise to talk soon. The beep of the call ending makes his heart feel just a little heavy. He falls asleep with his phone still in his hand, and hopes he wakes up to a notification from you.

bunnyrabb1t added to their story

landonorris replied to your story: safe flight!

bunnyrabb1t thanks lan!

maxverstappen33 replied to your story: just remember the plane is in pudding!

bunnyrabb1t jello, max. but thanks. see you soon!

oscarpiastri replied to your story: safe travels! headed back to campus?

bunnyrabb1t yes!

bunnyrabb1t if you’re free we should hang out tomorrow?

oscarpiastri I am so free and so bored

bunnyrabb1t good news i’m great at curing boredom

maxverstappen33 added to their story

landonorris replied to your story: reppin the team even on break that’s our girl!

maxverstappen33 she said “ew stop” 🤢

landonorris yeah. that tracks

oscarpiastri replied to your story: Can you guys hurry back with the snacks?

maxverstappen 🙄

bunnyrabb1t added to their story

oscarpiastri liked your story

alex_albon replied to your story: can I have my girlfriend back?

bunnyrabb1t hold on let me ask

bunnyrabb1t she says my cooking’s better. soz albono

alex_albon :(

maxverstappen33 replied to your story: no invite?? 😔

bunnyrabb1t max in what world is this something you want to be invited to

maxverstappen33 I made so many collages with you while you were injured 😔

bunnyrabb1t this is a vision board not a collage

maxverstappen33 they look similar to me 😔

bunnyrabb1t they’re different. but we can make one the next time i come over

maxverstappen33 😌

find part 4 here!

main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat t @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @avg-golden-retriever @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

Note

I love your writing!! Could you do a short 1 or 2 part fiction based on this prompt: a highborn girl is to become Aemond's wife but she is a mute. Her other senses are well even though she isn't able to speak. She is youngest in her family and is extremely shy. No fiery bone in her body. Alicent coaxes her son into being betrothed to her due to Alicent having issues with high-born ladies not wanting to marry the prince due to his eye missing and his tendency to have a temper. They bond over reading and Aemond is enthralled with her beauty. Also Aemond never is a kinslayer in this story lol. Thank you!

Her Voice

Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction | Mini-Series Masterlist

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

A/N: I changed the request up a little and it's strange that I got this ask because I do actually have a stutter myself that was debilitating growing up, so I tried to shoehorn some feelings that I felt myself into this character, but hopefully I still did it justice (and I made it more about her intelligence cos I think Aemond would find that hot)?

Thank you for the request anon! Also thank you all for your love and comments I really love them! I can’t comment on them since this is a side-blog, but I appreciate you all!

Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon

"Do you think that any highborn woman with a brain between her eyes would desire to spend the rest of her life with a tempestuous prince?"

Alicent was circling the room, hands smoothing over one another to keep herself calm, doing this in exchange of picking at her fingernails, which her father hated. And with Otto sat brooding in the corner of the room, Alicent chose her actions wisely.

Aemond barely resisted the urge to roll his eye, one hand rested on one side of his face, disinterested. Another reprimand for his temper, his behaviour. He didn't realise his mother had it in her to keep on doing this for so long, especially after having a son like Aegon. But even then, her solution had been to marry him to his sister, and it was clear how well that ended. And how Aegon's actions persisted.

"Perhaps if they were not so empty-headed they would know to leave me be"

"Like it or not, you will be wed" Otto butted in, resulting in Aemond sending an annoyed glare, "It has been difficult enough to introduce ladies to you"

"Because they think me a monster" Aemond retorted, one hand gripping the arm of the chair beside him. His mother was still pacing around, a million thoughts banging around in her brain, working endlessly on how to resolve this. In truth, he did not enjoy seeing his mother in such distress and his heart to see her in this way more often than not.

"That is not true, Aemond" Alicent's voice was soft, as if he were still a child.

"True enough that it whispers through the court"

"A marriage and children with her would mean security in the Reach" Otto said simply. His mind forever focussed on matters political and never of the heart. Alicent was proof of this and at this quip, Aemond could see the discomfort it bought her.

"I do not wish to marry that loud-mouthed half-wit"

Every time Aemond protested, he could see his mother begin pacing around the room once more.

"At this rate, half the ladies in Westeros will have met that beast before you"

Aemond extended a hand out with a sigh, "It is no fault of mine that she is scared of Vhagar"

"It nearly landed on top of her, Aemond!" Alicent begged out and Aemond genuinely had to hold back a smile as he imagined Vhagar pinning the girls dress to the ground with her large claw. It had scared the girl stiff and her loud-mouthed was quickly stiffened from the presence of the largest dragon in the world before her. Her face pale as a sheet.

"Vhagar did not like her" he simply responded.

A moment passed in silence and Aemond nearly stood to leave when Alicent crossed her arms, her warm, brown eyes trained at her second son. Half in pride and half in scolding.

"There is of course, another choice" Alicent suggested quietly, taking a side glance at her father.

Now stood before his mother, seeing over her easily, he placed his arms behind his back, a brow was arched in not only question but anxiety at her suggestion.

"She has a younger sister, only half a year younger than you"

Aemond scoffed, "This is desperation"

"It is a suggestion" Alicent corrected. In front of her son, she seemed so small as she took his large hand in both of hers, her rings clicking together to rub her fingers over his skin, "See how you feel"

With a sigh, he took his leave.

There was no harm in trying.

The days seemed to pass the slowest and the Prince busied himself as he usually did, performing his duties. He trained with Ser Criston, he read books on various subjects and he rode on Vhagar in an attempt to tame this temper his mother so wanted gone. One that she thought would be solved by marriage.

But one insufferable thing he could never escape from, was court gossip.

It seemed so rampant and neverending that he wondered if the ladies ever did anything else.

On more than one occasion he heard the ladies talk in hushed whispers when he walked by.

"I heard his dragon almost ate her"

"I do not see what woman would want a man who looks like that"

"I think he looks rather handsome with it"

"Yes, but he has a quarrelsome temper. Blood of the dragon indeed"

"I heard her little sister is to join the court. His dragon may actually swallow her whole with any luck"

"She is a hollow little fool. I heard she has not spoken a word since she was a babe"

He knew better than to listen to any of it. But it seemed to impregnate the walls of the Keep, like a smell that won't go away. Slowly seeping out of the stone to skulk in heavy plunders of smoke across their feet. It smelled of deception and the feeling was so heavy, it was almost liquid.

Like oily blood.

He had barely paid attention to his mother as they all lined up outside the Keep, anticipating the sister's arrival. The older sister had been closest to the dirt road, wanting to see her siblings and father before anyone else. The Royals were all standing shoulder to shoulder at the top of the stone steps, Aemond's eye trained forwards, not focussed on anything in particular. Aegon wishing he were somewhere else, preferably at the end of a barrel of Dornish wine. And Helaena, whose gaze never found anyone's, staring at the ground, watching the ants disappear beneath her slipper.

Alicent almost jumped out of her skin as the lady screamed in delight seeing the familiar colours of her house on the side of the carriage, pulling up to a stop. Aemond's chest inflated and he tightened his grip behind his back, bracing for the undoubtedly emotionally painful exchange he was about to have.

The carriage door flung open and two brothers emerged, clearly a lot older than the sister had been, but nonetheless they scooped her up into a hug. Aemond raised an eyebrow and dared look over at his own brother, who was smiling back at him already, as if suggesting they should hug like that. And at this Aemond did roll his eye.

The three siblings were stuck like this for a moment, talking over and amongst each other like a clutter of turkeys and it was impossible to tell what they were actually saying. The father eventually found his footing outside the carriage, a small figure following small behind him, head lowered. The older sister wrapped her arms around her father's neck but she was quickly pushed away, and not a single one of them seemed to address the youngest, who blindly followed her father.

"Queen Alicent" the father addressed, taking her hand in his to kiss at the ring.

"My Lord, how nice it is to see you and your…family again" she swallowed her words and her roundabout manner made Aegon smile somewhat.

"And you, your Grace. I hope my daughter has been a grateful guest"

There was a faint echo in the background of her horrific laugh, the father closed his eyes slowly, bracing himself for the sound of it.

Alicent merely smiled, "I understand we are to receive your other daughter"

The father stepped aside, but the figure still remained relatively hidden, "Yes, although she is the slowest of my daughters, your Grace. She…finds it difficult to speak"

The father looked behind him again and gripped his other daughter's arm and Aemond noted how hard he held her, so much so that when he tore away the marks remained. And he wondered if he was so rough with his other daughter, the one he thought was the grace of his house.

The girl was presented before Alicent. Yes she shared features with her sister, but hers were much were smoothed out. Her sister, while sharp featured and cheeks plump, her eyes were too close together and her nose seemed unfit for her face. This sister however, her cheekbones were higher and eyes were almond-shaped and she had a faint mole next to her eye on one side.

Her eyes briefly met Alicent's and sent a small smile and a curtsy, doing the same to the Princes and Princess, but never really meeting any of their gazes directly.

"Your Grace, my youngest"

Aemond almost scoffed, he didn't even have the decency to address her by her birth name.

"As I say, your Grace, she is quite slow but her mind is nimble, her other senses remain…unaffected"

All the young woman could do was listen to her father's cruel words about her, her hands were clasped in front of her, one finger fiddling with a golden ring that was on a forefinger. Aemond's gaze raked over her form, the dress she wore just being a bit too tight and he wondered if it might have been in her ownership for a while and had grown too big for it. This made her chest swell against the fabric and her could not help but admire the way she fit into it as she inhaled and exhaled, the golden necklace against her chest moving as well.

It was as if she could feel his burning eye on her and her hand raised to her necklace to turn the pendant over, her gaze briefly meeting the one-eyed Prince's before her cheeks became flushed and averted instantly. In a strange turn of events, it made Aemond smirk, knowing that someone would blush in his presence.

"If you'd like to follow me, I can introduce you to the King" Alicent stepped side to side with her father, "Perhaps your children might amuse themselves"

Her father turned to face his children, a haggard expression on his face, "Make yourselves scarce"

The young woman merely watched as her siblings waltzed away without her, no doubt to drown themselves in drink. And she stood for a moment watching them enjoy themselves before feeling a hand grasp her elbow to find Aegon's face close to hers. She made a surprised sound.

"Extraordinary" he murmured, pulling the poor thing to walk with him, "How much I would give to have a woman who did not speak back"

She attempts to push herself away, but he was much stronger.

"I bet that mouth is as disgusting as those whores on the Street of Silk"

A hand clamped at Aegon's shoulder, shoving him away and the woman looked back to find Aemond parting the two with his body, a hand brushing against her arm to place her behind him.

"Brother, I do not think she desires your company"

With a focussed eye zoned in on his brother, Aemond failed to notice that she had himself wrapped his hand around her wrist. A wave of heat rose to her face s she looked down and saw how his large fingers easily took her, feeling the sheer body heat of the Prince next to her, so much so that she was able to smell the various musks that had attached themselves to him. A faint smell of leather from his clothes, whatever he used for his long, illustrious hair and then something akin to being around an animal. Was this what dragon smelled like? She wondered if he had been riding before meeting her family.

His touch was easily softer than Aegon's grip had been, and for this she was grateful. He had been the first man to lay a hand on her that had not been forceful. The brothers continued to bicker.

"She is not deaf, Aegon. She can hear you"

"Deaf or not, she is a simpleton. If you are to marry her, do yourself a favour and find comfort in others, as I do"

All the blood seemed to rush to your ears in embarrassment and you tore your wrist away from the prince, turning swiftly on your heel in the other direction, away from the harsh words you had unfortunately become accustomed to. Your steps were swift as you heard Aegon cackle with laughter, but you did not see Aemond's saddened stare bore into your back.

With a book clutched longingly to your chest and the echoes of your already drunken siblings echoing down the halls, you pushed a hand to the library door, finding comfort in the quiet of this room in the chaos that was the Red Keep.

It had of course, not been your first time here. You had accompanied your sister on her journey many moons ago, and even then you felt the stares of those at the court boring into you like a flame. The hushed whispers of those were not lost on you, perhaps they also thought you were deaf. But it didn’t matter. You heard the horrible things the ladies said about you and equally, the awful things the men said as well. Although some of those had been about other matters.

Contrary to popular belief, you were not entirely mute. A lot of it was purely by choice. And you had become accustomed to the silence, for simply trying to speak, becoming out of breath and tight about the chest, gave you more anxiety than simply saying nothing at all.

You sighed in relief, finding the library completely empty and almost just how you had left it all those months ago, when you had come here for relief after your sister had accustomed herself to the ladies.

The book, which you had been in the middle of reading last time you were here, was still perched on top of the fireplace in the heart of the room, with a piece of paper sticking out in the spot where you had been rudely torn away. Your hand grazed over the cover, feeling all the intricacies of the people who may have read it before you. The spine was slightly worn away, and the fabric that coated the front page was discoloured. But it was the book smell that enticed you so and you opened where you were to bring to the pages to your face.

It smelled like home. Like a solitary childhood.

It reminded you of who you were.

Someone so disenchanted with life that they would lose themselves in books, fiction or not.

You lifted your skirts, inhaling sharply as the corseted part of the gown dug into you for being too small. Your father refused the request for new dresses, so you had to make do. After all, it was your older sister who was supposed to be enamouring the Prince, not you. So what need was there for fine dresses.

The chair hugged you, its fabric arms tucking you in like a bed and you laid the book before you to pick up where you had left off, the only sound in the room being the flickering of some candles and the uncomfortable sound of your finger tracing the next page.

You had been so interested in your book, the large oak doors opened without a reaction from you.

"I know you are not deaf, my Lady"

The voice startled you, and your head popped round the back of the chair to see the Prince standing closely, smirking and arms tucked behind him. A surprised sound left you as you stood, the book that had been placed on your lap hurtling to the floor as well as a small notebook you had been clutching. Your cursed yourself for the clumsiness but offered him a curtsy all the same before bending to retrieve the books.

He seemed to move too quickly for his stature and had his hand flat on the book before you had even reached out. Turning it over he smiled, bringing the book with him stand,

"Ah, so it was you"

You grasped the small notebook in your hand and stood to meet his gaze, eyes slightly wide with fear. As if he had caught you in his grasp.

He let out a small laugh, which seemed uncharacteristic for him, "Do not worry. I merely found it"

He placed the book down on the table and looked back at her. Even though he had one eye, it seemed to rake over her for an eternity before returning to her face.

"Are you afraid, my Lady?" he asked, still smirking.

Realising that she had been gawking, gripping onto her notebook, she shook her head. He seemed satisfied with the answer, only offering a 'Hm' in response as he began pacing the space around her.

"I may have limited vision, but I can see you are not afraid of me"

His back was facing you now, and with his eye not trained on you, you took the opportunity to study him and his form for a moment.

He was tall and his long silver hair trailed over his back, thick and straight. He certainly had that air of intimidation behind him and seemed to dress as such to scare people. In thick black leather with clasps, he almost looked imprisoned in his own clothes, straining against them. All this study of his form made you look down at yourself, wondering what he thought of you. The small woman without a voice, dressed in the clothes she was made several years ago.

"Your sister says I have a temper" he started, turning slowly to meet your gaze. He studied the way the candles flickered washes of amber and yellowish hues onto the side of your face, bringing the flush of your face out even more. How the flames bounced off the colour of your eyes. He wondered; how could someone be so expressive with simply their gaze.

He could not explain it, but you seemed content in the silence between you.

Slowly, as if movement would trigger the man, you opened the small notebook you carried with you, using the strip of charcoal to scribble something down. Aemond smirked seeing how concentrated you looked staring at the pages, how the line in between your eyebrows popped out slightly as you wrote.

You passed him the notebook, pointing at the page. He handled the book with such care that is astonished you, the way his fingers grasped it, there was a sensitivity to it. You swallowed your breath as his eye ran over the page all too slowly.

I do not know you well, but I have seen no temper.

Without moving an inch, his eye met you again and for a moment you worried you had said something wrong. But he softly handed the notebook back to you, watching your every move.

"Is this how you communicate?" he asked genuinely.

You nodded, as if embarrassed. Thinking of something to write down, you quickly flipped to a new page.

He accepted the notebook again once you had done, looking significantly more nervous this time, the charcoal rubbing black on your fingers.

I hope that the suggestion of our marriage does not embarrass you. If it is to be, I will be an amenable wife.

Aemond read the words on the page a few times, each time saddening him more so than the last. He saw how you fumbled with the charcoal, eyes averted, afraid of his reaction. He sighed so quietly that you did not hear it and only looked up once again when he handed the notebook back to you.

The words seemed to sincere, it bought a pain to his heart to see you think such things.

"Do not reduce yourself to such a thing" he said. But you did not look up.

There was a pregnant pause between you both as he regarded you.

"You are not entirely mute, are you"

You shook your head at his question, he winced at the painful look on your face. Immediately scribbling something down, faster this time.

It is sometimes better not to say anything at all.

Aemond nodded at this, "It is good advice, perhaps it can be bestowed on some within the court"

At this genuinely unexpected quip, you looked up at him letting a laugh escape you, hand immediately coming to your face to hide the smile that bubbled there.

It surprised you how quickly his eyes lit up upon hearing your voice. You could not help but look at him as he smiled before you, your cheeks firing up with embarrassment and you cleared your throat almost immediately, trying to dispel the air.

"You have a lovely voice" he said. It was here that you realised you were still smiling, eyes on his face, trying to find any signs of deception. For a second, you opened your mouth, tempted to say something. But the confidence quickly died as a block constricted your throat and the breath was expelled, but you nodded anyway, in thanks.

Do you read?

He nodded, gesturing to the book you had been reading, now reserved to the side table, all but forgotten.

"I do. I come here often" he said quietly, pacing about again.

You could no longer hide the way you looked at him. Your sister had said he was quick to rise and that she had been scared stiff at the interactions with him, that he had given her no notion of acceptance or equality. She spoke like he thought he was above everyone else.

But this was not the person you saw before you. Before you was some so soft spoken, you could barely hear him most of the time. Someone who enjoyed the serenity of a quiet library with the only sound being the flickering of the candles and the rain hitting the stone walls outside. You envisioned him being the only one to people-watch at parties, not amusing himself with the prospect of dancing. And perhaps not entertaining the thought of speaking to a woman directly.

"I come here when people like your sister remark on my tempestuous nature. Solitude is the only remedy for it" he paused looking over at you, "I imagine it is the same for you"

You scribbled something down, meeting his gaze when you handed it over.

Perhaps it is just that we are misunderstood. Solitude offers comfort.

A smile tugged at his lips once more and he thought that this is the most he had smiled in a long time.

"And books, it seems"

You nod genuinely, your eyes lighting up with an idea. Placing the notebook to one side, you rush past the Prince, giving him an opportune moment to feel the fabric of your skirts pass his thigh and the whips of your hair drag across the leather of his arm, releasing their scent. And with his eyes closed, he relished in these perfumes.

He allowed himself to think about what it would be like to live in that scent. To have it around him.

You placed a book in his hand, looking up at him excitedly. His long fingers grazed over the cover, admiring the gold leaf applied to it.

"Is this your favourite?" he asked, noting how close you remained after placing the book in his hand, though this you had not realised yet. You nodded, smiling as he opened the cover page to inspect the contents. A book he had not read.

He squinted at the pages, confused and looked back at you, barely needing to move his head since he was so tall.

"You can read this?" he asked. Ever humble, you shrugged your shoulders, "This is Valyrian" he sounded almost as if he did not believe you.

But you had read enough books for a lifetime already and you intended to prove to the Prince that what you were implying was truth.

Taking a deep breath, you lean forward and point to a word in Valyrian, inspecting the swirling text upside down. It had been a page right in the middle, telling the history of Aegon the Conqueror's mission to the Riverlands.

"…i-istan…hae…" you took another breath, not meeting the Prince's eye, nervous that if you did all confidence would surely die, "…darys…"

"…dārys" Aemond softly corrected. You could not help but look up at him now, the eye that had been filled with mischief and confidence, now had something else there. You licked your lips and motioned for him to repeat what he has said so you might copy, "dārys…"

"…dārys…h-he….he…" you struggled on the 'h' sounds of the next words, so paused to gather your breath and push past the newly developing blocks. But the Prince waited patiently, more enamoured at the fact that you were attempting to speak before him and that this was possibly the most you had said to anyone in months, perhaps years.

The mere sound of your own voice surprised you, but concentrated on finishing the sentence, you licked your lips once again in concentration. Aemond almost laughed as the line between your eyebrows returned, "…hen ry…vest, vesteros…o-o…" you sighed at yourself, frustrated. The words beginning with vowels were always the hardest.

"…ondoso…" you managed, pushing past the breath quickly and it was the loudest word you spoke in the whole sentence. It felt clumsy and wrong, but if you had looked ahead, you would have seen the hooded look of Aemond looking down at you, mouthing along with you in silent appreciation.

"…rhaenys…" you finished, looking up at the prince. He closed the book and repeated the word back at you but with the trilled 'r' that was difficult for many to pronounce. You smiled, fiddling with your hair, only now realising how close you were to him so you were able to read the book.

You stepped back, suddenly feeling embarrassed and hot. As if you'd been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

"Very good" he said. The smile on your face was difficult to keep at bay and he placed the book to one side, "It is not an easy language to learn. From books?" he asked, to which you nodded.

You were grateful he did not mention anything about your slowness, about the stumbling over the words. He simply complimented your ability to even read and speak any Valyrian and that was all you wanted from him.

You scribbled down.

Perhaps you could teach me how to pronounce it properly.

"I would enjoy that, my Lady" he stepped forward to give you the notebook back, only to keep a hold on it when you tried to take it. His other hand laid on top of hers and all of a sudden, it all felt so real.

You could feel his fingers rub over yours with a strangely soft touch and all the heat rose to your face again.

"It is a brave thing, to show yourself to someone" he said, looking down at you, "Someday, I hope to do the same for you" he said quietly.

You flicked from one of his eyes to his eyepatch, knowing that this was the source of his own pain. All the things the ladies and your sister had said about this man. Saying he was monstrous, tempestuous and someone to fear. It was clear that these people just did not know him.

"Being with you is like being alone" he said quietly, almost to say it to himself.

Your other hand came to his arm, hand smoothing over the soft leather, reaching out to touch him to see if he was real. Your smaller hands barely came around his arm but you squeezed it, offering whatever comfort you could.

At his words, you nodded in agreement, and he could see the sincerity in your eyes. Perhaps he merely wanted to be understood, like everyone would like, but something that people like yourselves was difficult to find.

Dropping the notebook, the charcoal fell to the ground and snapped in two and before Aemond could open his mouth to question, you laid your head against his chest, hearing and feeling his heartbeat through the thick leathers.

He stood stock still for a moment, hands suspended in the warm air around you until he carefully laid them on your shoulders, pulling the hair over your shoulder. And for a moment he could not tell if he was greatly confused, shocked, horrified or comforted by the feeling.

A shudder rattled down your back as you felt his chin rest on top of your head.

"Kirimvose" he whispered, making a burst of air leave you with a laugh. It sounded mildly forced, and it warmed your chest in a way that bloomed across your whole body, knowing now that despite his discomfort, he had said it.

Thank you.

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priniya · 6 months

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🌊 ASSUMPTIONS

SYNOPSIS. jj maybank gets a little too involved with a kook for his friends’ liking, but he wouldn’t be jj maybank if he gave a shit. on contrary, you do and it bothers him.

NOTES. jj maybank x kook!reader. a little short + not proofread

you definitely underestimated how much things people assume on a daily basis. it had never bothered you before you got with a certain blond pogue — maybe, because beside your small friendship with sarah cameron (and an occasional hook up with her older brother), no one really cared. then you started hanging out with jj maybank and nothing was truly the same.

some people shamelessly assumed that your sweet relationship was strictly of convenience. maybank was with you for the money, giving you weed and fulfill your sexual needs whenever you wanted. some would say that you knew how rafe… wasn’t exactly a fan of pogues, so you hung out with jj to get back at the oldest cameron sibling.

on the other hand, hardly anyone reckoned that due to all that time you were caught spending together made you genuinely like him. no, you always had to have some kind of cruel reasoning for skipping school to smoke weed in the back of twinkie (and make out).

did it bother you? unfortunately, a little bit too much. your boyfriend just got into your room by the halfway open balcony door while you were scribbling down math homework on your ipad. your coursework was one of the small amount of activities that let you rest your brain and get busy with something so insignificant to your relationship.

jj knew you were subconsciously upset. he didn’t really have to ask — the uneasiness painted all over your gorgeous face. his long, distressed sigh got you out of trance. your eyebrows scrunched at the sight in front of you. how did he get there?

“tell me what’s in that pretty head of yours.” he muttered, face inches away from yours after having kissed you — too shortly for your liking.

“my brain.” you let out, hands going to the collar of his t-shirt, unsuccessfully trying to pull him into another of those sweet, mindblowing kisses. “jay.” a groan slipped from your lips as he refused once again and you felt like going insane, one night he says he can’t stop himself from kissing you and now he does? liar.

“let me rephrase the question, you brat.” his eyes rolled. “what’s bothering you so much that you can’t tell me?” his fingers brushed through your hair as you sat yourself in his lap.

“kiss me and i’ll tell you.”

“tell me and i’ll kiss you.” another groan left your mouth, earning a quiet chuckle from him. he was worried, but sending you over the edge was funny, hilarious even.

ten minutes. that’s how long the two of you sat in silence until you were ready to reveal the reason of your upset, thoughts organised and your forehead against his shoulder, while his fingers were tracing different patterns on your back, sending a shiver down your spine once in a while.

“i just— shit, it’s so stupid.” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “i hate that people think you want something particular from me or the other way around.” it’s there and jj couldn’t help but chuckle at your explanation.

not because he thought little of your worried, but because it was almost unlike you to be so bothered by people so insignificant in your life. “doll.” the blond cracked a smile, gently nibbling at your earlobe. “me and you, ride or die, eh?” jj’s smile only got wider, when you nodded. “let them assume whatever they want, why stop ‘em? you know your feelings and i know mine. this is the thing that matters. not gonna lie, though, if you were with me just for my weed or my dick, that would probably give me a god–complex. imagine that the hottest girl in the entire outer banks is with you, because you fuck her so well? jesus, i might get a hard–on right now.”

“you really can’t simply tell me that you love me, can you?” you asked with a smile lingering on your lips long before he finally pressed his mouth against yours.

“you know i do, doll. where’s the fun in that?”

#jj maybank x reader #outer banks x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #outer banks smut #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x you #jiara #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank thoughts #rafe cameron x reader #niki’s works 🫂

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all-things-fic · 10 months

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Jealous Guy / A Quarantine Harry interlude

A/N: Hey everyone…. Long time, no writing. Hope you are all okay? You’ll have seen from the odd ask that I’ve mentioned this one being in my google docs getting dusty. Genuinely I feel that it’s been giving me a mental block on writing anything else, and I think it was because I really thought there should be an element of smut. Re-reading it, that isn’t the case at all.

Happy reading! Speak soon x

He was panicked.

Trembling hands unknowing what to do.

Exhausted of any other option that he once relied upon.

Options that had previously worked. Options that were now failing him quicker than they ever had.

This time his eight-month baby girl was having none of it. Changing a nappy and gently rocking, no longer seemed to work. She was upset and she was letting him and the entire house know it.

“Be good for Daddy, Edie,” he hushed, a quick whisper mumbled against her temple. “‘M trying my best.”

Harry leaned his body back slightly as he turned his attention to trying to remove the lid of the baby bottle with one hand.

Usually she was good for him. The handful of times that he had done any sort of thing - a night feed or shift here or a nappy change there - she had nuzzled into his bare chest and drifted off once more.

The problem was those handful of times had been when she was tiny. And things changed. He hated admitting it to himself but he felt he didn’t know his daughter. The seven month old that he held so securely to him now felt worlds away from the tiny baby whose curled up legs barely reached his belly button when she was first placed to his chest.

He hissed a ‘yes’ as the bottle lid finally gave way, popping off from the teet and allowing him to clasp the bottle. A relief flowed through him as he found confidence to shift his daughter in his arms.

“‘S coming, baby,” he opted for a gentle tone.

Laying on your back, you stared at the ceiling of your bedroom and slowly blinked. Cries and grizzles had been non-stop for over thirty minutes now and as much as you loved a trier - and there was no bigger one than Harry - your fingers twitched to offer some form of help no longer wanting to hear the distress.

You knew it would be a tumultuous line to cross. One that he would either be grateful for, or one that would create the faintest amount of resentment.

Trying not to dwell on your thoughts, you pulled back the bedsheet atop your frame and exited your bedroom.

As you rounded the doorframe, you caught Harry with his head rolled back on his neck and face looking up towards the ceiling. It was a picture you had found yourself in many times in the early stages, a level of exasperation radiating off him that could be felt by you from over the other side of the room.

Staying silent as you rested, your eyes took in the way he presented your daughter her feed. His movements were forced, but not forceful, his hand quick to pull away the item each time her tiny hands pushed and pulled at the plastic intrusion.

“We’re not playing, Edie,” Harry said, a hefty sigh rocking through his upper body and over the words.

“She isn’t,” you replied for your daughter.

The sound of your voice had him raising his tired eyes to look at you. While his stare lingered, you noticed it seemed void of any care, almost too lost in logical thought to slow himself down rather than quickly complete the interaction with his first born like a task (of many) on a list.

“Here, let me show you how.”

You slowly pulled yourself away from the doorframe, movement tentative as you approached them both. Gently, you lifted your hand and placed it to the top of your daughter's head, stroking at her hair.

Harry’s body was stockstill as you lifted her tiny body and felt the soft trembles rock through her body from her subsiding distress. If your eyes hadn’t been so taken by your baby, you would have been able to see the dejected expression that laced Harry’s features as he noticed the way she began to soften when in your hold.

Taking on a rocking motion almost immediately, you looked on as Harry loosely held the bottle of milk towards you. You easily took the item from his faint grip, feeling zero resistance. Turning the teat to your daughter, you gently let it rest at her pouty lips.

It didn’t matter that you were mostly fading this out now for solids, not when she needed comfort.

“You need to let her take it when she’s ready,” you softly spoke, voice barely a whisper. “She’ll know when she wants it.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Harry made his barrier as he set his eyes on the relaxing face of his pride and joy. He took in the motions of your hand as you gently stroked the teet at her mouth and watched it drop open slightly to suckle.

“Sometimes if you let her know it’s there, she’ll do the rest,” you kept your eyes down as you addressed Harry, waiting for her chubby hand to join yours in holding the bottle. “She does this thing if she takes my boob where she nuzzles first and finds my nipple herself.”

Soft eyes looked up at you with a pique of enquistism.

“Yeah, you do, don’t you?” you heard the way your voice lifted as her small hand clasped against yours as you felt a smile lift at your mouth. “And when she’s grabbing, she’s not playing,” you flicked your eyes up towards Harry who stood quietly watching your exchange. You turned your eyes to Edie once more, “She holds it herself sometimes now, cause she’s clever. Aren’t you, Edie? Are you a clever girl for Mommy?”

Breathing deeply Harry found himself unable to continue taking in the two of you.

“Shall we show Daddy how we do it?” You whispered, glancing again towards your husband. Harry took in the eagerness in your gaze but fell short of being able to match you.

Why was he so incompetent?

With downturned lips, he leant in to press a kiss to your bare shoulder from where your dressing gown had slightly fallen open.

Feeling him move around you, you lifted your face to look at him. His body now slightly behind yours.

“Stay,” you asked.

“You’ve got it all in hand.”

“H-“

Feeling his hand slip from your collar, you bowed your head as he walked away before raising it and looking at his retreating figure from over your shoulder.

***

Watching her small body rise and fall with breath, you were confident enough that she was settled to slowly leave the room. Feet softly padded against the carpet, down the landing and back towards your bed.

You found yourself stilling in all movement when you saw his side of the bed still empty. With a soft frown gracing your brow, you quickly swiped up the baby monitor that sat at Harry’s bedside table and turned to walk downstairs.

You were able to make out the dull light that came from your kitchen, once you had walked through the rest of the house which was cloaked in darkness. It was there that you found your husband standing in almost pitch black, besides the light that sat in the extractor fan above your oven.

Harry rested against the kitchen counter, presenting himself in a shape to you that had gone unnoticed due to your lack of closeness since the year prior. He would always be a kind of lanky that exuded he was partial of tripping over his own two feet, but he wore his impending Dad-bod in a way that acknowledged while he had been eating for two, he’d also been working out for two.

You noted his nose rested against the lip of his trusty mug, most likely warm and filled with his favourite coffee. It was something he often did when in thought and you didn’t know if your presence would be welcomed once he came to.

Placing the baby monitor down to the kitchen counter caught his attention, his eyes peering at you across the barely lit room. The silence was deafening.

“Everything okay?”

He hummed, tone flat. A short nod thrown in your direction as he took a sip of his drink and rolled his lips into his mouth to remove them of any moisture the drink had given them.

“You should’ve gone back to bed.”

“So should you.”

You felt a wry smile lift at your lips.

“‘M awake now. I’ll probably just go for m’run or summat,” he continued.

“It’s not even five.”

“Perfect time then, no one’ll be around to harass me.”

He threw back the rest of his coffee, tilting his body slightly to place the mug in the empty sink behind him.

Your eyes looked him over as he stroked at his face, heels of his palms rubbing - almost pressing - into his eyes. He was obviously frustrated.

“Like I’m doing right now, you mean.”

The sigh that left him was one filled with exasperation. “If that’s what you think,” he trailed off, right hand running over his mouth and his day or two old stubble.

You felt yourself close up at his response, the way he seemed dismissive of your comment. Your - or at least you thought - obvious concern. While you didn’t have the desire to fight, his energy was the reason you had come to the conclusion that you were nothing but an annoyance to him in the moment.

The first you realised he had moved was when his hand rested gently at the curve of your waist. The slight pressure against your skin before he stiffly drew you to him. Lips at your hairline, his whisper of “go back to bed” seemed almost a figment of your imagination.

Then he was gone and suddenly it felt cold.

***

His feet pounded the pavement as he reached up to fix the bud of his earphone once the voice of Aaron Bruno had started to fade.

The heave of his chest and the dryness of his throat were two of the main things that kept him going. Blood pumping and fatigue weighing down his legs, he felt his frustration heavily lace his limbs before soaring away into the dark London morning.

Street lamps were still lit, leaving him running with nothing but his shadow and mind racing with bitterness.

It sounded silly, and he was ashamed to admit it but the green-eyed monster within him had openly reared its head above the parapet and Harry felt it would take a lot to push it down once more.

A run usually cured him. Allowed him time to proceed. To realise how minute he really was in the world.

The feeling of the damp air signalled that there would rain at some point, a feeling that would’ve once soothed his soul. Heart pumping out of his chest, reminding him of how alive he was. Not today.

He felt bile rise up the back of his throat causing the harsh stamp of his feet to slow as he approached the wooded area of the street in which he ran.

Body bent over, hands on his knees he threw up his morning coffee, spitting to try and remove the bitter taste from his mouth. Slowly raising to full height, hands now on his hips, Harry tried to catch his breath.

Inhaling through his nose and out his mouth, the tremble of his lower lip threw him off guard. His throat thickened, his blinks quickened. Harsh swallow. Heels of his palm pressed against his eyes as he tried to hold it.

Hands wiped down his face with a harsh pull, he looked up at the sky which had started to get lighter. Worry racked through him as his mind raced. Why was he crying?

***

It was eerily quiet when he finally made it back home with a Gail’s Bakery brown paper back swinging at his side. He tried his hardest to not draw attention to his arrival, the palm of his hand encasing his keys entirely as he laid them gently on the sideboard next to the front door.

Toing his trainers off, one by one, his Nike socks padded against the wooden floors with a stealth that he welcomed. As he walked, he slowly paused in the doorway to the lounge. His eyes found you curled up on the sofa, your favourite throw cushion nestled in the space between your neck and shoulder.

In his silent watchfulness, he thought that there was no way you were comfortable. Surely not. Then he supposed your exhaustion may have gotten the better of you.

With the bag still in hand, Harry approached you and gently placed it onto the coffee table. His hands reached behind you for the throw that had recently become an addition to the back of he sofa, there if ever the need for a quick baby cuddle struck.

As the blanket hit your body, he noticed you move with such a sudden jolt it caused his neck to dart to the right to look at you. Owlish eyes, round and startled, looked back at him. Your right arm had moved upwards, almost to stop his gesture of covering you. His touch somewhat foreign to your recent memory.

“Shit,” he abruptly whispered, more so to himself. “‘M sorry, I didn’t-“

His voice trailed off. Didn’t what? He didn’t mean to wake you? Didn’t mean to be a prick?

Two sets of eyes stared at each other in silence.

The tautness of your body slowly seemed to fade as you came to, Harry steadily lowering himself down to sit on the edge of the coffee table opposite, abandoning trying to cover you.

“What time is it?”

The sound of your tired rasp made his shoulders sag. You really needed the rest, and he’d broken your slumber.

“Just after seven.”

“Must’ve really needed that run.”

Your comment was innocent, though it could’ve been taken snidely. He had been gone longer than he should’ve been.

“I got us breakfast.”

His words were woven with an unspoken peace offering. He felt guilt crawl inside him, slowly starting to eat away at the jealousy within. Selfish, selfish man.

He couldn’t look you in the eye. The ticking of his jaw as he clenched it to fight the burn of his throat once more, at his silent deprecation, which would surely be seen as unjustified.

“Bet you could use a shower first?”

He scoffed a laugh at your suggestion, a faint smile lifting at his lips. “Smell me all the way from over there, eh darlin’?”

The term of endearment warmed you. You felt yourself sink into the cushions beneath you. He was within reaching distance, nowhere near as far as the question would lead to believe. The literal meaning was nonsense, figuratively he had hit the nail on the head.

He chanced a glance at you. “Fancy comin’ wi’me?”

You strangely blushed at his offer, but faintly nodded your head. It felt odd to blush over such a simple request. You supposed part of you felt tension between you both and you appreciated his apparent desire to try and smooth things over.

He stayed seated as you swung your legs out from underneath you and sat so that your right knee brushed against his. Standing, you felt the terracotta silk of your pyjamas brush your skin as you reached to sweep at his hair that was damp from a mixture of morning dew and perspiration.

“Come on then,” you smoothly whispered, hand squeezing lightly at the curve of his shoulder.

Slowly standing, Harry’s front awkwardly bumped into your back, his hand reaching for yours as a way to steady you both.

His touch was clammy when your fingers slotted against his. The knowledge of such a thing calming any nervous edge that fizzled within your being as you led the two of you upstairs.

Harry lingered on the landing as you walked into the bathroom, reaching into the shower to turn it on and let it warm. His feet tread lightly, trying to avoid the lone squeaky floorboard that haunted you both on night feeds.

When he stepped inside he caught you leant over the bath, rearranging the bath toys and trinkets that were placed in a basket to the one corner.

As his eyes dropped to take you in, they noticed the one lone rubber duck that was sitting at your feet. Silently bending, Harry retrieved it before declaring himself in the room with a, “don’t forget ducky.”

You pressed your hand to your chest, taken aback by him being so close. It amused him, his expression alight for the first time over the last few hours.

He watched as your eyes fell to the plastic duck, hand reaching out to take it from his grip. “This thing is the bane of my existence,” you admitted.

“You love it,” his voice was as hushed as yours. “Gets her to laugh every single time, without fail.”

That was one thing he could rely on that hadn’t changed during his time away.

You noticed the slight downturn to his lips as he spoke, before turning to place the duck on the side. “You get in first,” you nudged him. “Let me go undress-“

“Do it here,” he paused, before softly asking “please?” when his hand reached up to brush your hair behind your shoulders. The back of his hand turned to smooth down the silky fabric before dexterous fingers slowly rolled at the buttons of your pyjama top, the two sides giving way.

He bit away his smile as he felt you press his hand to your breast bone, spoiling the fun before the fabric gave way and revealed the swell of your breasts. You saw the way his bottom lip bounced ever-so-slightly when he let it go from the bite of his teeth to say, “Gonna need my hand back to get involved.”

You let it fall.

Harry quickly made use of it and pulled at the collar of his shirt to lift it up and over his head. His socks, shorts and underpants quickly followed only for him to cup his manhood to cover himself as he turned to walk under the warm spray of water.

Next, the silk of your garments satisfying slid down your skin, trousers easy to step out of and top aimlessly forgotten too.

From behind the glass shower door, you watched Harry close his eyes and willed the subconscious frown to relax from his brow.

You stayed silent and looked on. He needed this moment. For the water to fall onto his taut muscles, to loosen and wash away whatever concerns that were weighing him down.

There was something lingering under his skin and while part of you was determined to get it out of him, you knew for the benefit of you both it had to be on his terms.

Opening the shower door, you stepped inside with Harry keeping himself turned away from you, the expanse of his back was impressive as he held his hands flat to the bathroom tiles and let his head hang forward.

You lifted yourself onto your tip toes, arm wrapping around his front to steady yourself as you pressed your lips to the skin on his back.

In reply, he squeezed your hand.

***

As expected the shower had been filled with awkward silences, lingering stares and fumbling feet as you moved around each other to bathe. Harry haa gotten out before you, roughly drying his body and hair before tip-toeing out to peep into Edie’s room. You only knew the last part cause you caught him slowly shutting the door when you left the bathroom underneath your own fluffy towel.

“Fast as a rock,” his voice rumbled, confirming she was indeed still asleep. “I reckon we’ve got another two hours for us before she makes herself known.”

You had softly smiled at his words at the time, not really knowing what to say. He gave you a small smile of his own, as he walked past you and mentioned something about flicking the kettle on as he made his way downstairs.

The two of you were now laid out on the sofa, Harry on his back, legs accommodating you as you lay atop him. Crumbs from the pastries that you’d shared mingled with your skin and sprinkled the plates that sat on your coffee table.

His hands were gently massaging at your shoulder blades as he sang under his breath to John Lennon’s ‘Jealous Guy’. The rumble of his chest was soothing, as you pressed your face further into his pec and inhaled the smell of his freshly washed skin.

The sound of a drowsy sigh caught your attention, your head turning on Harry’s chest to look at the baby monitor that was now directly in your eye line.

A video of a sleeping Edie met your eyes, all content with one arm resting above her head as she remained on her back. You kept silent as you tried to zone in on the coos she was making to see if anything was out ordinary, but she continued to seem satisfied.

“She’s happy dreaming,” you spoke more so to yourself.

“How do you know tha’?”

“Listen to the noises she’s making,” you pointed out, well aware of how you sounded.

A silence fell over both you and Harry, but rather than one of contentment, an awkwardness lingered.

“I’m useless.”

Those two words he spoke were heavy as they broke through. “I’m so- so fuckin’ useless babe.”

You lay still, atop him, a frown forming at your brow as you listened. He wasn’t useless but it wasn’t your time to intervene while he was on his self-loathing train. Not yet.

He quite clearly had a lot to mull over, to speak out loud.

“I have not got a fuckin’ clue what I’m doin’ wi’her. Not one single fuckin’ clue and-“ he sucked in a deep breath that racked through his chest when released. “I’m standing about like a spare part, in the way of you and the incredible job that you're doing for the both of us because-“

“Because what?”

Your voice sounded so unusual to you. So small.

“We all have to start somewhere, sometime-“ you continue.

“No, it’s not that, I know that. It’s because- I feel like I have to when- I guess, I’m making it worse.” He paused. “Every time I come home I’m reminded of my inadequacies and earlier on during my run I actually thought about not coming back because I can’t stand it.”

You felt yourself hold your breath as his confession, body wriggling to try and get out of his hold. His voice was getting breathier and breathier as he spoke and you knew if you pulled yourself up to get a proper look at him, you’d at least find his lips downturned.

The heavy swallow he did next only confirmed that for you.

“I’m so fuckin’ jealous of you,” he croaked. “Of the bond you share. Of,” his voice faded. “Everything, pretty much.”

As he spoke, you lay in silence unsure of how to broach the subject. Did he need you to be supportive, or did he need some tough love?

Before you could stop yourself you felt the bubble of laughter start, the shake of your shoulders underneath his touch.

“Okay,” he started, clearly offended, “alright, I get it. I’m being ridiculous. You can stop laughing at me.”

“Babe,” you started, lifting yourself slightly. As you did so you saw the way his vacant stare lingered on the ceiling, his stubble unnecessarily inviting to you as it peppered his cheeks, chin and underneath. “Harry,” you tried again to get his attention, “I’m not laughing at you. Am I laughing at you telling me this while Jealous Guy is playing in the background? Yes but not at you.”

Listening to your words, Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. In a matter of seconds he’d turned his head slightly and from this position dropped his eyes to look down the bridge of his nose at you.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “At least not the new things. I am impressed that I’ve made it look like I do.”

From your words, you watched his features soften. “And don’t,” you reached up to hold his chin between your forefinger and thumb. “Don’t think I don’t ever need you, that we don’t need you-“

“Cause we do,” you paused. “But if I’m honest, I’m going to need you to just do it. To just get involved, to make the mistakes and to learn from them because I can’t do it all on my own.”

“I don’t need you dwelling on the fact that she didn’t take a feed from you one time. I need you to suck it up and try again in two hours time when we- you, try her with baby porridge because quite frankly I’m sick of finding it in my hair and I think you should get the enjoyment of experiencing that at least once.”

Seeing the flicker of his lips gave you hope.

“Really nice of you tha’ is,” he started. “To give me tha’ experience.”

“I know. I’m really a giving person in that way.”

A small silence filled your space again. It was a little light this time. Progress.

You let your eyes run over his features once more, hands getting the better of you when the thumb on your right hand tried to work away the lines of worry etched into his forehead.

“We need to learn together, grow together. Help each other,” you hummed, unable to look him in the eye, your own concern of how he’d admitted how he was thinking of leaving ringing far too loudly for you. “We’re stronger together.”

“Look at me,” he requested. You fought against his ask, feeling the burning of your throat appear. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

You swallowed heavily, nodding your head. “So, can you please look at me?”

Two pairs of sad eyes met.

Envy had no rest, and the trouble was you were both already so tired.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #quarantine harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you

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courtofparrots · 3 months

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Happy Valentine’s Day, here’s an extremely sappy mini-fic based off of @trans-luis-serra ‘s headcanon that Luis is a crybaby 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

Leon gasped in pain as his knees collided with the hardwood floor of their bedroom. He toppled over sideways, tangled in a sheet, thrashing around to try and get his bearings, get his knife into his hand, protect himself-

“Leon?” A concerned voice pierced through his distress, Luis’s voice, bringing him back to his senses. He wasn’t in the mines in Valdelobos, he was in his room, very much safe. He quit his thrashing, placing a hand over his chest to will his heart to stop pounding, as he took gasping breaths. He opened his eyes to find his husband moving across the bed to look at him, obviously still drowsy and confused over the commotion.

Leon stood up, groaning at the ache in his knees from the impact of throwing himself out of bed. “Nightmare,” he explained as he climbed back onto the mattress, pulling the sheet over the two of them and settling back down, “I’m fine, sorry for waking you up,” he planted a kiss on Luis’s cheek and laid on his back, taking deep measured breaths to chase the lingering panic away from the corners of his body. Luis seemed to hesitate, but then followed, curling himself into Leon’s side rather than moving back to his own side of the bed. Leon simply wrapped his arm around his love’s waist, thankful for the comforting weight of him after the disorienting dream, beginning to drift back off until he felt Luis let out a little shuddering breath.

“Baby?” Leon said softly, brushing a hand over Luis’s shoulder. He didn’t answer, just shook his head and attempted to bury his face into Leon’s chest, sniffling a little, “Luis, are you crying?”

“No,” came a muffled reply, but there was wetness evident in his voice, and his shoulders shook.

“Oh, baby,” Leon cooed, gathering Luis in his arms so he could pull him fully onto his chest. This was one of the things that has surprised Leon the most as they got to know each other after Spain. Luis was an easy crier. Leon would never forget how he caught him trying to subtly wipe away tears when he had offered his apartment as a place to stay after they first got to the states, and it had only ramped up in the years since.

When they watched movies, happy or sad, Leon could usually expect to look over and find his husband with glassy eyes, wiping at his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. When he brought home a little gift from work, some trinket that made him think of Luis, he could expect at least 5 minutes of Luis struggling to form a word to thank him as he fought back tears. Luis had had to wear sunglasses when they went to Ashley’s graduation so he wouldn’t embarrass her with his red splotchy eyes when he met her college friends (he’d been sobbing in the stands 5 minutes prior). Leon thought it was wonderful, genuinely, that someone who has survived so much could be filled with such softness.

He hugged Luis to his chest, “it was just a dream, love,” he whispered into his hair. Luis gave a wet chuckle, “I’m supposed to be telling you that, it was your nightmare,” he muttered bitterly. “True,” Leon agreed, smiling where he had his lips pressed into his husband’s dark hair, “but I’m okay, aren’t I?” He pulled back so Luis could look at him. Luis nodded weakly, sniffling again. “You go through too much,” he whispered, bringing a hand up to stroke Leon’s cheek, “I hate thinking about you not being safe in your own dreams,” his face crumpled again, frame shaking. Leon shushed him, cupped his face in his hands and pelted kisses over his cheeks and nose, using his lips to brush away the wetness there, peppering a series of rapid-fire butterfly kisses over his mouth and jaw that didn’t stop until Luis was smiling into it, breathing evening out a bit.

“I am safe,” Leon said after he was satisfied Luis wasn’t going to burst into tears again, “the dreams can’t hurt me. And even if I do have a nightmare every now and then I have my cute husband to get all worried over me, which I imagine is the waking up equivalent of having a girl waiting for you to return from war.” Luis laughed softly, rolling his eyes, but he certainly seemed like he was calmer.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep now, baby?” Leon asked, brushing Luis’s hair out of his eyes gently. He nodded, nestling himself back into Leon’s side, pressing his face into the crook of his neck and taking a deep breath. Leon gave him one last squeeze before they both drifted back off, wrapped up in each other. They would most certainly wake up tomorrow with numb limbs thanks to the position, but they couldn’t be bothered by it as they fell asleep soaking in the weight and warmth of one another, the great privilege it was to be here, safe and sound.

#mini fic #serennedy #leon s kennedy #luis serra #serrenedy

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sweetvoidstuff · 3 months

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Share your pain II Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Summary: Amidst tears and a revelation of homesickness, Hyun Su offers comfort, leading to an unexpected, comforting connection between you two in the post-apocalyptic world.

the first part, kinda ~~~~~ the next part, kinda

Masterlist

~~~~~

At the quiet corner of the shelter, Hyun Su sat with Pyeon Sang-Wook and Mister An, sharing a meal and exchanging light banter about their scars. While Mister An regaled them with tales of his past, the atmosphere turned somewhat lively until you walked past, a cloud of distress hanging over you. Tears welled in your eyes, making it evident that something heavy weighed on your shoulders. Without the usual exchange of greetings or even a nod in Hyun Su's direction, you hurriedly made your way past them to an empty corner on the first floor.

Concern etched on his face, Hyun Su watched you go, his meal forgotten. Mister An, observing the situation, turned to Hyun Su and said, "Whatever you did wrong, fix it. Apologize. It's easier that way." Hyun Su, genuinely puzzled, mumbled, "I don't even know if I did anything."

Mister An sighed, making himself clear. "Well, figure it out. Your task is to help her this time." Hyun Su hesitated, unsure if intruding on your space was the right course of action. Mister An, not one to tolerate indecision, forced him to "be a man and help his lady."

As Hyun Su got up, a heavy blush on his cheeks, and began searching for you, he tried to think about what he would say. However, all his prepared words vanished when he found you quietly sobbing in one of the mostly unused rooms. Frozen in the doorway, he watched the tears fall, his heart breaking at the sight. You were normally so independent, strong, and reliable; seeing you so small and broken hurt him more than he realized.

Unable to say anything, it was you who broke the silence first. Sniffling and attempting to cover your tears, you mustered the courage to speak, though your voice wavered. "If it's not something important, just leave me alone, please."

Hyun Su, genuine concern etched on his face, took a few careful steps toward you. "Is everything okay? Are you hurt?" he asked, reaching out to comfort you.

Your response was sharp, your emotions spilling over. "Does it look like everything is fine? It's perfect!" The frustration and sadness in your voice struck Hyun Su deeply, and he felt a pang of guilt, realizing that he needed to find a way to make things right, even if he didn't understand what had gone wrong in the first place.

"I'm sorry," were his unsure words, bowing deep and hoping he could fix whatever he did. He knew he shouldn't have relied on you so heavily. You came to his aid every time he needed you. You must hate him for it, you must resent helping him. Those were his thoughts, but as you watched him puzzled and annoyed, he looked at you puzzled as well. Trying to find the right words, he expressed, "I don't know what I did, but I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry!"

Instead of accepting his apology, you looked downright angry now. With a growl that made him look between a mix of fear and confusion at you, you said, fighting the tears out of your voice but failing miserably, "It's not you, you dummy! You didn't do anything! I'm… fuck… I just… I miss home."

Angryly, wiping your tears away but failing, Hyun Su relieved he wasn't to reason for your distress asked quietly. „Home?“ Your anger turning into raw saddnes. Your voice a mere whisper „Yes, home“ looking at your knees that you had pressed before you, you took some deep breaths. While Hyun Su took the liberty to come even closer to you. It didnt feel right to stand over you while you cried so he sat himself next to you. Waiting for you to continue. Laying your head on your knees you looked at him debating what to say, you continued, "I am not from Seoul. Hell, I am not even from Korea. I came here to study for a while and then go back to my annoying-as-heck family, telling them about all the amazing food I had, all the friends I made," chuckling entertaining your own thoughts and studing Hyun Su's face, "describing the boy I fell in love with. Something like that. I shouldn't be here all alone, fighting, surviving a human turning into a monster end of the world scenario. I will never see them again." During the end of your speach your voice got softer. Closing your eyes, letting the sadness wash over you.

Hyun Su was at a loss for words. You were right and also so very wrong. He couldn’t entirely empathize with you. He had already lost his family. But was this worse than not knowing if they turned into a monster or if they were still alive. Not sure if this was the right thing to say or do, Hyun Su held his hand out to you. "You are wrong!"

"You think I can make it to the airport, hop into a plane, and get home?" you asked sarcastically, looking at his hand confused.

Hyun Su wiggled his hand, and a blush appeared on his face. He hadn't thought making you grip his hand would be so nerve-racking. It looked easier if you did it. After a moment of hesitation, looking between his hand and his eyes, you let go of your knees and took his hand. Looking straight ahead now because he couldn't look at you anymore out of fear of blushing too much, he quietly said, "That maybe not, but you aren't alone. I am also here."

A sob ran through your body, a whimper escaping you while a new wave of tears shook you. Hyun Su was shocked and started to panic. He wanted to make you feel better, not worse. He jumbled over his words, not knowing now what to say to make you stop crying. But soon your soft whispers reached his ear while you gripped his hand tightly. "Thank you."

Hyun Su sat beside you, still holding your hand, his gaze focused on the floor. The weight of your sorrow hung in the air, and he struggled to find the right words to offer you comfort. As your tears continued to fall, he hesitated, unsure of how to navigate the delicate balance between consoling you and respecting your pain.

Finally, after a moment of silent contemplation, Hyun Su spoke softly, "I may not fully understand what you're going through, but you're not alone in this."

Your grip on his hand tightened, appreciating the sincerity in his voice. The shelter, once filled with the distant sounds of survivors and occasional conversations, now held a quiet intimacy between the two of you. Hyun Su continued, "You're stronger than you think. And even though it might not replace what you've lost, I'm not going anywhere."

The warmth of his words began to thaw the icy grip of sadness that had taken hold of you. You glanced at him, eyes still misty but a glimmer of gratitude shining through. "Thank you, Hyun Su," you whispered, your voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and strength.

He offered a gentle smile, "No need to thank me" Hyun Su's thumb traced soothing circles on the back of your hand, a silent reassurance that he was there for you.

As the quiet moments unfolded, Hyun Su's presence became a source of solace. The weight on your shoulders seemed a bit lighter,as you laid your head on his, knowing that you weren't navigating this challenging journey alone.

After a while, Hyun Su spoke again, "So what Korean food is your favorie till now?"

A soft smile gracing your lips. The two of you sat there, hand in hand, finding solace telling Hyun Su about the nice Tteokbokki shop you had been to. The world outside the shelter may have been fraught with uncertainty, but in that moment, you took refuge in the connection you had forged with Hyun Su.

As time passed, the tears subsided, leaving a sense of calm in their wake. The atmosphere in the room shifted from one of sorrow to one of quiet companionship. Together, you faced the challenges of the post-apocalyptic world, drawing strength from the unexpected bond that had formed in the midst of hardship.

#cha hyun soo #cha hyun su x reader #cha hyunsu #sweet home netflix #sweet home x reader #cha hyun soo x reader #kdrama #song kang #sweet home #sweet home imagines #hyun soo x reader #hyun soo #hyun su #cha hyunsoo #cha hyun su

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morphodae · 4 months

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◈ Wriothesley x reader (gender neutral they/them is used) ◈ SAGAU AU (self-aware genshin au) ◈ notes: hurt/comfort, short piece (drabble? idk), a bit of a fourth wall break? This is quite personal for me after being (falsely) accused of going through my coworker’s things at work two weeks ago. Needless to say, that was the last straw for me and I quit. Hope you all enjoy and find some entertainment in this piece and maybe even some comfort <3 ◈ winner from this poll

☆゜・。・。・゜★ ☆゜・。・。・゜★

He felt it before he saw it; the turmoil that brewed throughout the entire Fortress. It began as a feeling of unease, then melancholy, then it progressed into a blanket of static energy that kept everyone on edge. The Creator of Teyvat was clearly distressed, clearly going through something, yet Wriothesley could not figure out what. Unfortunately, work at Meropide involved duties that kept him occupied during absurd hours of the day and night, so he wasn’t able to fully investigate the cause of his beloved Creator’s sadness.

It wasn’t until one day that he heard it; his Creator’s sobs as They passed by him in the Traveler’s vessel. It was a visceral thing; the sound reverberating in his mind in the form of gut-wrenching echoes. Wriothesley couldn’t tell if They were crying audibly in Their realm or if the energy of melancholy traveled through Their mind into his. Even so, it seemed that others in the Fortress could feel it too – even Sigewinne – who was the one to concede first.

“Your Grace, the Creator is so sad,” she says, a small hand clutching her chest and an expression of genuine agony, “Wolsey and some other inmates came by today and asked me if I knew anything about it. The Creator seems to have a close connection with you. Your Grace, please try and see if you can ask Them what’s wrong or if you can help Them. I hate feeling Their sadness…”

Wriothesley lets out a small exhale as he sits behind his desk. “Thank you, Sigewinne. And… I know. I have felt it for a while now. They feel so drained and exhausted. I-I will try to alleviate Their turmoil.”

Sigewinne sighs in relief. “Thank you, Your Grace. It’s not just the fortress that is affected, either. I’m not sure the wildlife or flora on the surface of Teyvat will be able to handle any more sadness from Them.”

With that, Sigewinne leaves the Duke’s office and lets Wriothesley ruminate on what he wishes to convey to the Creator. He knew that he was held in high regard by the Creator; despite Them never visiting Teyvat personally…yet, anyway. He could surely hope that one day They would come in Their own vessel and not through the Traveler.

He clears his throat, deciding to throw caution to the wind and begin his comfort as best he could. “Your Grace? Are You there? I sure hope You can hear me… or feel me, at least. I want to know why You feel so forlorn. Is there anything that we, Your creations, can do to help?”

Silence. More silence ensues. After several beats, Wriothesley sighs. Surely, the Creator had Their own problems to deal with and he wasn’t even sure if Teyvat were Their only creations or not. Until–

“It’s just… so tiring.”

Wriothesley’s eyes go wide and he leans forward in his desk chair; unsure if he’s truly witnessing Their holy voice in his mind. With a certain amount of caution and gentility, he urges Them to continue.

“I dealt with these micromanagers, my bosses, for so long. I thought I could stick it out, you know? I tried to. I really tried. But having someone breathe down my neck for every little thing is so exhausting. No matter how hard I worked, no matter how early I came in or late I stayed, it was never good enough, was it? They are a small company so I just don’t understand how they feel they can get away with treating so many employees like that. I mean, the turnover rate is high for a reason and… please excuse me for rambling. I want to cry, I think. But I just can’t. I’m tired and angry and upset and… I know that I’m a hard worker. I know I did my best. But to be accused of going through a coworker’s desk when I was just trying to work? When my supervisor allowed another employee to go into that same coworker’s office anyway? I felt singled out and–,” Your voice is choked; a deep, rumbling sigh that verberates through the air.

Wriothesley cuts You off before he can feel You spiral, the frantic tone of Your voice and inner turmoil slices through him with great distress. “Your Grace, if I may, I don’t quite understand Your world nor do I understand what it is You may be going through,” he waits for You and when he feels You listening to his words and the stifling presence of negativity slowly begin to stagnate, he continues.

“But I do know that You are a kind and gracious Creator. You’ve listened to me, helped me, visited me at the Fortress. You already know me and know I don’t trust easily, and yet you still dedicate Your time to making sure I’m not so lonely. I…I appreciate that more than I can express. With all that being said, I want to tell You that we, Your creations, are here for You. No matter what. We’ll always be here for You and support You even if you feel You’ve been treated poorly and unfairly. We can feel Your good energy, the love You have, the hard work You put into everything. Your emotions are valid too. Please… don’t forget that.”

More silence ensues after Wriothesley’s impromptu pep talk to You. For a moment, he worries that You’ve already left, but when he hears a choked laugh he feels immediate relief.

“Thank you, Wriothesley. Just… thank you.”

He smiles at that and relaxes in his chair. “Anytime, Your Grace. We’re here for You.”

“I know.” He can feel the smile in Your voice.

Soon, Your presence dissipates and Wriothesley is left alone with his thoughts. The energy of the Fortress, and of Teyvat, quickly returns to equilibrium and no longer does the air feel so stifling and heavy. After several minutes, Sigewinne makes an appearance in the Duke’s office once more with a knowing smile on her face.

☆゜・。・。・゜★ ☆゜・。・。・゜★

#wriothesley x reader #x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin hurt/comfort #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #genshin x wriothesley #genshin impact x wriothesley

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quillthrillswriting · 1 month

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i think that by far, the most common zutara trope i've seen is zuko freeing katara from her unhappy marriage with the clingy, unappreciative aang.

i've always felt that that aang would genuinely worship the ground katara walked on and be exceedingly kind and respectful, and so i've always thought that this trope would make a lot more sense flipped, with aang in the position of being katara's safe space after zukko reverts back to his angry, sullen, lashing out persona that he was before uncle iroh & the gaang's involvement.

this fic is the result of me having the thought "might f around and write a kataang fic that flips the usual zutara trope of "zuko helps katara escape a failing relationship with aang" 😳"

---

Zuko was all alone, heading an entire empire and facilitating the transition of his nation from a war-bringer to a force for peace. At first, she told herself that it was only because he had needed help that she chose to stay with him, but that wasn’t being entirely honest. After that play on Ember Island, all of the scenes where the two of them were in love had opened Katara’s eyes to the possibility, and try as she might, she couldn’t shut them again. And Zuko, after all that he’d sacrificed to help them, after redeeming himself in her eyes, even fighting alongside her, he had seemed like her best chance at home.

So she had stayed with him.

---

Zuko proposed, after just six months, but Katara thought little of the brief timeline. When you know, you know, right? He had given her his mother’s ring, and had her dress in Fire Nation colours for the ceremony. She had been under the impression that the wedding would be a welding of cultures, and so she had spent weeks painstakingly carving a traditional water tribe proposal necklace.

When she had presented it to him, Zuko had only said that a Fire Lord couldn’t be seen wearing another nation’s trinkets . She had quietly dabbed away her tears when he wasn’t looking.

---

The moon rose and set six more nights before Katara rose with it, slipping outside of the castle during the changing of the guard, draped in traditional water tribe colours for the first night in years. Before anyone had seen her, she had made it, slipping between Fire Nation homes almost silently. She only paused to pull clothes and a cloth head covering from a clothesline, silently apologizing to whatever family she had just stolen from. She tucked a couple of coins and a piece of gold jewellery into one of the pockets of the pants still on the clothesline, an attempt at making amends for her crime, then blended into the night again.

She hadn’t stopped moving until she’d finally found a small forest, then she’d made herself a bed of moss and curled up as if she was a child back on the tundra, pretending to be a sleeping snow fox alongside Sokka.

She missed her brother. She missed her home.

---

She knew where she would go once the cargo ship reached the land. The last location Aang had been in was the Western Air temple. So that was where she would go. If she needed to, to find Aang, she’d scour every inch of the mainland. She knew he would do the same for her. Which begged the question- why hadn’t he come to her when he began to feel that something was off?

It was that question that Katara started with, as she settled into a comfortable position on Aang’s woven rug, a cup of hot tea curling steam around her body that she absent-mindedly bent into shapes around her.

---

Aang sighed, looking away. “Katara, I hate to give you more reasons to feel distressed, but in case you hadn’t remembered, you told me to stay away. Told me my “juvenile crush” was ridiculous and made you uncomfortable. I felt awful, and so, I backed off. I kept sending letters every couple months, trying to make sure you were okay, but you told me you were too busy, and I respected that.”

Katara’s tone was unsettlingly neutral when she responded. “...What?”

Aang titled his head, confused. “You said, in your letters, that-”

She responded in that same tone. “What letters , Aang?”

♥ the rest of the (completed) fic can be found here!! ->

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echologname · 3 months

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What's from God and what's not

From God

Holy - set apart from the world (which is cursed with sin) and anything that comes directly from God Himself

Love

Joy

Peace

Patience

Kindness

Goodness

Faithfullness

Gentleness

Self-control

Mercy, forgiveness and grace

Truth

And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Phil.4.8&version=NLT

Everything humans do in the Bible is not of their own power but God's which they receive the blessing to experience through FAITH. So, God is saying to keep our minds focused on Him because many beliefs or doubts start as thought and can work their way to the heart and spirit for better or worse.

What's not

Demonic - absence or lack of God's light and presence (think of how the sun provides warmth, light and life and as you get further away, space becomes cold, dark and inhospitable)

Anger/bitterness (holding a grudge)

Hatred

Sadness

Lonliness

Distress (fear)

Lies

Murder

Theft

Pride

Greed

Lust

Gluttony

For jealousy and selfishness are not God’s kind of wisdom. Such things are earthly, unspiritual, and demonic. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jas.3.15&version=NLT

Demons are angels who've chosen to separate themselves from God, and the Bible is very strict about committing sin in your mind and heart like 1 John 3:15, "If you hate each other, you are murderers, and we know murderers do not have eternal life."

This is to warn others about merely doing something in your mind and heart with good or bad intentions. You can do anything for the goodness of God if you're acting in genuine honesty, humility, selflessness and empathy. But anything can be sinful if you're doing it in selfishness, callousness, or in the desire for malice, deceit and disorder (chaos).

The point is, ALWAYS check your thoughts and feelings.

And we destroy every proud thing that raises itself against the knowledge of God. We capture every thought and make it give up and obey Christ. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2Cor.10.5&version=ICB

This to help you be aware if you're being deceived or influenced by evil spirits and to make a strong, conscious effort to DENY them, and do what God says instead:

Give Him your fears and worries

Be joyful

Be loving

Find peace in Him

Let go of anger

Pray and praise constantly

It can be REALLY hard to do these things, but God promises to give you endurance if you trust in Him (Isiah 40:31) and strength if you ask for it.

I can do all things through Christ because he gives me strength. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Phil.4.13&version=ICB

#christian #spiritual warfare #Bible verses

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604to647 · 4 months

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Safest with You (Ch. 8 - The Cab)

5K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: Unable to be apart from you, Din decides to be more honest.

Warnings: Angst and pining again, but the return of fluff at the end, some insecure!Din, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, sweetheart, etc.)

A/N: Just so you don’t think my imagination is that cheesy, the waiter with the folded napkin actually happened to me (The Woman was Too Stunned to Speak)😂 Thank you for your patience as I posted some other pieces before this one and as always for reading! Hope everyone is having a good 2024 so far!

Series Masterlist

Your friends are more than a little surprised to see you show up teary eyed at brunch the next day; like you, they had expected your third date with Din would end with earth shattering orgasms, not a heart shattering goodbye.

You cry while you tell them about the date and how it ended. They’re as confused as you have been about what happened; you mumble, “He just said it wasn’t a good fit,” hanging your head.

Rory, predictably, goes straight to revenge, “Do we hate him? Should we key his car?”

Lifting your head because you know she’s only 37% kidding, you say softly, “No. He was kind about it. And he’s allowed, you know? He’s allowed to call it quits after three dates. We really only knew each other for two weeks.”

You cross your arms on the table and lay your head down. You're a jumble of raw emotions right now: confusion over the sudden change in Din's feelings, distress over having possibly done something to precipitate that change, but mainly sadness over the loss of what could have been. You realize now that you had harboured high hopes for what a potential future with Din might be like, and those hopes had been the source of some most welcomed feelings of excitement and optimism over the past few weeks - to have them dashed, so unexpectedly too, has left you crushed and at a bit of a loss. Had you done something wrong? You think you must have, and that thought has you biting back tears of disappointment in yourself.

Lala strokes your hair as you sniffle quietly, “…I didn’t even get to fuck him.” You bury your face in your arms with a whine. It feels a little better to make jokes.

“Aw babe, I’m so sorry. We all know how much you wanted to fuck him. We wanted you to fuck him too,” Bea sympathetically rubs your back.

“You know… it’s probably good you didn’t sleep with him, babe. Like, it would have been really shitty for him to sleep with you and then break up with you after,” Katie muses out loud.

Propping yourself up on your chin, you lament, “He wouldn’t have done that. He’s too sweet.”

“Is now a good time to mention that Mark is still single?”

“JEN!!!!”, the other girls yell. But you laugh, a small laugh but it’s genuine.

“What?! I asked if it was a good time? Sheesh!! Plus it made her laugh, okay?”

You lay your head back down on your arms, and listen to your friends chatter. They know you well enough to know that you don’t want to keep talking about it, and that you’ll feel the most comfort from just being in their supportive presence.

Lala and Bea make sure to periodically let you know they’re there with a gentle rub of your back or arm until the food arrives, and when you dig into your eggs you feel slightly better.

Just over a month passes before you see Din again.

During that same time, Din sees you twice: once intentionally and a second by accident.

The first time is the day after your last date. He goes to the restaurant where he knows you and your friends have your standing brunch date, hoping you would seek the comfort of your friends after an upsetting night. He doesn’t go in, but does peer in through the window to look for you; even though your back is to him, he can tell it’s you and moreover, he can tell you’re crying. Din feels as if his heart has been ripped out of his chest, remembering your hurt and confused face from the night before. As he watches you lay your head on the table and your friend stroke your hair lovingly, he fights the urge to burst into the restaurant and beg you to take him back. He’s desperate to tell you it was all a mistake and that he can’t bear to be apart from you, but the voice in his head that wouldn’t quiet yesterday night is still there, telling him you’re better off without him and far away from what his world entails. When he sees your food arrive, and that you’re in better enough spirits to eat, he leaves feeling assured that your friends will take good care of you, and, although it depresses him to think this, certain that soon he will be but a distant memory for you.

The second time Din sees you is three weeks later when he’s out for a run and he passes a park that seems to be hosting a big dog meet up. Din quickly realizes that all the dogs are the same breed as Al and he stops to scan the crowd looking for you, but Al spot him first. Tail wagging, Al separates from the group and jogs over to the edge of the park where Din is standing – excited and full of energy; Din leans over the fence and pets the exuberant pup, “Hey buddy! Miss you so much. You being a good boy?” He scratches Al all over his head and neck, making sure to give him a few extra ear rubs that Din knows he likes. Din’s missed Al and is pleasantly surprised to see him, but his heart leaps at the realization that you must be nearby. He spots you finally, talking with some dog people, and when he sees your lips say, Where’s Al? he gives a final pat to the dog, knowing that it won’t be long before you’re coming over. Although Din tells Al to go back to you, the normally obedient dog is not budging, he stays with his tail wagging and now barking at Din excitedly. Out of options, Din moves behind a nearby tree so not to be spotted when you inevitably notice where all the racket is coming from. As he predicted, you come over to fetch Al, “What are you doing over here by yourself, silly boy? Were there some squirrels? Are you yelling at the squirrels?” you coo at the dog, who’s bouncing up and down, still barking. You give Al a bunch of kisses, then lean over and whisper in his ear; happily, Al waits to trot by your side back to the group of other dogs while you give the area a quick look to see if you can ascertain what drew your dog over here in the first place. And that’s when Din finally looks upon your face. The picture of you and Al from the farmer’s market on his phone that Din’s been starting at over the past few weeks is nothing compared to the real thing. Your smile is as warm and inviting as ever, and your eyes bright and full of glee; he knew he wasn’t over you, but he didn’t realize his heart could further break until the thought strikes him that you would never again look at him with an expression like that. He waits until you’ve rejoined the group in the park before reluctantly resuming his jog and leaving you and Al behind once again.

“I’m stuffed,” you moan, holding your stomach. Your friends are all doing some variation of the same gesture and nod in agreement having just finished a delicious birthday dinner for Katie at her favourite Italian restaurant. Great food, even better drinks, and loving company – it was the perfect birthday celebration. It’s a shame you’re all too full for cake or dessert.

“Can we postpone birthday dessert to brunch?” groans Katie.

That sounds like a fantastic idea, you can’t eat any more tonight, “You’re the birthday girl! We can do anything you want," you grin.

“Maybe what she wants for her birthday is for you to go back in and get that waiter’s number? Didn’t you think the waiter was cute?” Jen says, purposefully avoiding Katie’s look of incredulousness.

He had been cute. And he had folded a napkin into a rose and placed it next to your plate when he served you. Then when you had joked that you weren’t the birthday girl, he had come back and with folded roses for all the girls. Yes, it was super cheesy, but sweet. And maybe, just maybe, you might have been tempted to give him a chance if it wasn’t for a certain curly haired, brown eyed boxer that you knew could be a hundred times sweeter, who you knew you would be comparing him to in every other way as well. Even now, more than a month after you last saw Din, you didn’t think there was any actual competition. You must have a far away look in your eyes, because Bea wraps her arms around you and looks at Jen, “What about Mark? What would Mark say if he knew you were cheating on him with some waiter?” This snaps you back to the present with a giggle. The girls all laugh and you give each other prolonged goodbye hugs and cheek kisses, before you leave them to catch a cab in the opposite direction. Shouting love yous and promises to each message when you get home safe, you turn and head down the street and around the corner.

The neighbourhood you’re in is lively at this time of night, lined with busy restaurants and cafes that are finishing up last service, and a few clubs that are just getting their night started. With all the activity and bright lights, you don’t have any qualms about be out by yourself, but you are finding yourself a bit cold so you hope to catch a cab sooner rather than later. The dress you wore for dinner has long sleeves but is backless, which had been sufficiently warm earlier in the evening, but now that there’s a bite to the air, you’re starting to shiver a little. You decide to wait on the curb right outside a club that seems fairly busy already, reasoning it’s probably a high traffic area or at least it will be easy to grab a taxi after it drops off clubgoers.

You miscalculated. Not a lot of cabs are going down this street tonight for some reason, and the two that you do spot with their lights on either don’t see you or are claimed by other people first. You’re starting to get cold for real, hugging yourself and rubbing your arm with the hand that isn’t raised in the air.

“Allow me,” says a deep voice from behind you. You turn to find Din standing close, with his arm already out to hail the next free cab that comes down the street.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You’re not sure where he came from, and are very surprised he’s there at all. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, but here he is handsome as ever. He’s dressed in a sharp dark suit, his matching dress shirt neatly buttoned, but no tie – he looks so good. His broad shoulders are stretching his suit jacket in all the right places, and the suit sleeves hug his muscular arms perfectly snug. This time when you shiver, you know it’s more than the crisp night air that’s giving you the chills. Din looks down at you over the rim of his black framed glasses with a soft expression, and without a word, takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders; his free hand then slips under the front of the jacket and around your waist, settling on your lower back where your backless dress allows him to touch your cool, bare skin. He murmurs, “It’s cold out,” before gently pulling you in towards him. You’re close enough to smell him now – the scent of his cologne alone makes you press your thighs together a little; you place you hands gently on his hard chest before lightly trailing your fingers down and wrapping your arms around him. Feeling the hand on your back press you closer, you rest your cheek against his chest and close your eyes. The two of you stand like this, comfortably holding each other in silence for a few minutes before a taxi pulls up.

Din reluctantly pulls away from you to open the back door of the cab; after helping you in, he opens the front passenger door to speak to the driver directly. He gives the driver your address, and then to your shock, pulls out his wallet and you see him take out several hundred-dollar bills and hand them to the driver, “Sir, it’s very important to me that this lady gets home safe, and I know I can count on you. For your help, please keep anything over the meter as a tip, a thank you from me.”

The driver is similarly surprised, but takes in Din’s imposing figure and gives him a confident nod, “No problem, sir. Consider it done.”

Din makes a point to look at the driver certificate, “Thank you, Carl,” patting the driver on the shoulder before closing the door. He comes around the still open back seat door and crouches so you’re making eye contact with him from your seat. “Thank you, Din. You didn’t need to do that,” you say softly, but with a look of gratitude so he know you’re truly touched. Din reaches in the cab to tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear, “Need to know you’re safe,” he says tenderly, letting his hand cradle your cheek.

He pauses for a moment, almost unsure, then asks, “Were you out here on a date?”

You don't know if there is any other intended meaning behind the question, but you give a little chuckle, “No, I was out for Katie’s birthday dinner; we went to Luigi’s. Everyone else shared a cab over the bridge and I walked over here to catch a cab uptown.” You’re not sure, but you think you see a flicker of relief flash across Din’s face. “What about you? You here to do some clubbing? This music seems really your style,” you tease.

Din laughs when at that exact moment, the door of the club opens and the loud cacophony of electronic beats spills out into the street. You smile wide at Din and he’s elated; his hand still on your face, he softly strokes your cheek with his thumb as you smile at one another. He’s about to answer with a quip of his own, when a loud voice from near the club doors calls his name, “Din!! Are you coming in or what?”

Din stills his hand and turns his head to give the person a nod. You move your head and peer around Din to see who he’s speaking to; you catch a brief glimpse of Vanessa, dressed up to the nines for the club, spinning around on her 4-inch heels and stomping back into the club.

Oh. You fold your hands in your lap and look down, fiddling with your fingers. You’re starting to feel a bit stupid for imagining that there might still be a spark between you and Din. It seems that you might not be out on a date, but of course he could be.

Din knows exactly what you’re thinking and is quick to correct you, “We’re not here together - I’m doing a security escort tonight. Just making sure my old boss’ niece and her friends get in to the club safely; Vanessa's just part of the group.”

“You don’t owe me any explanations,” you shrug, defeated.

Din tips your face up gently, and says sadly, “What if I want to owe you an explanation?”

You bring both of your hands to his face and search his eyes, afraid you might be misunderstanding his words. “Din,” you whisper. And then his lips meet yours. It’s as if he never stopped kissing you – his kiss is so warm and familiar, you hadn’t fully realized until this moment the extent of how much you missed it. And him.

You’re both slow to break apart, looking deeply into the other’s eyes with longing. Din speaks first, “Pretty bird, I’ve missed you so much. I never should have walked away; I’ve thought of you every day since.”

You look at him softly, “I’ve missed you too.”

“I’m so sorry for leaving. I can’t tell you how much I’ve regretted hurting you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Din pleads with something close to desperation in his eyes.

You pull him in by his collar and kiss him again, this time more intensely than before, your desire and neediness bubbling to the surface. As you thread your fingers through Din’s curls, he leans further into the cab, bracing one hand on the car seat and the other grabbing your upper thigh where the hem of your dress ends. Where his hand touches your bare skin, you feel a warmth radiate and you gasp softly into Din’s mouth. He takes this as permission to deepen your kisses, opening his mouth, his tongue begging to be let in. Allowing him access, you moan softly a he licks into you. Fuck. You had forgotten what a good kisser he was. You pull away gently, still not sure what any of this means, and open your eyes to see Din looking at you like he used to, with adoration and hunger. You have a million questions, and out of habit, you look over to the driver to ask if he minds giving you some more time before starting the fare. Unsurprisingly, Carl seems totally unbothered and committed to not paying attention to what’s happening in the backseat; the generous tip from Din having secured his patience and discretion. Din is reading your thoughts: you deserve answers and all the time needed for those answers; he cups your face with his hands to redirect your attention back to him, “I should get back to work now, pretty bird. But we’ll talk, okay?” He hopes you can read the assurance he’s trying to convey with his eyes. Nodding, you start to take off his jacket, but Din stops you, pulling it back over your shoulders, “Keep it, sweetheart. It’s cold.”

“I’ll get it back to you,” you promise. Soon, I hope, your eyes plead.

Din understands the unspoken request, “I know you will.” He presses his lips to yours softly one last time as a promise of his own, “Let me know when you make it home safe, baby.”

Gently closing your door, Din knocks twice on the roof of the car to indicate to the driver that it’s time to depart. You look out the window, and softly hold Din’s gaze as the cab drives away.

---

After you get home, you walk Al, check in with the group chat to make sure everyone made it home, then change out of your dinner clothes. Washing off your make up, you send Din a quick text: 5 stars cab ride. Thank you for making sure I get home safe. You never deleted Din’s contact or the text conversation, and now as you scroll up through your old messages, you’re reminded of how easy and flirty your banter used to be. You still don’t know what happened the night of Jimmy’s fight to change how Din felt about you and until you find out, despite tonight’s kisses and confessions, you can’t be sure that he feels the way you do, and this thought has your heart sinking a little.

After distractedly finishing a few odd tasks around the apartment and unsuccessfully picking up your book a few times, you decide to go to bed when your phone dings.

Pretty bird, are you still up? Has Al gone for his walk yet?

Al’s gone out already!

Do you think…he wants to go out again?

Your phone rings before you can respond; it’s Din, and you can’t help but smile when you answer, “Hello? Din?”

“Hey pretty bird, do you think Al might be up for a second walk tonight?”

You look at your dog peacefully snoozing next to you on the couch, unawares, “Probably! Are you off work soon?”

“I’m downstairs right now, if that’s okay.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken. You ask for 5 minutes and use it to pull on some sweats and swap out your underwear for a sexy black lace set, the same set you had worn for Din the last time you had seen him. Picking this particular set wasn’t intentional, but putting lingerie on to match your mood is; you don’t know what you’re expecting, but your desire for this man didn’t diminish during your time apart and you can’t help the warmth of want that’s been building in you since you saw him a few hours ago.

As you and Al walk through the front doors, your first thought is of how familiar and comfortable this feels; a late night dog walk together that you’ve looked forward to many times. Your second thought is of just how goddamn hot Din is. His hair, longer than you remembered, had been slicked back a little for work, but now it’s a mussed up and looks soft and touchable again. You favourite pair of his glasses are comfortably perched on his distinct nose, one of your favourite features of his handsome profile. His facial hair is a little scragglier than a month ago, but you like it – it makes his greys more distinct, the sight of which is making you a little weak in the knees. You internally scold yourself to get it together so you don’t throw yourself at him when you get close enough. Din’s smile for you is wide and genuine but with a hint of shyness. However, for Al, Din’s squatting down, arms out wide, welcoming Al’s slobbery kisses and excited pawing.

“Ok, Al, calm down,” you tell the dog, even though you yourself feel anything but calm. You hand Din his jacket, which you brought down with you, “Guess you really wanted your jacket back, eh?”

Din takes it from you and puts it on in a smooth motion, “Thank you. I do really want this jacket back. I really missed this jacket. It’s the best and most perfect jacket. I’m lost without this jacket.”

You chuckle and pull him in by the lapels of said jacket for a kiss. Slow and sweet, you press your lips to Din’s and breath in his scent as his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in gently. The two of you stay like this, reveling in each other’s touch for a few minutes before moving apart, as if you both know things can’t progress further until you address what’s unsaid between you. You walk hand in hand for about half a block in silence before you’re the one brave enough to broach the topic.

“Din,” you look at him with unsure eyes, “what happened? I thought everything was going so well. Did something happen the night of Jimmy’s fight? Did I do something wrong? Did… your friends not like me?”

“Oh, pretty bird, god no,” Din stops walking, so he can face you. He’s devastated that you might have thought this whole time that you were somehow at fault for his mistakes, although he should have known that your instinct would be to try and take accountability for when things went wrong. He looks at your anxious face and hope he is showing the proper amount of sincerity with his expression and voice, “You didn’t do anything wrong, baby. You could never. You were sweet, and perfect, and funny, and smart, and everyone loved you. I promise. I… it was…you were so lovely – you are so lovely… and all I could see.. I- shit…”

You lead Din by the hand to a sidewalk bench so he can collect his thoughts. When you’re both seated, Din sighs and takes a deep breath before he starts again, “I need to tell you something about me, pretty bird.” He’s nervous, his deepest insecurity about his relationship with you about to be spoken out loud, “I’m… not a good guy.” He shakes his head a little when he sees you’re about to protest, and presses on, “You know how I worked in personal security? It wasn’t just body guarding work or escorting people’s nieces to clubs… I… hurt people. And sometimes when I do that work again, I have to hurt people still.”

Your face is neutral as you take in Din’s words, but you don’t recoil from him or look like you want to run away, so he continues.

“The people that I worked for, that Paz and the rest of the guys… the Mandos, still work for… it’s really one person. A family really. The Fett family… I don’t know if you’ve ever heard anything… or read about them in the paper? Well…”

You shake your head a little; you haven’t but you think you know what Din is alluding to, and you’re getting a more complete picture of what Din meant when he said he came from a different “world”. You can tell he has so much more to say, to explain, so you stay silent.

“…I’ve known them all my life. All the Mandos have. Boba, he’s the head of the family, he was like a second dad to me growing up, and one of my dad’s best friends. I’ve known him and the family a long time… they’re not bad people, I swear, pretty bird. But… they’re involved in some not so savoury businesses… the type of business that make protection and security… essential. Which is where the Mandos come in… and where I came in. Some of the people involved in these kinds of businesses… unsavoury is probably too kind of a word to describe them. And those were the kind of people that were there at the fight that night. They were all around and… baby, you were so lovely and perfect, and you had no idea the type of filth you were surrounded by. I thought, how could I pull you down to that level? Get you dirty like that? Like, literally, you got bloodied.” Din hangs his head.

“I felt so guilty dragging you into that world… so, I let you go. You’re too good and sweet to be around people like that. People like… me.” Din can’t even look at you as he finishes.

To say you’re surprised by this confession is an understatement. Never in a million years would you have guessed that Din walking away had been for your (perceived) benefit; you’re also not sure how to go about correcting him of some of the falsities that he’s convinced himself of, namely that you’re somehow too good to be in his world, but you think you have to address the most egregious one first. Bringing the hand that Din isn’t cradling in his up to his face, you gently stroke his jaw with your thumb so he will meet your eye; you want, no need, him to hear you,

“How can you say you’re not a good guy, Din? You’re the kindest guy, the most considerate guy. The things you’ve done? First, I want you to know, anything you tell me about that type of work or your family. I will never tell anyone, okay? Please know you can trust me. Second, I don’t need to know any details and I am positive that anything you’ve done, you did out of necessity and never out of cruelty. Do you know how I know that without knowing any of the particulars? Because you are a good man. You can harness so much strength and power, and yet, you choose to be so, so gentle; you approach everyone and everything with care – it’s evident in the way you treat me, Al, your friends and the way you speak of your dad, the community, the guys at the gym, even the Fett family. You take care of people. That’s who you are.” You ask again, “How can you say you’re not a good guy?” Tilting your head at Din, you search his eyes, willing him to understand how you feel, “I don’t know what you thought I would think of you, but nothing will change my mind – you’re selfless, loyal… a protector.”

Din looks into your eyes and finds the sincerity and kindness that he’s been missing from his life for the past month; how could you be so loving and kind to him after he had hurt you, made you cry? The way you looked that night crying, was not one he would easily forget. He vows to never make you cry like that again if he can help it; every other concern he had about bringing his world into your life has evaporated in this moment with your tender words. He should have known you would be pragmatic, thoughtful and open-minded. He should have trusted you to have been able to handle the truth; he feels like he owes you another apology. Instead, he simply whispers thank you, before descending on you and kissing you fervently, urged by the want and urgency that has accumulated from having been away from you for so long.

This feels so right. It feels perfect to have Din’s hands on you again. To have his mouth on yours, his tongue trailing over your tongue, his teeth lightly nipping your bottom lip. But you can’t assume he’s thinking or hoping for the same thing you are, not after last time. You pull away gently, and look at Din with an expression he can’t quite read, something between pleading and uncertainty, “Din… is this for tonight only? It’s okay if it is, I just don’t want to assume I know what you want.”

Din tips your face to his so that there can be no possibility for misunderstanding, “Oh, pretty bird. It can be, if that’s what you want. But if you’ll give me a second chance, I’m yours. I’m yours even if you don’t, if I’m being honest.”

That’s all you need to hear, and you launch yourself at Din, slamming into his body, practically laying across his lap as you attach your lips to his. Kissing him over and over, unable to keep from smiling, you moan slightly when Din’s hands wander down to your backside, giving both cheeks a hard squeeze and not letting go, using his grip to pull you up into him. He’s grinning now too, deepening his kisses, unable to keep his happiness from spilling over into your mouth.

Climbing off of him, and slightly breathless as you stand, you reach your hand out to Din, “Do you want to come up?” Din places his hand in yours and gets up; towering over you, he looks down at your beaming face and can’t help but smile back, “I really, really do, pretty bird.”

#din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #no y/n #modern au #modern!din djarin

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herzspalter · 10 months

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Rise of the Beasts spoiler thoughts:

I had a guy next to me who got really nitpicky with their buddy about Elena being stupid for standing so close to Airazor going rogue, but I genuinely don't think that was the character being dumb for the script. That felt like an impulsive bad decision to me that someone might do in her position. She wanted to help and didn't think twice about how small she is. I don't know, characters doing something stupid isn't always bad writing, sometimes people do dumb shit irl too because they got tunnel vision and, in her case, just wanted to help because someone was in distress.

I personally never enjoy ultra violent Optimus Prime killing people left and right, but it didn't bother me as much here as it does in the other live action movies. He's not presented as the perfect guy, he's flawed and frustrated, and even though I prefer Optimus being a gentle but stern guy, I don't mind him Scorpion-Fatality-killing a dude in this because I think within the context of the movie, it makes sense. I always hated him in the Bay-directed movies because he's presented as this perfect hero, but he also kills people who are defenceless and begging for their lives, and that just doesn't work for me :) Crazy, I know!

This movie wasn't a big jack off session for America so I liked that a lot, the other live action movies are a fucking propaganda fest (I havent seen Bumblebee so I dont know about that one)

I like that the US military isn't a part in this movie at all thank god, but I'm worried about the GI Joe stuff at the end. GI joe is extremely stupid and can be a lot of fun if treated with the silliness that the original cartoon is, but man I hope they don't turn this into military propaganda :( I know they very likely will because that's what GI Joe is, but I can still wish hahaha

I like Noah, he reminded me of Raoul from G1, I think both him and Elena are likeable, I didn't mind hanging out with them

Mirage is MVP I'm so happy Mirage finally gets to do something

#Transformers #Rise of the Beasts #spoilers

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months

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omggg!! i like never request anything but you responded to my last one ab tan and it made my dayyyyyy 😭💗. btw, that's literally my bf i'm never getting tired of him so here's another one if you have a chance

hear me out *again*…perhaps tangerine is stressed out about some stuff that’s causing him to be distant. reader noticed this and obviously she comforts him!! maybe a little lemon cameo too!! this isn’t super detailed but i hope you get it🥰.

your writing is keeping me alive stink🤭🫡!

- 🧬

hii!! ahhh that’s literally so sweet!? me too, will never get tired of him. I love it, such a cute idea! stop it🥹 thank you! your lovely comments do the same for me. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 and sorry this took longer than planned, been ill last couple days

distance

tangerine x fem reader

wc || 749

masterlist + taglist

Tangerine is naturally a very closed-off guy. He isn't exactly the type that can talk about his feelings and share what's on his mind or what's bothering him. He often felt like a burden for sharing his thoughts and doubts, so he preferred to keep them to himself, usually by distancing himself.

He hated the vulnerability of it all, how intimate it felt to share his genuine feelings and concerns. But ever since he started dating you, he's been trying to correct his way of thinking. He wanted to change for you, be a better man for you, but he also wanted to change for himself. He knew you'd never judge him for his thoughts, though he couldn't help but resort to his old habits of projection and isolation. He wanted to be honest with you, but it was much harder than he thought.

Sometimes you knew him better than he knew himself, so when you noticed him avert from your company and distance himself, you knew something was bothering him. You had to be careful when approaching the topic, as you didn't want to pressurise or distress him any further. You thought softly easing him in would lead to the best outcome, so you make your way to the kitchen and make him a tea to his exact taste in his favourite mug, then collect a pack of biscuits from your secret stash.

You slowly walk into the living room with tea and biscuits in hand, where you see him lying on the sofa, staring aimlessly at the tv.

"Hey," you say quietly, not wanting to startle him. "Thought you might want this," you smile, extending the mug towards him.

He takes it from you with a soft nod, sitting up, a wry smile lining his lips. "Cheers,"

"What you uh— what you watching?" you ask.

"I dunno," he lightly chuckles, searching for the controller. "rugby, I don't know— can't remember,"

"Mind if I join?" you sweetly ask, nodding to the space beside him.

"Go on," he softly grins.

You sit next to him, subtly scooting over, cuddling into his side as you drape a blanket over both of you. You look up at him, your features soft and understanding as you cup his cheek, angling his face to yours, bringing him back to you when you notice him divert from your gaze.

"Everything okay?" you ask, entangling your hand in his.

"Yeah," he nods, his words unconvincing.

"What's going on? You don't seem like yourself," you sweetly press, your thumb stroking over the back of his hand. "You can tell me,"

"I know," he softly sighs, glancing at the tv, trying to avoid your questioning. "Just—“ he starts, shaking his head. "We got updates for our mission in a couple weeks, and it's stressing me out. It's-- it ain't a good country, that's all. And it just—" he pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as if to get rid of an uneasy thought. "I don't want something happening, you know," he exhales, kissing the crown of your head. "I don't want to leave you alone... if something happens," he frowns, hugging you tighter as if the action was to reassure him.

"Aw honey," you whisper, squeezing his hand. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? That couldn't have been an easy thing to keep to yourself," you softly smile, your eyebrows knitting together as you analyse him. You didn't want to lie or tell him what you thought he wanted to hear, so you didn't say anything else. You choose to snuggle into him, holding him close as if to comfort his thoughts. "Okay, here's an idea," you start, watching his eyes soften with intrigue. "We order a fuck tonne of food; pizza, pasta, noodles, kebab— whatever you want. And we invite Lem over, and we can just pig out on the sofa and— and watch shitty tv and drink beer? That sound good?" you smile.

A genuine grin creeps on his lips as he looks down at you on his chest. "I like it. Sounds good," he kisses your forehead, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. "Only if we can get curry. I've been fucking dying for one," chuckling.

Even though it was such a simple thing to say, you could tell he was starting to feel better about the situation.

"We can order as much curry as you want," you smile and reach up to kiss his cheek. "Anything you want."

taglist: @tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @slasher-sequels-suck @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @ugh09876554444 @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossomfan @landryslove

#🧬#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine imagine #tangerine fluff #tangerine blurb #tangerine fic #tangerine oneshot #tangerine comfort #tangerine x fem!reader

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pommunist · 1 month

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Honestly, I've been very scared to keep posting about the situation, since I don't want people who follow me to think I'm ''too negative'' or judge me when I'm not remaining as positive as before, or to bring negative posts to dashes of people that I know are very stressed about this. And I appreciated before how you are a safe place for neg thoughts, so I'm here to vent a little bit if that's okay.

My experience since the reveal can be described as a rollercoaster that only has been going down.

I was incredibly stressed when Lèa revealed everything, but remained hopeful that things could change for the better. I had trust.

At first, the next few days after that, I thought the leaks of the changes made were odd since they looked like they lacked context, and the lack of context could lead to fandom outrage, which I was worried about at the time. Why was I worried? Well, I still had trust right things were in progress to be done. Looking back into that, while we got the context later on and it reassured me then, not jumping into immediate conclusions and waiting for more points of views was more my way of protecting my mind from spiraling further into distress, all while knowing full well that Lèa has only acted with the best intentions and none of this was in bad faith.

Then we get hit with this: Admin after admin are leaving, and it gets to the point that Lumi and Shade leave, because the communication never existed in that workplace and priorities were proved to be incredibly out of place. My trust was B R O K E N. And like I promised an anon back then, I finally allowed disappointment to sink in.

And why was my trust broken? Fun fact: When it matters to me, I have good memory, and I remember Q's statements. The words and the actions are not matching.

- He said that he was going to collect testimonies and investigate. Ah yes, the investigation tactic of not contacting anyone in the workplace and actually gathering their testimonies, I heard it's a good source of information to make important changing decisions /srcsm.

- He said the CCs were being updated about the changes. Then we see CCs saying they actually don't know shit going on bts except for a couple of general announcements.

And there may be other stuff that does not match, but those two are the most relevant to me right now.

Like, genuinely I didn't even care about whatever the fuck Q said after Lumi and Shade's statements, and any other post that tries to reassure the fanbase just feels like very hopeful thinking, that I used to have, but I DON'T anymore. It feels like false promises and looking for things that make sense, when, really, that shouldn't be our job. At this point I need tangible proof of improvement, not just words because these fucking words have proved to not be enough for me to believe whatever the fuck Q says it's being done.

I can't even trust fully that the merch money will actually go to payment for the remaining admins and compensation for the ones who left. That would be the best case scenario, but can I even TRUST this scenario to occur? Right now, no, I don't think so, I have not been given proof to trust this. And seeing any merch with Pomme, Dapper or Ramon in the Qsmp Awards just felt extremely wrong and I hated it.

When you are a Huevito, this has been wild: First, Artea leaves, and then, Shade reveals to us that Ramon's OG admin was fired around the time Artea took the role, while this entire time most of the Huevitos thought the OG admin was back around the last days of february. It feels worse when you can connect the dots about what happened with Ramon's OG admin, when we know that he was extremely busy with school last time we saw him, and we consider Lèa saying how management would fire you if you were not active enough...

Must clarify, all the love to BOTH Ramon's OG admin and Artea, they both killed it with the role, they are both wonderful people and I wish the best to them and the new Ramon admin that was with us at the beginning of march aswell. Also all the love to them. Must be hard to play a character that was played and developed by two different people before, and the effort is deeply appreciated.

I also feared to say the above since I was scared to spread misinformation somehow. But honestly, I'm trusting Shade's words, you know, the one who's best friend irl with Ramon's OG admin should know full well what they are talking about and the status of employment of said best friend.

And when you have been a ghostie for months since basically the beginning: This shit SUCKS and people are SO EXTREMELY VALID for being upset and grieving.

I think no company should ghost their employees even when they are ACTIVELY TRYING TO REACH OUT. Fucking paranoia of leaks ain't cutting it for me as an excuse for this mistreatment and I don't blame Lumi and Shade at all for taking the decision that was healthier for themselves after that. Just a ''we can't say much right now due to legal reasons, but we are still slowly working on it'', LITERALLY JUST THAT HAD TO BE SAID, WDYM NOT EVEN THAT.

The french community have every right to be angry after this. The CCs stated they were leaving if Lumi left, and that's an entire language going away from the server. Yeah, no shit they are upset.

And I want to just grab Bad by the shoulders and say YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PLAY ON THE SERVER IF YOU DON'T WANT TO, YOU ARE CLEARLY DISTRESSED, DO WHAT'S BEST FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH AND WELL BEING, WE UNDERSTAND.

Of course I want this to turn out for the best, like everyone. I believe the basis of this project was a wonderful idea, and I'm grateful for the positive things it had brought. But this shit is not being resolved the right way, as we could see. And with Q seemingly no understanding the underlying issue, then why would I remain as hopeful as before.

Another fun fact: When you break my trust, it's really fucking hard to gain it back or for that to happen in the first place, so.

I have stated that my hyperfixation to Qsmp has died out, since I decided to keep my distance in order to collect my thoughts, reflect, breathe and do what's best for myself. Nowadays I only would watch two specific CCs play, but if at some point they decide to leave, which I would not blame them if it reached that point, then that would be it for me. I would be done with it. I don't blame the people who also feel this way or the ones who think it is already over.

If I'm only staying here it's purely for love for this community. In the anniversary, I could not bring myself to say happy birthday to the Qsmp, I said happy birthday to Qsmpblr instead. I love the people I have met and interacted with here dearly. Even if our opinions don't match, because hope and trust have left me, the love is still there, you know?

That would be everything I wanted to get out of my chest, sorry for the big text and angry rambling. I would prefer to stay anonymous for this one. Take care, Pommunist.

Hey anon ! I don’t really know what to say in response to all this, just that I agree with most of what you just said here.

The feeling of being afraid that you’re being too negative too often ahah big same here ! I didn’t think my blog would turn into what it is when i made it, and I felt many time like I was bothering people with my frequent posts on the situation (I also know I’m not the best at tagging stuff I promise I try my best though !).

We have to remember that we aren’t being negative for fun or drama, we are just talking about a situation that is negative so of course this isn’t going to be fun and rainbows. And personally I’d rather do that than « faire l’autruche » as we say in french (Translation would be : to do the ostrich aka to put your head in the ground so you can ignore your problems), as it is too serious of an issue .

Also using your post to express my admiration and gratitude to Ramon’s OG admin and Artea because they both did an amazing job playing him and shaping him into the character we love so much (Our beautiful baby boy).

And yes, the community is great ! Even if you don’t feel like watching the server or at least less than before, we should still interact with the wonderful people thanks to it ! Also, keep sharing fanarts, fanfics, anything ! the artists are blessing us with wonderful art and stories they still deserve our support ! I understand people who do but we don’t have to stop talking about something we love altogether if we don’t want to, the things that made us like it are still here, at the end of the day we can keep that love at least.

My thoughts are so disjointed here anon I’m sorry but lots of love to you ! As someone who was hyper fixated on it too, the fall from grace was particularly painful, can relate 😣

I’ll reiterate that I don’t mind anons at all, you don’t have to justify yourself ! It just makes a bit sad the number of people who told me they didn’t feel like they could express their thoughts publicly.

Take care too ! ♥️

#qsmp discourse

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ashintheairlikesnow · 2 months

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I am LIVING for the Chris reblogs. He truly is one of my favorite whumpees of all time. You have mastered the art of a subtle “perfect victim” with him. I may be dead wrong but realistically, what has he done that was even controversial through his whole storyline, you know what I mean? Like just as a few examples of your wonderfully written Not Perfect victims and (this isn’t to victim blame or shame at all,) Jameson did sign up for WRU, his and Kauri’s recoveries were FAR from smooth or perfect, and don’t even get me started on Antoni, yikes! Even Nat, who is doing the lords work now, has a shady past! But Chris genuinely perfect. Even the things he thought were his fault weren’t. And like I said it’s not his main character trait is being THE perfect victim, it’s one of those things that was nicely left not outright said, and for the readers to use critically thinking and I LOVE IT. I think that’s a really difficult feat to pull off and you did a fantastic job.

Also like I said I may be dead wrong but I genuinely can’t think of one true misdemeanor committed by Chris.

Having said all of that I also love all of the character flaws you bestow upon the rest of the gang! Either them being fucked up before, or the aftermath of all of the traumatic experiences leaving them fucked up and with significantly poorer judgements that lead to them getting in situations they maybe would not have if it wasn’t for having a new and definitely not improved way of thinking! Okay, yap over. Keep up the great work!!

So this is kind of an interesting thing for me, because I really do try as much as I can to steer away from that "perfect victim" archetype, but Chris kind of fell into it despite how hard I tried not to have him do that.

His basic disposition was always going to be a sweet kid who had been absolutely tortured and who had nonetheless come out of it with a resilience that would allow him to start rebuilding from that shattered foundation.

Unfortunately, it does mean that he didn't end up with a lot of the more kind of exciting to write and interesting faults and imperfections and occasionally outright malevolence that I have in other characters who are not bad guys, they're just people who had to do bad things to survive horrifying situations.

But of course, the biggest impact there as far as Chris's story is that he never saved himself. He didn't do anything against his own moral code to escape. He was saved by a woman who realized what she was looking at, driven several hours in the middle of the night by a man he'd never met before, and dropped on the doorstep of a whole new group of strangers he had no idea whether or not he could trust.

So Chris does hit that damsel in distress archetype in a way that I don't normally like to go for in main characters. But he really insisted on it, and I think there's this thing about archetypes where we see them so often that we get kind of tired of them, but one of the reasons we do see them so often is because they resonate. And there really are people like that in the world, not everybody of course.. probably not even most people put in the same situation would react the way that he reacted to things. But people do.

And what Chris did to survive was pull back inside of himself so thoroughly that when he started to come out of his shell, all the basic goodness in him was more or less intact and untouched. They could destroy so much of him, but they could never make him anything less than inherently a good kid in a bad situation.

If you were to ask chris, he would probably tell you that the biggest character flaw in him is cowardice, because even as an adult he doesn't really fully understand why he has the freeze and fawn, and hates himself a little for never having been able to fight in any real way. He would call himself a coward, not just for not fighting back but also for the times he's been too afraid, like when he walked away from Rafael the first time they met. That he was able to screw up the courage in the museum to talk to him then was an enormous feat of bravery for Chris. He was absolutely wrecked for days afterward. It took everything he had in him to do it.

#chris asks

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 2 months

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Galileo Galilei Main Story

Sorry, this took me a while, but here you go.

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Not proofread. Spoilers ahead.

Afterward, I found myself sitting in front of the door.

I didn't remember how I got here, but perhaps Professor Maury brought me back from that forest.

Mitsuki: "Why?"

Mitsuki: "I prevented the event in my dreams from happening, and yet..."

My voice trembled, and tears welled up in my eyes.

Maury: "It's futile. No matter what you do, the outcome will remain unchanged."

When I looked up at the cold words coming from him, he stared down at me emotionlessly.

Maury: "Thinking you could help someone is just plain arrogance. You should realize how shallow your words are."

Despite having just encountered such a scene, he showed no signs of distress.

Maury: "Especially that child. That dhampir is fated to die."

Maury: "Dreaming about their events is a mystery in itself, but perhaps it was the thoughts of the dhampirs that reside in that garden that made you see it."

Mitsuki: "Thoughts residing in the garden?"

Maury: ".........."

Maury: "Your speculation turned out to be unexpectedly accurate."

After a slightly unnatural pause, he continued.

(I'm getting so confused.)

The sadness and frustration of not being able to do anything for that family, along with questions about him, swirled in my mind.

I staggered to my feet and stared directly at him.

Mitsuki: "How much do you know?"

Maury: ".........."

Mitsuki: "You say dhampirs are destined to die and that the outcome cannot be changed. You even talk about the mansion and this door."

Mitsuki: "Professor Maury, just who are you?"

As I questioned him, he cast a cold gaze upon me.

Maury: "I originally designed this door."

(What?)

Maury: "Though it looks like the purebloods were using it."

He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, then continued.

Maury: "The dhampirs that appeared in your dreams are my kin."

Maury: "I am one of the last surviving dhampirs."

Mitsuki: "You're one of the last surviving dhampirs?"

He averted his gaze from me and turned to look at the door.

Maury: "I attempted to change the fate of my brethren using this door."

(Him, too?)

Maury: "I tried multiple times to save the few of them born throughout history, but it always ended in failure. It's as if the world rejects them."

Maury: "Dhampirs are destined to disappear from history."

Mitsuki: "Oh, no..."

The anguished feelings of the dhampirs in my dreams resurfaced.

(He's been confronted with the demise of his people and the sight of them being chased and killed by humans and vampires, again and again.)

He tried to help them but wasn't able to and despaired.

(Maybe even to the point of giving up.)

I gazed at his profile, facing the door.

Mitsuki: "Do you resent the humans and vampires who subjected your comrades to such a fate?"

I asked in a slightly trembling voice, and he turned to me.

Maury: "Let me ask you in return. If you were in the same position, could you not resent the fact that you are persecuted just for being a dhampir?"

Mitsuki: "That's..."

Maury: "Did the murdered dhampirs commit any crime? What about their families?"

Maury: "They seek to exclude them simply because they are different. Humans and vampires alike are equally foolish, and I hate them for it."

Even in his words, I could feel his anger.

(Professor Maury genuinely hates all those who persecuted dhampirs.)

Unable to say anything in front of his anger, I suddenly remembered the conversation I heard back at the mansion.

------------Flashback-----------

Leonardo: "Dhampirs are half-bloods. They can sense the presence of vampires."

Leonardo: "Some are said to use that power to become vampire hunters, but dhampirs are rare and have shorter lifespans."

Comte: "Perhaps their ability to sense vampires was exploited by humans, or they became hunters themselves to take revenge against persecution."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(For some reason, he knew about the mansion.)

(If he had been investigating beforehand, could it be that he was aiming for everyone as a hunter?)

One possibility came to mind, and my body tensed slightly.

Mitsuki: "Are you planning to seek revenge for your people?"

Maury: "Revenge?"

Mitsuki: "There are some dhampirs who become vampire hunters."

Maury: "I see."

After answering honestly, I awaited his next words.

Maury: "To cut to the chase, I'm not a hunter. But if I were to seek revenge, what would you do?"

Mitsuki: "I..."

I already knew that there were kind vampires.

(Comte, Vlad, Leonardo, and everyone from the mansion; they are all important to me.)

(That's why, if they are in danger, I would want to stop it.)

Also…

(I’ve seen the suffering of the dhampirs exposed to hatred in my dreams.)

(If someone can stop others from hurting each other, then...)

Mitsuki: "I understand why you would want to hate."

Mitsuki: "But not all humans and vampires are evil."

Mitsuki: "At least, the people around me are different. That's why I won't take revenge. I'll consider another way."

(I don't think revenge will make the sorrow go away.)

Because the pain will surely remain in your heart.

Maury: "Another way?"

Mitsuki: "I'm not sure exactly. But if there is anything I can do, I'd like to work with you to figure out a way to heal your sorrow."

As I uttered these words, the atmosphere around him suddenly changed.

Mitsuki: "-----!"

He closed the distance between us and placed his hand firmly against the door.

Maury: "It seems you still don't understand."

Mitsuki: "Professor Maury..."

Maury: "You think you can heal my sorrow? Don't make me laugh."

Maury: "Do you think you have some kind of special power?"

Mitsuki: "I don't think that at all! But I can consider things."

Mitsuki: "Even if you vent your anger and hatred, your wounds will not heal."

Mitsuki: "That's why I want to think of other ways than revenge!"

Maury: "What good does healing sorrow do? What can you do when you have no power?"

Maury: "You've seen firsthand how people get treated unfairly just because they're different."

Maury: "Discrimination, killing, conflict—they're the nature of those who live on this planet."

Maury: "The roots of anger, sorrow, and hatred will never stop, and yet you think that spouting pretty words alone will rid the world of hatred?"

Mitsuki: "That's..."

Unable to say anything, he took a deep breath.

Maury: "Let me tell you one thing."

Maury: "I genuinely despise those with arrogant beliefs and those who can only speak empty words."

Mitsuki: ".........."

His quiet yet intensely cold anger gripped my heart tightly.

(Arrogant beliefs, huh? Maybe he's right.)

(I don't know how to make the conflicts and sorrows disappear, but...)

Mitsuki: "Still, I don't want you to take revenge."

Maury: "Is that your justice?"

Mitsuki: "I don't know. But I do know that hatred only breeds more hatred."

Mitsuki: "I want to stop that sad cycle of negativity."

Maury: ".........."

I gazed into his eyes, and the tension continued to hang in the air.

Maury: "I asked a stupid question."

Maury: "Regardless of your argument, I'm here to serve my goal."

Mitsuki: "Goal?"

Maury: "That's right."

Maury: "To put an end to this foolish world."

(Put an end? Destruction? Just what exactly is he trying to do?)

(It's beyond my imagination, but if he's the one who created this door, then is he trying to cause something much more significant?)

I gazed into his eyes, seeking answers.

His eyes, beautiful yet sometimes shaded with sadness, now radiated a cold, ruthless gleam.

(But...)

Mitsuki: "Is destroying the world something you really want?"

Maury: "Yes."

Mitsuki: "I find it hard to believe."

Maury: "What do you mean?"

Maury's voice grew more irritated.

Mitsuki: "After all, you've tried to help the dhampirs."

Mitsuki: "I can't believe someone like you would only desire destruction."

He expressed his frustration with human folly and the desire for destruction, yet despite that, there was a hidden sorrow in his eyes.

(What is your true intention?)

(Just who on earth are you?)

Maury: ".........."

Feeling as though I might lose sight of everything in his anger, I held my ground, gazing steadily into his amethyst eyes.

Maury: "You always have that look in your eyes."

He slightly furrowed his eyebrows.

Maury: "Fine. If you're going to speak as if you understand everything, then go and see it with your own eyes."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Maury: "You want to know what I'm trying to do, right?"

Maury: "Then I won't hide or run away from you."

Maury: "See with your own eyes what I am trying to accomplish and what my true desires are."

(With my own eyes?)

If I know that, will I understand him?

Will I be able to heal his sorrow and stop his desire for destruction?

Maury: "So, what will you do? The choice is yours from here on out."

(Even if he calls it arrogance, I...)

Mitsuki: "Fine. I’ll confirm with my own eyes what you are trying to do."

(And the truth about who you really are.)

From the small question that started it all, our destinies shifted dramatically in front of the door.

Galileo: "Allow me to see as well."

Galileo: "Whether you are indeed a being capable of changing fate."

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#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp jp #ikevamp galileo #galileo galilei #ikevamp translations #cybird

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