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sugarcoatedcigs · 4 months

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♡ mini series: enduring you pt.2 ♡

[pt.1 right here]

a/n: it’s an understatement when i say i am WEEPING FOR BLACK TSHIRT ELLIE. (and no i am not talking about my eyes) anyways!

summary: ellie has been…off since your first interaction with her. at dina’s party, ellie and you share a joint alone. what will come of this?

word count: 1.7k

warnings: slow burn, alcohol and weed consumption, a lil angst :,)

well fuck. i swallow the knot that formed in my throat, hopefully ellie wasn't staining dina's opinion of me. dina then snapped me out of my thoughts, "well get in here silly." while coming in, i glanced at ellie where she had taken up half of the small couch with her manspreading. her hands were fidgeting with a cup she was holding.

dinas house was warm and inviting, just like her. i looked around every inch, except where ellie sat. i could feel her eyes on me. "wow nice place. it's got charm." dina smiled wider, "isn't it great? why don't i get you some tea?" before i said anything she was already out of the living room. goddamnit dina. you leave when i need you most. i pretended to look more around the house but then ellie cleared her throat.

"so we're neighbors huh?" her voice was gruff and bored. i paused at my looking around to meet her gaze, she was looking through her hung eyes with disinterest. responding with the same bored tone, i said "uh huh. neighbors." there was a drawn out pause then she started again, "you can come by anytime i guess." her eyes dropped to the ground, and she scratches her lips. that's something i wasn't expecting.

before i could reply, dina came in with a cup of tea for me. "it's chamomile from the town garden. i put some honey in it too." she passed me the cup and then ellie stood up suddenly and made her way towards the door. her eyes met mine again and they slowly dropped until they were back on the ground. opening the door she nodded at dina, "i should get going. bye d." she closed the door leaving me a lil stunned. why was she acting weird? i mean i only have had a few interactions with her but this one was different. "what's with her?" dina hummed lowly, "poor thing. she got dumped today." i debated telling dina about this mornings interruption with my sleep, but i decided against it. the situation must complicated, better to stay out of it.

...

dina and i wrapped up after i was done with my tea. now i was back at my apartment, getting giddy as dina's party was approaching.

for tonight, i decided on a black sleeve that just so happens to be showing just a little lil cleavage. and the usual jeans, with my only puffy jacket. should be good. i was going to be late if i didn't leave now so i hurried out the door.

...

i opened the door to an unknown smell. it smelled pungent and earthy. i took my jacket and scarf off and out of 20ish people i spotted dina in a corner with jesse. while making my way towards them i saw ellie, she was with someone and they looked both upset. that must be the girlfriend. ellie, was dressed in a black tee shirt and some rough jeans. her hair pulled back half up half down. her eyebrows furrowed as she looked frustrated. i squeezed my thighs together as i took in her muscles peeking out of the shirt.

"hey y/n!" dina called out to me, interrupting my staring. she was smiling bright as always. when i got into earshot i asked, "what's that smell?" she giggled, "its weed for the party, ellie got it. have you tried some before? ask her for some." dina and i looked over to ellie in unison, where she was still arguing with her girlfriend. then dina winced, "well maybe ask later. you want a beer in the meantime? we also got some tequila over in the kitchen." i smiled, "i'm feeling tequila. i'll be back." when entering the kitchen i spotted the liquor and poured myself a lil shot, i shot it back feeling the liquor wash down my throat. i felt immediately warmer and excited. then music started to play in the other room and everyone started to dance. i happily joined in and started to dance with dina. a busty bass song came on and we were both feeling it. "fuck yeah!" dina screamed. we both moved our hips and swung our bodies around to the beat. but then my dancing got interrupted when i felt the need to pee. well fuck. i partially yelled at dina, "i need to pee! wheres the bathroom?" dina pointed down a darker hallway and i made my way over there, weaving through people. i spotted a door, this must be it. the door was unlocked and upon opening...i find ellie. she was leaning on the counter when i bursted in looking dazed at the wall. she, surprised, said "what the fuck?" i gulped and sheepishly looked back on the ground. shit.

"oh sorry. i didn't know it was being used." i maintained looking at the floor (hoping she didn't think im a creep) while i was shutting the door. then she stopped my attempt by grabbing the edge and said "no go ahead. i'm not using it anyway." she eyed me as i rushed in, "thank you thank you!" once she got out, i slammed the door and rushed over to the toilet. i sighed as the feeling of relief washed over me. thank fuck. it felt like 2 minutes of peeing but maybe it's because i was tipsy.

when i was done washing up i opened the door and ellie was still standing there. it was an awkward second of just her eyes staring into mine until she opened her mouth to a lit joint. i watched her take a puff in and then she offered it to me. "you want some?" i nodded. the joint, in between her pointer and middle passed to me. her skin brushed against mine and i licked my lips nervously. i eyed her hands, which looked rough with little scars scattered them. her eyes train on me as i brought the joint up and took a puff in just like she did. it was heavy in my chest when inhaling. i looked at her before exhaling and then released the smoke. huh. that wasn't so hard.

her mouth was slightly agape and her eyes were low. then she smirked a little bit, "i thought you'd cough." if i had been sober i would of been offended but i took this as a compliment instead. i smiled and then took another puff. i hummed at the feeling. i think i like this. i offered the joint back to her and looked over at the end of the hall where everyone was dancing. the music vibrated through the walls and it was started to become muffled. i felt relaxed, and my brain started to tingle. i laughed under my breath, this feels weird. ellie chuckled and smiled, "you're fucking high." i started to laugh. "shit maybe i am." silence took over the both of us and we were content with leaning on the walls outside of the bathroom. i looked at her. her eyes were trained on the ground, deep in thought. "can i ask you a question?" i said. she hummed and looked back up at me, "shoot." she took another puff. maybe it was the liquor courage had but i was curious. despite it not being my business it felt like this was my only time to say it.

"i know this isn't my business...but what's going on between you and that other girl?" i didn't know what to expect for a response maybe she'd get mad and tell me to fuck off or punch me. but she didn't, instead she furrowed her brows, "why?" i sighed (partly in relief), "i saw you when i got here. you looked upset." yeah i saw her, practically ogled her actually. her face was unreadable for a second or two. then she took a deep breath, "she broke up with me today because she's been seeing someone else. her name was cat." oh. her eyes looked down. then she licked her lips and bit down on them. i blurted, "i'm sorry." feeling a since of regret from asking. she started to laugh, holding the joint in one hand and the other pinching the bridge of her nose. she slowly stopped and looked at me, "sorry, i just i don't know why i told you. i mean i don't even know you." i laughed at that. "yeah i guess that doesn't really make sense."

she was still smiling but looked down. the more i looked at her the more features i noticed. her eyes especially drew in my attention, she had long lashes and her eyes were really fucking pretty. shades of hazel and green. her scar on her eyebrow suited her a lot. and her lips. they were the perfect plump pink lips and they also had a barley visible scar. a strand of hair fell in front of her face. i had the urge to tuck it back and kiss her but i didn't. my trance was interrupted by her eyes flicking back up at mine. but they didn't stop at my eyes. they stopped at the base of my shirts v neck. i saw her chest rise as she took a long inhale in. she stopped staring and adjusted her posture. i could see her ears turn a shade to red when she looked up at my face. she cleared her throat and was about to say something but got interrupted by a sudden noise in the room where everybody was. it sounds like someone broke something. we both started to walk towards the commotion trying to get an idea of what happened. someone had broke the coffee table. jesse was evidently mad and dina didn't seem to be that upset. i heard a "fuck" under her breath. when i turned to her she was leaving. i watched her back as she moved through the crowd. i didn't reach out or say anything.

hang in tight. pt.3 will be a wild one. and i promise you smut:-)

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams imagine #tlou2

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aleksa-sims · 2 months

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RL Story

CW: pregnancy, addiction, break-up

2 weeks later...

I was on my way home. There was a kind of pumpkin- or autumn festival in the park, although it wasn't actually even really autumn? 🧐 Anyway! That's why I decided to go through the park today.

As I passed some autumn stands, I suddenly saw Daniel with a girl.😱 I quickly turned around/back, to hid somewhere on the side. Still, I risked another look because.... somehow I couldn’t believe it. But yea, there he was, with a girl!!😢 ... It hurt me sm to see him with her. I gotta get away, I thought!!! I felt really sick that moment.🤢 In RL, there was a Mc Donald's just a few steps away. So I rushed there to go to the toilet. But.... holly shit!! That damn Mc Donalds!!! I ran into a huge glass door!!! 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️😄I thought it was open. Yup! SOO embarrassing!! However, after I peed, I got back out. As I was walking out the door, Daniel was standing there. With lowered eyes, I tried to pass him unnoticed but....

Daniel: Hi!... What are you doing here? Are you alone?

Me: Don't you remember? Today is Tuesday! I just had class. I'm going home. 😞

Daniel: Yea... Did you see me earlier? I felt like I was being watched.

Me: YES! I saw you! That sucks, yk?😫 .... Ugh, I- I wasn’t prepared to see you.... here today with your new.... crush. How about you sign the divorce papers? 😒😢

Daniel: Sorry..... I'm on it. Ok?... I gotta go.

Me: Wait!

Daniel: You weep? 😕

Me: M-my hormones are... runnig wild. Yk?

Daniel: Are you... ok? You and, your baby?

Me: We're fine. Thanks.... But-... Daniel! I-... 😥

Daniel: What?

Me: I-... I wanna be with you.... I miss you. I-... I know it's not right, but-

Daniel: In all seriousness......... You gotta be kidding me? 🤨

Me: No, I don't! I love you. And I also miss Lucky. Pls take me to him.... Why did you hurt me so much? I wanted to stay with you. You promised to always stay by my side, didn't you? Instead, you broke up with me. That was the worst thing you did to me. I thought I was dying this summer.... Now you're with that...-

Daniel: It’s over! I don’t listen to this shit! You, know why I didn’t want you near me anymore.

Me: Tell me damn it!! What have I done to you??? 🤷‍♀️😧

Daniel: No! Listen! If you wanna see Lucky, we.... can find a solution. I moved. I'll call you.... Bye!

Me: You moved??????????? Noo, Daniel! What happened to our apartment? 😢Why didn't you tell me? I loved this place....

Daniel: I couldn’t stand it there! And all your stuff... Almost everything in our apartment reminded me of you. I couldn't handle it.... .. you........ completely destroyed me. 😞

Me: No, please don't go! I wanna go with you D.

Daniel: .... Damn.

Me: Why don’t you want me anymore? It's bcs I'm hooked??... We can stay clean together. 😢💔

Daniel: Go home to your-... to him. 😞😒

Me: But I love you both. We can still be together....

I talked so much crap. I really wanted to prevent Daniel from going back to that girl. I know that was totally selfish of me. But I didn’t give a shit! I just didn’t understand why he dumped me?? My pregnancy wasn’t a prob for him, so what did I do wrong?? And that girl who accompanied him, got me SO pissed! She was at Mc Donald’s too, but I didn’t see her there, when I went out. Anyway, she came back. She saw Daniel and me talking...

Girl: Hey, sweetie... Ahhm who is that?

Daniel: Yk? I still got some things to do. We should table this.

Girl: So now what?... Don't you want me?... This is your chance to get me....🤫 laid, baby. Now or never? 😏

Daniel: Well, that may be, but... anyway.

Girl: Huh? Where are you even looking? What's going on here? And who ist that fat girl?

Me: We are married! (dumb bitch) 🤨And I'm pregnant!

Daniel: Yea that's true, but it's not my baby!

Girl: I'm not stupid, sweetheart! I should have gone with your brother, but I thought you were the cute one. You with your green eyes and...hm? You have preety teeth, by the way.

Me: 🤢🙉

Daniel: Fine, just call Alex! I’m sure he can still.... schedule you somewhere in between. 😬

Girl: You’re serious, aren’t you?

Daniel: Listen, maybe later, ok? But, I gotta go now. Sorry.

Daniel just left. I have no idea where he was going or what he was up to? So I also went home, to..... Nico. 😬🤦‍♀️And tomorrow morning, I’ll go to Daniel. He texted me at 1:00 a.m. I couldn’t help it, I went to see him and I also wanted to see Lucky again. ❤️🐱

Previous/Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #ts 4 story #rl story #myrlgameplay #cw pregnancy

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veritable-trash · 1 year

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"I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me” with Santiago Garcia?

HAHAHAHAHAHA I SUCK!!!!

i'm so sorry that i've left this just sitting around for ages but i literally have had zero inspiration and honestly even what i wrote still feels a bit shitty but i could not leave this in my inbox forever because you my lovely icon legend deserve some santi meal time because this prompt................ i am sweating goddamn

anywaysssss please enjoy the nastiness that i have unleashed on this fine wednesday and thank you for sending this to me and i hope you love it <333333333

also this unedited and i didn't even reread it because the writers block has been so ugly i just can't set myself up like that so forgive if it's not the cleanest of things ok anyways bye enjoy :)))))

18+ below the cut minors don't engage because duh

(warnings: overstimulation, santi being a horny beautiful man, fingering)

Hard headed, cocky, insufferable, and yet you couldn’t keep yourself from gravitating to him. Falling into his charm and wicked smile whenever he blew into town and reminded you exactly why you kept coming back.

“I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me, hm?”

You had to choke back a whine. The bar was sticky and hot from the summer heat and Santiago wasn’t helping with how he had you pressed up against the wall in the hallway to the bathroom. It had been the same game tonight as always. Stolen glances, batted eyelashes, you both knew where it was all going to end and yet he still knew how to catch you on unstable ground when he said shit like that.

“Santi-”

He had the fucking audacity to chuckle, to nip at the hinge of your jaw and cut off all coherent thought for the rest of the evening. You could feel him, hard and aching pressing up against your hip, and your nails dug sharp into his shoulders. The groan he left etched into the skin of your throat didn’t help the state either of you were in.

“Lets go home, cariño, let me make you feel good, yeah?”

He punctuated the sentence with a bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder and your knees wobbled. All you could do was breathe out a yes.

~~~~~

It had to be hours, honestly maybe even days, and you weren’t sure if your body could take anymore of his goddamn games.

“Come on baby, open your eyes, look at you, god baby look at how fucking wet you are, fuck.”

He’d made due on his promise. Spread you out in front of his mirror, sitting on his lap, your legs spread wide over his thighs as he played with your cunt. It was sloppy and wet and depraved and you were shaking like a leaf in a tornado but it all felt so fucking good.

You’d lost track of how many times you’d cum on his fingers, the way he switched from deep, slow thrusts, to slapping your clit till your eyes were edged with tears, your head was scrambled from wanting to cower away from the pleasure and drown in it.

Your eyes slowly opened as his fingers kneed at the flesh of your thighs, grounding you after the orgasm that felt like it had lasted an hour. You groaned at the sight before you.

You looked a mess. Chest heaving, thighs twitching under his hands, pussy fucked open and weeping on full display to you and the man tearing you apart. You could barely even look at Santi with how his glazed, hungry eyes devoured every inch of you laid out for him like a meal.

He licked the sweat off your shoulder before bitting down gently and gliding three fingers back into your cunt. His other arm had to hold you up as you almost caved in on yourself with the sensation.

“I know baby, I know, but just one more for me like this and then I’ll give you my cock, just one more for me baby."

hehehe short and sweet baby for my favorite baby i love this man when will i have him???????

#look at this lovely little person giving me a lovely little prompt that i wrote nasty things to!!!!!#all is right with the world #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago gracia x you #santiago pope garcia x you #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic

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afaramir · 2 months

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hiiii denethor anon here!! wow you’re really IN IT now (denethorposting). not to add more fuel to your anger but last week i saw someone say they hated denethor. and i just realised god they don’t get him even on tumblr do they. since then i’ve been silently fuming in rage. anyway… i am very Very Intrigued by both your faramir-goes-to-rivendell-au and denethor-thorongil relationship (if you ever want to write another 800 words about this, i am here for it 👀) and this line “each of them sharpens himself upon the whetstone of the other…” fuck. fucking insane actually.

unfortunately i won’t be replying for several days (i’ve had to keep my phone in another room to keep myself from getting distracted) . my exams have started AND i’m going through some shit irl :( it’s alright tho i’ll have more Faramir and Denethor Hours soon <- chanting this constantly haha. but i am with you when denethorposting IN SPIRIT okay. oh and can we please please please have denethor december? 🙏 bye will be here soon after my exams (that will be after the 23rd march i’m afraid)

hiii denethor anon <333 i am SO sorry this is so late truly attempting to figure out how to write AND see my friends AND do things like clean my apartment and go to the grocery store while working The Job...it has eaten my life. and this week my regular coffee shop switched their hours bc i live in my old college town and they are on spring break and it has sent me directly to hell. the death of My Routine…i have coped by INCESSANTLY denethorposting on tumblr dot com. i am somehow EVEN MORE in it than i was when you sent this ask. i hope you enjoy me being truly crazyinsane whenever you get a chance to look at all those posts lol. would love 2 hear your thoughts on them. but ANYWAY as always it is so lovely to see you, i'm sorry things have been tough but truly with my whole heart i bestow upon you the strength of denethor's sixty-year psychic war (with none of the associated madness) to make it through. looking at the date i hope you are free now.

here is the mandated readmore because i have never met brevity in my whole life. u said write another 800 words and i took that as a challenge um this post is like 2000 words. well...back on my bullshit

i mean this with all the love and joy in my heart but i laughed so much. no my dear friend they do not get him on tumblr. they have not gotten him on tumblr from the beginning. if you have been spared the incessant tomato jokes i truly…[crying] I Wish I Were You So Bad. this guy doesnt even know about the tumblr denethor slander (POSITIVE) (YEARNING). its the trenches out here for real. i just live in my little bubble with me and you and like four other mutuals/Denethor Understanders and that is it.

speaking of denethor and the rivendell au. i miss the days when i was working on the faramir-in-gondor scenes. emotionally it felt like dying but i kind of knew what was going on. now i am in rivendell taking and failing this history of middle earth exam. and i am so very….the next time we see denethor for real is in return of the king. now girl…how will i survive another 80k words. i miss my boy my dear darling my tortured victim of the narrative. and according to the paragraph i just wrote faramir does too but is Refusing to admit it to himself<3

im also RIDICULOUSLY torn on how i want to resolve his arc. now just between you and me. and anyone who bothers to click that read more. I DONT WANT TO KILL HIM I WANT HIM TO LIVE. GOD I WANT HIM TO LIVE. I WILL WRITE YOU A THOUSAND HAPPY ENDINGS. except its not a happy ending its a you are not allowed to die you are forced to contend with your choices you must keep living ending. because he will always be tragic no matter what. but its ALSO a you can rest now you can be at peace son of gondor you have won your war. all you sacrificed has been worth it. you have given your all when that's what duty asked you for and it has been enough. and that makes my poor heart weep.

like on one hand the idea of resolving his storyline with faramir.......the opportunity for some kind of reconciliation, some kind of understanding between them...god. delicious. i know in my heart that faramir comes home and IS the lord that denethor once dreamed of being. not playing at it...he is high and lordly and gentle and the world bends around his will and he knows exactly what to bow to and when to stand his ground and his powers are honed to a keen edge that he uses with the utmost care and. AUGH. he walks into the citadel the IMAGE of his father. it makes me feel FERAL. and how would denethor react to that. man.

BUT ON THE OTHER HAND HOW DO I END THE STORY. like. LOL. do u know what i mean. likelihood of me being able to just have a triumphant coronation and tie it all up with a bow is soooo small. the narrative contortions i would have to go through. to have denethor accept that and still be in character. Girl....no thank u <3 so we havent worked THAT out yet. like how much of the madness and despair do i want to put into the narrative. We Shall See. IM not politically savvy enough to get real into the weeds with it all so im kind of rotating just. a beautiful set of reunions with the fellowship. eowyn and faramir get engaged. boromir and faramir see all their dreams of a gondor restored come true. we skate over the political minefield and deeply navigate the beginnings of denethor and faramir's relationship in this new world. and among it all, within it all, is hope, and a new dawn. and curtain.

i got distracted but re: we are in rivendell. it IS kind of fun to think about the themes and narratives. i am pushing my Let Faramir (And Denethor) Be Numenorean + Let Numenoreans Be Weird agendas so so sooo hard and i am having the time of my life with that specifically. birds follow him around and pick up the tunes he sings. he hears the voices of the people he loves in his head. he falls into a river and after having a breakdown about it promptly decides that The River Is Testing Him And He Has Passed. he gets to rivendell and INSTANTLY knows that there is someone Very Like Him Here (its elrond. the elrond-elros-faramir connection has me FROTHING at the mouth. faramir looks at elrond and sees his father and sees every statue of elros in minas tirith and Knows that this here is the son of earendil, gil-estel, his brightest north star. elrond looks at faramir and sees his brother, his dear dead doomed brother, and every numenorean descended from him and all their sins and all their glories and yet, kind as summer, sees beauty and knowledge and a strange quiet man who carries all the weight of his country on his shoulders and yet knows him, knows the legends; perhaps the blood of numenor is not yet spent in the south)

i just think that Every Elf that meets faramir along the way is like woah...hold up. there's something up with THIS guy! men ARENT supposed to do that! not anymore anyway! galadriel is Lowkey Threatened by him. and isnt that beautiful. woman who could be queen of the earth sees god's special chosen boy and goes hang on a minute. Fuck. i think they work out their shit by the time the company leaves lothlorien but like...just thinking about how faramir lowkey blamed her for boromir's death in rotk! idk how their dynamic is exaclty gonna manifest but there's definitely some sort of similar mindreader2mindreader tension!

AND. um the idea of faramir travelling with the fellowship discovering that maybe...well. he has never wanted to be a warrior but he has been honed into a blade anyway. by his father and by necessity. and perhaps for the first time in his life...outside of gondor he does not need to be all that. he can be mithrandir's pupil without censure he can be scholarly and witty and cunning - he is all these things, in gondor. but there he has to be them, and now he can discover that yes, this is what he wants to be. and he has never let his father and the expectations of his position STOP him but there is always a weight, there is always the knowledge that your actions are disapproved of, and being away from that for a while is i just think. really good for him. see above re: he comes home the image of his father in a gentler time. keep honking im sitting in my car crying about denethor ii twenty sixth steward of gondor.jpg (<- my greatest creation PLEASE click the link lol)

ALSO IM THRILLED YOU LIKED THAT WHETSTONE LINE LOL i kind of blacked out when i typed it on the page. i think truly the crazy thing about denethor and faramir is that they SHOULD understand each other. they know so much about each other and yet are so incompetent at actually putting it to any good use towards, you know, improving their relationship. faramir is incredibly emotionally intelligent AND can read minds AND has taken so many of what he probably views as denethor's worst traits and turned them to gentler uses. (im talking about his powers but im ALSO talking about that thing he does when he encounters frodo and sam where he plays woe is me my brother is dead and i miss him sooo much to get on their good sides. yes of course he misses boromir more than anything else in the world. no he is not above using it to his advantage. and we see the SAME THING when gandalf and pippin come to minas tirith. hey isn't it crazy that both of them use boromir as a. manipulation chip. even after he's dead. hey thats kind of fucked up actually!) and denethor is…well denethor is denethor. ok im mostly messing around and thought that sentence was funny. i think he Knows most everything that goes on in faramir's head and yet Wilfully Chooses to interpret it in the worst ways because its just soo....very I Thought I Raised You Better Than That/I Honed You To Be My Blade Stop Defying Me. and despite all that the Problem is that they understand each other right up until they don't. they know how THEY feel about each other (incredible love that they can only express in the worst ways/think they're expressing only to be spurned by the other) but cannot POSSIBLY imagine that the other feels the same way.

ive gone on for SO SO LONG ALREADY LOL but. what do i have to say about denethor and thorongil. not enough and too much all at once. they're so toxic and awful for each other they're MADE for each other they're beautiful narrative parallels they're homoerotic besties they're bitter rivals they're pawns in a proxy war they're locked at all times in a psychic psychosexual situationship. um the enemy of my enemy is kissing me with tongue. idk i have more symbolism and actual analysis especially of the denethor-ecthelion-thorongil Issue. but we are just getting into it. so i will start with the situations bc i have two angles for this. on one hand i do think it is very fun if they constantly homoerotically circle each other for years and years and never do a THING about it. like...this is a stitching up wounds wiping blood off each others faces battle couple/situationship situation that THEN turns into a ridiculously high functioning political rival partnership bent together over books long into the night catching each others eye in council meetings using their very real disdain for each other for Manipulation Purposes and getting uh. SO hot over it. like.....Do You Know What I Mean. just. truly unresolved sexual tension THROUGH THE ROOF. it DELIGHTS me. they are always putting themselves in situations. and then NOT making out about it. AND THEY CAN READ EACH OTHERS MINDS!! THE WHOLE TIME!! SO THEY KNOW EXACTLY HOW MUCH THEY WANT EACH OTHER AND STILL ARENT DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT!!! like thats just really good. but on the other hand.......the idea of just an absolutely terrible beautiful toxic rivals with benefits codependent situationship. i hate you so much and you know what we DO need to make out about it. every time they fuck it is a power play and they are having SO much fun with it. they will both start arguments with each other (AND IN PUBLIC TOO) just so they can fight and make up. the mind reading...Oh You Know What I Mean. taylor swift voice we had this big white city all to ourselves we blocked the noise with the sound of i need you and for the first time i had something to lose! logically thorongil is not yet in his grubby ranger era but the idea of him being dirt smeared all the time and hanging out with prim proper polished denethor. in the fic (which does exist and DOES follow the second model) theres a scene where hes just chilling with his head in denethor's lap and denethor is actually rather delighted and devoting ALL of his copious braincells to pretending not to be. Man. well never say im not a slut for contrast. and now the rest of what i could say is simply straight up redacted for indecency so it is time for this post to be over. the last thing i have to say is that it absolutely ruins denethor's life forever when thorongil up and leaves. sometimes a situationship....anyway. MUCH LOVE TO YOU AS ALWAYS yes we will have denethor december i already have an url saved.

#from the inbox #Anonymous #denethor anon #WAIT I PROMISE ILL TALK MORE ABOUT DENETHOR AND THORONGIL NEXT TIME BUT THE POST WAS ALREADY TWO THOUSAND WORDS #I HAD TO CUT MYSELF SHORT A BIT. I HAVE A LOT MORE TO SAY LOL #i hope this ridiculously long post made up for the THREE WEEKS it took me to reply<3 #denethorposting #<- funnily this IS the url i have saved. for denethor december. life is beautiful

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sunattacksthemoon · 1 year

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I’m going to write what I think while I reread crimson rivers

So first of I’m not starting at the beginning if I’m being completely honest I haven’t cr in quite literally months because I….. I forgot to include a warning for like major spoilers. One sec.

Spoilers!!!!!!

Don’t fucking read this if you haven’t read crimson rivers!! Please for the love of the gods listen to me bc I will not be held responsible for spoiling. Like if you tell me I spoiled something for you I will feel immeasurable guilt.

Anyways so I haven’t read past the part where regulus meets the fucking death eaters in the beginning parts of the second games. Like they are about to go in but haven’t yet?? I hope that makes sense but I haven’t read it in awhile because frankly I’m a little bitch. I’m waiting til they are all happy and the wars over. I’m going to be starting the new chapters today because they are finally happy. But I reread my fav parts, essentially every wolfstar part in the early chapters because I’m an absolute whore for them. They just fill my brain with happiness. So I decided to reread the chapters and then eventually just started rereading the first games instead of just skipping till it’s Remus or Sirius’s pov. And I was bombarded with the absolute heartbreak of it all. Like I cant remember when Zar said this but he mentioned in a post that mulciber and Avery were actually boyfriends and don’t get me wrong I Do Not like them but that shit hurts. I think people genuinely forget that none of them should have been in the arena in the first place. Like with original books they have their version of the death eaters ( I can’t remember what the called them) like Cato, but I remember watching the movies with my family and everyone absolutely hating on him. But like he was a kid raised to be a little assassin. I’m a self-proclaimed Cato apologist till I die. But I don’t like people just hating them, especially Peter. Like I love how Zar wrote his character because he is so fucking interesting. Like I could write about him for hours.

Moving on. I don’t know when to do transitions so I hope that was seamless.

This part destroyed me in the best possible way. I don’t have children so I can’t even begin to imagine what this felt like, but learning that all their fighting was to get back home to their partner and have a family is heartbreaking. And when reg and James are doing the tour and they learn about it is just ughhh. I cannot put it into words.

Now this scene hurts for an entirely different reason. I am a sucker for happy endings. I really am, that’s genuinely all I want. Like to the point I don’t usually read angst, hence why I have taken a break from reading until they are somewhat happy again. The fact that James is so hopeful one second and then he is utterly heartbroken the next makes me weep. I felt this, like with my whole being. Which is so fucking cool that Zar has that ability with their writing to cause such pain. So round of applause for them👏👏

That’s pretty much it, I will be making another post about Sirius’s talk with Remus about desire because it’s a must. I might make more for jegulus’s relationship idk.

Okay uh bye 🤘

#fic: crimson rivers by zeppazariel #spoilers #sunny is reading again

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bratkin · 9 months

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Remember When the Seasons Change?

Remember when the seasons change Some seasons, like some women, are prettier than others. Winter can be lovely when ice covers trees so the landscape looks like an enchanted fairy palace put under the spell of the Queen of Ice Maidens. I’ve seen our fences looking like the beautiful petticoats my grandmother used to wear on Sunday. Those special petticoats always had handmade lace, either tatted or crocheted at the hemline and were always sparkling white. When the ice forms on fences it has that same pristine appearance And so winter reminds me of a lovely old lady with white hair, white lace trimmed petticoats, and white hair and gracious ways. Spring is so changeable and capricious it makes me think of a very young girl who can be laughing and gay one moment and weeping for no reason the next. Haven’t you seen April days like that? The day begins with sunshine and a flirtatious breeze flips the new spring green leaves and grass. Then the sun hides its face and the clouds weep and I’m reminded of that small girl chld. Ah, but summer is certainly a teenager. Full of activity, sassy, hot and soon changed into a grown woman. Then fall comes. Everyone likes fall. Weather moderates and the landscape shows the loveliest colors. But think about it, doesn’t all that color really make you think of a bawdy – middle – aged woman who is over dressed and clothes that are two outrageous for a woman her age? Someone trying not to look her age and not succeeding? But we love her anyway We are in the dog days of summer. What in the world does it mean dog days? Do any of you know how they came to be called that? We have likely seen the last of the really hot weather associated with our summers here in Arkansas. I am ready for the mums to be placed by the front door, outdoor fires to become popular, lightweight jackets or sweaters to be needed at night, and all the other old so comfortable things that go with fall. Actually I set out to write something humorous or interesting and all I could come up with in my little P sized brain was this. Please come back to my page another time and perhaps I will have written something funny or uplifting which is actually my goal. Bye now!

#memories #nostalgia

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ducknotinarow · 1 year

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So Splinter's death is it just like in the show? and how dose Raph go about his grief and loss? What about Mikey as well? Do either of them spiral out over it? how are they effected basically?

So first off please keep in mind I never fully saw season four I am currently re-watching the show so i can see it in full. I know how Splinter died cause of tiktok mostly XDD anyway Imma break this up to better organize this answer.

So Splinter's death is it just like in the show? Yes. I know Splinter came in and helped Raph and April after Slash and Casey got taken out of the fight. Made to seem he one only to get stabbed suddenly by Shredder and thrown off a building. So yes Im just sticking with what the show did mostly cause mor enightmare fuel for Raphie uwu

and how dose Raph go about his grief and loss? As Raph dose a lot he'll brush it off as much as possible in terms of how hurt he is. I did write a snippet about Raph having a moment to have his good bye in sense [here] over all he's not going to show his grief much in the open. When it was still fresh and he's alone he rages and cries he blames himself alot and sort of punishing himself. Once that passes. He'll keep busy patrolling more often, training and such but he seems to have lost intrest in his hobbies. The pencil and pens haven't been touched. His drums are getting dusty. He keeps to himself most often. He's hurting he dosent sprail but you can tell he is hurting. Take him a long time to even speak about Splinter at all let alone in the past tense. He never gose into thier room either its a need of doubt for him, if that door is shut then maybe he'll come back he knows how dumb that sounds and childish but it's a protective measure for himself.

What about Mikey as well?

Mikey was openly hurt and weeping over Splinter. And I feel he held himself together because they had a to get revenge after that. But once all was said and done? Mikey locked himself up in his room for a week stirght no one was allowed inside he just needed and wanted to be alone. Once he finally comes out his eyes were clearly showing signs he done nothing but cried. He seeks to be around his brothers after that. As much as they will let him or seem to be comfortable with he knkws they are all hurting after all. He likely picks up on thier own changes after time went on.

Happy to talk about them when ever he can because he's want to keep thier memory alive he has a bad habit for a bit for making enough food for Splinter too. He will actually go into Splinter room never when Raphs around. He likes to feel connected to them.

Do either of them spiral out over it? how are they effected basically?

I wouldn't say either of them spiraled out over all. They both go about it in different ways. Mikeys more able to accept it and openly express his grief. Raph yeah he's hurting clearly but he's more quite about it all keepingnit to himself. Mikey finds a way to seems fine again sooner but he's not he's still hurting but he knows life gose one. Raph just has to process a bit more emotions are not always what he handles best.

Raph just works best when he can shift his focus else where. Mikey on the other hand needs to allowed to express how he feels.

#muse| hamato michelangelo #muse| hamato rapheal #anon asks

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ardynleaf · 2 years

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Chapter Two is here! The next update should be coming within a week. Please let me know what you think. :) Here are the first two chapters combined:

Like the Ashes of Ash I Saw Rise in the Heat

True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree - A willow dancing on air before covering me

Chestnut colored hair pulled back into an elegant braid, olive skin made vibrant by the sun. The odd patches where the skin grafts come together all blend in, making her look whole again. Her eyes are like wells of starlight, pulling me in and leaving me frozen.

Katniss is smiling, something that would have been rare to see before these last couple weeks. I find my lips twitching up in turn from where I stand on my porch across the street. She doesn’t seem to see me, but there is a certain lightness in her step that I haven’t seen before. Maybe because we are finally free.

My eyes follow her as she skips up the stairs, a loud creak coming from the old planks of her porch. She adjusts her game bag on her shoulder and her hand is just pushing down on the door handle when she suddenly tenses. She turns, and our eyes meet.

Without any conscious thought, I find myself raising my hand and twitching my hand in an awkward wave.

I only returned a month ago and she still doesn’t seem to know how to cross the barrier between us that is seemingly impossible to traverse safely. I’ve tried myself several times, leaving her bread in the mornings, planting flowers in front of her house. And yet she still evades me.

This is the first time she has really looked ever since I came back. I find myself getting lost in the endless silver void of her eyes. And that warmth in my chest floods in, the one that has haunted me for so long. I am drowning in it.

I think it is love. All it takes is her gentle, almost hesitant wave back for me to know it’s true.

Under cotton and calicos over canopy dapple long ago - True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me

Dr. Aurelius recommended that we form routines. One of my first ones to develop was calling Prim every day after dinner. So far it’s been the easiest one to maintain, as she always has so much energy to give me.

It’s refreshing considering how numb I find myself feeling by evening. Today is one of the harder days, where I find myself drifting between memories of the past. Specifically of Peeta, who has been close and yet impossibly far since his hijacking. I find myself relieved when I pick up the phone and immediately upon dialing Prim begins chattering to me. I can’t keep my signature scowl on for long.

“Katniss! You’ll never believe what happened today. At school we worked on applying sutures and the teacher used me as an example, and Mom let me help at the hospital, and-”

”Hey there, Little Duck.” My laugh is light and airy, surprising both of us. I can practically see her smile when she responds.

“Quack.”

“Primrose, who are you talking to? We have plans with the Hawthornes, remember?” Mom. A tense silence ensues, and for once Prim fumbles for a response. I don’t think they wanted me to know that they are still so close with Gale’s family. They might have been quick to forgive him for helping design the bombs that almost killed Prim, but I cannot find it in myself to do so. It was alright in the end, but it still stings like a bitter betrayal. Which is fitting, considering how much he changed during the Rebellion.

“Katniss-”

”It’s okay, Primrose. Have fun; don’t worry about me. I - um- already had plans anyway. I’ll call you tomorrow after dinner.” The words rush out of me, almost without permission. I do not want to let her go, but if I don’t I fear that I will find myself in a painful conversation with my mother.

“Okay. Tell Peeta I say hi. And if you see Buttercup, will you please give him a treat?” Her voice comes out strained, and I grimace knowing that Mom is going to want an explanation.

”Uh, yeah. Of course. Love you, bye.” I do not let the call go on any longer, slamming the receiver down as quickly as possible. I have to fist my palms to keep myself from biting my nails for relief.

Peeta. I have not talked to him since he got back, not really. A few waves and tentative hellos, but never so much as small talk. Thoughts of him consume me during the day but I find myself avoiding having to interact with him. All because whatever easy banter we once had died along with a part of me that last night of the Quarter Quell. It is easier to pretend that nothing has changed when I do not face it.

And yet, I still find myself waking and reaching for him across cold sheets. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone in years.

That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree - Must be felled for to fight the cold

The episodes aren’t nearly so common now compared to what they had been during the Capitol siege. But I still find myself consumed by images that I know to be not real when I let my guard down.

The flashbacks are the main excuse I give myself for not talking to Katniss. Because even though I never feel the urge to kill her anymore, I don’t think that I can bear to have her see me like that. The eyes that look back at me in the mirror scare me, so I can only imagine how she would react.

Mostly because I simply cannot predict what she would do. But I hope it would be like that kiss in the sewers.

Since I struggle so to approach her in person, I give her little gifts instead. Bread every morning, sometimes a flower or two, little knickknacks. Sometimes I even treat myself by watching her open the door from my window. She always gets a soft smile but I duck behind the curtains before she can see me watching her.

I never see her approach my house, but somehow I will find little parcels of meat sitting in ice on the porch. They are welcome surprises, even if we get regular deliveries of groceries from the train. After all, I have developed a taste for fresh squirrel.

Dr. Aurelius tells me to try not to disturb her routines too often. But he also presses the issue of our… distance.

It's been almost 2 months now. So I force myself to open the dusty family recipe book that has sat unneeded in the pantry since my father passed it on to me for safe keeping. I have avoided it since my return, as I find that if I let it it will leave me in a trance.

There are so many recipes that I don't remember how to make. I find myself pulling out ingredients, but not knowing where to even start. One of the only things I can make now is simple rye bread. And yet I avoid the recipes as though they will bring the wrath of the ghosts of 12 upon me. But I need them for what I want to make today.

Cheese buns. She loves them; she makes a cute little moan every time she bites into one-

I miss getting to see her, being able to bask in her presence. Or rather, whatever version exists in this peaceful state of purgatory. She was always quiet, but the silence between us is so loud that I cannot hear anything else.

This is my attempt to breach the gap, an olive branch. To prove to her that not all of me is gone, that I have not forgotten her. And fine, maybe to prove it to myself, too.

Spring is turning into summer, and when I open the front door I am hit by the warmth of a sunny day. Today will be a good day, I can feel it. Brushing a hand through my hair, I look down at the basket of cheese buns in my hands and the little note that I left her inside.

I invited Haymitch to dinner if you want to come.

It is technically a lie considering that I haven’t asked Haymitch anything, but I’ll drag him to my house kicking and screaming if it means she’ll come.

After I cross the gravel path between our houses, I remember the creaky plank on her porch and carefully avoid it. It’s second nature at this point to do things that will keep her from seeing me drop off her bread. For weeks I have held out, not wanting to be the one to change our status quo.

I set the basket down and put my hands in my pockets and walk back to my house briskly, forcing myself to not lose my nerve. There is a vague sense of panic and all I can think about is the risk of that invitation, but I force myself to go through with it. For her.

I collapse into the armchair in my sitting room and flip through a book unseeing. My time is measured in idle motions, spurred on by a will to live that I am not sure I have anymore. Katniss doesn't need me. Not anymore.

I am on the cusp of sleep when it happens. Knock, knock. My prosthetic protests my getting up, but I cannot help but hope that it is her. In a rush, I throw the book down blindly behind me. When I finally reach the door, I am quick to throw it open. I regret it immediately, as it seems to have startled Katniss. She quickly puts her hands behind her back, but I do not miss the way they shake and the momentary look of panic in her eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” The answer comes to me like instinct, but she flinches as if I have physically struck her. Perhaps it’s something that old Peeta would have said. I will have to add it to my list of phrases to avoid.

“Um… thank you for the cheese buns.” Awkward as ever, her voice is hesitant and cracks at the end. But hearing her voice is a gift I have forgotten.

”You’re welcome. Were you- do you want to come inside?” This seems to stray from the way she planned this conversation going.

Try not to say anything that could alarm her, just let her come to you.

Too late for that master plan, Dr. Aurelius. She seems panicked for a moment, fumbling for a response. No, not a response. An excuse to flee the situation. It’s disappointing that she will not accept my offer, but I shouldn’t have expected anything different. Maybe I shouldn’t have offered in the first place.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry. Um… well, let me know if you ever have any special requests. Bye, Katniss.” This is painful. I tack on a weak smile at the end, but just before the door can latch, she stops me.

“I brought some venison for dinner tonight. I thought you might be sick of squirrel, and I caught a buck this morning. But we can have something else if you don’t want to. I mean, um whatever you want is fine. I can just go if you don’t want to do dinner tonight. I bet you’re busy and here I am bothering you-”

She is rambling something horrible, avoiding eye contact and rocking back and forth on her heels. It takes me a moment to realize that she doesn’t know what I want her to say.

”Katniss, venison sounds great. Thank you.” I muster up an understanding smile for her, but inside I am trying to pick apart what she said. She’s never been the most conversational, but I’m not sure talking to her has ever been this strange.

She’s autistic, Peeta. That’s why she struggles with social interactions. She doesn’t know where she stands with you anymore.

I take a deep breath and hope against hope that she cannot tell what I am thinking. She needs me to be supportive.

“Oh, okay. I’ll just- here.” She bites her lip and brings her hands back in front of her, thrusting a wax paper package towards me.

And that’s when it happens. It only takes a droplet of blood from the venison falling on her hands for my brain to lose it’s delicate sanity.

I fretted fire but that was long ago - and it’s not tonight, where I’m set alight - and I blink in sight of your blinding light

He brings both of his hands to his temples, grasping at his head. I see his pupils dilate, and the feeling of blood on my hand registers. He must be having an episode. Panicking, I quickly put down the steak and brush my hands on my pants furiously. But it’s too late; he’s in too deep.

He stumbles through the doorway, and as I reach out to stabilize him he throws himself away. He lands with a loud thump onto the hardwood floor. He shakes his head back and forth, as if trying to dislodge the thoughts from his mind. I am frozen, unsure of how to help him.

“Peeta, it’s not real. It’s okay; you’re okay. We’re in your house in Victor’s Village. Whatever you’re seeing didn’t happen. Everyone is safe and sound.” I do not register that I am speaking until I feel my voice break. He doesn’t seem to hear me.

Helplessly, I fall to my knees in front of him. When I lift my hand, he flinches but doesn’t grab at me when I bring it to his cheek. His breathing is heavy and I grab his chin, forcing his eyes to meet mine. I brush my thumbs gently across his cheekbones. I sing every song I can remember until recognition returns to his eyes. When I begin to pull away, he gently grabs my wrists and holds me in place.

“Keep singing?” His voice is quiet and broken, and I know that I cannot - will not - deny him anything. Sometimes he mumbles and hums along with me, but my lullabies slowly seem to bring him back to me.

“I’m sorry, Katniss.” He tells me this as the last song fades from my lips. His hands drop from mine, coming down to grip his knees instead. I shake my head and continue stroking his face. But I know that my silence does not tell him enough.

“It’s okay.” It feels like there is a spell cast over us. We do not break eye contact and I find myself resting my forehead against his. Something inside of me screams that I have missed this. Missed him.

It takes the sound of Haymitch cursing at his geese to break us from our collective revere. I drop my hands to my sides and quickly rush out. As a second thought, I look over my shoulder and call to him.

“I’ll see you at 6.” I rush into my house and lean against the front door as soon as it has closed. I feel as though my heart should be racing, as though I have escaped a great threat. But there is a peculiar feeling deep down inside of me. During an episode he could very well kill me, and yet I stayed with him.

And all I can think of is when I will see him next.

Oh, it’s not tonight, where you hold me tight - And the fire bright, let it blaze, alright

Dinner had been a quiet affair, as though we were walking on egg shells. Or at least, Peeta and I had been. Haymitch was his usual self, loud and cantankerous. The only thing about his presence that I appreciated was him staying long enough that Peeta and I would not be alone.

I do not know how to act anymore, or what to say. We are closer to strangers than we were the day we met.

It makes my heart ache, but I deny the urge to storm across the Village and spend the night with him. Because those arms are not safe anymore, not really. And he would not want me there besides.

So I treat myself to hot chocolate instead and force myself to sit in my living room and nurse on it instead. It goes against every fibre in my being, but I simply cannot cross this impenetrable line that separates us.

When I fall asleep, I am dream not of the horrors I have faced in waking but of the pleasures of sleep with him. His arms around me, holding me tight. His hand rubbing small circles on the small of my back. His breath on my head, the beat of his heart.

His, his, his.

I wake and want for him desperately, but he is not in reach. And I yearn not for his comfort, but for him. It alarms me, but I console myself by making breakfast and calling Prim since I missed her call last night.

I want her here more than anything, the ache acute in my heart. My bed is far too big for me alone, but I have no one to share it with. I simply ignore that there is only one person that I want in it. But she lives across the street and it is not something I can ask of her. After all, I cannot provide the safe haven we once found in each other.

Instead, I lie awake and watch her read from the window. She is sipping from her mug, but sits there staring into nothingness for a long time. Her head drops to her chest, and I know that she has fallen asleep. But the light is still on, and I find it incredibly comforting that I can see her. I fall asleep on my side, watching through the open window and counting her breaths.

Oh, but you’re good to me - oh, but you’re good to me, baby

It began almost a week after the first time we had dinner together. Since then, we have had supper at her house. Sometimes it’s just the two of us, but other times Haymitch honors us with his presence.

When I bring it up during one of my calls, Dr. Aurelius recommends that we make it a routine. And that it could be good for us, help us form a friendship again.

We usually spend an hour or two sitting in her living room after supper doing little things on opposite ends of the couch. I’ll sketch her while she isn’t looking, she’ll lose herself to her knitting. But my favorite nights are when we read to each other. I’m careful to never let myself fall asleep at her house, but the timbre of her voice often tries to lull me under.

Her voice truly is beautiful. It is her turn to read tonight, but I try to contain my enthusiasm. She may be confused about where we stand, but wearing my heart on my sleeve has only seemed to have gotten me hurt. We are in the middle of Pride and Prejudice when she breaks our routine.

“Thank you, Peeta.” She whispers it, but I still catch it. She refuses to look at me, though I cannot possibly imagine what she is afraid of. Or grateful for. I often wonder if I am using her by stealing every moment of her night that I can. I’m not sure she notices it, but we finish just a little bit later every night. It makes me feel like we are stealing time away together again. That every second of her company is a battle to acquire. But somehow she gives it to me willingly.

“For what?” I match her volume, but not her tone. She is hesitant where I am sure. And I know that there is nothing I have given her that she must thank me for.

“You’re so good to me. Even when I,” she chokes up, “even when I don’t deserve it.”

”You deserve the world, Katniss. Never anything less.” She surprises me then. Color floods her cheeks, and she flushes more the longer I look at her. When she is silent for too long, I reach across the sofa. My index finger finds her chin and hooks it, and I gently move her to face me. Her eyes are pooled with unshed tears.

“There you are.” I whisper the words so softly that I don’t think she hears them. I drop my hand, forcing myself to not push it too far. But her fingers chase after it, until her palm rests on mine. We stare back at each other as she squeezes my hand and begins rubbing little circles with her thumb. The feeling mimics the way she holds my face during my episodes, and there is a tenderness in her eyes to match.

Eventually, she uses her unoccupied hand to place the book in her lap. With a much quieter voice than before, she resumes reading where we left off. The feeling of her hand in mine is all-consuming, and soon I am measuring time with each swipe of her thumb and soft breath she releases.

For all I know, an eternity has passed. Eventually, I brush a stray hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. But I linger there and she leans into my touch with a sigh. She closes her eyes and brings her hand to my own cheek. I let my eyes fall closed too, reveling in our closeness.

When I open them, there is a very soft smile gracing her face. The flames from the fireplace reflect on her skin, morphing olive into orange. And I feel something shift inside of me. This golden colour she is painted in has become my favorite hue of orange. It is saturated, contrasting starkly with my memory of her pale skin from her time locked far beneath the surface of 13.

I leave much later than planned, an endearment dying on my lips just before it can escape and ruin everything I know.

“Goodnight, love.”

With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet

Months slowly crawl by and winter seems fast approaching. And though we have plenty of food from the Capitol trains, Katniss begins storing her catches anyway. The more she preserves, the more it feels like she is hoarding instead of preparing. I think it is hard for her to accept that she doesn’t have a family relying on her alone to feed them once the ground is bare and frozen under layers of snow. Just like when I returned, she has struggled with feeding herself.

We spend a good chunk of our day together, usually both breakfast and dinner. We build up a sense of familiarity much stronger than we ever had before. It reminds me of the long days I spent with her after she broke her heel. She feels close, rather than infinitely distant. Suddenly, our bond is domestic and I bask in how normal it all feels. Though we carefully monitor our touches unless I am having an episode.

It almost makes me thankful when they happen. Because she will touch me, sing to me. During particularly bad ones, she even holds me.

I long for her kiss, her lips breathing sanity into my own.

Slowly, I begin finding small ways to touch her. I relish the feeling of our skin brushing together. It begins with me coming to deliver the bread in-person in the mornings. Our fingers touch during the exchange. Sometimes I find the courage to hold her hand while we’re reading, but other times it is her who initiates it.

This routine too is broken when one morning I am greeted by her at the door. Usually, she stays in her pajamas until after breakfast. Today she is already dressed and has a bag over her shoulder. The bags under her eyes are much smaller than normal, and her smile is radiant. Before I can say anything, she throws herself at me. I return her embrace once her intentions register.

She is not hurt, nor does she need comfort. This is not an episode. She is choosing to hug me. She breaks away abruptly, and smiles with an embarrassed look in her eyes.

I find that I quite like the flush on her cheeks.

She is bouncing with excitement.“Madge survived. Her train is due at the station in 25 minutes. Do you want to come with me?”

Though her visit is relatively short, Katniss blossoms with the return of Madge. It is strange seeing them talking without fear and hunger hanging over their heads. Only a week passes before Madge has to return to the Capitol, though she promises us she’ll come back. After her train vanishes into the horizon, Katniss holds my hand. Her smile doesn’t fade, even when we pass the meadow. Her thumb traces circles on the back of my hand, not dropping it until Buttercup meows at her feet.

It takes me by surprise when she carries him in her arms and begins walking into her kitchen. When she realizes that I am not following her, she stops in the doorway and gives me a curious look.

When I enter the kitchen, I am surprised to see the counter covered with a rainbow of fruits, nuts, and seasonings. A couple bushels of thyme, a mix of blueberries and blackberries, some jams in jars, raspberries, plums, peaches, even homemade cans of spiced apples. It is overwhelming. Huckleberries, mulberry, wild grape, and little containers of dried out rosemary. There is a crate from the Capitol full of cans of exotic herbs, fruits, and even vegetables.

At first, I am confused by the vast array of foods. But when I look at Katniss, I see a nervous smile on her face and a recipe book has replaced Buttercup in her arms. That’s when it clicks. This is a gift. She has foraged for them, has probably been harvesting for weeks. I can only imagine how long this took her. All for the intention of giving me things to bake, recipes that will not leave me grieving at the memory of my father writing them.

I don’t realize that I am crying until her fingers gently caress my face and brush away my tears. I lean into her hand and try to smile, but my lips quiver. Her eyes begin to water too, and her gaze traces over my face slowly.

“Do you… do you like it?” Her words are quiet, her voice gravelly. She seems uneasy of my reaction, but there is a spark of hope in her eyes. I gently wrap her in my arms, nuzzling my face into her neck. She returns the embrace and waits patiently for my response.

She smells like pine. It reminds me of all of my daydreams of us walking in the woods together. I take my time answering, knowing that she will wait for me. “Thank you.”

And she does it again. She begins gently rubbing small circles on my back. It is soothing, and I find myself leaning into her much more than before. I think that this is the best gift that I have ever received in my entire life. Not that I’ve been given many.

When she speaks, her breath is warm on my neck. She continues to whisper, as if this will all disappear if she speaks too loudly. As if this isn’t real; as if this is some spell that can be broken. “I was thinking… maybe we could bake some of the recipes together?”

Like the ashes of ash I saw rise in the heat

Baking with Katniss is much different from what I imagined it would be, and yet it is perfect. She warned me that the fruit would not keep long enough for us to bake everything when it was fresh. So, instead we choose to keep the blueberries out and preserve the rest. She makes me sit and watch as she jars, cans, and vacuum seals them. It takes us a whole day to get them all put away for later.

The first thing we make is a blueberry cobbler. This dish, at least, is familiar to Katniss. She helps me prepare it with ease, and I am surprised by how naturally we work together. We brush past each other, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. Though we started in her kitchen, she insists that we bake it in my wood fire oven. She claims that the smoke will give it a different taste. She makes me wait while she collects some hickory and mesquite branches as fuel.

While I manually work the oven, she sits on my counter and watches my every movement in silence. We started midafternoon when we had finished our late lunch. Though we snuck some blueberries while we thought the other wasn’t looking. As I pull the cast iron pan out and place it on a towel, a smile quickly develops on her face. “What are we baking tomorrow?”

We forego dinner and share the cobbler instead, devious grins on our faces as we clink spoons and steal bites from the other. When I leave that night, I find myself wondering if this is what true peace feels like. I fall asleep yearning for tomorrow to come.

The leaves are a rainbow of colour, from cheery yellow, vibrant orange, to deep burgundy. We begin spending most days together from sunrise to starlight. We are almost half way through the recipe book, and we have started adding anecdotes to the recipes. Little things like how long it takes with which wood and ideas for things it pairs well with. It turns out that what I had seen was only a small portion of the harvest that Katniss collected. Soon, things like pomegranates, lemons, and oranges appear in the array of options.

The distance between us is slowly bridged, and I no longer avoid touching her. When we read, she begins sitting close to me, and some nights we find ourselves leaning on the other’s shoulder and sharing a blanket. She begins falling asleep before I leave, and I carry her up to her bed when she does.

Eventually, once our touching in private is a status quo, she holds my hand during our time in town. It is not forced, nor is it out of desperation. It is because she wants to. Sometimes she sings to me in the dark. My episodes decrease and I’m able to stop them sooner.

I begin to feel like myself again.

#fanfiction #everlark #the hunger games

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sweatyfuntrash · 2 years

Text

I just finished endless summer and hoooolyyyyy shiiiiiiiiiit

I am losing my marbles

GOD I WANTED TO BE SELFISH SO BAD AND JUST STAY IN LA HUERTA BUT NOOOOOOO I GOTTA HAVE MORALS AND WANT THE BEST FOR MY FRIENDS

FUCK I'M CRYING

#endless summer choices #i am once again suffering for choices character #god dammit #ES choices #i kinda wish we could see little hints of the future the idols promissed in book 2 #like diego starting to write his book or jakes reunion with mike #don't get me wrong i weeped like a baby at the end #but it would have been nice ya know #ALSO IM SO MAD THEY KILLED MIKE????#TWICE????????#DUDE HE JUST GOT BACK AND YOU'RE ALREADY GOING OF AND KILLING HIM AGAIN???????#DUDE #Anyway Raj is the best and Craig is my bro #love those two #THE OTHER CHARACTERS DESERVE MORE HYPE #I get the LI are amazing but COME ON #GET GRACE MICHELLE ALAISTER RAJ ZAHRA CRAIG AND MANY MORE SOME LOVE #MAN #ok im done screaming now bye bye

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restinpeacesensei · 6 years

Photo

embarrassing comic continues under the cut

content warning: unsanitary

#akoya gero #arima ibushi #my art #my comic #unsanitary -#im experimenting with breaking the comic up as a compromise between having it all upfront or having it all behind a cut #altho i don't rly like interrupting the pace to give a warning;;;;#anyway hello i am here with yet another contrived situation #this is like the 3rd time ive used a snail for this im so sorry neither of them deserve it #i dont remember the last time i posted something embarrassing so clearly it was Time #pl-please be nice to them ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;#uhm this is why he wanted to go back to the city #im embarrassed bye ;;;;;;;#i think hes cute and i want him to be hugged and jvbgdfhfdh weeps;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

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untaemedqueen · 3 years

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 10.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love,

Warnings In This Chapter: Heart To Heart, Fluff, Infidelity, Sera Is A Cunt, Triggering Moments (I.E): Hearing Infidelity, Making Light Of Other's Trauma, Mentions of Cigarette Burns, General Rudeness

A/N: This chapter is early because I’m hungover. Always a shoutout to @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia. Enjoy!

The smell of blooming flowers is something you never thought you'd become fond of. It's never been something that you've even considered. But you find yourself so often these days finding small delights in simplistic things.

Sitting in front of the large fountain that has been hidden behind clean cut hedges and tall rose bushes, you let the gentle breeze wash over you.

You can hear Baeksoo quietly speaking to the plants as she waters them. It's calming in fact, to hear her speak words of praise.

You've thought long and hard about this evening. Which is astounding since it's just dinner. But, you don't know simple things about Yoongi.

You think to ask Maya but you want to do this by yourself.

"I thought I'd find you here," the voice draws your attention and suddenly you're misty eyed.

Just the way she walks and the tilt of her gorgeous face is enough to make you weep.

"Leena!" you cry out.

Jumping up from the bench, your arms spread wide as you feel relief flood over you.

"Hey, Miss Thing!" she cheers, pulling you into her arms.

You begin to feel as if you could breathe again.

"You look so great! I missed you so much!" she whines loudly, squeezing you tightly to her slim body.

"What're you doing here?!" you ask, pulling away to look at her pretty face.

She grabs your wrist, tugging you over to the bench you were just sitting on.

"Taehyung needed to bring Yoongi some documents for a mall or something before we're off to France, so I made sure I was able to come and see you."

You watch as she demurely crosses her legs and you make a mental note of it. She went to many etiquette classes when she was younger and you’ve always admired how graceful she is. It’s the way she moves so effortlessly and with such confidence. You’ve always wished to be like her.

The floral fragrance seems to enrapture you once more as you sit together. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, your best friend makes it a point to continue to hold you.

“How is he treating you? I swear to God, if you tell me that you’re being treated like the help I’m going to fucking flip.” your best friend asks.

You sigh gently, looking up at the clear cerulean sky.

“He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.” you reply as the breeze blows through your hair.

“Excuse me? Min Yoongi apologized to you?” she sounds dumbfounded and all you can do is nod in agreement.

“Oh my God, he’s so fucking whipped! That’s amazing.” you snort at her excitement, rolling your eyes before looking back over to her.

“I think he’s just being civil. We’ll see, we’re having dinner tonight.” your confession hits her like a stack of bricks and she squeals loudly, gripping your hands tightly.

“I’m gonna drop dead on this expensive gravel beneath my feet. YOU and YOONGI are having dinner tonight?! Like, eating in the presence of one another civilly?!” her blue contacted eyes go wide and her mouth drops open while you nod.

“Yeah. I’m cooking dinner,” you say, confusion enrapturing your tone.

She guffaws loudly, her head lolling back as she gasps for breath. “You’re so insane! This is amazing! He totally fucking likes you!”

“Well… I don’t know about that but-” your voice is cut off by hers.

“Shush! Silence! I’ve said what I’ve said! And it’s the law!” she cries out, pressing her perfectly manicured finger to your lips.

“Sexy girl! Let’s go!” you hear Taehyung scream.

Leena turns her head to the voice before pouting. “You better call me with all the details of your date. I want to know how he looks at you, how he eats his food with you around, how he fucking sneezes. I want the whole laundry list of things that happen tonight!”

You giggle at her enthusiasm before nodding. “Yes ma’am. A laundry list of all the things Min Yoongi does to make me mad.”

She rolls her eyes before kissing your cheek happily.

“Love you, Miss Thing!”

“Love you, too!”

Standing tall, she fixes her long dress. She looks around the garden impressed before folding her arms.

“I’m really happy for you, by the way. I think things are really going to work out here.” she calls to you, starting to walk away.

“Bye Yoongi!” she yells up to the house and your eyes follow hers.

He stands on his large balcony, a cup of coffee in hand staring at you. He bows his head to her, a smirk present on his lips before looking back at you.

“Little dove, good morning.” you hear him say as he retreats back into his room.

How long was he standing there? How much had he heard?

Listening to Frederic drone on about food is something you don’t think you could ever get tired of. He makes the French cook stereotype feel so alive. You’ve been in the kitchen plenty of times, have gone through the cabinets many, many times throughout the nights when staff and the chef were sleeping. But, to hear him feeling the need to explain it all to you as you both take small steps around the gigantic kitchen is humorous and you let him do his thing.

“Now this, this is a sieve. You can strain things through it,” Frederic says, picking up the large strainer.

You hum playfully as you lean down on the island counter.

“I have made my own food before y’know,” you quip to him as he unbuttons his chef’s jacket.

He tuts his tongue as he brushes some hair back behind your ear. “Ah oui, bien sûr Madame. I know, I just want to make sure you know where everything is.”

You smile at his kindness, it must be difficult to relinquish your kitchen to others especially after being in charge for so long.

“I promise I won’t make anything dirty and I promise, cross my heart, that I will take good care of your kitchen,” you swear to him as he throws his chef’s jacket over his shoulder.

He presses both of his hands to either side of your face, wiggling them slightly with a smile.

“Merci, Madame. You are in every word parfaite. I cannot be happier to make you food in this home,” he whispers as you tilt your head with a giggle.

“Go have a good day off, have fun,” you insist as he drifts his hand over the marble countertop, as if he’s finding it hard to say goodbye.

“Oui, bien entendu. I’ll have a drink in your honor, Madame,” he says with a sigh.

You give him a wink as he exits the kitchen and you watch him slowly leave to the maid’s quarter. Your lips sputter as you look around the large, empty kitchen before sighing.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

He should be working. He opened up his computer, he grabbed all the necessary documents from both Taehyung and his office but he just can’t seem to focus.

Yoongi can smell the aroma of food coming from the kitchen and it makes him curious. What are you making? How do you even know what he likes? Do you even know how to cook?

He wants to know more about you, or try to learn more anyway.

Recalling just this morning, he can hear you so clearly -- “He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.”

You think he’s cold and you’re absolutely right. He always has been and it’s gotten worse these last couple of years.

He doesn’t know who he even is anymore. At least he doesn’t think he does.

Then you mentioned that he came to apologize. It must have meant a lot to you. It was weird for him to feel that aching in his chest, to feel like he fucked up. Even in the past when he’s done and said horrible things -- he never had such an ache.

Something about you just… sends him reeling.

Then he remembers what Leena said, “You better call me with all the details of your date.”

Was this a date? He didn’t even think of it in that way. It’s just two people eating… right?

Just a man and the… mother… of… his… child.

“I need whisky,” he mumbles to himself, standing up.

He hasn’t been on a date in God knows how long. He hasn’t spoken to a woman, truly spoken to one, in what feels like a millennia.

Picking up the empty bottle of whisky from the small bar caddy, he curses to himself.

He decides it’s in his best interest to go all the way to the kitchen to get a bottle. Even though his bedroom is just a floor down.

But, it certainly isn’t because you’re in the kitchen cooking. No. Not at all.

As he gets closer to the kitchen, he can smell different types of herbs and delicious meats cooking. He can smell raw peppers and onions and it makes his mouth water.

Yoongi watches you from afar for a minute, just standing on the last step of the stairwell. You’re humming, the song is sweet and calm. You have on a cute apron around your waist, with small smears of what seem to be a sauce of some kind on it.

He can feel his heart lightening at the simple sight of you. You look so… beautiful. So fucking domestic. And, he feels like he doesn’t even need the alcohol anymore because just watching you makes him drunk.

How bizarre.

“What’re we doing?” Maya whispers from next to the stairwell.

Yoongi practically jumps out of his skin at the sight of her, pressing his hand to his heart.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers fiercely, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

He hears the older woman giggle and he rolls his eyes at her giddiness.

“I’m just getting whisky,” he mumbles aloud, still trying to keep quiet in case it would disturb you.

“Oh. I see. I can get it for you, Sir.” she replies and he grabs her wrist gently as she tries to walk away.

“No, no! I got it. It’s okay. I was just…” he can’t even complete his sentence.

What was he doing? Checking you out? He was just watching you, feeling so serene.

“You were being sweet, like I raised you. You were entranced by her.” Maya says.

He grimaces at her. “No! I was just… waiting to see if she burned down the kitchen or not.”

Maya giggles to herself before bowing her head. “Of course, Sir. I see that now.”

He rolls his eyes as she takes off to the maid’s quarter.

He watches you wave to Maya with a shy smile on your face.

“Goddammit,” he mutters, combing his fingers through his hair.

He takes small steps, trying his hardest not to disturb you as he walks by the long bar.

“Oh, hey Yoongi!”

Your voice is so sweet. Especially when you say his name.

“Smells good,” he calls to you, walking through the small hallway before appearing in the kitchen.

“Thanks! I hope you like it,” you reply happily as you stir something in the pot.

As he takes in your face, he snorts gently at a small stain by your cheek.

“I think you’re a messy cook,” he teases, walking towards you.

“Huh?” you ask confused.

Stepping in front of you, he taps his index finger to the underside of your chin.

“Look at me,” he instructs.

As you look up at him, he can feel himself falling into your eyes. You’re so doe-like and precious even when you don’t know it. It’s kind of miraculous.

Wiping his thumb over your cheek, he snorts gently. Your breath hitches in your throat as he strokes his thumb over you.

“What’re you making for dinner?” he asks, trying to distract himself from how soft your skin is.

“Well, I made a lot of things.” you reply, pulling your face away from him to look down at the pot.

He hums inquisitively, grabbing a glass off of a rack and pulling out the whisky.

“Do tell, little dove. You’re making me hungry,” he jeers, pouring himself a large portion of the alcohol.

“Well for the appetizer, I made brussel sprouts with parmesan and bacon and a small salad. For the soup, I made a soybean sprout soup. And, the main course is veal with lemon butter sauce and glazed carrots.” you tell him proudly.

He begins to smirk at how pleased you are with yourself.

“Sounds good, I’m excited,” he replies, lifting his glass.

You giggle gently, turning off the burner underneath the pot.

Leaning down on the marble island across from him, you rub your hands together.

“I hope you like it,” you whisper.

You sound shy now and it peeks his interest. You’re like a frail flower. It’s so difficult to get a read on you or put you in a category. But, maybe that’s how it should be. You shouldn’t just be one specific way, you should be well rounded. And he thinks you’ve got that.

“I’m sure I will. Although, didn’t I put in the contract that you shouldn’t be eating so much?”

Finally for once it doesn’t come out as gruff and angry, it was meant to be a joke. Luckily for him, it came out that way.

You find yourself smiling, almost having the urge to stick your tongue out at him playfully.

“I haven’t been able to cook in a long time, this feels nice. Eating a lot once in a while isn’t so bad,” you counter good-naturedly.

He raises his glass at your words. “Touche. Little dove, touche.”

You lean your head on your shoulder, your fingers skimming over each other as you look down at the marble beneath you. For once, the silence isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It’s pleasant.

“Was it nice to see Leena this morning?” he knows the answer, but he wants to see you smile wider.

And so you do. Brimming from ear to ear, you nod.

“So nice! I’m so happy that I got to see her,” you admit, looking up at him.

“Well, she can come over whenever she wants. It’s in the contract,” he suggests.

“I didn’t know if I wanted her to come over yet, y’know. With Sera around and stuff…” your answer falls flat as Yoongi chuckles across from you.

“That’d be like putting two piranhas in a tank and seeing who wins,” he chuckles.

You snort gently, pointing at him. “Exactly.”

He watches you fix things up around the kitchen, cleaning as you go.

And finally he speaks after some time. “What can I do to help?”

Humming you shrug with a smirk. "I got it. Why don't you go relax for a while?" you suggest.

As you go to lift the pot, Yoongi whistles loudly as if to tell you to stop.

"I read that pregnant women shouldn't be lifting anything heavy. Don't even think about it. I got it," he insists, waving his hand for you to move.

"You read something?" your voice is wrapped with humor as you move over.

"Very funny, little dove. Go set up the table," he instructs with an ever present smirk on his face.

Yoongi leans back in his seat, his stomach was full of delicious food by now but he can't stop picking at his plate. A true testament to how great of a cook you are.

"Damn." he whispers, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

You smirk across the table, your arms folding with pride.

"Good?" you ask softly, grabbing your drink.

"Very good. I'm impressed," he says as he slings his arm over the top of his chair.

You giggle gently, your head lolling back to look at the clear night sky.

"Who taught you how to cook?" he asks, watching as you count the stars.

So here it is. Will he be as truthful as you? Will he talk to you?

"My parents. My dad always liked cooking more than my mother. She was sick a lot when I was young. Always in the hospital. So my dad got comfort from making her food and I used to take it to her," you answer, looking back down at him.

Yoongi nods gently, it's starting to click in his mind. "That's why you hate hospitals?"

"That's why I hate hospitals. There was a time when she was admitted for a bad stomach ache and she got worse in the hospital because the bedding and the nurses weren't clean." you reply breathlessly.

The father of your child cringes at the thought, taking a sip of his whisky.

"You?"

Yoongi takes a deep, slow breath. He stares at your face and the task at hand is daunting. If people didn't already know him, he didn't open up. But, he should open up to you.

Or he thinks so anyway. You're having his child, you should know about him. And maybe if he speaks his history then it will break the cycle. Then he won't turn into his parents, he won't have a fucked up kid like himself.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," you say quickly.

You can see him wrought with nervousness. Just the prospect of letting things out must terrify him.

"No, I should talk about them. If not with you then surely a therapist," he jokes out of worry.

But, then he looks at your face. He feels that sense of dizzying calm once more. Like everything is going to be okay.

He chugs the rest of his whisky, his mouth watering and grimacing.

"No, I don't know how to cook. I'm not even sure my parents know how to cook-" he lets out a breath, letting the warm fire of the alcohol in his belly keep him going, "-they never took care of me. I was born and they were relieved to have a boy so they didn't have to try again."

You hum sadly at his words, tucking your legs beneath you as he runs his hand over his face.

"Maya has always taken care of me. She's always loved and cared for me. She's my mother by all accounts, if I'm being honest. My father was a very big disciplinarian… if that's what you want to call it. Most people would say abusive," he says, pouring himself another glass of whisky.

"Kneeling on rice, getting hit with sharp objects, burning cigarettes out. Things like that," he waves off the notion with his hand, shivering while even speaking the words.

Your heart breaks for him, thinking of how painful that must have been when he was a child.

"I haven't seen my parents in… four years now, since I got married. I hate them." he spits at the ground beneath his feet.

You can see the emotional turmoil he's reliving. You can't imagine how difficult that is.

"I'm sorry," you whisper and he shakes his head fiercely.

Picking up his fork, he taps it gently to the fine china as he thinks.

"So I grew up hating authority because of them and the teachers at Sairmount. They always said I should be doing better because of my position and what I would grow into. I hated that. Even when I tried my best I received no praise, and if I made one mistake it was like the end of the world. So I ended up just kind of… becoming a shell."

You nod to his words, your index finger swirling around the rim of your glass.

"What else, little dove?" he asks softly.

As he tilts his head, you take in his handsome features. He's just a product of his environment. You wonder what he would be like if he could thrive.

"I heard that you go to BDSM clubs and stuff, is that because you feel the need to put people in pain like you were when you were younger?" you ask, trying to be considerate of his feelings.

He takes a sharp breath through his teeth almost as if you've burned him.

"Jesus. You might as well be my therapist," he mumbles, running his hand over his face.

But, he doesn't feel awkward talking to you. He likes this. He appreciates how you listen. How your eyes stay soft and you don't judge him.

"When I was younger -- I was probably sixteen when I developed a taste for it. I was getting angry and violent. I was breaking shit and I needed to funnel that into something. So I started going to a club and learned how to be a dom. It was about the comfort of being in charge. I would have a sub and tell them to jump. They would say how high. I thrived off of being in charge. Thrived off people doing my bidding sexually. It just felt right for me to tell someone what to do and have them want to do it for me. I was in charge, people listened to me, I didn't have to do things others wanted. People did what I wanted them to do. I've toned it down since then."

"You were pretty dominating with me," you offer softly.

He chuckles at how innocent you look, his index finger swiping slowly over his lower lip. "That's because you're so sweet. I wanted to wreck you."

With a gentle giggle, you put your elbow on the table before resting your head on your hand.

"You kind of did," you reply, putting your hand on your stomach.

His eyes follow your hand and he begins to smirk above his glass.

"Clearly," he whispers, his eyes slowly drifting up your body to your swollen tits.

He licks his lips slowly, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip gently.

He never understood the attraction to pregnant women like his friend Jimin. The younger man was obsessed with the notion of it and Yoongi couldn't possibly begin to grasp it. But now, with you sitting here before him, he might be beginning to understand.

Averting his eyes from you, he tries to keep his rampant thoughts at bay.

"What else do you want to know, little dove?" he asks, trying to distract himself.

Your cheeks puff out as you think, your fingers combing through your hair gently.

"Sera? What's with her. If you hate her so much why did you get married to her?" you whisper.

Well, that's something to kill the sexual mood he was starting to feel.

He spits on the ground at the simple name of her. He stares far off into the distance, his eyes lingering on a grove of trees Baeksoo has so kindly planted.

"Sera…" he mumbles, stretching out his legs.

You might as well know. You aren't going anywhere in his life.

"Jesus, I think about it everyday and it still makes me mad," he chuckles to himself, the sound bitter and full of resentment.

You watch his face contort in pain, just the simple memory making it hard to withstand.

Without a second thought you're moving your chair. The sound is loud as you move the heavy metal and he watches you with amused eyes. Finally, your seat is next to him and you huff out gently.

"What?" he asks gently as you plop back down.

You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers to bring him peace. His head lolls back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut at the simple move. It's a simple thing to hold hands but it feels powerful when it's you.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say to him.

His thumb drifts over the back of your hand, his eyes opening to the numerous stars that hang brightly in the sky.

"Everyone knows I hate her but no one truly knows why. Maya, Joon, Hoseok, they know. Hell, Hoseok dives deep into her bitter cunt at night and he knows." he shakes his head gently, his eyes flitting from star to star.

You begin to bite your lip nervously as he squeezes your hand tighter.

"I didn't always hate her. I loved her once. I loved the prospect of her anyway," he breathes out, his hand gripping tighter at yours, "I was engaged at fourteen. It was mandatory, the leech's parents were friends with my parents. Their company was going down the drain, they almost had to declare bankruptcy. So this was the easiest thing for both parties. It's very normal in the high profile life to be engaged to someone else for money. It didn't bother me at all that I was engaged, so were the people around me. I thought I was going to have a life like Namjoon."

He snorts at the simple thought and mindlessly he tugs your hand with his over your stomach.

Just the thought of his baby inside of you brings him peace.

With a gentle sigh, he continues. "She didn't go to school with us and I had only seen her a few times at balls and galas. She was annoying back then and she was always brisk with people. But I liked that, I guess. Because I was the same way. I had a childish crush on her for so long and it kept growing as we got older."

He stops talking only to down another glass of whiskey. He closes his eyes as you run your hand comfortingly over his. "When I moved into this house, I had it renovated to please her. I did anything and everything to make her happy. And I was so… excited to have someone that was mine. Someone to spend the rest of my life with. I didn't want our marriage to be like my parents. And, now it's worse."

You find how sad he is depressing. Frowning, you click your teeth softly.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper.

Shaking his head, Yoongi looks at you. He gives you a sad smile. It's heart wrenching to look at his handsome face so distraught.

Even if he can be an asshole sometimes, you can understand him better now. That's all you wanted. You just wanted to be able to connect the dots.

"It was the night of our wedding, that's when I became aware of how awful of a person Sera is." he says, staring off into the distance.

He couldn't understand why she wanted to get married on New Years. It's freezing cold but if it makes her happy then he should do it. It'll be his duty as a husband anyhow.

"Come!" Taehyung whines to him as he sits in the booth.

"I'm not having sex with a woman the day before I'm getting married. That'd be such a dickish thing to do," he counters as Taehyung wraps his arms around the stripper beside him.

"You've been celibate for a year or some shit. You abstaining for the Lord or for the sake of your new bride is not going to make you a born again virgin, okay?" the younger man asks with a laugh, running his hand over the stripper's pert backside.

Rolling his eyes, the Kisung CEO takes a sip from his drink.

"It's not about being a born again virgin, you moron. It's about fidelity. It's about trust. She and I agreed that we would just be for each other." Yoongi barks out gruffly.

Taehyung grimaces at the simple thought. "Fine. Well whatever pact you have with your blushing new bride is depressing me. I'm going to get my dick wet with… Luna. That's your name, right?" the hotel CEO asks the woman on his arm.

She giggles loudly, the sound frightening and way too forced. "Laura, silly!"

"Yeah. That. Bye Hyung. Try to cheer the fuck up or something." Tae calls, picking the stripper up with his strong arms before swinging her over his shoulder.

Yoongi snorts loudly, his eyes flitting from here to there in the large strip club. This wasn't for him anymore. He would be married now. To a woman all his.

He's been living in this fantasy. Waking up on weekend mornings next to his wife, eating breakfast together. Having a few kids. Being able to enjoy each other's company.

He loves the idea of that. He's gone through so much terrible pain in his lifetime. Maybe, fate is telling him he deserves a reward now.

Standing up, he finishes the rest of his drink. He tosses a few hundred bucks onto the table before heading out.

He knows it's not customary to see his bride the night before the wedding but, maybe he can just have a talk with her. He's dying to see her.

For once, Yoongi let someone else take the penthouse besides him. Sera should be fully comfortable before her big day.

They bought out the whole hotel. She wanted to be married in Italy on New Years. She wanted diamonds dripping from the fucking ceiling and she would have it. She would have it all.

The walk from the strip club to the hotel wasn't far. Yoongi can see the lights on in the penthouse and his heart begins to hammer in delight at the thought of seeing her.

She's so fucking beautiful. Albeit, she can be a little irritating at times but who isn't? She's almost godly in his eyes.

He's been waiting for this day since he was fourteen. He can remember when Namjoon got engaged. How fucking against it he was.

Joon always wanted to do things his way. He wanted to pick who he was with, he wanted to be happy on his own. He despised Yoona for years before their big day a year ago. Then he found out how similar they are. He fell in love with everything she's in love with.

Yoongi hopes it'll be the same.

The ride up the elevator to the penthouse is quiet. Gentle muzak plays that seems to lull him into a false sense of security.

Sera might be really big on traditions. She might have him sit in the living room for them just to talk but that's okay too. Whatever she wants.

The elevator opens silently and Yoongi fixes his blazer in the hallway mirror. He smiles to himself softly, looking like nothing can bring him down from this cloud.

Until he hears it. Until he hears the gentle groaning of a man in his sexual pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Sera. Do it again, you filthy slut." he hears and his world comes crashing down around him.

"Yeah, fuck. You like that? Your cock is so much bigger than Yoongi's. I want you to come play with me during the week while he's at work," she sounds breathless.

The CEO's eyes flutter shut and he grips onto the table before him to keep him steady.

"Yeah. I'd bet you'd fucking like that. I bet you love the idea of me fucking your little cunt while your husband is away at work. Let me cum in your pussy before the cuck gets home. You'll let him in this pussy with my cum inside of you," the voice is that of Sera's driver. The one man Yoongi never even gave any thought to.

His hand feels for the wall. His legs are shaking by now and he slowly slides down the gold wall, pressing his hand over his mouth.

"Cum on my cock, you fucking slut."

The sound of her orgasming will never leave his brain. He can hear how pleased she is.

Yoongi in his past has had sex with others too. But, they promised to be faithful to one another. He believed her.

He can feel his eyes welling up with tears as he squeezes them shut tighter.

He thought fate was giving him a helping hand. He was going to be happy! What has he done so wrong in his life for misery to consistently stay?!

Heavy breathing is heard throughout the silent penthouse.

"Why did you promise that stupid fuck you would be only for him?" Jungmo, the driver, asks breathlessly.

Sera giggles, a sound once so adorable it brought Yoongi to his knees.

"Because I want his fucking money. There's no prenup if he thinks I'm all for him. He genuinely thinks that I love him. He thinks I care about whatever the fuck has happened in his miserable past. Do you know that he told me that his dad used to burn cigarettes out on his skin? I was supposed to feel sorry for him." Jungmo and Sera laugh along with one another.

Yoongi's mouth opens at the sheer atrocity he's listening to. She's so fucking cruel. How did he never see this? How could he have this happen to him?

"You were supposed to feel sorry for that billionaire while you're only sitting barely comfortable at seven million!?"

"I know, right?! The fucking nerve! Like, he doesn't even understand that my life has been so much worse! I had to almost go fucking bankrupt! Who gives a fuck about your sad past? What about me?"

The CEO tugs at the blazer fabric situated above his heart. He clamps his hand tighter over his mouth to stifle the sob raring to break free from his throat.

"I can't wait to take all his fucking money and leave him with only his sad little memories."

Crawling over to the elevator, he pushes the button softly. Praying to God that it doesn't make any noise when it opens.

She's such a cruel bitch. So fucking vile.

He stands up on shaky legs as the door opens without a sound. Pushing the button for the floor below him, he waits until the door closes.

He waits until he is safe in his room.

He wails loudly, falling onto the carpeted flooring of the hotel room. He gasps for air, hands digging and pulling at his hair.

He cries for an hour, maybe more. Time seemingly stops in his distraught state.

When he calms himself down, he pulls out his phone. He crawls over to the bar caddy, wiping viciously at the tears he's spilled for the woman upstairs.

Yoongi doesn't even grab a glass, he just pulls the bottle of whisky down to the floor.

Sitting back against the long bar of the room, he dials the only number he can right now.

The sound of the phone ringing is so loud, it makes him want to weep all over again.

"Yoongi? It's two in the morning, what the fuck?" Namjoon calls blearily, through the phone.

"Joon… Please come to my room." his voice cracks and breaks as he picks up the bottle of whisky.

"Jesus, are you okay?" his best friend asks quickly.

"I need… I need a prenup. Please. Come." Yoongi begs, lifting the bottle to his lips.

"I'm coming! Hold on!" Joon calls to him before the line goes dead.

He gulps down the whisky at a ferocious speed, the liquor swirling and settling in his guts. The fire flaming and goading him on to no avail.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" he screams at the top of his lungs.

Yoongi launches the bottle across the room, burying his face into his knees as the sound of glass echoes all around him.

"Oh Yoongi. I'm so sorry," you whisper, clutching tighter to his hand.

Yoongi finds himself laughing at the memory now. He was so blind back then. So lovestruck.

"Nothing that isn't fixed now, little dove. Now we're both trapped in this marriage." his voice is devoid of emotion as he picks up the liquor bottle.

You can see how hurt he is even now. How reliving the memory is something akin to death to him.

You lean in towards his body. You press your lips to his cheek and he grabs you tighter at the feeling.

"Maybe that's why I liked you in the club? Because you seemed so completely opposite of the whore that lives in my house," he says finally as you pull away.

He turns his face to you, your lips just mere inches apart.

Yoongi lifts his hand, placing it gently on your cheek.

"You're a good girl, Y/N. You're so kind and sweet. Fucking understanding. You're going to be a great mother. I'm so sorry that you have to deal with me. Deal with an asshole every day. It isn't fair to you," he whispers, his thumb grazing over the apple of your cheek.

His hand is so warm against your skin, so soft. He's being so gentle.

"You're not an asshole. Not truly." you reply softly.

With a snort, he rolls his eyes. "See. You're almost too kind."

You giggle as his hand drifts down the column of your neck, his thumb rubbing over your jawline.

"I'm serious. You can be an asshole, for sure. But it's because of all the terrible things that have happened to you. If you were happy, really and truly happy. You might flourish. You might be able to find yourself again." you reply.

It comes out as a suggestion but it's really a wish. No one should ever be put through what he has had happen to him.

He tilts his head unsurely, pulling away from you.

"You're going to be a great dad. I won't let you be anything but a good dad to your child. No one is perfect, Yoongi. We can do this together." you say, earnestly.

Together.

The word makes his heart rate pick up speed.

You're pretty perfect in his eyes.

He can tell as you sit with one another, how heavy your eyelids are getting.

"You're tired," he observes.

"No, I'm okay!" you reply quickly to him.

He clicks his teeth, eyes narrowing at you. "We're going to be truthful with each other from here on in. Are you tired?"

With a hesitant hum, you nod. "A little. The baby makes me tired a lot these days."

"Okay." Yoongi whispers finitely.

Standing up, he moved your chair for you. With a simple grunt, he picks you up in his arms bridal style.

"I can walk!" you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"So can I." he jeers cutely.

Wading with sure steps through the house, you find how easy it is for him to look down at you. His eyes are soft when they look upon you now. Like telling you about his life has taken a huge weight off of his shoulders.

He kicks open your bedroom door with a smirk.

"There would have been a time I would have died to bring you up here to ravage you," he says, goodnaturedly.

"You still can." you sing softly as he lays you down on your bed.

"We'll see, hmm?" he whispers as he lifts the covers for you.

"Stay," you mumble, arranging the pillows to your liking.

"You want me to sleep with you?!" Yoongi feels frightened at the notion.

"Yeah… just stay. Don't leave me," you whisper as you close your eyes.

He hesitantly walks around to the other side of the bed. He fumbles with his pants and his shirt almost embarrassingly so.

Yoongi hasn't laid with anyone in years. He hasn't thought about doing so in ages.

"Did you leave?" your voice is just above a whisper.

He watches you for a second, how pretty and serene you look with your hair splayed over the pillow.

"No, little dove. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he replies, laying down beside you.

Swallowing thickly, he gets comfortable under the same covers as you.

This is bizarre.

Tiredly, you pull his hand. His eyes go wide as you situate it over your stomach.

"It's not a big deal, Yoongi. Just sleep." You mumble as you turn onto your back.

He can feel the tiny bump developing under his hand.

It is a big deal.

To him.

He brushes some hair out of your face gently.

Maybe Sera wasn't his start to a new life. Maybe it's you.

Next Chapter ---->

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realcube · 3 years

Text

HQ BOYS REACT TO YOU FAKE CRYING

characters ♡ yaku, kenma, kayegama & iwaizumi

content warning ♡ fake crying, mentions of murder, hurt/comfort, fluff & timeskip! iwaizumi (no mature themes, just domesticity)

credit ♡ thank you to 🍦anon for this request

morinosuke yaku

♡ why did you need to need to practise in the bedroom?? in his bedroom, no less

♡ your show was quickly approaching and you recalled the scene where you were to burst out into tears on stage, and you hadn’t yet rehearsed how you were going to do that

♡ honestly, you were under the assumtion that yaku would have no problem with you practising while in his bedroom bc he has ran lines with you in the past and this was hardly any different

♡ so sat, thinking about the most horrible, morbid, grotesque things you possible could, all while keeping your eyes wide open and not blinking so soon enough, the tears started rolling

♡ proud of yourself, you smirked before burying your face into your hands; now to add sobs!

♡ it started out with mere snivels but then as you got more confident, it built up to full on bawls which were loud enough to gain yaku’s attention from the kitchen

♡ he was quick to rush over to his bedroom, his soul audibly leaving his body when he saw your upset weeping figure on the bed

♡ he basically pounced on you and engulfed you with his embrace, ‘dear! what’s wrong? are you alright? who hurt you?!’ the questions were fast falling off his tongue as cradled your head, leaving no room for you to speak without being muffled by his chest or arms

♡ and when he noticed that you were trying to speak, he simply hushed you, ‘shh! it’s okay, dearest.’ and continued to whisper ‘comforting’ stuff like that in your ear

♡ he thought he was helping but really he was just preventing you from getting you point across

♡ eventually, you managed to escape his steel grip and gasp, ‘yaku! i’m fine! look — no tears!” you gestured to you damp cheek, “i was just practising for my role! i’m not actually sad. though, it’s cute that you care so mu--”

♡ as soon as yaku heard the word ‘practising’ he immediately recalled how you mention you have a sad scene where you need to cry and his natural reflex was to lean backwards, grab a massive teddy bear that sat behind him which he had won at a carnival for you but you insisted that he keep it bc you didn’t want to carry it home

♡ ...and he threw it straight at you, causing you to fall backwards and burst out laughing at how you were currently being straddled by a big teddy bear

♡ ‘(y/n)! i thought you were hurt! you can’t just fake cry without telling me first- i was so worried! like i thought it was real and--’ this went on for an elongated amount of time, yaku ranting while you added a faint ‘sorry!’ whenever you saw the opportunity

♡ eventually, he stopped only to take a deep breath, visibly calming doing as his chest heaved, ‘alright. what’s done is done; it’s fine. you worried me though, (y/n). i thought you were being for real, what then?’

♡ you nodded, smiling at his softened expression as your lips twisted into a smirk at his final comment. cocking a brow, you purred, ‘so...you think i’m a good actor? tha--’

♡ pow! another plushie to the face! K.O!

kenma kuzome

♡ as a joke, you dabbed water under your eyes a few times so you could send your friend a snap of you ‘crying’ and ofc kenma had to walk in at exactly the wrong time

♡ you were over at his house, chilling on his couch while he was upstairs talking to kuroo over the phone— he said he’d only be a moment but almost half an hour had passed and he still showed no sign of coming back downstairs, though you couldn’t blame him as kuroo does have a tendency to be overly descriptive when spilling tea

♡ anyway, as soon as you had sent your snap, you placed your phone down and scanned the room in search of some tissues to wipe you eyes with, when kenma barged in

♡ ‘hey, (y/n). i’m sorry that took so lo--’ when his gaze shifted from his phone onto you, sitting on the couch with tears streaming down your cheeks, he immediately cut himself off

♡ at first, you were frozen, simply staring at each other; as if he had just walked in on you committing a violent act of homicide in his living room

♡ honestly you were too stunned to move at first but if you could, you’d probably say something along the lines of ‘this isn’t what it looks like’ but before you could even open your mouth, kenma edged towards you until he was able to outstretch his arms and wrap you in his warm embrace

♡ with your cheek pressed against his warm hoodie, basking in an uncommon blissful silence, you postponed your explanation until you were finished enjoyed how his nimble fingers caressed your back

♡ you hummed, your lips curling a smile at how comfortable you felt in his arms and how nice his hoodie smelt, since it usually reeked of an unholy mixture of body spray and monster energy

♡ he planted a kiss upon your head, murmuring into your hair, ‘baby, what’s wrong?’

♡ you were quick to swipe away your ‘tears’ with the back of your hand, ‘i’m fine, don’t worry.” you chirped, beaming at him to reinforce this point, ‘it’s just water, for a silly video i sent to my friends.’

♡ kenma blinked rapidly, staring down at your seemingly genuine smile

♡ honestly, you expected him to tease you or be irritated that you made him reveal a hidden soft side of himself for no reason, since he’s usually quite private with his emotions

♡ but instead, the corners of his lips just lifted into a slight smile as pushed your head back against his chest, then resting his head upon yours, ‘oh, that’s cool.’ he breathed, his warm, calming voice causing your eyelids to become heavy — that and the fact you had went on a run not too long ago

♡ kenma felt your eyes flutter shut against his chest so he slowly leaned backwards, holding you against his hoodie as he laid down, allowing himself to doze off with you snuggled up on his heaving torso

hajime iwaizumi

♡ you were making iwaizumi dinner, cutting onions and cooking curry

♡ so it was not surprising when tears started brimmed at your eyes, eventually slipping from your lashline and trickling down the soft skin of your cheeks, leaving you to blink rapidly to lubricate your burning eyes

♡ iwaizumi had just came out the shower, he had dried off but when he came downstairs and peered into the kitchen, he was wearing just a towel which was draped around his hips, ‘mm, something smells good. whatcha cookin’, baby?’

♡ he didn’t plan on staying downstairs for long, which is why he didn’t throw on a shirt; all he wanted to do was get to the bottom of what that magnificent aroma was that he smelled from upstairs, then once he figured it out, he’d go back upstairs, get changed, then head back down for dinner

♡ but his plan was cut short when he noticed crystalline tears pouring from your red, puffy eyes

♡ without thinking or taking into consideration why your eyes are red, his immediate reaction was to dash over to your side and slip his arms around your waist, puling you in so that one of your hands had no choice but to rest on his back while the other continued to stir the pot

♡ noticing that your watery eyes were still fixated on the curry, he took your chin inbtween his fingers and forced you to cook at him, ‘why’s my angel crying? hm?’ he cooed, features painted with genuine worry and concern

♡ you lifted a brow, stifling a chuckle at how silly he was being, ‘what do you mean?’

♡ before you could process anything else, iwaizumi bought you in for a passionate kiss with the his hand pressing against the small of your back, only pulling away so he could rest his head on your shoulder and hum into your ear, ‘you can tell me anything, angel, so what’s on your mind?’

♡ you bottom lip quivered at his intimate action — you might just start crying for real

♡ biting your bottom lip, you resisted your tears and forced out a laugh, ‘what’s on my mind? well,’ you started, momentarily letting go of the ladle so you could hug back, ‘i have to make dinner for my himbo husband, but the onions and spices are burning my eyes. pray for me, iwa.’

♡ it took him a moment to register what you just said. he’d been in the kitchen many times so by now he was basically immune to the way onions and spices affect the eyes, so he completely forgot that stuff like that happens. he honestly, wholeheartedly thought that you were crying real tears of sadness while making dinner

♡ he impulsively pushed you away, crossing his arms over his chest and his initial kind expression lowering into a scowl, ‘who are you calling a himbo?! i just forgot that some people have weak-ass eyes. bye.’ he spat, clearly trying his best not to laugh as he stormed off to his room, keeping a firm grip on his towel the whole time

♡ don’t worry, though. he was back ten minutes later — fully clothed — to eat dinner with you :))

♡ but don’t mention it ever again or else he’ll blush and tell you it ever happened

tobio kageyama

♡ you were scrolling on your fyp and found a video of a person explaining how to cry on command and you didn’t believe it’d actually work so you tried it

♡ as it turns out, it does work and now you are sitting on your bed with tear stained cheeks and a dry throat, completely zoned out until kageyama came marching into your bedroom

♡ it was in that moment that you recalled that you had invited him over for a movie night and you had left your front door unlocked for him, hence he must’ve invited himself in

♡ ‘sorry i’m late, but i brought doritos.’ he spun on heels after closing the door, doritos in hand but not for long because as soon as he noticed your cheek glistening the lamplight, he instantly dropped them to rush over to you

♡ ‘eh? (y/n)? are you crying?’ he asked with a harsh voice, which wouldn’t help if you really were crying. instinctively, he reached out for your hand and began pressing kisses to the back of it

♡ he wasn’t really too sure on what exactly he could do or say to comfort you, so he recollected on the time you tried to cheer him up after he lost a big game. you lay beside him on his bed, humming a distant tune that matched the one playing in his ear from his earbuds. one hand threading through his hair while the other cupped his cheek so you could press occasional, soft kisses on his cheek while he set to himself. it was calming, and it definitely worked in making him feel better. usually, it’d take him months to recover after a devastating loss like that, but with you by his side and giving him support, he was back to his normal self in a couple weeks

♡ well, as normal as it gets for kageyama

♡ you gently shook your head, admiring his adorable actions and allowing his to continue as you used your spare hand to wipe away your artificial tears

♡ ‘oh, sweetie, i love you so much.’ you mused, thinking up a way to start your story without sounding foolish

♡ but perhaps you shouldn’t have began your explanation with a term of endearment as his impulse with to promptly throw his arms around you, holding onto your torso tightly

♡ you were taken back for moment, wheezing slightly as kageyama squeezed the air out of you but finally able to speak once he relaxed his arms, ‘tobio! nothing’s wrong, don’t worry. i was just testing to see if i could fake cry or not. i’m not actually crying.’

♡ kageyama’s eyes widened and he paled

♡ you weren’t actually in need of comfort? then why did he just get all soft? for nothing?

♡ ‘no.’ was his simple response which he punctuated with another kiss on the back of your hand

♡ you couldn’t help but giggle, taking advantage of this opperuntiy to reach out and ruffle his hair, ‘yes. i’m seriously okay. i’m happy, actually, because i get to spend my evening watching movies with you!’

♡ surprisngly, he didn’t glare at you for messing up his hair — since it was already untidy — and just took a seat beside you, keeping ahold of your hand as if it was a fragile gem, ‘i don’t believe you.’

♡ you laughed, realising that he was clearly making excuses for openly showing affection and being soft so you just let him, hopping to your feet and tugging your hand away from him so you could grab the doritos he dropped, ‘whatever you say, tobio.’

♡ he pouted but it was only brief as he was soon able to take your hand once more, ‘yeah..’ he grunted, averting his eyes so you didn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks, ‘whatever, just put on the stupid movie...stupid (y/n)...i love you..’

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1plus1kiyoomi · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6: Fight or Flght Response

[prev] [next]

[masterlist]

——————————————————————————

warnings: mentions of sex and pretty much a toxic relationship

Morning comes and Kuroo wakes up with a headache. Eyes still closed, he taps on the other side of the bed, his hands looking for your body. “Love?” He groans. “Love, can you bring me some medication? My head hurts.”

Kuroo falls asleep once again and then wakes up an hour later. He sits up, his head ringing. “(Y/N)? Love?” He leaves the bed and doesn’t feel any presence of you in the house. “Oh, it’s 9AM. She must be at work already.”

Well, Kuroo’s not wrong. You are at your office but you aren’t working. You’re weeping at your table because you can’t seem to get rid of Kuroo’s words to his friends.

“So (Y/N) and I are trying to work our marriage out for a year, and she’s taking it way too seriously. While I can’t even look at her face! She messages me all the time about where I am, what I’m doing and all of that. She begs me to go on dates and nags at me if I miss it. I want to tell her off sometimes, but she’s a really good fuck. Like she’s amazing in bed and she lets me have it anytime so yeah. I guess it’s worth to stay.”

It keeps repeating in your head like a broken track. And your tears run down your cheeks and you know it won’t stop for a while. You stand from your desk and move to the little bedroom that is in your office. You lay on the bed and bury your face on the pillow.

The moment you heard his words come of his lips last night, you wanted to slap him hard, beat him up, tear his hair off his head, but you couldn’t. You were glued on the wooden floor of Kenma’s house, not able to believe Kuroo could say that. Your heart shattered into pieces that couldn’t be even counted.

But still, you went home with him. Even slept with him.

If your friends, especially Iwaizumi, find out about this, they’ll definitely tell you to leave him. No excuses. And you don’t want to leave Kuroo.

“Where did I go wrong? Is it because I’m ugly?” You take your phone out and open the camera app. “Very ugly right now. This is why he doesn’t want me to post anything about our relationship.”

Someone knocks on your office door so you wipe your tears quickly and open the Netflix app so you can pretend that you’ve been watching a sad movie this whole time.

“(Y/N)? The flowers are here,” Terushima says as he enters your office. “Why are you crying?”

Speaking of Terushima, he and Kuroo have become friends after their fight. When Kuroo picks you up sometimes and Terushima’s also there, you always find the two talking about hair. The blonde even goes to your place sometimes so he can style Kuroo’s hair. It’s their form of bonding so you really don’t have a say about it.

“This drama is just so sad,” you lie, showing him the screen of your phone that is playing a random sad movie.

“I didn’t know you were the type to cry cause of movies,” the blonde chuckles. “Anyways, fix yourself. Because we will be decorating a big function room starting this afternoon.”

“I almost forgot. The client wanted all real flowers right?” You sigh and sit up from your bed. ‘No time for crying. You’re a busy woman.’

“Yeah, so we have to make sure that the flowers will not wither tomorrow,” Terushima confirms.

You brush your issue with Kuroo under the rag and focus on your work instead.

Evening comes quickly and it’s finally time for your team to set up at the function hall. You had to wait until late evening to start since there was an event beforehand. The bestman of the wedding, Yuta, joined your team as the supervisor.

While you are setting up on the stage, you can feel your workmates throwing weird looks at you. “What?” You raise an eyebrow at them and one of your colleagues walks up to you.

“The best man has been staring at you ever since we got her,” she whispers with a teasing smirk. You roll your eyes at her and brush it off.

It’s always like this. At every event, your colleagues ships you with every best man or groomsman that shows interest towards you. They don’t know you’re actually married and think you’re single so they tease you. In hopes that you finally get to plan your own wedding. Sadly, you already are married and no wedding will take place.

You take a glance at the said man and he is staring at you, but not in a creepy way. As soon as you make eye contact, he smiles at you. You swear your heart skips a beat but at the same time you will never admit that it did.

“Miss (L/N)?” Yuta calls you out of nowhere. Surprised by his sudden presence, you fall on the ladder you are on and land on top of him.

‘What in the drama is this?!’

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” You push yourself off of the man quickly and bow repeatedly.

“It’s alright! It’s my fault for surprising you.” Yuta stands up as well and when your eyes meet, you burst into laughter. “You’re much prettier up close.”

“So you’re the straightforward type, huh?” You let out a chuckle and he smirks at you. “I thought you’d be a shy one since you have been just staring until now.”

“Well, since you think I’m the straightforward type, let me ask you. Are you single?” Yuta smiles at you shyly this time and you feel your cheeks burn hot.

‘You’re married, (Y/N)! Don’t even think about flirting back.’ You mentally scold yourself and look away from the man beside you. “Find out yourself.”

The glamorous wedding finally ends and it was one of the best weddings you have every coordinated. The couple is so in love with each other and they are surrounded by supportive family and friends. The guests were very uplifting and fun in general. You even made friends with some of the guests and have gotten closer to Yuta.

“Thank you for planning our wedding. This is such a dream come true!” The bride thanks you with a bow. You bow back and say your thanks as well. “And Yuta’s a good boy.” The bride winks at you before she and groom leaves.

“(Y/N)!” Speaking of the devil.

“Yuta!” You wave at him. He runs towards you and pants when he’s finally in front with you. “Can I help you with something?”

“Do you have a drive home?” He asks you so you shake your head no. You’re just being honest. “Can I drive you to your place?”

“My place is just a 10-minute walk from here, so it’s okay,” you reply. You check the time and it’s already past midnight. “I have to go now. It’s really late. Bye!”

“I’ll walk with you!” Yuta offers. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Okay, then. Whatever makes you sleep at night,” you joke and he just laughs.

The two of you walk home and Yuta shares random stories about his childhood. You like it. You like how he is open to you without you trying. You like how he’s initiating first. You like how gentle he is when he is talking to you. You like how he softly calls your name. You like how he’s not hiding that he’s interested in you. But you hate how you want Kuroo to be like that towards you. You hate how you’re still thinking about him.

Kuroo’s words come crashing into your mind again and you badly want to take Yuta’s hand and ask him to bring you home. But your mind is also telling you to come home quickly to Kuroo, even if you know he won’t be waiting for you.

“I’m here!” You say as you arrive in front of your condominium building. “Thank you for walking me.”

“No problem.” Yuta scratches the back of his neck. A change of demeanor happens, and Yuta becomes shy. “Can I get your number? I want to tak-”

“(Y/N)!”

Your world freezes as you hear Kuroo’s voice. It’s 1AM. Why the hell is he outside your building as well? You turn your head see him glaring at you with his arms crossed.

‘What do I do? Kuroo might misunderstand! And I can’t tell Yuta that Kuroo is my husband because he wants to keep our relationship a secret. Oh my gosh! What to do?’

You’re panicking. Your whole system is. You can feel your fingers tremble. Kuroo is walking towards the two of you and is already so close but you still don’t know what to do and say. The particles in your container are bouncing on the walls of your space rapidly because of pressure, and it’s making your mind go blank. Your fight or flight response is not functioning well.

Kuroo has been waiting for you at your building’s lobby since 10PM. He was waiting for your message about him picking you up at the hotel, but clearly you forgot about that. He thought you forgot because of fatigue but clearly that’s not the case.

Especially now that a man he has never seen before walked you back to your place.

“Who’s this?” Yuta and Kuroo ask in unison. Yuta glares at Kuroo, not liking how provocative the guy looks. Your husband raises an eyebrow at Yuta, his feline-like eyes glaring back at the unfamiliar guy.

“Kuroo, this is my friend Yuta,” you start to introduce but they aren’t even listening to you. They’re in this staring contest you don’t know about.

“And Yuta, this is Kuroo, my brother.”

——————————————————————————

Facts:

Your reactions when you are nervous are driven by the production of hormones and equip us to fight or escape from situations that are dangerous or threatening. This is known as the fight or flight response.

Nervousness can cause stuttering and rambling.

Anxiety may be partly genetic.

People who are anxious are quicker to pick up on changes in facial expressions than those who are but they are less accurate. Thus, it causes misunderstandings.

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aceofwhump · 4 years

Text

Guys

The Weeping Monk.

The Weeping Monk has become my new obsession. I love him. I knew I would because seeing all the gifs of him in tumblr is why I watched in the first place I didn't not expect for him to capture my interest so much. It's not the strongest hyperfixation I've ever had but it is one nonetheless and I'm thrilled. Welcome the list of "Ace's Favorite Whumpees"!!

SPOILERS ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously I got ramble and let some spoilers loose so if you want to watch it still and don't want spoilers just keep scrolling

So not only is Daniel Sharman fucking gorgeous but Daniel Sharman looking like this?

With the eyes and the hood and the darkness and the scruff. Oh hell yeah! He's like some omen of death with that cloak. I love it.

So why do I like the Weeping Monk so much?

Well first of all I LOVE A GOOD REDEMPTION STORY!!!!! Like so much! I blame Zuko for that. But if you give me a bad dude who's done some bad shit but also has one hell of a traumatic past then put him on a path of redemption and healing? I’M SOLD! And at the end of the season, The Weeping Monk has been set on his redemption beginnings and I will die if Netflix doesn't give us a season 2 so I can see this boy walk his new path towards redemption and healing. I crave it.

But anyway. This man right here. The emotional angst and whump he exudes is so lovely.

Towards the end of the season we find out that he's Fey and I fucking lost my shit. This boy is a Fey who was raised by the people who hate Fey. His people were killed and he was taken as a child by the same people who murdered them. He was then brainwashed to believe he was demon born and evil and a sinner purely for existing and was taught to punish himself for it (he whips himself in a form of self flagellation!) and I'm sure he was punished for all sorts of things growing up by his "Father". The amount of self hate and self doubt he must feel breaks my heart. He knows he's Fey! He remembers his real name (also that reveal sent me to another plane of existence) so he must have some memories of his family and his people. But he's spent his whole life being used as a weapon against his own people and brainwashed into thinking he was saving them because fey are inherently damned. And that's all he is to the Red Paladins. A weapon. But he sees them as his people, his family because that's all he knows!

This dude is so broken and brainwashed and lost it just breaks my heart.

LOOK AT HIM!! Look at this lost and broken boy!! He just needs some love and affection dammit!! I mean he flat out asks "Do you love me Father?" AHHH!!

And oh my god this conversation between him and Gawain?!

Allow me to share the whole conversation because I need to talk about it.

Gawain: Don’t be afraid Ash Man. I don’t bite. It’s those eyes. The mark of the Ash Fold. There haven’t been any in these lands for centuries. How did you find your way here? Have you just come to watch me die?

The Weeping Monk: Why didn’t you tell them? Before...you could have told them. But you didn’t. Why?

G: Because all Fey are brothers. Even the lost ones

WM: This suffering, it will cleanse you.

G: You parrot these words, but you know it’s all lies. I can feel it in you, my brother.

WM: You are not my brother.

G: They have turned your mind so far inside out...that you don’t know the difference between kindness...and hate. Who did this to you?

WM: We are saving souls. Your soul.

G: Tell that to the little ones that you burn.

WM: I don’t harm the children

G: You burn their homes, you slay their mothers and their fathers, and you watch your Red Brothers run them down on horses. And you see it all through those weeping eyes. That makes you guilty. Brother! You can fight. I’ve never seen anything like it. You could be our greatest warrior. Your people need you.

WM: You are not my people.

G: Then tell them. If this is where you belong, tell them what you are.

WM: I’ll pray for you.

G: And I you.

First of all this conversation is the reason I now ship these two. Just saying. Gawain saw that he was kin, that he was lost, that he was broken and reached out to try and help him even though he is the reason he is being tortured. I can’t with these two! But also, the WM felt guilty about turning him in and worried about his own fate but you can tell that Gawain’s words sink in and set something inside of him and it’s because of Gawain that WM is now on this path of his. AND Gawain! I fully expected him to hate this man after everything hes done but he saw a lost and broken fey brother and tried to help him and I just...Gawain is so good you guys! This whole exchange is just *chefs kiss*. Cause after this the WM saves Squirrel.

Which leads me to Squirrel and the Weeping Monk. The other reason I desperately need season 2 is because I can't wait to see this unexpected pairing. I mean come on, big bag tough guy with trauma becomes unexpectedly joined with a young child? Best trope ever. Plus he got his ass kicked pretty bad and I need season 2 start off with that so I can see Squirrel take care of this injured man. Anyway, these two are going to have a great adventure getting back to the Fey and I NEED TO SEE IT!!! I want to see Squirrel and Lancelot bond and Squirrel defend him against Fey who hate him and for Lancelot to reluctantly become attached and defensive of this Fey boy and AHHHHHH!!

Oh and side note: One of my favorite tropes occurred. Defeated in battle, manhandled to their knees and hood pulled off revealing their bruised and bloody face. God yes please.

Time for some headcanons:

Okay he's totally touch starved am I right? This boy hasn't known a kind touch in his whole life. Pain is all he's known. The Paladins only touch to punish him or wield him. And he thinks he deserves it. He deserves the pain. The punishment. But kindness? A soft touch? Someone tending his injuries gently? He doesnt know what to do it that. He ends up stiffening or flinching away from the blinds hands of the fey, confused at first but slowly he starts to crave that kind touch.

Squirrel is always hugging him. Like whenever he sees him. And WM doesnt know what the fuck to do with that. You think he ever for hugged? I DOUBT IT! So hes all stiff and awkward and kind of bears it but after a while he starts hugging back kind of awkwardly.

Oh and speaking of tending his injuries I can almost guarantee that he has either had to tend to his own injuries in the past or he didn't do anything for them at all. But he's in a Fey camp now and the Fey help each other so when he and squirrel first show up at the camp and a he's taken to a healer and at first he balks and is like "I'm fine" but people like Pym and Squirrel and Gawain (YES GAWAIN! I have thoughts hang on) are like clearly you're not so just sit down before fall down again and let Pym heal you! AND then we get a scene of them all seeing the scars and fresh lashes and being horrified

Okay Gawain. He's not dead and he and Lancelot become best bros (or lovers cause I kind of ship them so much. Forget Nimulot. It's Gawain and Lancelot all the way) and Gawain protects him from the Fey who want to kill him after Squirrel and Lancelot arrive at the makeshift Fey camp and he's taken prisoner. Gawain watches him and see his humanity and goodness and self hate and trauma and Lancelot has someone who sees him as a "brother" as someone lost but not irredeemable and they fall in love okay bye

His powers as one of the Ash Folk. We know he can track. But from what we saw what if he's also got some camouflage or healing abilities hes never explored. NEVER EXPLORED BECAUSE HE THOUGHT IT A MANIFESTATION OF HIS INNER DEMON!!!

Also, I saw these two onset pics and now I'm ready for this to be s2 WM and Squirrel.

Okay rant over. Sorry. Bye now ✌

#cursed spoilers #cursed netflix #cursed #the weeping monk #daniel sharman #mod post #ace rambles about her favs #new whumpee #new fav #my whumpees

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