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#been thinking a lot about them for the past few days
hellodropbear · 3 days
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like she used to
alexia putellas x sister
i have been writing this for ages and it has just sat in my documents folder since january. i don't usually post stuff i write so this will probably get taken down at some point. i've written 13k words so far but this is just the first 4k.
~~~~~~
I hadn't expected to get the call up, not at all really. But Mapi tore her meniscus and apparently the first team found themselves in need of a backup centre back and I was the best option from the B team. It's a compliment, really. Mami is very proud of me and she is excited for me and my sister to play together in a few weeks, even though she is still recovering from her surgery and I will probably not make it off the bench. I am only 15 and 10 months, usually they wait until you are at least 16 and a bit before you can play. 
But, I don't really know how to feel. Thankfully Alexia won't be in training with me for now and I try to avoid thinking about what will happen when she eventually gets better and I have to face her again.
Alexia is my older sister by a lot. There's a 14 year age gap between us and I used to completely and utterly idolise her. She and Alba were two superheroes, always by my side when I needed them. I put them on a pedestal like they were the greatest human beings to ever walk the planet. To me back then, they were. 
I was only four when my father died. All I remember from that time was the big black invisible sheet that hung outside his study and the dark and scary emotions that swallowed our house whole. Alba and Alexia would argue about who got to cuddle me at night and I was so unaware what was happening that I would happily agree, wiping away their tears when it all got too much. 
The death of our father made our family unit stronger. Mami, Ale, Alba and Elena - it was all any of us needed and we supported each other in whatever ways we could. 
Mami had to pick up more shifts at her job, so she couldn't pick me up from school. Alexia had just got her license so she would come in a break during training and pick me up in her training gear. 
Alexia didn't have time to drop me off at home so I would sit and watch the training with whoever wanted to give me company when they were injured. 
Most days, Alba would come and pick me up and take me on the bus all the way home. She would play cartoons on the TV as she sat at the table and did school work. Some days, when she had the time she would sit with me and watch Alexia's training and we'd all go home together. Alba used to say she enjoyed the training. Looking back, I think she just wanted a free ride home and an excuse to not do her homework. 
As I grew up, everything just worked. Alexia and Alba were still living at home as a support to Mami and everything was perfect. My sisters were my idols, my Mami was my shining star. She still is. She would do anything for her daughters, as long as it meant we were all happy. 
That is why it has been so hard for her over the past two years. 
I have not been happy, not really. My football has been thriving, I have represented my country in the under 17 age group and I am a consistent starter idol the Barcelona B team. I spent two years in La Masia before they sent me to the B team last year and I have only been improving since. Everything is going well. Mami says I have had a better start to my career than Alexia did. 
Maybe that is why Alexia hates me. Maybe Mami is just saying that to make me feel better about it.
Alexia and I, despite the 14 year age gap, were always inseparable - for the first 12 years of my life. She was at every single school event, football game, she picked me up from trainings when she could and would train me herself in the garden. We shared a common passion that Alba was not interested in at all - we both love football, we eat, sleep and breath it. Football is everything. She was the one who gave me that mentality. 
"Football is life, Lena, you are lucky you are so good because now you also get to live football and hermanita, it is the most incredible thing." 
She had whispered that to me when I was 11. We were sat on the beach, a place we visited frequently throughout my childhood, both of us staring out at the reflection of the moon on the sea. Alba was fast asleep, her head in Alexia's lap as she snored lightly, completely oblivious to our conversation. 
It all fell apart over three years ago, although I don't have the first clue as to why. 
It was not an explicit event that ruined everything, more my older sister growing up and flying the nest that was so secure and established over years and years of shared success, happiness, failure and grief. She moved out of home long before that, but her split with Jenni upset her, I think, a great deal. I wouldn't know because she didn't really tell me anything - that was strictly Alba's business. 
I didn't even know they had broken up until 5 months after it actually happened. 
"Mami, why does Jenni never come over any more?" 
It was an innocent and normal question, but the look on my mother's face told me everything. Everything about Jenni and everything about my sister. 
I think that was the first knock. She hadn't done anything wrong but I had loved Jenni and Jenni had loved me. I would have thought that she would have told me they broke up. Maybe she didn't want to, maybe she just forgot. She does a lot of that these days. 
Before she and Jenni broke up, she still came to all of my games. She never missed one game before I transferred to La Masia and would insist on taking me out to ice cream after every one. She would tease me for not scoring like she does, even though I play as a centre back. 
"You need some training from Mapi, she is a centre back and has the most lethal free kick, hermanita! She is the best defender I have played with, but don't tell her I said that. I think you will grow up to be better than her." 
She was excited that day, I had made a few good saves and I think that was the first time she really saw that I had the potential to be great. 
I remember the first game she was late to. I noticed immediately but we both pretended she was on time - she only made it to the last 10 minutes but I put it down as traffic or being caught up at training. She was busy, it takes a lot to be La Reina. 
I remember the first game she missed entirely. She wasn't there at the beginning and she wasn't there at the end. I was 13 and I didn't have a phone yet so I couldn't call Mami and ask her to come pick me up because Alexia was too busy. I told myself it was because she was too busy. I didn't want to say she had forgotten because that was too hard for me to handle. 
I remember vividly sitting outside the stadium as the sun set. My coach had asked where my sister was, I was a bit stuck with what to say but I managed to convince her I was fine and she could go home. 
Alba came and picked me up after work that night. It was dark and she looked sad but when I asked if she was ok, she just shrugged her shoulders and said everything would be fine. 
I found out from Mami a few weeks later that Alba was sad because I had never once been forgotten anywhere. Alba saw that as the destruction of our strong family. I suppose she was not wrong. 
Alexia never said anything about that game but she was at the next. She didn't take me out for ice cream after, instead patting my head and telling me she would drop me off at Mami's work. 
"I have things to do, Elena, I am very busy. Hopefully soon Mami will let you catch the bus on your own. Maybe Alba can take you soon so you know the correct routes." 
Her words hurt more than I could admit to myself, I told myself to stop being pathetic. Mami asked why I was crying when I walked into her office. I told her I had played terribly and she comforted me. I think she knew I was lying. I think that is why she had tears in her eyes when she released me from her grip-like hold.
Since that day, Alexia has been to 3 of my games. She went to one more of my old club games but she was sat beside Alba, her eyes glued to her phone the entire match. I was so unfocused that the ball deflected off my face and we conceded. I was taken off with a bleeding nose but when I looked up in the stands, my sister was still staring at her phone. Alba had run down the stairs and was by my side when I entered the little sick bay. 
I cried then too. Most people thought it was because of the bleeding nose or the conceded goal. Alba knew that wasn't the real reason. 
The penultimate game she watched was the final of the under 15s Catalonia cup. I don't know what she did during the game because Mami told me not to look up. She said she didn't want me to get distracted but I think she meant to say she didn't want me to get hurt. 
I think I still idolised Alexia at that point in time. She was still my older sister and she was still the best player in the world. She still had weekly dinners at home, although she wouldn't sit next to me and sneakily take all the food I didn't want off my plate anymore. She stopped staying to watch a movie after dinner even though my favourite part of the week was falling asleep in her lap as her hands combed softly through my hair. 
I remember when I was accepted into La Masia, Mami held a nice big dinner. It was right in the middle of covid so it was technically illegal, but we had a lot of my family over. Mami invited a few of the Barcelona girls as well and Mapi and Leila reminded me of what it used to be like before Alexia stopped loving me. 
The reminder of the before was more painful than I liked to admit, and the night ended when the tears that had been burning in the back of my eyes finally spilled out as I was talking to Mapi. 
She immediately pulled me into her arms and asked what was wrong and I struggled to find a lie that would be believable. 
I settled on saying I was upset about everything changing - which I suppose was true. 
I remember Alexia looking mortified and breaking eye contact as soon as I looked at her. She told me off that evening when Mami was in the shower and Alba was talking to someone else. She told me I needed to be grateful for everything I have been given and that she paved the way for me. 
It was even worse when she said I would never achieve the things she has. She said it was because I didn't have the mentality that she did, that I had it all so easy. 
It hurt the most when she told me she was disappointed in the person I was. 
"I hope we never share a shirt, Elena, because the day you play in the first Barcelona team is the day that we have run out of players. It will mean that football players are week and female footballers can not be weak. You do not have it in you to be like me, to do what I have done to get to where I am."
The venom in her voice sent a cold shiver down my spine and I felt like I had been stabbed. I didn't cry that time. I waited until I was in my bedroom to sob my heart out. 
The last time she ever watched me play was the next day, but she didn't have an option not to. I played terribly, my first game as a La Masia student, my sisters words repeating over and over in my head. 
That was really what tipped the relationship I once shared with Alexia on its head. The pedestal I had put her on was destroyed and suddenly she was just another player. I barely saw her as my sister any more. She couldn't love me, you wouldn't be able to hurt someone you love so much. 
I have barely seen her since. She still comes to our family dinners on Thursday nights - she still very much loves Alba and our Mami. But I tell Mami that I have training with Barcelona B late on Thursdays. It finishes at 6 and dinner starts at 7, but I just organise to go to my friends' houses for dinner instead. 
Sometimes we both have dinner together at home, but it is awkward and I hate it. I think she has probably forgotten about what she said to me in June of 2021, but I don't think I will ever be able to. 
She doesn't like me, but it's ok because I have learnt to accept that. But I will never not love my sister because she was once everything to me. 
~~~~~~
"Pequena Putellas!" Patri's excited shriek is what welcomes me into the dressing room on my first day. She tackles me into a hug and squeezes me tight. "It has been such a long time, mi favorita!" 
The last time I saw Patri was only last year at the champions league final. I had sat with my whole family but I went to the bathroom when everyone else went and spoke to the players. I don't think Patri would have seen me. 
I can only smile as she continues. 
"I remember you as the little 8 year old who would sit and watch our training sessions after school! I was so confused by you when I first arrived here, you know. I remember the first time Ale let you play a game with us and you were so good!" 
"Nobody doubted that you would be on this team one day!" A new voice entered the conversation.
"Marta!" I hugged the brunette closely. She was always one of my favourites. 
"I am proud of you, pequena putellas." 
Her words are familiar as I have heard them out of my mothers voice time and time again my whole life. But they seem foreign coming from Marta and it is an unwanted reminder of my sister. I don't know why - maybe it is because I have always associated this Barcelona team with her. I don't remember the last time she said she was proud of me. 
I don't remember the last time she said anything to me, really. 
"Gracias, Marta, I have missed you." I bury my head into her neck and she holds me closer. 
"You have not been around as much since you transferred to La Masia. I wanted to come and watch but Ale never extended an invitation and I didn't want to overstep." I shake my heads at her words and she frowns. 
"Alexia doesn't have time for my games, she hasn't for a while. It takes a lot to be La Reina." 
Marta's frown deepens at my words and the attention of a few spanish players is captured. I should have spoken quieter, I forgot how many people in here speak catalan. 
"It is ok, she is very supportive, but she just can't come to my games. She makes it up in other ways." I am lying through my teeth but Marta will never know. 
"I am sure, she must be very proud of you, being selected in this team for the first time, it is a big deal, you are very young."
All I can do is nod, my energy is all being put into holding back my own tears. I don't know if Mami told her. I don't know if Alexia even knows that I was selected. 
"Get changed now, I am sure Jona will want to talk to you before the session, especially with the game tomorrow."
I nod again as Marta pats me on the back and walk over to the cubby that says my name. It feels a bit surreal, really. 
I never really thought I would see my name on a Barcelona cubby, accompanied by my new number that I chose in the meeting a few days ago. It was always a dream, but I never thought it was achievable. Alexia always seemed like a superstar, a superhuman of sorts and I would never reach that kind of level. 
But here I am in the team that I always wanted to be in - in no way am I anywhere near my sisters level but I am on my way to being like her. I just wish she cared. I wish she was proud of me like Marta is. 
Her cubby sits across from me and I try to tear my eyes from it but it sits and stares right back at me. I feel like an intruder in Alexia's space, this is not for me, she would not want me to be here. 
I tie my laces quickly after that and head out onto the pitches to begin training. 
I have trained with the first team twice before, but the Barcelona Bs were always slightly seperate and we could keep our distance from the first players. Jonatan is a familiar face and I feel comfortable as he smiles and me and motions for me to follow the others to the gym. 
It is weird, being promoted within my own club. I am not so much a new signing, but a replacement - I am not good enough to be in the first team but they had no other options when Mapi injured herself. 
I used to worry that people would say I only get opportunities because my last name is Putellas. When my sister told me I was weak all those years ago, that idea sort of cemented in my head, I suppose. 
I never told my Mami what her daughter said to me because it would upset her. I told Alba half of it when she found me crying in my room a few days later but made her promise to not tell anyone. She couldn't say anything to Mami, Alexia, anyone at all because it would only make Alexia think I was weaker. 
She was furious and tried to tell me it was untrue but it had already been said. I believed Alexia's word more than anyone else. To me, she was a superhuman. 
But when I spoke to Jonatan a few days ago he made me feel like I was wanted within this squad. He made it clear that he wants me to integrate completely into the squad in the next few years and that he can see me playing soon even though I am only 15. 
I told him I didn't want anything special because of my surname. 
He told me that he chose me because of my first name. 
"Elena Putellas,"  he said with a grin, "you may be as good as her, but you are not your sister. This is a professional environment. As long as you perform, which I know you will, nobody will care what your name is."
It was a big boost to my confidence. 
Aitana Bonmati caught up to me quickly as I walked to the gym. 
"You are big now." I chuckled but did not look over, I didn't need to really. "But not that big. You are only 15, si?"
"Yes, I am 15." 
I met Aitana when she first joined the club. She always used to say that she would steal me and take me home with her because she thought I was adorable. It is strange that I am now sort of in the same team as her. 
She started playing for the first team when I was 8. I was older then, I played my own football and liked staying with Alexia so I could kick a ball around with her teammates when they were done. 
Aitana was one of the few who would stay every time I was there. When Alexia didn't want to wait she would drive me home herself, all the way to the other side of Barcelona. We would always stop for ice cream on the way home. 
"I have not seen you in too long, Lena. I have missed you a lot but you have been doing very well in the B team. I am very proud and I take credit for your abilities." She spoke in such a dead pan voice but it was somehow still filled with emotion. 
"I have missed you too, ABC." It was a nickname I gave her the first time she drove me home. I had been learning about the alphabet in English class and had the little song stuck in my head when she told me her full name. I used to sing her initials in the tune of the song but it quickly merged to me just saying the three letters. 
"I have been to a few of your games, you know?" 
I look at her in confusion, I have never seen her there. She just nods. 
"Alexia never invited any of us but she was never at the ones I went to so I would sit in the stands with a hat and glasses so people wouldn't recognise me, but I was there. I went to your La Masia games as well. You have become a phenomenal player, Lena."
She has always spoken with such sincerity. I have missed her a lot. 
"Maybe you can drop me off at home again tonight? I have missed you."
She chuckles and pulls me into a side hug. 
"I was waiting for you to ask, little Lena. Oh you are not so little any more!"
I chuckle as well and let my head fall onto her shoulder as we enter the gym. My eyes scan the room, looking at all of the players on their equipment, nerves quickly settling inside me. 
"Don't worry, it's all easy." Aitana seems to read my mind. "Just come with me and I will show you how to do everything. It will become second nature in the next few days."
The gym session went quickly as I was taught all the different exercises. I was familiar with most of them, having done a very similar program in the past with the B team. 
We went out onto the field to do some drills and I played well. Jonatan was impressed and so were the first players. My teammates? Maybe, not quite, I don't think. I still haven't been in a team list, so I suppose I'll be their teammate when that eventually happens. 
It wasn't until we reached the ice cream shop that Aitana started asking me all the awkward questions. I should have seen it coming. 
"Why do you never come to our games anymore, Lena?" I was very grateful for the scoops of gelato in my hands. Eating it delayed my response as I tried to come up with something to say. I shrug as I eat.
I can not say it is because I do not get along with Alexia. It is too hard for me to say now, even after all these years. 
"I'm not sure. I suppose I got busy with my own training and school. I have been to a few but I usually go home with Alba pretty quickly after they finish." It is only half a lie but she just shrugs, apparently not believing my words. 
"And why is it that I am driving you home from your first ever first team training? I thought Alexia would have wanted to." I anticipated a question like this but that does not mean I wanted her to actually ask it. 
"Alexia is busy." I hope that Aitana understands I don't want to talk about it. I haven't spoken about my broken relationship with my sister to anyone. I think she can sense something is wrong though, because she puts her spoon back into her ice cream and grabs my arm so I am staring right at her. 
"If you ever want to talk, I am right here, Lena. I know you don't like people knowing what is going on inside that crazy head of yours but it is good to release your feelings." 
She definitely knows something is wrong so I appreciate her not pushing. 
"I have outlets, I play football, I play the piano, I am ok, aitana, I really am." 
She eyed me as if to say she didn't believe me but dropped the topic anyway. 
"When did you get so good?"
chapter II
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aka-indulgence · 2 days
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Imminent Threat: Baby Pictures Confirmed!
I was bitten by the inspiration bug and I do love this idea a lot, heheh…
Wanna see what happens if HT!Sans catches a glimpse of your baby pictures?
(HT!Sans x Female!Reader)
(No warnings just be prepared for silly, fluff, and cute (aggression))
——————
Sans twiddles his thumbs, watching you leave with the dishes into the kitchen. Your parents had forbidden him from doing the dishes.
“You made us this wonderful meal! It’s her turn on the chores anyway,”
“What! I come home to see you and you’re just making me do chores?”
“Yes! It’s to catch up on all the chores you missed these past few months! Hahahah!”
He turned to you and whispered a pathetic little “sorry,” but you waved him off.
“It’s ok, I’m used to it. Might as well treat them since I can’t cook like you, right? Keep them company.”
So here he was, sitting on the table, feeling like he was going to expel the meal he just ate, watching your parents wipe their lips with tissue like they were about to interrogate him.
“So, how’s living with (Y/n) like?”
“good.” no no. too fast. talk more. “she…… she’s nice.”
nice? is that all i have to say about her?
“Ah. That’s good to hear,” your dad replies, taking a sip of tea from a mug.
i guess if i said the other things i thought of her, they’d probably want to take her away from me.
“Hey, I hope she’s more active than how she used to be. She used to stay home for days, and we’d have to remind her to go outside and get some sun!” Your mom chortles, and Sans rubs the back of his neck.
“a… actually… she’s the one that wants to leave the house now. i don’t… like leaving. the house is nicer.” Sans forces a grin, but he can’t tell if it’s coming off as awkward or spine-chillingly horrifying.
He can’t gauge how your parents reacted. Your dad smirked, and your mom tilted her head. What does that mean? Do they not approve? Sans usually prides himself in being able to read people like a book- even after the head injury. But his skull is full of thoughts.
“I imagine you’d have to stay at home to hone that cooking skill, then?” Your mom offered, “that stew was amazing! The blend of herbs and spices, the broth wasn’t too thick or thin, and the meat was cooked to perfection…”
Your dad chuckles. “I don’t know about cooking as much as my wife does, but I’ll tell you what, that’s one hell of a stew you’ve got. You could probably start a restaurant,”
“heh… heh you think?” His grin turns more genuine as his cheeks turn a tinge of dark blue.
“How did you learn to cook so well, Sans? Did you go to culinary school?” Your mom pries.
“oh… no actually, i learnt it all myself,” Sans explains, “back in the underground we didn’t have much to go on but we didn’t want to eat something completely tasteless so i learnt how to make things taste good with what we had…”
Sans realizes too late that maybe he brought up the underground a bit too casually, because all of a sudden your mom looks stricken with guilt, and your dad looks awfully uncomfortable.
“O-oh, I’m so sorry Sans, I didn’t mean to…”
“no no. i-i brought it up, you don’t have to apologize,”
Is he smiling too much? Should he be frowning? Wait hold on he’s looking at your mom too much, he should look at your dad now. Oh he’s looking away…
Why was he so bad at this? He’s relied on looking scary and stopping everyone from trying to talk to him. B-but he likes your parents, they’re nice, some of the few humans that actually look past his scary face and see him as… sort of harmless?
Your dad broke the silence.
“Yes, I’ve always tried to make the most of my meals. Like when I have crumbs I’d toss them near the anthill we used to have in the backyard. Hahah, one time when (Y/n) was very little she saw me throw breadcrumbs and asked me what I was doing. I told her I was feeding the ants, and she must have been really impressed with that idea… because,”
Your dad got into a fit of giggles, and Sans perks up.
“Tch… hih! Because the next day I found her standing in front of the anthill… with bread on top of it. Whole wheat, whole bread slice. I asked her what she was doing! And she said ‘I’m feeding the ants!’ She looked so proud I had to take a picture of her! I think I have it on my phone,”
Sans mouth opens. He all but quaked in his chair, having to physically restrain from grabbing your dad’s phone.
“m-m…” Sans coughs trying to regain composure, “may i see it,”
“On it, just… give me a sec…” Sans watched as your dad scrolled and scrolled, until…
“Found it,”
He turned his phone around.
There you were, no older than 3, in a little bucket hat, sleeveless shirt and shorts, with tiny flip flops. You had a bright, sunshine smile on your face, and humorously… a slice of bread sitting amidst the grass and dirt just a foot or two away from you.
Sans’ eyelights shrinks, his grin gone. Carefully, he takes the phone out of your dad’s hands and zooms in on your face. You had dimples in your cheeks, and they… they looked so plump like little squishballs. Your eyes were round and sparkled in the sun. His hands shook.
He must’ve looked unhinged.
“What do you think?” Your mom asked.
“sh…… she’s so small……” Sans breaths, then swallows, turning to your dad. “d… d’you… do you have more…?”
Your dad snorts, his arms crossed. “‘Do you have more’ he says,” he scoffs. “Kid, we have an entire baby album.”
****
You tuned out of the conversation in the kitchen, earphones plugging your ears, a tried and true ‘dish washing’ playlist playing as your background music. It was a nice break. You’re happy to see your parents again, but they can be a bit overbearing at times… ask Sans odd questions about monsters, sometimes mention how tiny you look next to your boyfriend (which had Sans hiding his face… they thought he was offended but he was mortified, worried your parents were hinting at how he was like with you in private).
Though you certainly didn’t miss doing chores back home, you did see it as a bit of a reprieve.
But then over the music, you heard laughter… loud laughter. It didn’t sound like your dad. And Sans doesn’t usually laugh that hard. It started soft at first but it got louder and louder, until you were sure that was Sans. What were they doing to him? It almost sounded like they found his most ticklish bone and was torturing him with him.
A laugh startled you so bad you almost dropped a clean plate onto the floor. You took off an earphone just in time for your mom to walk in.
“Hi dear, this is your dad’s, he’s finished his tea. You don’t have to wash it if you don’t want to…”
“Yea, ok-” you say, distracted and looking over your mom’s shoulder as if you could see what was causing all the ruckus. “What is happening???”
“Oh,” your mom laughed, “Sans is such a sweet, delightful monster. Your dad’s showing him your baby pictures-”
“Excuse me my WHAT?!!”
You threw the gloves onto the sink counter, washed your hands hastily, and yanked the other earphone off, tossing them haphazardly into a pocket. Tripping over your feet to sprint into the room, though you realize you’re too late.
Sans is vibrating on the sofa, having migrated from the table it seems. His eyelight was blown wide, the widest you’ve seen it, glued to the open book in front of him. Your dad flipped a page, looking unaware of the murderous skeleton next to him.
“And here… oh this was on a trip to the beach. She’d gotten scared of water because of a wave too big had brought her out from shore and her legs couldn’t reach the sand. It wasn’t out to sea or anything, but when you’re that small it must’ve been scary. But the hotel had a pool and I couldn’t have my daughter stay afraid of water… this was after a fun session of swimming in floaties and being swung into the pool.”
“ah… HAHAHAH! bright… orange…!”
It was clear to you now. Sans wasn’t laughing from something funny. He was overjoyed. So overjoyed he can’t contain it in himself that he just bursts with it. His eyelights warbled. They looked like hearts shimmering under a running river.
You grabbed your head in despair. “No, no no- what have you done!”
Your dad had looked up immediately, while Sans’ didn’t, holding onto the album. Though… his grin had twisted into something dark.
Dad took a photo out, the one he was just explaining: a picture of you laughing in orange floaties, floral swimwear, carried by your dad in a clear blue pool, looking up at the camera. The sides of the picture were slightly yellow.
“Do you remember this, poppy? It’s weird to think you were ever scared of water now… it’s hard to stop you from swimming, nowadays,”
You can’t help but smile in your heart a little. It brought back happy memories of travelling with your parents when you were little.
Unfortunately, there are far more pressing matters at the moment.
“No, wait, dad… what did you do?”
“What?”
“You… you showed Sans my baby pictures?”
“Baby and toddler pictures,” your dad corrected. “Also there’s no need to be embarrassed, I feel like it’s a right of passage to have your baby pictures shown to your significant other by your parents.”
“No, I’m not embarrassed,” you shake your hands helplessly, “it’s just… Sans is gonna kill me,”
There was an incident, almost a year ago now. You were shuffling through some things you found in a box you never unpacked… at the bottom you found a polaroid of you rolled up in a baby blue blanket and, admittedly, looking pretty darned cute.
You showed it to Sans, innocently. It’s cute, you can admit it, and you knew Sans would appreciate it.
Oh how naive you were.
He held the picture, stared at it. Was at a loss for words, though he kept trying to form them helplessly, bringing it close to his face like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then he muttered.
“b… baby…… b… baby…”
Then he went crazy. Picking you up, not listening to your protests- usually when Sans gets in a cuddly mood he ignores your complaints but that time, it was like he really couldn’t hear you. His pupil was blown wide and constantly shifted from heart to circle. He squashed you in bed, smooshed your cheeks, kissed you until you were gasping for breath- you don’t even think it’s a sexual thing, he was just overcome with cute aggression!
It wasn’t a one time thing either. Carelessly, you’d leave the picture propped up on the window as a cute memento aesthetic… thing, maybe, but every time Sans looked at the picture too long, he’d get into his violent cuddly moods and kidnap you to the bedroom to squish you. Eventually you had to hide it to avoid inducing anymore ‘cute-induced murderous rage’ in him.
And your parents just opened pandora’s box for you.
Your brows furrow in worry as Sans looks up from the album to you, his eyelight tightening into just a fraction of what it was before, zeroing in on you. His grin was wide and deranged. He chuckled, a low, threatening sound.
“heh heh… i’m going to crush you.”
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doingsfine · 2 days
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I wasn't gonna say anything but well lol first of all, fyi, I’m a BLACK person and some things are really bothering me rn. I'll just say smth: It’s good that WNBA has so many new fans rn. But I also know that many white ppl are watching now bc of some players and that’s fine. I’m not judging cause that’s normal.
I hope you guys know that WNBA is mostly made up of black women too. The WNBA has a history, politics and a lot of activism. That won’t change. I was thinking abt some stuff I’ve been reading lately on twitter, tumblr and ESPECIALLY on tiktok.
I saw a video on tiktok about Nika and her teammate? Saying “save/free her”. And bro. That’s not a joke. It’s always a black player and a white girl who you guys love (and this is NOT a post against Nika since I love her too). Thank god I’m not seeing nothing about aces and kate, but once some ppl think that something weird is happening, then we will see the same thing. White ppl always want to demonize black players. And that’s racism.
Ofc you can disagree with some behaviors, that’s what life is about! But there have been a LOT of speeches in the past few days where Chicago Sky players are as predators and violents. And they’re black people. Like??? You can’t just go around saying that black ppl are violent when this sport is about THAT lol this discourse is extremely racist. You guys see a black woman fighting with a white woman and the first you do is portray the white girl as a poor girl? tf is that man. It’s a fucking sport. They don’t hate each other???? lol its RIVALRY on the court Lmfao pls be frrrrrr. It’s just trash talk. It’s just sport. They DONT hate each other off the court. Leave them alone.
DISCLAIMER: This IS NOT a post against Caitlin, I really like her. But also I’m a BLACK person and that’s my opinion.
Please, educate yourself and stop being a little shit. Thanks!
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malk1ns · 2 days
Note
Most definitely talking about Sid's upcoming heat and Sid's yapping that he doesn't need any help but Geno knows he will get a call the first night of a whimpering and desperate Sid
👀
"Stop scenting me," Sid snaps the second Zhenya sits down.
Zhenya rolls his eyes. He hasn't even caught his breath from his last shift. Fuck this altitude, and honestly, fuck the Avs too, Sid's cozy little friendship with MacKinnon be damned.
"I'm serious," Sid continues, scooting down the bench to make room for Rusty, who practically dives over the boards to avoid a too many men. Zhenya obediently scoots along with him, grabbing Rusty around the waist to keep him steady.
"Thanks," Rusty wheezes, and Zhenya pats his shoulder before turning back to Sid.
Sid's glaring at him. He hates being ignored under normal circumstances, and it only gets worse when he's careening towards heat—a fact that Sid is strenuously denying.
"Sorry," Zhenya says, making his eyes big and ducking his head. "Smell good, Sid, can't help it."
Sid's eyes narrow. After so many years, he's wise to Zhenya's tricks, and he's apparently not far enough into pre-heat to fall for them anyway. Zhenya adjusts his mental calculations forward a day. "I don't know what you think you're smelling, but it's not me. I'm not due for another two weeks, and we talked about this. I don't need you this time."
"Okay," Zhenya says placidly, tapping Sid's knee. Sid's cute when he gets all worked up and indignant like this.
"Hey—" Sid sputters, probably picking up Zhenya's amusement, but then coach is tapping his line in, so Sid can't do anything but glare as he swings over the boards.
Zhenya watches as he swings a big arc towards the goal, changing direction so abruptly that the d-man shadowing him loses an edge and hits the ice. Sid turns to snap at the guy, and Zhenya readjusts his math again, this time back a few hours.
Pissing Sid off always makes things move faster.
-
They drop the game in OT, but that's okay. They played well, better than they have since the trade deadline, and the shock of losing Jake is finally starting to wear off. Sid doesn't look hollowed-out whenever he looks to his left any more, and Bunting is the exact type of yappy, determined presence on Zhenya's wing that he's always played best with. The postseason is still a reach, but suddenly the games they're playing seem like they mean something again, and that's all Zhenya wants, really.
Playoffs are nice, but Zhenya's old enough now that he doesn't live and die by each individual season anymore. If he can keep his production up for a few more years, avoid major injury and quiet the people who constantly call for him to be traded, he'll be happy.
Well. That, and getting Sid to finally admit that what they've been doing for nearly two decades now isn't just friends helping each other out. But Zhenya can be patient on that front.
Seeing Jake in Carolina colors is hard, and Zhenya discreetly wipes his eyes during the tribute video. Sid doesn't bother, staring up at the enormous new jumbotron with shiny eyes. The win makes it easier to stomach, though, and Jake stops by the locker room after the game, lingering well past when the Hurricanes' bus must have left for the hotel.
He and Sid talk for a long, long time, tucked away in a hallway while Rusty and Zhenya linger, ready to head off any media that comes this direction. They're left alone, though, and when Jake finally slips past them, he's knuckling at his eyes. Zhenya politely doesn't mention it when he pulls Jake into one last hug.
Sid's marching for the parking lot, and Zhenya has to hustle to catch up with him. When he draws even, he practically trips over his feet—Sid smells ripe, fertile and alluring, like he's minutes from dropping into heat. Surely he feels it by now.
Sid slides him a sharp glare. "Don't fucking start," he mutters, angling away when Zhenya leans towards him. "You were right, okay? But it doesn't mean anything."
Zhenya takes a deep inhale and consciously steps to the side, giving Sid his space. "Call if you need," is all he says, cutting towards his car and speeding up before he can give into the impulse to manhandle Sid back to his house and his bed and keep him there.
"I won't!" Sid calls across the garage. Zhenya shakes his head.
-
It doesn't always go this way. Sometimes Sid invites him back, sends him texts like i think it's starting soon and would you mind...? as if any alpha in their right mind would turn Sidney Crosby in heat down. He gets squirrelly when it happens too many times in a row, though, acts like Zhenya's going to hold him down and bite his claim into Sid's neck without permission, and tries to put distance between them.
It never lasts, though.
Zhenya's in his pajamas and glasses, settling in with his Kindle, when his phone rings.
"G," Sid whimpers over the line, and Zhenya sits upright, the sound of a distressed omega plucking at his instincts even at a distance. "G, where are you?"
Zhenya fists his hand in his duvet. "You say you don't want," he says carefully, listening to Sid's gasps, wondering if he'd managed to get something from his toybox or if he fell into it so fast that he's using his hand. Sid doesn't take care of himself like Zhenya would if they were mated, and he's come over more than once to Sid on his belly and whimpering because his own fingers don't get him right.
That's what Zhenya's always been for.
"I didn't mean it," Sid whines, voice muffled. "G, I need you."
Zhenya pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at the screen. Not even ten, and they have an off-day tomorrow. "Sid, you say I stay home this time," he says, but he's throwing his blanket back and getting up. "You change mind?"
"I was lying," Sid moans, frustration edging into his voice. "I was...G, please, you..."
He's falling deeper into it now. Zhenya hesitates; Sid had sounded so sure, more than usual, but...
"Geno," Sid says, practically a sob, and the decision is made. There's only so much his own instincts will allow him to ignore, and Sid calls him every time—if he didn't want Zhenya coming over, he shouldn't be calling.
It takes Zhenya a few tries to remember Sid's new door code, but when he steps inside, the smell of Sid's heat practically bowls him over. Zhenya has to stop and breathe, adjust to the overpowering sugar-and-marine salt permeating the air, before he can walk without stumbling to Sid's bedroom.
"Oh, Sid," he says, pausing at the doorway.
"Please," Sid begs. He hadn't gotten to his toys after all, and he's practically twisted in a pretzel, two fingers stuffed inside himself while his other hand strips his dick. He's come once already by the mess on his stomach, but his dick is so hard it's purple, and his face is twisted in agony, not pleasure.
"Shh," Zhenya croons, voice dropping to alpha-register all on its own. He's across the room and stripping his clothes off before he's even registered it, but when he gets hands on Sid's torso Sid takes in a deep, shuddering breath and relaxes.
"G," he mumbles, looking up at Zhenya through tear-damp eyelashes. "You left me."
"I'm sorry," Zhenya murmurs, gentling Sid onto his back, pushing at his shoulder until his hand slides free. His fingers are shiny with his own slick, and Zhenya pauses to suck them clean, eyelids fluttering at the taste. Sid watches him, chest heaving, and when Zhenya lets Sid's fingers drop from his mouth, Sid trails them down Zhenya's face and chest, resting his hand over Zhenya's heart. "I'm here now," Zhenya says, leaning down to kiss Sid. "I'll take care of you."
"Yes," Sid sighs as Zhenya slides into him, letting his legs butterfly out and his head loll to one side.
Zhenya stares at Sid's neck, exposed and there, and practically bites through his lip, fucking Sid harder. He wants to bite Sid so, so badly, has for years, but Sid always pulls back just when they're on the precipice of turning this into something more, always ices Zhenya out when it starts to feel too serious, and Zhenya's not going to push—it has to be Sid's decision.
Something of what he's feeling must be leaking through, because Sid opens his eyes and looks at him. His eyes are blurry; he's deep in it now, and every exhale is a half-purr as Zhenya's knot starts to grow and catch at him with every thrust. "Mmmm," he moans, the perfect picture of an omega submitting to his alpha, but the way he tilts his head to expose his neck is all purposeful, as is the way he coyly looks at Zhenya.
"Sid," Zhenya groans, grinding his teeth. He can't stop himself from dropping to his forearms and getting his noise into the crook of Sid's neck, licking frantically over Sid's scent glands. The smell of them blooms in the room, heady and intoxicating, and Zhenya's thrusts go ragged and desperate as his knot swells. "Sid, please." He feels drunk, he doesn't even know what he's asking for, opening his mouth around the meaty muscle where Sid's neck meets his shoulder.
Sid's hand is at the back of his head, but he's pushing, not pulling Zhenya back, and Zhenya's teeth dig into Sid's skin. His "bite me" is barely audible, but it's the loudest thing Zhenya's ever heard, echoing over the roaring of blood in his ears and their breath.
He bites. The world falls away.
-
When Zhenya swims back to consciousness, his knot still hasn't gone down. Somehow, Sid had managed to get them on their sides, and he's petting over Zhenya's sweaty back, nuzzled up against Zhenya's chest and humming.
"Sid?" Zhenya croaks, eyes flying open when he remembers. "Oh, fuck, Sid, I—"
"Shh, it's okay." It's Sid's turn to soothe Zhenya, purring until Zhenya's heart slows down. Zhenya's nostrils flare as he inhales, and all he can smell is happy, contented omega.
"We..." Zhenya's floundering, head spinning as he tries to put the pieces together.
"I asked you to do it, bud," Sid says. He sounds quiet, but sure. "I wanted it. I was..." He sighs, and Zhenya can feel him shrug. "We can talk about it later, but...I was talking to Jake, and he said, you know, we're lucky—it doesn't matter what happens, because in the end we always have each other. And then I got home, and I was thinking about how he's right. You've had plenty of chances to leave, and you never did. And you always come when I need you. So...it felt stupid, to be pushing you away still."
"Sid," Zhenya groans, half infuriated and half overcome with fondness. If they weren't still knotted together he'd pin Sid down and bite at his sensitive, ticklish stomach as punishment until Sid was laughing and kicking him away. "You say to me when you think these things, like, don't make me come run over so late, scare me like I do what you don't want."
Sid shrugs again, and now he smells smug. "You always come when I call," he says, and Zhenya can't even argue that point.
He wouldn't want to, anyway.
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prodagustd · 3 days
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the road not taken 03 | myg
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part three: four seconds
Summary: If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, but why it seemed like he was following everywhere you went?
<part two
—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress oc
—rating: +18
—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)
—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!
—words: 11k
—a/note: HERE IS ITTTTTTTTTTT!!! I'm sosososos sorry for taking so long, but it is finally here!! I swear I would try and update monthly from now on, but enjoy this for now!! It has a lot of backstory so I hope you enjoy it. btw these last months I've been going to a poetry workshop so I was on fire writing this (ok maybe not since I took so long to finish it lmao). As always feedback is always welcomed, and if you want to discuss this part in the asks you're welcomed as well!! ilyyyy
series masterlist | teaser | playlist
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Present 
When Yoongi turned thirteen, your mother promised to bake a Batman cake as a gift for his birthday party. You had a clear memory of sitting at the counter the day before the party as she decorated the cake with yellow icing that tasted like just like bananas, and the next day when Yoongi gave you the first piece of cake you remembered thinking it was the best thing you ever tasted. A few years ago, when Yoongi turned twenty three, you asked him if he remembered the taste of that cake, and, as he smoked what he swore it would be the last cigarette of his life, he said that he did not. At that time you asked him how it was possible that he didn’t remember the taste of some cake your mom made ten years ago, how was it possible that information of such importance had gone unnoticed? Looking back, you could say that it was not Yoongi’s fault, maybe you were the only one holding onto memories and he was as forgetful as everyone else. After all, Yoongi forgot he promised he would quit smoking that very same night, he would smoke his last cigarette only a year later, but even to this day you couldn’t forget the taste of that cake. 
You were just beginning to realize you were condemned to be one of those people who just remembered. Like your aunt, who knew all the birthdays and all the deathdays, all your cousins’ first words, including yours, and was often caught reminiscing every detail of the day she met her husband thirty springs ago. Maybe it was in the family, and it was only a matter of time until you started speaking memories instead of words, so you tried to stop it, but they lived in your mind regardless if you decided to stop mentioning them out loud or not. 
Like the perfume of your granddad that he only wore on Christmas, or the way blood and tears tasted the day you broke your teeth when you were eight and tried to play basketball with Yoongi and Simon but tripped. You sobbed like a baby, but Yoongi hugged you so tight that you forgot you were going to be toothless for the following month. 
You collected the memories, the words, the smell and the taste, you held them close to your heart, stuck in your chest with a stake, forced to remember everything while everyone around you just forgot. And you didn’t complain, you couldn’t,  why would you? Life was like that, happening in front of you as you stood in front of the body length mirror in your mother’s room, as you closed your eyes and tried to remember the yellow icing in Yoongi’s birthday cake, it happened in front of you as you tried to avoid it. You knew you had to stop lingering in the past when all those details, all those colors, and all those memories began to turn against you. Like every January, when your mind reminded you that your body was still stuck in the freezing cold of the morning you decided to leave home four years ago. 
That morning, when you decided to go see Yoongi five days into the new year because he had barely texted you since the last day you saw him, January 2nd, when he received the news from his aunt that his mother had an accident during their trip. You walked to his apartment instead of driving because you didn’t think it was that cold, but you were immediately proven wrong when your hands started to get frozen and your feet began to hurt as you walked in the snow, but that didn’t stop you. He said he was going to be home for a second to grab some stuff and then come back to the hospital, where his mom was, so you were expecting the look of surprise on his face when he saw you at the door, what you weren’t expecting was the way he was hesitating to let you in. You remembered the things he did and the things he said that day like they were engraved in your memory, but mostly the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to run away, from you? from his life? You still didn’t know, all you knew is that after that you had no other option than to turn around and walk away. 
When you thought about it for too long you could still feel the way the snow lingered all the way home in your clothes and hair, how it stayed on the sole of your shoes for the following years, how your tears froze in your cheeks because you refused to wipe them away. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night and could still feel the snow running down your back, making you wonder if winter was still chasing you. 
Inside your body it had been winter for so long that your heart seemed to be completely frozen ever since you left home, only now that you were back you realized that perhaps autumn was not warm enough to heal your heart. 
That was not the last time you saw Yoongi, but you believed it was the last time you decided to talk to him, the last time you allowed yourself to even lay eyes on him. 
You wished you could find peace for at least a moment, but it seemed that you had to work hard for it, it was getting tiring to remember that you were the one who caused the chaos that was your life, and now you were the one who had to fix it: your mother, your brother, Ian and Sally, and even your public image. Doing the last button of your white shirt you asked the universe: why couldn’t those be all your problems? You swore to the man in the sky that if he sent you all your problems in the form of a giant monster you were willing to fight it, only if he could stop you from seeing Yoongi tonight.  
Perhaps you should stay in your mom’s room tonight, not attending dinner was okay, your mom made that clear, but at the same time you were twenty five years old now, you couldn’t keep acting like an angry teenager who decided to skip dinner. You knew that it wasn’t going to make things better, but at least seeing your brother was going to make you feel normal, and that was the only reason you decided to set foot outside the room when you heard the bell ring. 
Four years ago. 
Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.
You should’ve known that it would be useless to stop thinking about what happened a week ago the minute you woke up in the same bed as Yoongi, but you still tried. You tried, and tried, and tried in countless ways, like for example, when you tried to watch a whole season of The Office in one sitting, or when you listened your mom rant about some turkish drama she was watching, or when Minnie texted a few days ago and you let her talk about that job she mentioned that night until you fell asleep. And then, you agreed to meet her for a coffee and she talked non stop about the same open audition four hours away in the city.
You were not sure if she was beginning to convince you or you were just desperately trying to stop thinking about Yoongi, you thought the only logical explanation for both theories was that you were about to go crazy. 
But if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn’t help but be interested in it. Minnie pitched the job like a gothic dramatic love story, which sounded just like something you would love. She also said it wasn’t a super big play, but it wasn’t small either, and it was pretty well paid. Minnie mentioned she knew the producers and the director and could put on a good word for you. 
“Why don’t you do it, then?” You had asked her, not being sure if you would do the same thing for someone who didn’t talk to you in years. “And why me?”
“Oh, well, I don’t know if it’s my style and… I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave home yet.” She replied with a nostalgic tone in her voice. “And why not you? I don’t know anyone who can pull it off, and you appeared in front of my eyes. Must be a sign.”
You couldn’t understand the first thing, how adamant she was to stay here, as much as you tried to see the world through her eyes, you couldn’t, a few years ago you took the first chance to get out of here and didn’t look back. But sitting there, at the small table next to the window, it wasn’t difficult to tell which one of you two looked more happy (hint: it wasn’t you). Minnie was different, she was still working at The Alley, she loved it there and wasn’t willing to let it go yet. 
The second thing, you couldn’t understand either, but it made sense for her to do it. Being kind was natural for Minnie, she didn’t hold grudges, and you weren’t sure if you deserved that kindness. She waved away all your concerns, your whens and whys and hows, she kept repeating the same words; “it must be a sign”, “it’s clearly meant to be”, and you just laughed and tried to not to think about Yoongi. And it worked for a while, because on the way home you allowed yourself to fantasize about it for at least ten minutes. Moving to the city and working there for weeks and weeks and maybe months or years, and not having to pretend you were someone else. But the minute you entered your house you were reminded of what you were trying to forget. 
The memory kept sneaking in your mind, just like Yoongi sneaked in your bed that night. The image of his hooded eyes, his pink lips and the reminder that nothing really happened kept wandering inside your head.
That night you entered the house giggling like babies and when both of you were changed and ready to sleep you got under the covers, not thinking whether it was right or wrong. And yes, your bed was big enough for you and him, but your arms and legs still slightly touched during the whole night, and when you woke up your feet where tangled with each other, leaving you wondering if you were stupid for thinking something had changed between the two of you, or maybe the way he looked at you when he opened his eyes was just your twisted imagination.
Yes, you were probably crazy when you thought he was looking at you differently when you made him breakfast, like you promised. You were crazy for thinking it felt like you were in a different universe when you sat in the kitchen island the whole morning and then found Nightmare Before Christmas on tv and discussed if it was a Christmas or a Hallowen movie on the couch. 
And then, of course, he left, bringing you back to reality. But then during the week he came back, and then left again, and came back again. You knew you had to kick him out, you knew it was for the best to make up an excuse and say you were busy, but this time he promised to get your car repaired, so you let him take you to his uncle’s garage. 
Yoongi’s uncle was nowhere to be found today, but Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was in charge, although he wasn’t very happy with people being loud while he was working. By the time Namjoon established he didn’t want any of you there at the garage, you had already decided you were staying.
You knew Namjoon ever since he started working with Yoongi’s uncle, he was a tall and big guy with a shy smile, he wore glasses and read books, he was funny and smart and you knew that he had more more than one girl waiting for him to text them back, and for some reason, despite being really handsome, and really cute, and really tall… he was still single. Not that you cared, of course, you were interested in… other people…You still allowed yourself to admire him, like when you watched that Turkish drama with your mom because you were trying not to think of Yoongi and the lead actor helped a lot with it. 
Now you were there, sitting on top of some dirty table next to a bunch of tools you couldn’t name, trying to keep silent when Namjoon scolded you again. 
Yoongi was very good at ignoring him, he pretended he didn’t listen to his friend as he leaned towards you, talking really close to your ear. “Should I give your grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, half joking, half serious. “You know, so she’s in a good mood.”
You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A bottle of klonopin, maybe.” You said, making Namjoon scoff loudly. 
He turned around, now interested in the conversation, looking at you both. “Why do you want to give her grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, confused. One of the reasons why Namjoon didn’t like people talking while he was working was because he was easily distracted, when he was interested in the topic he didn’t seem too annoyed.
Yoongi turned around to face him, deciding his friend was there all of a sudden. “I’m spending Christmas with her family next week.” He explained, being kind enough to forget that Namjoon explicitly told him to shut the fuck up about twenty minutes ago. “But she’s a bit moody.” 
That was one way to describe your grandmother, the other one was to say she was a complete witch.
“Yeah, Yoongi invited himself.” You teased him, instantly feeling one of his fingers digging into your rib, making you jump. 
Namjoon quietly observed the scene like something he wasn’t supposed to watch, with his mouth hung open ready to say something, but his mind was still searching for words. You suspected that Yoongi’s answer left him with more doubts that he had to begin with.  
“Really?” He managed to say, curious. “I didn’t know you two were… like that.” Namjoon cautiously started the sentence, but didn’t dare to finish it in case he was wrong, although the scene you were making was clearly making him believe he was right.
You jumped in your seat, opening your eyes widely as you understood what he was implying. “Oh, no.” You rushed to say, waving your hands in the air. 
“No, not like that.” Yoongi talked at the same time as you, crossing looks as if you were reassuring each other of it. His eyes were as open as yours, shaking his head trying to deny the accusation. “My mom is not here until the first week of January.” He explained, making Namjoon nod, still confused at your nervous reactions. “So I’m alone at Christmas.” 
Yoongi looked at you, giving a look that meant “it makes sense, right?” and yes, of course it made sense. You and Yoongi had spent Christmas together before, he knew your whole family since he was a kid, he grew up with Simon, he was family too, it made sense, but Namjoon’s implication made both of you jump in your seats, talking over each other as you laughed nervously. 
“So all of you three are spending Christmas together?” Namjoon continued to ask, trying to understand the conversation again. “You two and Simon?”
There was a beat of silence in the room, but you were quick to answer. “Simon is spending Christmas with his girlfriend, so we're on our own.” 
Namjoon nodded again, trying not to think too much about it. “So Simon is okay with you keeping all his gifts?” He tried to joke, but the answer only sounded worse. 
You looked at Yoongi, but he was looking at his shoes, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. Neither of you bothered to mention to Simon that you were spending Christmas together, was it really necessary? Why was Namjoon making it sound like it was necessary for him to know? Why did you feel the need to explain to him that it wasn’t weird at all that you were spending Christmas together alone? You weren’t alone after all, there was your mom, and your grandmother, your aunt and some of your cousins too, I mean, you’ll have to share the room, of course, but- wait… You had to share the room. You forgot about that.
Oh my God… Simon couldn’t find out about that. 
You were quick to suppress the thought, agreeing with yourself to handle that matter later, but right now Namjoon was looking at you like he expected an answer. You quickly realized that Namjoon was just as noisy as you. 
“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.” You said, brushing it off, but your mind was already in chaos.
Present 
You were never really interested in astrology, you tried to get into it a few years ago only to understand what Minnie was saying since she talked about it most of the time, but you ended up being too skeptical to believe in anything. You didn’t believe in God, or in astrology and you weren’t even sure if you could call yourself an atheist completely, but you were still curious. Early in life you realized you were agnostic, (you were aware that you sounded like a pretentious man on a first date when you said it out loud), but you still asked every person you met their star signs in case they matched with their personalities, as if you were still trying to prove yourself wrong. 
You didn’t know if the universe was right or wrong, but if you were sure about something, it was that Simon was a Leo. Not only because he was born on the first of August, but because he fitted in every category of a Leo. He was charming and confident, outgoing, he was a natural leader and people always felt drawn to him, making him a little bit… self centered. 
Like every other Leo, Simon loved his birthday, that was the only reason why you were thinking about it. Two months ago, the first of August, you called him on his birthday like every sister calls her brother on his birthday. You could’ve just sent a message like the past year, but your life was already beginning to feel suffocating. Talking to Simon seemed to ease your heart for a while. He wanted to talk to you about his job at the firm and his girlfriend, the cat they adopted, how they were planning to move to a bigger apartment the following year and asked when you thought it was a great time to propose. You needed to feel like something was in place, like your relationship with Simon was normal, like he could tell you anything and you could listen and just laugh. It worked for the first ten minutes, until he inevitably brought up the topic of his birthday party, and he inevitably invited you, and you inevitably had to say no. 
You missed Simon, you missed your mom, you missed your bed and your home, but you weren’t ready to come back, you weren’t ready to see the thousand faces you left behind, you were still hesitant to come back. Now you were there, tense at the end of the stairs because the disappointed tone on his voice lingered in your mind to this day. 
Some voice in your head was telling you that it was what adults do, take responsibility for their actions, seeing people even if you preferred not to see them because that was what grown ups do. You were supposed to be an adult of twenty five years old, even if you felt like you never grew out of that bitter phase only teenagers go through, you were still an adult, so why did you feel like a kid at the end of the stairs, waiting for Simon to lay eyes on you?
Your mom hugged him tightly like she hadn’t seen him in months, and when he pulled away from her grip he noticed you, coming down the stairs as you realized that he, like your mom, wasn’t expecting to see you today.
Simon frowned, surprised, but just a second later a smile took over his face  “Hey, you.” He said, opening his wide arms, offering you a hug. “What are you doing here?”
You took a deep breath, almost turning around to check if he was talking to another person behind you, but no, he was talking to you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to hug you the same way your mom was hugging him a moment ago. “Is this not my house?” You murmured against the fabric of his blue sweater, feeling your heart hammering against your ribcage as you tried to make a joke.
“Of course it is.” He just said, leaving a kiss on your hair.
Four years ago. 
Two weeks before New Year’s Eve. 
If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, because your mind was not helping at all. 
After leaving his uncle’s garage you should’ve gone home to start thinking a way of telling Yoongi that he couldn’t sleep in the same bedroom as you on Christmas, you needed to think of an excuse for why he should sleep in your grandma’s one thousand year old couch instead of Simon’s empty bed, which was casually right next to yours.
The following step should be to watch some romcom with Heath Ledger and try to forget the way Yoongi rolled up his sleeves when he was pretending to help Namjoon with your car, or at least the way you stared like an idiot for a good moment before snapping out of it. 
He should’ve gone home too, he had no business walking in the same direction as you if his apartment was towards the other end of the street. It didn’t take you long to realize he was following you “for some coffee, since we’re cold”, as he said, already assuming that you didn’t have any plans (he wasn’t wrong).
You didn’t want to chase him away, you were still working on that thing of not being a bitch, and while there was a rational part of you that knew that you were better off not seeing Yoongi, there also was a part of you who couldn’t get enough of him. A better explanation was that you might be a masochist. 
The garage wasn’t far from home, but you were walking fast as if you were trying to lose him in the way.
“Is Namjoon still single?” You wondered out loud, trying to redirect your thoughts somewhere far away from him. At least for now it didn’t seem that difficult, you remembered the sweet smile of Yoongi’s friend and the way he lifted his glasses with his finger up to the bridge of his nose. Was he really shy or was he just faking it so girls thought he was cute? Either way, it was working.
“What?” Yoongi raised his voice, frowning at you. 
You frowned back at him “I asked if Namjoon is still single.” You repeated, but you were sure he heard it right. “How come he’s still single?”
The wind hit your face, so you made yourself small in your jacket, scanning the street for any cars before crossing in the middle of the street. Yoongi followed you without hesitation, running to the other side of the street before you left him behind. 
“Why…?” He yelled, trying to catch up with you, but when he was next to you he lowered his voice “Why do you care?”
The question sounded strange coming out of his lips, but you ignored his tone, turning your head. “I’m curious.” You just said, but he still couldn't shake the strange look on his face. “What?” You pushed his shoulder “Don’t look at me that way.” 
“I’m not looking at you in any way.” He defended himself. 
He was clearly looking at you in some way, you just didn’t know which. You winced, trying to brush it off “I’m just asking…” You murmured “He’s really cute, don’t you think? He works at the garage, he wears glasses, he’s got cute dimples. How is he still single?” 
“It seems like you gave him a good look.” He mumbled under his breath, taking his eyes off you. 
“I’m just a very observant girl.” You argued. “C’mon, you didn’t think about it? I’ve never seen Namjoon with a girl…” You kept wondering, staying silent as Yoongi, for some reason, refused to keep this conversation going. You still didn’t know how Simon and Yoongi were such good friends, Simon always knew everything about everyone, how was it possible that Yoongi refused to even discuss the reason for Namjoon's long singleness? Or maybe Yoongi was keeping the reason as a secret, maybe it was something no one was supposed to know. Suddenly, you connected two and two together, interpreting Yoongi’s reluctance in the most logical way. You gasped “Oh! Or is he…?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a sound of annoyance when he realized you were still talking about the same thing. “No, he’s not gay, Pinky.” He sighed “He’s just not into dating.”
You turned the corner of the street, making Yoongi follow you. “Like my brother?” You asked, remember how everyone said the same thing about Simon. 
He snorted “No, not like your brother.” He said  “Simon was a mess… Namjoon is just a shy guy.”
You arched an eyebrow. That was the lamest excuse ever, it wasn’t enough explanation for you. Maybe Yoongi was right and Namjoon was just-a-shy-guy, or maybe Yoongi didn’t know the real reason why he has been single for years because men never communicate their feelings with each other, maybe Namjoon was dating his first love for years until she broke her heart, making him never want to date again, or maybe… 
“Stop.” He said, interrupting your train of thought. Now it was his turn to push your shoulder “Don’t even think about it.” 
He gave you a warning look, which made you confused for a moment… Wait, what was he thinking? Did Yoongi confuse your nosiness for something else? Did something that you said made him think your intentions were different? … Was he really thinking you were interested in Namjoon? 
You pursed your lips, trying to contain your laugh. You could explain to Yoongi that he misunderstood you and deny every accusation, but something inside you told you that the current scenario was more fun.
“I’m not thinking about anything.” You said, faking innocence, and even if you really weren't he looked at you like he didn’t believe you. 
“Yeah, right.” He huffed “Didn’t sound like that.”
“Really? How did it sound, then?” You teased him “Enlighten me.” 
Yoongi did not say another word after that, refusing to follow your game. You've known him for longer than you could remember —literally, he said he remembered meeting you when he was four and Simon invited him into the house so he could meet his new baby sister, but you had no recall of it—, even so, you had no memory of him ever being mad at you, not even slightly annoyed, so you were a bit confused when his expression remained serious for the rest of the walk home. Was it so bad to show interest in Namjoon?
“Don’t even think about it.” What did that even mean?
Present
You were trying to avoid the memory of Ian’s proposal for weeks now. It was painted in your mind, the excited look on his face, his mom’s ring on his hand, the flowers, the cool white lights, the ringing in your ears that warned you something was wrong. You remembered wondering if he knew that you read all those texts he sent to other women, if he knew how ridiculous everything looked. It still made you cringe when you accidently thought about it. Did he really think you were the same as him?… Weren’t you different? 
Despite being the most embarrassing moment of your life to date, you weren’t trying to hide it, you were planning to tell your family about it when the time was right. Like tonight, for example. You thought you could talk to them about it, that you could have time to explain everything, to apologize for not saying anything, maybe for a couple other things too… But your plan was ruined the moment your mom told you she had planned a dinner in your absence on the same day you arrived.
Now Simon was looking at you like you were thirteen and you got your heart broken for the first time. He rested his elbows on the table you and him just set, sighing. You were aware that the rest of the guests were on their way, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t that difficult since Simon’s thoughts were echoing in the room, making you shift in your seat. Of course Simon already knew about it, you were sure he already read it in some tabloid before you got the chance to tell him first. 
“Stop doing that.” You said, breaking the silence. He didn’t seem surprised, but still narrowed his eyes, trying to play dumb.
“Doing what?” 
You weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, maybe you were just imagining the way he was looking at you: with pity, but it was annoying you, and he knew that, perhaps it was the reaction he was expecting from you. He was laughing five minutes ago, making fun of you when he saw you trip on the step of the entrance to the kitchen like nothing changed between the two of you, but now he was sitting in silence as if he was preparing you to ask you the question. 
You wished Florence, Simon’s girlfriend, were here. She would fill the uncomfortable silences with gossip about the neighbors and ignore the elephant in the room. She was away visiting her family, so instead you were there with him as he tried to play the big brother role, but failed terribly. 
“Are you going to ask me about it?” You asked, not hesitating.
Simon let your question linger in the air, pretending you didn’t just read his mind. There were only a few people you could say you knew like the palm of your hand, one of them was your brother. Even if you spent years separated, you’ve always been as thick as thieves, you still saw right through Simon, and the only problem with that was that he saw right through you as well.
“Are you going to tell the truth?” He calmly asked, enjoying the look on your face when he heard you gasp, offended.
It hurt to know how implicit it was that you hadn’t been honest these past years, it was easy to catch you off guard. While you were out in the world, away from your family, Simon stayed here and visited your mom every sunday and tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t answer any of their messages that week, saying that you were busy working when you really were trying to avoid invitations for the next weekend. It was obvious that Simon was the one that spent more time with your mom, you thought about that the second he used the same tone as her when she was scolding you. 
You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning “Maybe, I can think about it.” You said in the same tone as him. Simon just scoffed, shaking his head. 
“Fine. That was too much to ask for, I guess.” He snarked, mocking you “I have a simpler question… are you okay?” 
Despite his attempt to appear casual and keep bickering, his concern was evident. That question could have felt like a caress to the soul, a sigh of relief, the feeling of home, but instead it felt like Simon had punched you in the stomach, leaving you without air. How easy it was to fight with Simon, how easy would’ve been for you if he didn’t hug you when he saw you thirty minutes ago. It would’ve been less difficult than witnessing his blue eyes showing you mercy. It was clear that he cared for you, but you weren't sure if you deserved it, not from him of all people. 
“Simon…” You murmured, shaking your head. It was an easy question, but difficult to answer knowing this wasn’t the right moment, this wasn’t how you planned things.  
“What?” He questioned, reading your mind “I’m not asking you just because I have to, I’m not waiting for you to lie to me and tell me that you’re alright so I can forget about it, I care.” 
“I know you care.” You breathed out “It’s just…” You sighed, vacillating “Listen… I haven’t- I’m not okay, really… But I can manage. I just feel like this is not the right moment to talk about it.” You looked at the entrance of the door and his sorry eyes followed, understanding what you meant. Simon nodded, but he didn’t stop looking at you like you were a wounded animal.
“That’s fine, I understand.” He murmured “That’s what I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you were going to be okay tonight.” 
“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to talk about myself. We’ll have time for that” You assured him.
“Are you sure?” He continued to question, doubting you. 
You squinted your eyes “Yes, I'm sure, Simon.” You said, annoyed, even if you couldn’t blame him for not trusting your word. “I’m not planning to run away.”
“Not again?” He tried to joke, but you didn’t dare to laugh. 
“I assure you, not again.” You rolled your eyes, hating that that was the image your brother had of you, hating to know that he was right. “You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy now, I’m not a lost puppy.”
He scoffed “Are you not a lost puppy?” He asked “Where are you sleeping tonight?” 
You frowned, offended “Here, of course… I mean, on the couch probably, but here.” You  tried to defend yourself, but you immediately realized that your room was still a mess, and instead of cleaning a bit before dinner, you spent the whole afternoon sleeping. 
His lips curved into a mocking smile, knowing that there wasn’t much difference between you and a lost puppy. “You can sleep at mine.” He offered. 
“I wasn’t asking” You resisted, too proud to say yes right away.
“I know.” He said, and he shushed you to stop you from talking, pretending that it was the end of the discussion.
You shook your head, trying to reject those kind gestures you didn’t deserve. You opened your mouth, willing to keep arguing with your brother until you heard the bell ringing for the second time this evening, making you almost jump in your seat. 
Your mom yelled from the kitchen, announcing that she was getting the door followed by the sound of her noisy shoes making their way to the door. It happened in a matter of seconds, you heard your mom rushing to the hall and opening the door, you heard muffled sounds, mixed voices, your mom greeting the guests while you waited on your chair as Simon turned his head over his shoulder, expectantly observing the entrance of the dining room. 
Then, you heard steps approaching, laughter and chatter, but something else was happening in your head, something that was restricting you from hearing clearly —from thinking clearly—.
You fixed your eyes on the door, wishing no one appeared for as long as they could delay the arrival, but soon your field of vision was occupied by a short woman with curly hair and pearls in her ears. Nari, Yoongi’s mom, watched her step while she supported herself with a cane as she entered the room. Nari was just a few years older than your mom, but since the accident four years ago it has been difficult for her to walk without help, that’s why you and your brother both stood up at the same time to help her get to a seat faster. 
The sound of both of your chairs being pushed back and your brother’s rushed steps filled the room. Simon was quicker than you, he approached Nari, smiling and saying hello as he grabbed one of her hands to help her find a seat. 
You were not hearing anything clearly, but you were sure that Nari was complaining and telling Simon that she did not need any help, but he ignored her as he asked for her coat so he could hang it on the coat rack next to the door. 
You felt clumsy, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with yourself for the next four seconds. Four seconds that could’ve been four years, because when you lifted your gaze you realized you were standing face to face with Yoongi. An older Yoongi, a Yoongi you haven’t seen before, even if you didn’t remember when was the last time you dared to look him in the eyes, you were sure that back then he looked very different than tonight. His hair was longer, it was pushed back like he ran his finger through it, he was dressed like he just got home from work, a white dress shirt, slacks and a long black winter coat. He was dressed like an adult, a version of him that you never met and maybe never will. His gaze met yours the same way everything met you: by accident. He was not expecting to see you tonight, you knew that, now he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him, like he saw a ghost, maybe you were, maybe he was. 
Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, and you had exactly one second to prepare for what he was about to say next, but you didn’t. 
“Oh, Pinky.” Two words escaped his lips, tripping over each other as surprise and regret took over his features. He immediately realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but you still couldn’t hear clearly, you weren’t sure if you heard that right. 
The nickname sent a chill down your spine, you couldn’t answer to it, and he knew it. It was like he said some forbidden word to make you freeze in your place. You couldn’t help but feel like the dumbest person on earth. 
You had been thinking the whole afternoon about it, trying to think of ways of looking unbothered when Yoongi showed up tonight, but it took one stupid word for you to stop functioning normally. You wanted to say something, say hi to him and forget that he even dared to call you like that, but you refused to do it. 
“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, your ears were working again. Nari’s high pitched voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look away from her son’s face. It was like she didn’t notice your presence until Yoongi called you by that stupid nickname “I didn’t know you were coming!”
She attempted to stand up again, but you rushed to meet her so she wouldn’t move from her chair to let her pull you into a tight embrace. You took advantage of it, there were no more places to hide in this house, not your mom’s room or behind your brother, so you closed your eyes, hugging her back.
It was only then when you realized how much you missed being hugged like that, you remembered how much you missed such affection. Especially from her, who was always so loving to you, it was a shame that you couldn’t look her son in the eyes. 
You shook those thoughts away, acting like his presence didn’t affect you. “I told my mom!” You explained “But she forgot, can you believe it?”
“She should've told me.” She said, pulling away to cup your face in her hands “I haven’t seen you in so long, angel, you look beautiful!”
“Not as much as you do, Nari, are you wearing makeup?” You tried to joke, making her giggle. 
“No, darling, I don’t need that stuff.” She shook her head. “C’mon, sit next to me, we have to catch up!”
Four years ago 
Seven days before New Year’s Eve. 
There definitely was a logical reason why you and Yoongi were locked in the tiniest closet of your Grandma's enormous house.
The answer was somewhere in your mind, somewhere deep where your brain functioned just fine, somewhere where you weren’t trapped between Yoongi’s body and some shelf that was digging on your shoulder blade. 
You were looking at each other in silence while you heard your name being called from downstairs. The palm of your hand was covering his mouth, preventing him from saying another word and his fist was clenched around your shirt to maintain his balance. You were trying to ignore how his knuckles were digging on the skin of your stomach, or how his chest was pressed against yours or the way his knee was digging in your inner thigh to keep you from crashing against the shelves full of cleaning products. 
You looked at him through your eyelashes, quietly observing how his hair fell on his eyes like a curtain. You took a deep breath, thinking of the reason why you were there in the first place, which was… uhm… uh…
Oh yes! You were hiding. Yes, you were hiding from your grandmother, that was why.
This morning Yoongi showed up at your house to pick you and your mother up in his car.  He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with the name of his college on it. He smiled cheekily as he helped you put your bags in the trunk and you rolled your eyes when he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. Your mother was delighted, not only because she didn’t have to drive for two hours to your grandmother’s house, but also because Yoongi had that effect on everyone… including you. 
Of course your grandmother loved Yoongi as well. Through her eyes, he was like another version of Simon; he was studying the same thing, he was about to graduate just like him, of course she was delighted to welcome Yoongi with open arms. You weren’t saying that you were not welcomed, or that your grandmother didn’t love you, but you were never received the same way. Yes, she hugged you and kissed you and told you she missed you, but that didn’t mean that later on she would not make comments on the way you dressed, or the way you laughed, or whether you should eat another gingerbread cookie or not. 
You could endure all those things, you always did, it was nothing new to you. What you could not endure, howerever, was another second in the presence of your grandmother talking about her neighbor’s daughter. You hardly knew Aria, —the tall and blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that was sitting in the living room next to your grandmother— but you knew pretty much everything about her since your grandmother insisted on comparing you to her. 
Ever since you were a kid your grandmother liked to compare you to every other girl of your age. You were sure Aria was a nice girl, it wasn’t her fault your grandmother was such a bitch, but you weren’t in the mood to face her today, especially when Simon wasn’t around. You knew she was coming with her family, since your grandma loved to invite the whole neighborhood when the holidays arrived, so when you heard your name being called from downstairs so you would come down and greet the guests, you hid in the nearest room of the house, the cleaning closet towards the end of the hall on the second floor. 
After a few seconds you stopped hearing your mother calling for you, but then you started hearing Yoongi, approaching in the hallway as he was looking for you in the room you were staying in. You quickly opened the door, grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the room with you. 
You resolved that problem, the next step was figuring out how you would get out of the current situation. 
Yoongi gently grabbed your wrist, removing the hand you were using to cover his mouth. “Aren’t you a little dramatic?” He whispered, completely ignoring the short distance that separated your face from his.
Yoongi’s breath smelled like the red wine he was drinking during lunch, and that should send some alert to your mind to warn you that he shouldn't be this close to you, but your brain seemed to be functioning on a different astral plane, and it was pretty much only focused on Yoongi’s lips.
You felt his hand opening to let go of your crumpled shirt, but then he slowly slid it back to your waist, grabbing you gently.
You gulped. 
That seemed completely normal.
“Of course I am.” You whispered back, and you congratulated yourself for being able to speak. “That’s why I am hiding in a closet.”
“And you dragged me with you.” He remarked.
“You were screaming my name, you were going to give me away.” You accused him, digging a finger on his chest.
He nodded, pretending that what you just said made sense “Right, I get it. So… why are you hiding here instead of your room?” He said, emphasizing his words. 
You took a quick look around the tiny dark room that wasn’t made to have two people in it. It smelled like bleach and it was full of brooms and dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hide but it seemed like no one opened this room for the last four weeks, so it was safe. You returned your eyes to his face, biting your bottom lip. “My room wasn’t safe.” You explained, dead serious. “Do you think they stopped looking for me already?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes “You sound like someone is trying to kill you.”
Well, no. No one was trying to kill you, but why did you feel the need to run away as if someone was? 
“No, it’s worse. If they find me I would have to tell everybody that I dropped out of college.” You effused, making him shake his head in disbelief “You are supposed to be here to support me, aren’t you?” You tried to remind him. 
“I am here to support you.” He emphasized. “I am hiding in a closet with you, aren’t I?” You kept silent, knowing he was right. “But you can’t run away from everything, especially if it’s not worth the run, we’ll leave eventually and you’ll forget about your grandma for the rest of the year.”
You sighed, defeated. “I still don’t want to see fucking Aria.”
He scoffed, biting his lip to contain a laugh. “We don’t have to talk to her, we can just say hello and leave.” He said “I mean, but first we have to get out of here.” 
He looked around, signaling the room you were squeezed in. He was right, again, he always was. You knew that it was absurd that you were hiding here in the first place, but something inside you urged you to stay there for a few seconds longer. Now you didn’t know if you wanted to stay there to avoid the guests or because you were getting too comfortable in his arms (you already knew the answer).
You had no idea what was happening in Yoongi’s mind, but you were too busy swimming in the warm brown of his eyes to even care, you were too busy dreaming to be interested in what this meant. 
You must’ve been long gone for a few seconds, because you were only made aware that you’ve been silent for a while when you heard his soft voice.  
“Pinky,” He called for you, pulling you out of the haze of your mind, but the thing that finally snapped you out of it was when you were suddenly caught off guard when you, out of nowhere, felt his hand touching your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers “are we going to stop hiding or not?” He calmly asked, making your heart skip a beat. 
You blinked, feeling your knees getting weak. If you were speechless before, now you have become completely mute. 
What. Was. He. Doing. 
And what was he playing?
You couldn’t miss the way his eyes shined in the dark and how your heart swirled in your chest, becoming small the second you watched a flash of a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. Was he fucking laughing at you?
And why were you standing there with your mouth hung open, racking your brain for something to say? Your mind couldn’t process if he was just playing with you, not right now, not ever. You didn’t know what game he was playing, but you decided you were not letting him win regardless. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. 
“Don’t treat me like a baby…” You said in a low voice, but you didn’t know what you were talking about anymore. Everything stopped making sense the moment you dragged him into this room.
He squeezed your waist, digging his fingers on your skin over your cotton shirt. “But you sound like a baby.” He murmured, leaning over you just enough to make your noses brush with each other. 
Your heart dropped to your stomach, leaving you without air. God, you felt sick. This wasn’t real, this was a product of your imagination, like every single second you spent with Yoongi these last weeks. “Yoongi…” You whispered, trying to warn him, but instead it sounded like you were pleading. You might as well have done both; warning him because if he didn’t stop you would start believing whatever he was doing, and pleading because you were not sure if you could take it. 
He freed himself from your grasp, grazing his thumb along your jaw bone. You couldn’t recall a time, not even in your darkest dreams, where he touched you like that. 
“What?” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. “What are you going to do?”
The room laid in profound silence for a moment, the weight of your heart suffocated you and the urge to answer him, to smack him in the face, to run away, increased in your chest. You held your breath, watching him open his mouth about to say something, but then the room shook when someone knocked on the door like they were about to knock it down, being followed by the strong sound of your mom’s voice, making you jump away from him. 
“Dear, don’t tell me you’re there again.” She yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear, knocking again for good measure. 
Yoongi’s arms fell on each side of his body, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He lifted an eyebrow, ignoring what just happened. “Again, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, pushing his chest to keep a proper distance between your body and his “Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, refusing to acknowledge the warm temperature of your face. You hated to see that there was no trace of embarrassment on his features, just pure amusement. Meanwhile, you didn’t need a mirror to know how red your cheeks were. 
Three more knocks. “C’mon, get out there already!” Your mother kept yelling. 
When you finally turned around and opened the door, your mother’s gaze fell upon you, looking at you with everything but surprise. It wasn’t the first time you hid there, you did it a couple times when you were a kid and fought with Simon. Your mother was well aware of your hiding place, you just expected her to think you were too old to be found here again.
The surprise came after, when her eyes caught a sigh of another face in the dark. She knew you were going to be hidden here, what she didn’t expect was to find Yoongi right next to you, maybe way too close to each other. 
Her eyes widened, out of words “Oh, dear,... Yoongi… Uh, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were both here...” The sentence died in your mother’s lips, but you ignored her reaction, you stepped out of the room, fanning yourself with your hand to cool down and storming out of the situation. 
“Sorry, I was dragged into this, Lila.” Yoongi explained, sounding way more composed than you, but the situation didn’t look good for either of you. 
“Well, I can only imagine…”  She said, but you did not miss her undertone. 
You walked back to what was supposed to be your room (and Yoongi’s), leaving both of them behind. 
“Your daughter can be very persuasive.” He continued to explain, his voice following you. 
A low hum of your mom finished the conversation, she left trying to put together what she just saw, and you hurried your pace so you could lock yourself in the room and leave him outside. 
“Pinky!” He exclaimed, stopping you at the door frame. 
You needed a second alone, but he was not willing to give it to you. 
You turned around, exasperated “What!?” You snapped, but he didn’t care one bit. 
“Didn’t you want to get out of here?”
Present
The day Ian came to your apartment to pick up the last box with his things, you finally called your mother to tell her you and him had broken up. You had only told Minnie by then, but it got stuck in your throat for two weeks, ready to be vomited at any moment. 
Your mother always said that it was important to grieve things, to be mad about them, to be sad, to cry about them, otherwise you were going to carry that weight while pretending to be okay until, someday, it would explode in your face in the worst possible way. When you broke up with Ian you patiently waited for the tears, for the pain in your chest, for the sad memories of three years with him to arrive one night at three am. You waited for the grief in your car when some sappy love song started playing, or when you went for the groceries and came face to face with the huge advertisement with his face on it, but it never came. 
You had an affection for Ian that was not easy to understand, but you liked his company, you liked his unconventional jokes, that he was politically incorrect, that he laughed in the worst moments, but you were never sure you loved him, were you a horrible person for that? For not feeling bad, for not crying for him? 
When your mom picked up the phone and you told her why you called, you broke down crying before finishing the sentence, you felt all the emotions stacking up your throat as you sobbed uncontrollably. You soon realized you weren’t crying for Ian, you weren’t crying because you missed him, not even for the proposal, you were crying because you needed a hug from your mom and she was four hours away. 
“Women grieve during the relationship.” Minnie theorized when you told her that you didn’t feel bad for Ian “It’s normal if you don’t miss him.”
Maybe she was right, but maybe you were not grieving your relationship with Ian, but the person you were before leaving home. 
Now that you were there, sitting at the table with the people that have always been your family, you knew that you were supposed to feel at ease, but the anxiety you felt at the thought of someone mentioning the big break up, as Minnie called it, was stronger. You knew everyone knew, and you knew everyone was thinking about it. Everyone but you, because you were a bit too distracted with a certain someone sitting across the table, just in front of you. A certain someone who couldn’t stop crossing looks with you. 
“Aren’t they planning to make a movie about that?” You heard Simon ask, shaking off your thoughts. 
As much as you wished not to be the center of attention, you should’ve known that none of your wishes would come true tonight, because every topic, every question, every comment was being redirected at you and your life in the city. 
You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation, but you were sure they were talking about a play you starred in two years ago, which contained one of your most acclaimed performances. You remembered those days with pure contentment and pride, but you had numerous reasons for not wanting to talk about it.
“So I’ve heard.” You just said, looking at the half eaten portion of lasagna on your plate.
“Shouldn’t you be in it?” Nari asked this time “You were wonderful in that.”
You smiled, shrugging. “Thanks, but if they don’t offer it to me beforehand I would have to audition again. It’s a different process of casting I suppose.” 
You heard almost everyone humming in response, and felt a pair of eyes fixed on the side of your face that you were still trying to ignore. In that moment you decided you would not concede said eyes another single glance tonight, as if you could ever keep your promises. 
“But wouldn’t you like to be in it?” Your mom nonchalantly asked “If it were the same casting, I mean.”
You looked at her for a moment, expecting her to realize what she was asking, but she didn’t. You knew she had no business remembering every play you’ve been in, or every casting, or every detail of the life you decided to never share, but you still waited for a moment, expecting her to remember that in that very same play you ended up killing Ian’s character by stabbing him in the heart. 
Nothing like reality, you thought. 
“Not really.” You chuckled, bitterly “Some things are made to be done just once, it might wear off.” 
You breathed out, thinking that you successfully avoided the topic without having to give any explanations. 
But of course, once again, you were wrong. 
“Oh, sorry, baby.” Your mother backtracked “I forgot you were there with…”
The name died on her throat, immediately knowing that the comment was unnecessary. 
You pursed your lips, shaking your head “It’s fine…” 
The conversation could have followed its course then, you could have changed the topic yourself, you could have perfectly saved the conversation by making something up, but Nari was quicker. 
“Oh, darling, I’m sorry about that, I just heard about it this morning.” She followed your mom, giving you the condolences as if someone just died. “I had no idea.”
“Mom…” You heard Yoongi’s voice echoing in the room as a warning, and without noticing, your gaze landed on him again for a brief moment, immediately breaking your promise. You mentally cursed yourself, taking your eyes off him when he offered an apologetic smile.
Nari looked at him, annoyed at him for scolding her, “I’m just saying, I hope you’re okay, I know it’s not easy.”
“Mom.” Yoongi spoke again, this time more insistent, but his mother paid it no mind. 
“It’s okay.” You said without looking at him “I’m okay, things like this happen.”
You didn’t know what things you were referring to, if the break up, the proposal, the leaked pictures, the fact that your ex boyfriend stabbed you in the back. Things like that did not happened everyday, you weren’t supposed to get used to them, but you acted like you already were. 
She nodded, looking at you with eyes full of concern. “I was so surprised, honestly. Didn’t you want to get married?”
The directness of the question caught you off guard, so you couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. Everyone could sense how invasive and personal was the question, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to tip-toe around you made you smile softly. You loved Nari, and you knew she meant no harm, so, only for now, you decided to answer with the truth. 
“Well, yes, someday.” You quietly professed, the words leaving your mouth like a sigh “But with the right person.”
That was enough to end the conversation, she smiled at you the same way you smiled at her and you could swear she could sense the pain in your heart, not because of Ian, but because of everything else. 
Then, Phil began talking about something else and everyone joined the conversation, too scared of saying something wrong and making you cry, but you were still stuck in the moment. After some minutes, when you felt the ache in your chest increasing, you excused yourself and left the table to exit the house through the back door in the kitchen. 
You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs as you closed the door behind you. You sat at the bench next to Phil’s plants, trying to catch your breath. You were sure you were about to find a home somewhere, you found yourself surrounded by everything that used to feel like it, but you still felt like a foreign person, you still felt like a stranger, a traitor. You couldn’t find the person you were, or the fragments that you didn’t make disappear. 
You weren’t strong enough yet, you understood that now. The wind in your hair reminded you that you still tried, but the lack of air in your lungs just told you how immature you still were. Still, you were mindful none of this would be easy, but you just needed a few seconds to compose yourself and then you could come back to the dining room to finish your lasagna. That sounded just fine. 
When you were about to get up from your seat, you heard it. The creaking sound of the back door opening, you observed the trace of warm light that came from inside, and then, you heard that voice again. 
Inevitably, your eyes met him again, whose head was peeking to verify if you were outside, and when he saw that you were, in fact, there, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone in the cold darkness of the night. What was he doing? 
“You’re here.” Yoongi’s words were accompanied by some misty breath, lingering in the air before disappearing. You lowered your gaze, nervously looking at your feet. ‘You’re here’, he said, and for some reason he sounded relieved. 
You were confused, you didn’t understand why he chose to follow you to the backyard, but he invited himself to stay there, leaning on the wall far enough from you.
“It’s cold here.” He announced, trying to dissipate the tension you were creating by staying silent. 
You nodded your head, agreeing, but you believed you shouldn’t even grant him that. 
Yoongi sighed, “I’m sorry about my mom,” He finally said “I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” You tried not to roll your eyes. Was that was he doing? Playing the role of an advocate? “She didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, she just has no filter.”
“It’s okay, I know.” You murmured under your breath. “It wasn’t her fault, it’s just me.” 
He kept quiet, he didn’t seem too content with that answer but what could he do about it? You both knew it was the only thing you were going to tell him. 
“Fine, but… you shouldn’t be out here… without a coat.” He awkwardly said, making you frown “It’s cold.”
You suppress the urge to punch him in the face, instead, you put your hands between your thighs because he was right, it was cold and you didn’t have a coat on, if you stayed too long outside you were going to get sick. 
“I know it’s cold.” You acknowledged “I’m going inside in a second.” 
You waited patiently for him to leave, expecting those words to be enough for him to leave you alone for a few more seconds, but he didn’t. He stood there, in the other corner of the porch looking at you like he had something else to say. You didn’t care, you wanted to not care, it was meaningless. 
“Are you… I just, uhm… Are you okay?” He stumbled over his words, but you dismissed the way your heart clenched in response. 
“Yoongi…” You groaned, intending to sound annoyed at him, but the name came out of your voice like something intimate, something like a secret, it echoed in the air, resonating with the same tenderness that he pronounced your nickname upon seeing you tonight.
“What? I mean-”
“I’m okay, I’ll be there in an instant.” You interrupted him. He didn’t have another option but to agree. 
He made his way to the door, but lingered in there for a moment. With one hand on the doorknob, he glanced longingly at you as if he was expecting you to stop him. “You can go now.” You rushed him. 
“I know, I know, sorry.” He said, knowing he was caught. “I’m just glad to see you, that's all.” 
Before you even got the chance to curse him, he disappeared through the door like nothing happened, once again. 
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figsnpassionfruits · 3 days
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Paint Away, My Little Dove - Chapter 8
A/N: wohoo this was rly fun to write holy shit. this is also my first smut ever so yay! this is also the longest chapter i have done yet so it should make up for the long wait <33 word count: 4.4k tags: arthur morgan x fem!reader, fluff, age gap, smut, creampie, kinda cockwarming but nor rly?, tiny bit of angst dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest
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It had been a few days before Arthur joined you in Strawberry. Even though you were used to spending time alone; it felt off this time. The last time you had been together was right after a robbery of a trolley station in Saint Denis went wrong. What caused you all the worry was the fact that saying goodbye was left with not the usual fuzzy and warm feeling in your chest, but more of an unrest.
But now, it felt okay again.
You were nested in the big bed in your rented room, leaning against Arthurs bicep as you rubbed your feet on his toned quads. His thick fingers were lingering on your skin, travelling from one spot to another every once in a while. The sound of the rain hitting the windows filled the air with comfort. It had been cloudy and rainy for a few days now, mimicking your state of mind.
“Dutch wants t’get back at Bronte for trickin’ us.” He mumbled; eyes set on the stained ceiling.
You sighed. This could have been avoided easily by just not believing that man. Who in their right mind would trust Angelo Bronte out of all people? “You think that’s smart?”
“Nah.” Arthur chuckled. “If there’s a reason to get back at that son of a bitch, it ain’t the robbery. Now ain’t the time anyway. Dutch’s just been blinded by money ‘n revenge.”
“You could use me as bait.”
Arthur sat up slightly, looking at you like you were a ghost. “Are ya insane, woman?” He questioned, eyes widening at the thought of putting you in such a dangerous situation. It would have been considerable if you had been one of the women at camp, who were used to being exposed to robberies and dangerous positions. But you; you were an artist. Even if you had been in life-or-death situations before, for Arthur, there was no need to put you in another.
You rested your hands on his chest, feeling the hairs on the skin prickling your palms, attempting to calm him down. “Arthur. He said he wanted me dead or alive. I don’t know what he will do to you if you don’t do as he says.” You explained, caressing an arm of his, tilting your head, trying to get him to hold eye contact with you again. “He’s got a lot of men behind him.”
“That I ain’t worried about.” Arthur took your hands into a single of his, holding them firmly by your wrists. “Darlin’, the camp doesn’t know about ya. I don’t want yerself to get involved into their plans. Not now at least. Things are too foggy.”
The rain had gotten stronger now, hitting the windows with more force than before, creating a thudding sound each time. Things were ought to get more complicated from now on. It had seemed like the air around you got a bit chillier, urging you to wrap the blanket you were sitting on now around your shoulders.
“Would it be so bad to let your camp know about me?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.”
……………………………………………..
The fine line between autumn and winter could create the most unpredictable weathers. What was pouring down from the sky a few days prior in masses, was now flowing peacefully on the banks. The brisk air caused the hairs on your body to rise, yet the moderate warmth of the sun demanded them to stay down.
“Not far anymore.” You mumbled, readjusting the grip on your reins as you steered your two horses, careful to not harm the wagon in the process of crossing the river.
Arthur was in front of you, taking the lead to see where it was safe for the hooves to step on. Once on dry ground again, he took out a cigarette from his pocket, igniting it and took a long inhale. Especially for him the past few days have been stressful. From Dutch’s behavior to Bronte’s games to keeping you safe. The poor man could get no rest.
As you two approached the town, the familiar character of Valentine filled your senses. The smell of the sheep and cattle entered your nose while the sound of the people talking filled your ears.
“Ya remember when ya wanted t’sell me somethin’ here?” Arthur smirked, getting off his horse and walking over to you. He offered you his hand to offer you additional support to step down from your wagon.
In response, you rolled your eyes playfully, smiling as you did so. You took his hand, feeling his secure grip on your smaller one as you stepped down, nodding at him once as a small ‘thank you’ gesture. “I’ll get the horses to the stable. They could all use a little luxury. Could you go and get us a room?”
“Yes, mam.” Arthur tipped his hat, walking off to the direction of the hotel, gladly following your order.
After disappearing from your vision, you strutted over to the front of your horses, gripping the reins of Arthurs as well, as you lead all three towards the stables. The sun had not been strong enough to dry out the ground just yet, causing your boots to turn muddier with each step you took.
“Miss Y/N!” The stableman greeted you, cheering at your presence.
“Hey, there.” You smiled, slowing your pace as you walked through the big wooden doors.
“Got quite a collection there. Instead of two, I am now seein’ three.” He joked, taking the reins from your hand, removing your horses from the wagon, and putting them into the boxes they were used to stay in. After being done with storing them, he took the reins of Arthurs Shire, looking at you with a hint of confusion expressed on his face. “What about this fella?”
“Just give him the usual package as well. He belongs to a friend of mine.”
The brunette man nodded, patting the black coated horse on the snout. “Handsome boy.”
You placed your hand on the neck of the tall horse, giving it a few pets. “Good as well.”
“You sellin’ anything while here this time?”
You pouted, taking a breath in through your nose, your eyes glued to the horse still. “Wasn’t planned. I usually send letters to the sheriff prior to make sure it’s fine with him.”
“Well, if you change your mind- go have a talk with him. He’s got a liking to you. That man won’t say no.”
Mumbling a quiet ‘thanks’, you left the stables, making your way to the infamous hotel. The locals were usually the friendliest to you here in Valentine. While passing, people greeted you with a smile or a small wave. They were used to you setting up a stand anytime you were in this town, adoring your paintings whenever they saw it.
After walking up the steps to the upper floor of the hotel, you turned to your right, moving to the room number the manager at the front deck gave you. With quiet knocks you alerted the older man inside, who opened the door not too long after, greeting you with a small smile.
“Horses are taken care of.” You remarked, taking off your shoes and coat before throwing yourself down on the soft texture of the mattress. With the relaxation of your body came the torment of your mind. Now all there was to do was to think. Think about what to say; think about what to change and think about what to do. “What will you do to Bronte?” You asked, breaking the silence.
Arthur peeked up from the table he was standing by, stopping the action of writing into his diary for a brief second. “Don’t know, sweetheart. Dutch keeps talkin’ about money. They want to get Bronte out the way to rob somethin’ bigger. Somethin’ that’s worth all the shootin’.”
“And then what?”
“Camp wants to get away. Dutch is talkin’ about some place called Tahiti. But I just don’t know any more what I want.”
Hearing those words were painful. After all this time, it seemed like his camp was still what was the most important thing to him. If they all left after getting the money they needed; he would follow. You were not present in those plans. How could you be? Arthur had refused to let you meet them for the longest time now. It was not like he was in the wrong. Yet, it still hurt. No matter what would happen he would be with his camp. And you? You were insignificant.
Noticing your silence, Arthur let out a sigh before putting down his diary. He slowly walked over to the bedframe, letting the weight of him drop down to the mattress. After still not looking up at him, he took a finger to place it underneath your chin, guiding your face up to create eye contact. “What is it that ya want, dove?”
“I want a lot.”
“Tell me then.”
“It’s stupid.”
“It can’t be.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you moved your frame to the middle of the bed, creating space for him to sit on.
Arthur placed a hand now on the side of your head, gently pressing down on it to make you lay your head on his shoulder.
“I want a farm.” You started. “And a gallery, made out of glass, just for my paintings.”
“That so?” Arthur smiled, placing a kiss on your temple.
You hummed to confirm your statement, playing with your fingers, being a little embarrassed after saying your wishes out loud.
“And where exactly would those things be?” Arthur questioned, taking a hand of yours to stop you from fidgeting with them. He had recognized your nervousness. Now again, the age gap made itself be present. You had dreams and a goal in life. For him, that was already over. All he could do was be a servant to the ones who were still fighting. His loyalty was set on the gang. That did not mean that he would simply abandon you for them. Yet, he was torn. Life had given him too many things to balance. It was on him to decide what to throw out of the equation to move things forward.
“Big Valley, maybe? I always tend to go there.”
“Big Valley, huh?”
“Yea, why?”
Arthur let out a chuckle before answering. “That’s the place we first met.”
“Oh.” You giggled. Another silence occurred, forcing the both of you to wrestle with your thoughts again. There was a certain tension in the room; as if things were left unspoken. You had so much to ask him: ‘What about me? What about us? When will you leave? What will I do once you do?’ But where were you supposed to start? Collecting your courage to confront him, you sat up, leaning your body weight on the hand that was propped up on him, earning you a puzzled look from Arthur. “Arthur, I- what are we doing here?”
“What?”
“What is this? We’re always together. We hug and cuddle but what are we doing?”
Arthur continued to stare at you, scanning his eyes all over your face, unable to read your emotions as you questioned your relationship with him. “I-“
“I was hoping you wanted me the way I want you.” There it was. The confession you had bundled up in your chest for weeks. There was no turning back now. You had poured out your heart to him in a single sentence. All that was left for you to do now was to listen what we would say. By looking at him, you could see the wheels in his head turning. He was trying desperately to think before talking.
“I do want ya, sweetheart.” Arthur confessed, placing a hand on your arm, rubbing it affectionately. “It’s just-“ He closed his eyes for a brief moment, smacking his lips once before continuing. “What could a pretty little thin’ like you get out of an old man like me?”
“Arthur, no.” You moaned, moving your body closer to his to place your palm on his brunette beard. “Why would I care about you being older than me?” You knew about the concerns Arthur had about the two of you from his diary entries. Yet this was the first time he confessed it to you verbally. “Arthur you’re the sweetest and kindest man I have ever laid my eyes on. When you asked me before what I want- I wanted to say ‘you’. I wanted to say ‘us’.” You roamed your hands all over his saddened face now, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, making him look at you. “I want us to happen, Arthur. I wanna be yours.” As your voice got quieter but needier, you moved his arm away from his torso, gathering your courage to sit on his lap, your hands still placed near his face. “Please.” You begged, starting to slowly move your hips on his groin. “Call me yours.”
Arthur clenched his jaw at your words, slamming his eyes shut for a second before giving into your devotion. He places his rough hands on your face, pulling you down to him to slam his lips onto yours.
His harsh handling alone made you moan into the kiss, moving your lips to the rhythm of his. It did not take too long for the both of you to roam each other’s mouths with your tongues, the act getting more frantic as the milliseconds passed.
Arthur placed his hands onto your rear, squeezing it tightly and pulling you closer to him to release the tension that had now formed in his tight black pants. He sat up fully, moving his hands now to grasp your hips, flipping you over onto your back. For a second, he broke the kiss, looking into your eyes, scanning you for any hesitation. Not finding any, he dived back into the kiss, causing your heart to beat faster and faster in anticipation.
“Arthur…” You whimpered against his lips, thrusting your lower body in an attempt to get more friction to your heat.
“I know, darlin’.” He whispered, moving his hands down your body, the calloused skin feeling like rocks against your soft frame.
Being displeased about the fact that you were both fully clothed, you took matters into your own hands, leaning on your elbows to pull Arthur shirt over his head after you undid the first few upper buttons.
After mirroring the same action, Arthur slid his hand to your now exposed neck, sucking on skin next to it. He opted to slide his other down to your pants, bringing you closer by gripping the thin fabric, pressing your naked chests closer.
“Take off your clothes.” You managed to whisper in between hungry kisses.
A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest before he obligated to your request, pulling down his pants propping himself on one arm that was placed next to head on the mattress.
While he was occupied with his, you took off your own, leading to the both of you exposing all of your skin. Placing your hands back on his neck, you pulled him down to you, your lips not being able to get enough of his.
Unhurried, Arthur slithered his hand down your stomach, moving it closer to your cunt. Once there, he cupped it gently, making you moan quietly as you thrusted your hip against it.
“Easy, sweetheart.” He grumbled, the feeling of his hand on your heat sucking the air from your chest.
Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear as he started to move his head down, a shaky groan rolling through his chest as a response.
Setting his hands on the back of your knees, Arthur flipped your legs up, moving an arm of his to hold them up with a single limb. The fresh air hit your warm cunt, causing you to bite your lip at not only the feeling but also on the sight in front of you. “Please.” You begged, tilting your head at the man who was keeping you in place.
The pecks he delivered to your inner thighs travelled closer and closer to where you wanted him, his eyes on you like a predator stalking his prey. He had never heard sounds as pretty as the ones you were giving him, begging to be touched. A thick finger of his swiped through your wet folds, wanting to hear your melodies again. “You’re already soaked for me, dove.” He rasped before putting his face closer to you, his beard tickling your delicate skin. It did not take his tongue long to find your bundle of joy, flicking it continuously, making you close your eyes and lean your head back into the cushions.
“God, Arthur.” You moaned, your voice getting higher from the way your nerves were getting tickled by the sensation.
“Ya taste so good.” He murmured, crawling back up to you to engulf you in another heated kiss, demanding you to taste yourself on his tongue. Arthur began to sink his middle finger into you, deepening the kiss for only a split second before he propped himself back up, staring into your eyes to make sure it felt okay. “This alright, sweetheart?”
You nodded, letting out small gasps in a pathetic attempt to respond to him.
Arthur cooed at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you squirmed. “Don’t gotta talk. That nod’s good enough. Lemme take care of ya.” His voice got lower and lower with each word, the lust in his body taking over. The finger inside you was curled now, pulling small moans from you. For him, the sounds you were making came straight from heaven. Why did the two of you refuse this for so long?
“I need you inside me.” You cried softly, moving your hips faster against his hand.
“Easy, now.” Arthur rebuked, pulling his hand out of you, causing you to let out a whine. “Ya wanna take me already?”
Giving yourself a small moment to think about his question, you shook your head, making Arthur tilt his head. “I wanna taste you as well.” You demanded, pushing his body off you to put yourself on all fours.
Arthur was now on his knees, allowing you to take control for the meantime. His already hard cock was in front you, throbbing and asking to be touched in any way. As you put a hand on his dick, Arthurs hands travelled to your hair, holding it back and out of your face to allow himself to have no blockage of the view. With eyes set on his blue ones, you licked a trail from his base to his tip, causing Arthur to let out a low moan as he leaned his head back. After all the years of torment and stress his body has been going through, this was needed; badly.
You wrapped your lips around his cock, focusing on the tip when you swirled your tongue as you bopped your head. Your hand was travelling along on his cock, making sure to stroke what you were not able to fit into your mouth.
“You’re a pretty little thing, ain’t ya? Good girl.” Arthur cussed, the breath in his voice hitching as you kept sucking him off.
As a reply you hummed around him, Arthur whimpering at the sound of it.
“Just lemme-“ Arthur noted, placing a hand on the back of your neck while the other found his way below your chin. “Keep yer mouth open for me, darlin’, alright?”
You looked up at him, nodding once to let him know whatever was coming was okay for you. You noticed the hesitation in him. Arthur required your approval for every single thing he wished to do. The poor man had been through so much in his life. This was a way for you to let him release it all. If anyone deserved it, it was Arthur.
With your permission, he started to thrust into your mouth, the action creating vulgar sounds that filled the hotel room.
“Got the prettiest little throat.” Arthur groaned, saying the words in between the fast thrusts he was doing. He licked his lips once before moderately slowing them down, only to push your head further into him, letting go of you once you gagged. A trail of spit remained glued from his cock to your lips when you pulled back, his eyes darkening with craving at the sight of it.
After collecting your breath, you looked up at the man from your hands and knees, flashing a big smile and biting your bottom lip.
“Ya really like this, don’t cha?”
You hummed in approval, a hand of yours pumping his cock, refusing to leave it without any attention. “Now, I want you inside of me.”
As a reply, Arthur flipped you onto your back again, one single hand holding both of your legs up by the back of your knees. He first placed a thumb on your clit, skillfully rubbing a figure eight against the sensitive patch.
The eye contact you both remained could turn anyone primal. Sucking air in between your teeth, you moaned his name, needy to feel his cock in you.
Once he removed his hand from your heat, Arthur soaked in the view from your wet folds, this angle allowing him to take in each pore.
In protest from the lack of touch, you slid your own hand down your body, rubbing yourself with three fingers.
Instead of fighting for the control, Arthur simply watched your hand, enjoying the sight of your delicate fingers rubbing against your glistening body. “No art of yers is gonna be able to touch the beauty of this.”
You giggled at his words, your heartbeat speeding up as he propped himself up, licking his own hand for some lubrication to rub it on his tip before pumping his shaft a few times. Once he contacted your skin, he rubbed himself against your soaked cunt. As he sank himself slowly into you, you hissed at the feeling of being stretched out by the man you were in love with. To get him closer to you, you put a hand on the back of his neck, forcing him to lean his forehead against yours as he disappeared in you, inch by inch, letting out a long and low groan as he did.
“Atta girl,” He breathed out, the large hand he had placed on your legs now gripping tighter onto the thin skin there. “Takin’ me so good already.”
“You feel so good.” You moaned out, pupils wide and mouth hanging open at the filling feeling of him inside you. Your pulse was now at its high, your heart feeling like it could burst out of your chest.
Arthur placed several light kisses on your legs, hip hips now slowly going back and forth, watching his cock get more soaked with each time he pulled back of you. After a while of repeating this, he struggled with holding himself back from gaining speed, asking you if it was alright for him to take things faster. With a nod and still the deep stare into his eyes, he began to pick up pace to a more relentless one, pumping his cock into you, setting a pace that was rough, yet not animalistic.
The pressure in your abdomen continued to boil, the speed of his thrusts being exactly what you needed. The desperation in your moans and whines built themselves up, your legs squirming more and more, causing Arthur to grip your body painfully now to keep himself steady and to not crush your frame with his weight.
A hand that Arthur previously had on your breasts, moved down to your clit once more, rubbing the spot gently, yet rapid.
Your thighs began to shake, a hand of your own now shutting your own mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet from the amount of pleasure Arthur was giving to you.
“You’re okay.” Arthur groaned, a hint of desperation behind his voice, nipping at the skin on your calves as you continued to shake.
Loud cries escaped your mouth as his thumb rubbed the circles faster and faster. With a whine of his name your walls clenched around his cock, tightly wrapping it.
To allow you to come down from your high, Arthur stopped his thrusts, letting go of your legs to lean down to kiss your closed eyelids which were fluttering. “Ya alright?” He asked, doing his best to keep his movements as minimal as possible while being buried deep in you.
You nodded, smiling at him. “Want you to come inside me.”
Arthur smirked at you, moving his body in a way that allowed you to spread your legs only for you to wrap them around his core. The feeling of your legs tight against him caused him to go back to his relentless speed in a matter of seconds, eliminating the quiet moment you just had, filling the air again with the sound of skins slapping and your frantic cries.
“W-want you to fill me up.” You managed to say in between your euphoria, and that was all that Arthur needed to convince him.
With a couple more bruising thrusts he buried himself to a halt, emptying himself in hot intervals into you, groaning loudly. Arthur lazily leaned his forehead to yours, smiling at you with his eyes closed. “Jesus.”
“Not quite.” You giggled, making him roll his eyes at your comment. When he tried to remove himself, you shut your legs tighter around him, silently asking him to stay buried in you for only a little bit longer.
Arthur wrapped his arms around you, puling you closer to him, lingering kisses all over your face.
You brushed your nose against his when he travelled his lips from one side to another, forcing a bigger smile from him.
- 🍯
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mattitvdes · 3 days
Text
nerd!matt sturniolo x popular!reader headcannons
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a/n: this was a request that i had written out and planned to post then it didn’t save now i lost both the request and everything i wrote 😂😂😂😐
.ೃ࿐
✰. right off the bat, you guys met at a party
✰. you spotted him in your peripheral standing in the corner with a cup of water in his hands, so you decided to approach him
✰. you were known as the popular girl, which is why he felt weirdly about you approaching him
✰. as you talked to him, you noticed he was a bit closed off and cold towards you, but that didn’t stop you from finishing your conversation (even if it’s one-sided!)
✰. but as you continued, he noticed that you’re actually kind of nice, unlike the people you surround yourself with…
✰. by the end of the party, you’d have ditched your friends and spend the rest of the night talking to matt, and getting to know him. he also got to know you, discovering things about you that didn’t come from rumors or gossip
✰. you would have made such a connection during that time, that when you go back to school the following monday, and actually say hi when you pass each other in the hallways, people are looking at the both of you as if you grew an extra head
✰. now, fast forward a little… you’ve been flirting with him for the past two months or so, and trying to get him to go on a date with you, claiming it’ll get him to discover the real you
✰. you spend so long doing so, that when he finally says yes, you continue asking him for another minute until you register he actually agreed
✰. but… he thought you were joking. the flirting, the suggestiveness, the date ideas, you name it, he thought it was a joke.
✰. on the day your date was, you knocked on his door only to find him in his pajamas, staring at you (who’s actually dressed for a date) with a dumbfounded expression. the two of you stood there staring at each other for almost two minutes. (while you were thinking how good he looks in those plaid pajama pants, he was thinking about how you were in fact not joking)
✰. he quickly got dressed into something a little more date-like, and you spent the night driving around as you eat from a random fast food place of his choice!
✰. you had parked your car in the parking lot near a park, and as you were eating and listening to music quietly, he admitted to thinking that you didn’t actually mean anything you said or did when you flirted with him (which made you playfully offended, and made him sputter out apologies for five minutes straight)
✰. being real for a second, you guys wouldn’t have gotten together right after the first date. you went on a few more dates before you confessed to him your very real attraction towards him, and he admitted the same, earning a few teasing remarks from you (which he has grown to love…)
✰. NOW LETS GET INTO THE ACTUAL DATING EXPERIENCE!!
✰. he’d be so awkward at first, not knowing what to do, moreover, what being in a relationship actually means
✰. you’d never make fun of him for that part. anything else though? you’re relentlessly lovingly teasing him
✰. you’re the only one he doesn’t mind giving homework answers to, but if anyone else asks, he’s giving them the nastiest death glare
✰. after becoming a couple, you’re almost always together, and basically inseparable
✰. you also get paired up for every single project now, and always end up getting the best score (reason being him doing 99.9% of the work while you sit there prettily) ((but he doesn’t mind, he tells you he’ll handle it))
✰. it annoys you sometimes, though…
“you’re making it seem like i’m only with you so i don’t have to do anything.” you tell him, watching as he researches the topic for your history project.
“aren’t you?” he asks, his tone clearly joking.
“yes, that’s the only reason i confessed my undying love for you, matthew.” you say, glaring at his side profile, making him smirk slightly.
✰. teasing him in an entertaining pastime for you, the way he breaks eye contact with you as his cheeks get redder making him even cuter
✰. but when he teases you? it’s always unexpected in the best way ever.
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thestoryofusstan · 17 hours
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clarisse x reader where y/n had been noticing clarisse like getting distant( like not holding her hand for more then 4 seconds just small stuff that only y/n notices😭) and then the day percy breaks her spear she's mad and y/n trys calming her down but clarisse just yells at her about how clingy she is and to leave her alone and basically she regrets it and apologizes multiple times and after like a week y/n forgives her and it's cute (I NEEDDDD THE PLAYING HARD TO GET PLS I HATE WHEN SHE FORGIVES HER EASILY)
I Miss You, I'm Sorry
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pairing: clarisse x apollo!reader
summary: clarisse is distant and cold, and y/n is officially done.
warnings: none?? i don't think?
-
you'd been with clarisse for around three years now. at first, a lot of people were confused. clarisse was, essentially, one big ball of anger, and you were a ball of sunshine. after a while, though, it made sense. you balanced each other out. plus, clarisse was a lot softer with you.
but recently, clarisse had been acting different. ever since percy jackson came to camp, actually. she was a lot more angry. and perhaps it was because you'd welcomed him to camp and generally tried to be nice to him. you couldn't help it, he reminded you of your brother, who had a mortal dad and stayed at home with your mom.
when you'd sneak to the ares table during meals, she'd hardly acknowledge you. when you tried to hold her hand, she'd let you, for all of six seconds. you weren't sure why. you hadn't done anything to personally anger her, had you?
you must have. because even as the two of you got ready for capture the flag, she ignored you.
"hey, claire?" you said, turning to her. you were just about the only one she let give her a nickname, and you'd settled on claire. "can you help me with my armor? i think it's crooked."
"you can do it yourself, i'm sure."
you frowned. she'd usually jump at the opportunity to help you- to touch you, to breathe the same air as you.
what did you do wrong?
you had one of your siblings fix it for you.
-
luke had outrun you with the flag when you heard a scream from the beach. you recognized it.
"clarisse!" you shouted, bolting towards the sound.
when you got there, you saw clarisse sitting before percy, her broken spear between them.
you ran to her side and helped her up as the other team began celebrating their win.
"claire, i am so sorry about your spear. we-- i can fix it! or i can have one of the athena kids do it! someone should know how, right? probably. yeah, we'll have them fix it, and it'll be-"
"can you just leave me alone?" clarisse snapped.
you froze. pulled your hands away, and retreated into yourself.
"oh," you said, clearing your throat.
"gods, you're just so clingy! i just need five minutes of peace."
"oh."
that's when she seemed to realize she hurt your feelings. she sighed, her face softening, "y/n-"
"i'm gonna go."
"i didn't mean it like that-"
"yeah. i'm sure you didn't."
you crossed your arms as you walked away, resisting the urge to cry.
-
DAY 1
during dinner that night, clarisse came up to the apollo table.
"y/n?" she asked.
you kept pushing the food around your plate, ignoring her.
"y/n." she repeated.
she sighed.
"i'm sorry, i didn't mean it-"
without saying anything, you stood up and walked off.
clarisse didn't follow.
-
DAY 2
you were sitting by the lake, your feet in the water. you heard someone come from behind, and you knew who it was.
you sighed.
“y/n..” she started.
“i’m not talking to you,” you stated. you crossed your arms and kicked your feet in the water.
“please, i’m sorry—“
“i don’t care. you really hurt my feelings, clarisse. you could’ve just told me you want space instead of acting like you hate me.”
“i don’t—“
“just go, clarisse.”
she sighed and didn’t fight you anymore.
-
DAY 5
clarisse had done what you asked for the past few days. she didn’t come up to you or try to apologize.
you were getting ready for bed, braiding your younger sister’s hair, when someone knocked on the cabin door.
assuming it was some late night check, you sighed.
“i’ll get it.”
you walked over to the door and opened it, and clarisse was standing there.
you didn’t even let her speak before you shut the door.
“who was that?” lee asked.
“no one,” you shrugged, sitting back on the bed and resuming the braids.
-
DAY 6
“why don’t you just talk to her?” percy asked you. you offered to help him train with the water as best as you could.
“because. i usually do, but she’s been rude to me for a few weeks now. i just wanna makes sure she knows i won’t put up with it.”
percy shrugged, “makes sense, i guess.”
even though you had a poker face around clarisse, it did make you sad every time you shut her down or pushed her away.
you just wanted your girlfriend back.
-
DAY 7
after dinner, you really just wanted to go to your cabin and sleep. however, when you opened the door, a bunch of candles were lit.
“what the—“
clarisse was standing next to your bed with a bouquet of flowers. they were your favorites— hibiscus. they didn’t grow anywhere near long island, so she must have gotten a demeter kid to get her some.
“i’m sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have snapped at you. i just.. i’ve worked my whole life at camp to be recognized by my dad, and percy gets all this fame and glory in a few weeks. it’s not an excuse, but i just.. wanted to explain myself,” she said, extending the flowers toward you.
you kept your arms crossed.
“i want to be around you all the time. i didn’t mean to act like i don’t wanna be with you, because i do. i mean.. besides, who else is able to calm me down?”
and that made you laugh, “nobody,” you took the flowers. “thank you for the flowers. no one’s ever gotten me these.”
she shrugged, “i figured it was about time you got your favorite flowers.”
you smiled and quickly turned to her.
“so.. we’re good?”
“we’re good,” you nod and plant your lips on hers.
-
a/n: YAYAYAYAT FIRST CLARISSE IMAGINE / BLURB / DRABLE IDK THE CLASSIFICATION!!!!
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astroyongie · 3 days
Text
NCT 127 June Reading 2024
Note: please take it with a grain of salt
Taeil
love: it seems like he is still dating the same person as ever, but things are again complicated. Taeil have been a little bit more protective over his finances and not “pampering” his partner as much which has made them mad 
career: Taeil has some ideas of what he wants to do after his military service. Maybe we will finally have some type of solo music from his side. he has also been quite protected lately 
self: things are okay with him, his health is strong and he has been leading the group into a better communication overall 
Johnny
love: This man is finally in a relationship (this seems to be an idol but i am not 100% sure). Also their relationship havent started long ago, probably around the end of April and the beginning of may which makes him being on a honeymoon. things are doing well for him!
career: he has been doubting himself a lot lately, especially when it comes to his capacities of being an idol also because there’s a few things that have scared him and that provoked a lot of emotional turmoil since it could have impacted his idol image. Johnny is also having some type of blockages with his career 
self: he is going through a lot of indecisions, a lot of thoughts a lot of confusion about why life does certain things to him. he feels like he has been screwed around and that life isn't fair to him 
Taeyong
love: Taeyong is also in a relationship at the moment. Despite everything he was able to make everything official before his departure to the military service. thighs are okay for him and this relationship is something that he has been manifesting for so long, so he is happy 
career: i couldn't get much about his career, since at the moment everything is on hold 
self: he has been a little bit “foolish” lately, making decisions without thinking though and overall doing things that are perceived by others are very word and out of reality 
Yuta
love: he has been dating the same person since april and everything seems to be doing well. Yuta is very curious about them and everyday is a day where he learns new things and where he is stimulated. healthy relationship so far
career: i believe that Yuta was some serious issues with either the ceo of SM either his sponsor, because there’s a heavy masculine energy around him that has been mistreating him and Yuta is reaching his limit 
self: he has been distracted lately, more lazy and overall not so much with his head on what matters. yuta has slowly become more apathetic form things in general 
Doyoung
love: Doyoung is dating at the moment, although the relationship feels quite rush at the moment because they had a huge argument that almost made them split apart. he still has things on his throat that he wishes to say but he doesn't 
career: lately, he has been more on the introverted side. he doesn't spend time with his members nor does he want to be associated with people from sm or his group for reasons that are mostly personal to him. he also wants to be more respected there 
self: he hasn't been play lately, and although he receives some support from people outside, he has been ignoring them as much as he can 
Jaehyun
love: HE IS DATING!! pack it up, jaehyun is dating and actually for now the relationship is serious and balanced !! i don't have much information about it 
career: he is a little tired of the image he has. Because that image his fans have of him, does not allow him to be his true self. in the past years that didn't brothers him, but now as he grows older and his career is fixated, he is getting bored of it 
self: he is lost in his emotional turmoil. I believe that doyoung at the moment is just living his life aimlessly without much thought. this is quite sad, as i feel like he  has lost his spark as well 
Jungwoo
love: his love life is complicated. He is dating but this person wants things that he cannot give and also because they have way too much influence on him. so he just follows that without putting his own needs in the relationship 
career: some complications but overall he is okay. He just needs to be careful with the type of image he gives to others outside his idol image. because it can rub the wrong people in the wrong ways
self: I am worried about the type of lifestyle he has been living. since these things could potentially have a bad impact on his health in the future. Jungwoo isn't exactly very conscious of the things he does 
Mark
love: I believe that Mark is in a relationship with someone else (not his idol ex) and that he is happy with this person but he is still.. well a little bit scared due to how his past relationship ended 
career: he isn't really okay with everything that has been happening. mark feels like the company gives him way too much to do and he often has to sacrifice projects to due others, because his schedule is too tight. he wishes to have a little more freedom to choose instead of allowing the company to take decisions for him 
self: he is okay, he has just been very anxious lately because of some things he has no control over. the fact that he cannot control these is what makes him anxious. But other than that, he is okay 
Haechan
love: he is in a relationship at the moment, but he feels.. well bored? as if this relationships isn't bringing him any pleasure or contentment and he is just in there because he doesn't want to be alone 
career: Haechan is rather satisfied with his career and how things are going. he has a good relationship with everyone he works it and honestly it feels like he does his job because he likes t and has fun  
self: lately it has been complicated with him. Haechan still uses his unhealthy coping mechanism whenever he's having a hard time. and lately, well he has been overall struggling with his mental health 
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slackerlifewhere · 3 days
Text
random thought #5: clothes
I only noticed this after remembering what he went through as Kim Rok Soo but I think Cale actually likes or prefers to wear dark-colored clothes. That, or there's another reason why he wears them.
It's not as obvious in the manhwa because the artist probably wants him to have bright colored clothes (fair) but it's been mentioned a few times in the beginning of the novel.
Cale, who used to enjoy wearing fancy clothes and showing off until just two years ago, was suddenly only wearing dark clothes, and had a completely different demeanor about him.
Chapter 43: Somehow
I'm not completely sure if he likes the color (shade?) but I remembered seeing Kim Rok Soo wearing them behind Cale Henituse in a cover.
[SPOILERS for the first part of TCF👇]
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Dark clothes could mean a person wants to look cool and stylish or it could mean a person is boring. And in some ways, the person wearing black is grieving.
I looked it up because I wasn't too sure (and I don't want to offend anyone) but Koreans apparently wear black clothes at funerals.
And knowing his past, it could be that he never stopped grieving even as Cale Henituse.
Like I've mentioned before, and what most readers know about him after reading the novel, there are a lot of funerals back in Korea and he attended some of them.
People die everyday in his world and some of them don't have anyone to grieve for them. It's why he's the one who showed up in Lee Soo Hyuk and Choi Jung Soo's funeral.
One of the things that changed the most was the funeral tradition. The reason was simple.
Too many people had died.
And even more continued to die every day and will die in the future.
- Chapter 719
Him constantly grieving for those he lost could appear in what he's wearing.
Yes, there are moments when he wears them to look intimidating in front of the nobles or his enemies but there was this one scene after the Plaza Terror Incident when he actually wears dark clothes, albeit more luxurious.
“It is a beautiful day today. Probably because we are here to respect the fallen.”
Cale’s red hair fluttered in the wind and created a stark comparison to his black outfit.
- Chapter 48: Somehow
It's a sad thing to think about if this is actually the reason why he wears them.
Another preference that was briefly mentioned before is him liking simple clothes. It could mean several things for him.
Simple clothes could mean he's lazy (which is debatable but probably true). Simple clothes could mean he's a guy with simple tastes (also debatable). Simple clothes could mean he was poor or doesn't have the more luxurious type of clothes. Or simple clothes could mean he's used to wearing them in a world where the apocalypse is real and he needs to move comfortably to survive.
I'm thinking he's so used to getting too injured, he never allows himself to wear something different. Like if you're gonna get cuts all over your body after using an ability, I doubt you'll bother wearing something nice.
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It's intriguing how a simple mention of his clothes can mean several things.
I really didn't consider the possibility of something more by judging what he wears.
From his words, to his actions, and even to his clothes, you can make different opinions and theories about him and that's why I'm having so much fun reading this novel.
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brucewaynehater101 · 10 hours
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There's this fic I read a long time ago while I was obsessed with tcf's fics, where OG!Cale's personality is suspiciously a lot friendly but it turns out that he actually died a while ago and Deruth trapped his soul in there or something. OG!Cale reaches out to Rok Soo, begging on his knees (HE CALLS OUT FOR RON!!), but then his body rebooted and he was back to his sus pleasant personality.
SO IT GOT ME THINKING. CRAVING. PLOTTING.
Wouldn't it be so nice if we used that manipulation technology that Bruce used on Jason? But combine it with some time-travel and Bruce uses it on Jason earlier before he debuts as Red Hood?
I want Tim, the person Jason was going to use as a lesson towards Bruce, to find Jason this way. He gets a few days of happiness, being with Jason. But fanon stalker instincts tell Tim that there is a whole lot that wasn't right with the past few days as well.
Although I also want some angst caused by Dick's denial, I think he would instantly believe Tim if he explained that Jason feels off. And that's why, I think Bruce never tells Dick about Jason coming back to life (like he never told Dick about when Jason died) conveniently also still off on some mission.
Tim, who had been (self appointedly) in charge of making Bruce's support group, makes the decision to crush it. By solely starting with Alfred.
He needs verbal confirmation on whether the old man is truly on his side or not.
So he tells him.
And Alfred, sweet old Alfred. The one who gave Tim the Robin suit in the first place. The one who enabled not only Bruce's bad habits but also Tim's own. The one who is either on Bruce's side or none at all.
Alfred weeps. And admits that he's known all this time.
And that's what's horrible.
"Jason admired you," Tim would tell him. "He loved you and followed your advice to heart.
"And you just. Let it all happen? He's probably waiting for you to notice! Because other than Bruce, you're the second person who's been there for him the whole time he stayed here!"
Tim looks at him in disgust.
"How could you?"
Without waiting for a reply, he leaves.
He takes Jason with him.
And then, he goes for the second person part of Bruce's support group who can very much ruin Bruce's life just as easily.
He takes Jason to Babs.
Oof! Time travel angst with the brain altering would be fantastic. Though, is Bruce the one who time travels, then? He, after already deciding to do that to Jason once, goes back in time and writes off the kid (especially if this is before Red Hood debuted and thus Jason would be max 18 years old). No talking to Jason, no effort, just Bruce going to the extreme.
Damn. Let's just keep building this fuckery up, shall we?
So, the symbolism of Tim taking Babs' support from Bruce away is fantastic. Before Tim got involved, Bruce was practically by himself. Babs had her own independence away from Bruce as Oracle and Dick was still fighting with Bruce (for good reasons).
After Tim finds out that Bruce did such fucked up shit? He pulls that man's support from him so fast. Also, Tim, who made his entire Robin career based on needing to pull Bruce from becoming a monster, does he end up feeling like a failure? Does he blame himself? Does he still tediously try to stop and fix Bruce?
Since it's probably before his 16th birthday, I think he wouldn't have the understanding of how cruel Bruce can be. This reveal is such a shock and hurts way more because Tim never thought Bruce could pull that shit against his children.
Despite his complicated feelings, Tim works to reverse the shit Bruce did to Jason's head.
This leads to Jason reverting back to his previous mental state. The man is traumatized by what Bruce did and begrudgingly thankful for Tim's assistant, but he still hates Tim's guts. He despises him.
After the days, weeks, whatever it took for them to reverse it, this is not the reaction Tim was expecting. Jason had been constantly scared, but he was also kind and affectionate to Tim. Seeing Jason become better yet hateful of Tim, especially after Tim had betrayed his mentor to do it? Damn.
Extra angst to be added on would be Bruce, after he realizes that Tim had betrayed him, goes to pick up Damian early. He needs a Robin, afterall, and he can't trust Tim.
This would make Damian max 8 at this age and thus the youngest Robin to hit the streets (I think) (Bruce is a horrible person in this AU, ig. Fuck that guy).
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erabu-san · 19 hours
Note
HI ERABU!! FREMILLEI ANON HERE!! (Not here to talk about fremillei ironically lol)
Sorry about your trouble with Cyno and Tighnari :( I totally get the frustration of just seeing something as a cute friendship and having 90% of the fandom see them as romantic.
We live in a society (the genshin fandom). Us platonic Cyno and Tighnari enjoyers have to stick together✊
With that being said, I've been kinda on a Collei and Tighnari brainrot the past few weeks sooo, hope you don't mind if I ramble about them👀
Can I just say, how much I adore their dynamic. Whether it's father/daughter or big brother/little sister, they're so sweet and care about each other so much🥹 On Collei's side, besides Amber, Tighnari was one of the first people she's ever opened up to, or has felt comfortable around. He's so kind and patient with her and she's really grateful for it!! (Her relationship with Cyno is similar but I do think it was a little awkward at first since Cyno reminded her of her past...)
And on Tighnari's side, well, at first he saw her as a student. But he immediately felt this...urge to help her. Like she had been through so much, and he felt like he had to try and help her in some way. (You brother comes in at the middle of the night asking you to take care of this random traumatized child wyd). He enjoyed getting to know her, and teaching her. And he felt such a strong sense of pride when she gets a good grade in a test, or is able to write something coherently. Overtime, he got to see more of her, more of her personality and quirks, and he developed so much affection for her, treating her like he would a little sister💞
I do think that maybe Collei has trouble talking to him about things. Maybe since she's scared of being judged (she knows he wouldn't, but the feeling is still there). So she ended venting to trees. I like to imagine one day, Tighnari was looking for her when he overheard her talking to a tree. At first he was like "why is she doing that??" But decided to leave since he didn't wanna eavesdrop. But then, he caught her talking about HIM.
"Master Tighnari is so patient and kind with me... I know he would never judge me, or make me feel bad. But...I still find it hard to talk to him. He's usually busy...I don't wanna bother him."
And that just broke his heart :( He wanted Collei to feel comfortable talking to him, he WANTED her to come to him whenever she had a problem. He left, but after that, he would subtly encourage her to talk to him if she needed to, reminding her that she wasn't a bother or anything like that, and that he cared about her. And it made her happy to hear!! And she slowly started coming to him more often!!
Also SLIGHT fremillei (I'm sorry I can't escape the chokehold they have on me) I picture this scene, where after Collei finds out about Freminet being apart of the Fatui, Collei immediately runs home, so many emotions going through her head. Hurt, fear, guilt- she's so overwhelmed. She arrives back and while she's passing by Tighnari's house (house? Cottage?? What do you call those?😭) he calls out to her, noticing something's wrong. She stops, and looks at Tighnari, breathing heavy from running. She doesn't know where to begin, what she should tell him, IF she should tell him. But, she looks at him, looks at the concern on his face, and runs towards him and hugs him tightly, sobbing into his chest. Tighnari is confused, but he doesn't question it, and immediately wraps his arms around her.
"It's okay...I'm here."
I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK BUT THEY'VE BEEN ON MY BRAIN. I feel like not a lot of people talk about them alone, which kinda sucks since their relationship is so sweet :(
Again, sorry to bombarde you with the long ask😭 You art is beautiful, and I love hearing your genshin Sumeru headcanons. Thank you for listening to my rambles. Have a lovely day and take care of yourself!! <3
WAAAAH I AM SORRY FOR LATE ANSWER BUT WHEN I READ THIS I WAS ON THE FLOOR I LOVE IT, IT IS SO ADORABLE
Anon you have such a big brain and I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT 🫵
Oh the part when Collei hugs Tighnari and he is just saying that he is here
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collidescopeeyes · 3 days
Text
Hey all, know I've been quiet but I'm in the home stretch!! Just gotta survive three more days and then exams are over, pray for me 🙏
Anyway in honor of me spending my weekend fighting for my life trying to memorize formulas that look like alphabet soup:
Heartsteel helping you study headcanons
Kayn
- Let's be real he ain't helping. Like he understands this is important and you need to focus but he also really, really wants your attention, are you sure it's not time for you to take a break? No? :(
- Like you'll be taking notes and you'll just see him in the background slowly vibrating out of his skin restraining himself from bothering you. But also, he ain't gonna leave unless you ask him to, he'd still rather hang out with you ignoring him than not spend time with you.
- Let him quiz you or something, please he'll do such a good job just pleeeease pay attention to him. Or just talk him about whatever it is you're working on, he'll do his best to follow along but really it doesn't matter if he doesn't understand, if having someone to bounce ideas off of helps you then he's absolutely there for that.
- Largely mollified if you work while sitting on his lap. He'll do his best not to be distracting, he promises. That being said, if you try to work one minute past when you said you were gonna stop your laptop is getting ejected and he will be pouncing on you, he's been so patient goddamnit.
Aphelios
- Will actually help you study. He's pretty well read so there's a few subjects he can help you with, otherwise he just sits next to you and keeps you on track. There will be no getting distracted by your phone on his watch, and you will be taking regular breaks. Mostly he's doing his own thing so he doesn't bother you, like mixing tracks with his headphones on, but trust me he Will notice if you start slacking off.
- Honestly he's the kind of guy who appreciates just spending time in the same space as you
- Recruits Alune to retrieve snacks. She's also very willing to help if it's a subject she's familiar with, but she's also very talkative with people she likes so Phel will shoo her away if she's distracting you.
- If he can, will help organize your notes or put together flash cards. Great at quizzing you, though he also tends to ask insane niche question that really tests your understanding.
Sett
- The only reason he had decent grades in high school was because he didn't want to upset his mom, so he knuckled down and worked his ass off. He sucks at studying otherwise, he never had the patience for it, so he really respects your determination
- If you tell him you're gonna work and then end up on your phone he Will notice. He knows all the tricks in the book, he used them himself, you are not gonna start after just one more video, you're gonna start now. He's pretty hard to argue with when he's got his Boss voice on.
- That being said, he ain't gonna be much help with academics–even the stuff he's great at, like songwriting, he doesn't really consciously think about; he just has an intuitive sense of what does and doesn't work, and goes purely off of what feels right.
- Any other support he can offer though, he's There. You want snacks? A quiet spot to study? Coffee on the hour every hour? He's got you, ask and you shall receive.
- He's drawing the line if you start going overboard though, working tired is worse than not working at all so you're gonna call it for the night and come back when you're back on your game.
Yone
- Another man who's likely to actually know the subject you're studying. He'll sit down with you and help you make a study plan, and then he'll make sure you actually stick to it. A firm yet gentle hand–he’s used to dealing with that lot, keeping you on track is easy mode comparatively. Also, he'll find a way to minimize potential distractions so sneakily you won't even notice, like you get the urge to go on your socials but your phone's somehow all the way over on the couch so it's too much effort.
- Offers to let you study at his place. It's a very quiet and relaxing space, and also he point blank bans any of the other band members from bothering either of you while you're working.
- You thought that thing about herbal tea helping with concentration was an old wives tale but whatever is in this little clay cup is legitimately a god send. He also makes his own wagashi, and it's so pretty you'd almost feel bad about eating it if it didn't taste so good.
- Helps you with flashcards and quizzes and anything else that will help you feel prepared. Will go out of his way to read up on the subject so he can help you better.
Ezreal
- This guy 100% has undiagnosed ADHD, I don't make the rules. Unlike Kayn who has some pretty obvious hyperactivity symptoms, Ez is one of those people whose like ‘nahhh I can't have that, I get on just fine when it's something I'm interested in :)) in fact I'm so good at studying things I'm interested in that I'll do it for hours at a time without taking breaks! :)) that's normal!’. So while he really wants to be helpful, he has horrible studying habits and honestly he's impressed you're starting before midnight the night before your test. If you need someone to keep an eye on your bad study habits, he is not the guy. If you need a quick confidence boost or moral support though, he's absolutely there for you.
- Extremely knowledgeable on a very specific and eclectic range of subjects. If you happen to by studying ancient history he will explode with excitement, babygirl he knows facts you couldn't even begin to be assessed on.
- He'll bring you your favorite snacks and drinks! Occasionally he'll start talking to you only to remember you're busy and cut himself off mid word–he doesn't mean to, it's just whenever he finds something interesting he immediately wants to share it with you.
- Second you say you're done he'll insist on doing something to celebrate, whatever gets your batteries recharged, whether that's going out and doing something fun or snuggling down and watching a movie, he thinks you deserve a reward.
K’Sante
- Actually very studious, he knows how to knuckle down and get something done. If you have trouble keeping on track he can help with that. Like he gets this gaggle of dumbasses to meet deadlines, he's pretty good at figuring out what motivates people
- His knowledge base is mostly music theory and visual design, but he'll help out if he can.
- He'll invite you to his place and make you lunch as a treat, which is very motivating because he is a fantastic cook. Plying you with food is also his way of maneuvering you into taking breaks when you need them.
- He can tell when you start slowing down and need to call it for the day, and gently extracts you from your work by suggesting you take a walk and stretch your legs or something.
Bonus
- Whole band is throwing you a party as soon as your exams are over, whether it's a celebration of your hard work or a ‘thank fuck it's over’ bash. There will be another party when you get your results back, they'll take any excuse for a party if it means you'll be there.
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Text
Guns and... Aeons?
May Aventurine grant his luck upon everyone's Boothill pulls!!!
— C/W : spoilers?, set at the end of the 2.2 quest, boothill is boothill ft. argenti, i forgot what his lore is so take anything i say with a grain of salt, LOTS of yapping, guns and roses sneak, very self-indulgent :3
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Boothill never really had much faith in Aeons, much less worshipped any. He already lost it all when he gained the information, that darned rain of fire that destroyed everything, was deployed by a zealot.
Don't get him wrong, he still knew they existed. But he internally wished that maybe, if any Aeon took pity on him on that day, maybe he could have changed the outcome of it all.
Well, that was all in the past now. He'd be a rusted out piece of metal by now if he let himself wallow in bygone events.
A low sigh didn't fail to make itself known, inadvertently catching the attention of the knight just at the other end of the room. Boothill even forgot he was there due to how quiet he was.
"A rose for your thoughts, friend?" The knight inquired, sitting at the other end of the couch. He nearly jumped at the sudden question but was just as quick to regain his composure.
"Nothin' much, just thinkin' and all," he replied, only tilting his head to look at this eccentric friend of his.
Ironic that Argenti was a man quite devoted to an Aeon, especially to a long deceased one, when Boothill was borderline detesting a good amount of them.
"This dadgum pull I've been feelin'... D'you know somethin' about it, knight?"
It was something he'd been feeling for a while now but it's been getting stronger as of late. And the voices... He'll leave those out till Argenti mentions something about it.
To put it frankly, he was worried. Quite more so if nothing else.
"Does it make you feel like wanting to visit the Astral Express, friend?" Argenti inquired shortly after,
Boothill simply nodded, curious as to how this Knight of Beauty knew of such. Sensing his curiosity, said knight certainly wouldn't mind going into the further details.
In fact, he was more than enthusiastic to do so.
"As Idrila's reason to have ascended into Aeonhood, it is only natural that I give high praises to the Aeon of Creation for such magnificence— that THEIR creations have inspired my Goddess to reach THEIR most pinnacle potential."
If this was how he talked about his Aeon and this... well, other Aeon, the two would be here till his batteries run out. And he was just about done recharging to full a few hours ago.
It wasn't till a good amount of minutes into the topic that Boothill kinda got a little impatient. No offense to Argenti, of course.
"And it wasn't till recently that their wondrous consciousness graced the unive—"
"Alright, alright, I get it, knight. Don't mean to offend ya, but can ya get straight to why I felt the pull earlier?" Boothill interjected, looking straight at his companion,
He swore that the way this man shone brightened up even more.
"My apologies if I overwhelmed you, dear friend," Argenti said, giving the cowboy an apologetic bow while he was sitting.
"Simply put, this pull you feel is but the manifestations of the Aeon of Creation! Perhaps your brilliant self captured THEIR attention when you were conversing with the Trailblazer," he continued, yapping up another storm as Boothill thought to himself.
"Seriously? This ol' hunk of metal? Catchin' an Aeon's attention? Colour me fudgin' surprised."
"Ah, this is certainly a moment worth celebrating, don't you think so, friend?" Argenti's voice spoke out, bringing his attention back to the knight.
Yet, before this interstellar cyborg cowboy could even agree or otherwise, a black envelope materialized in front of him, the edges lined with red and gold designs.
One surprise after another, huh?
The knight was quick to encourage him to open it up, taking out a letter opener from who knows where. Well now he's starting to get excited.
A golden Star Rail Pass was the first to get taken out of it, its colour shining in the midst of the room's lights. Next was a neatly folded paper that was probably penned by the Astral Express' Conductor. (Somehow; I mean, look at their itty bitty hands) It reads as follows:
—————————✧—————————
Hello, future Astral Express member, Boothill! This letter has been written by Pom-pom to formally invite you to join the Trailblaze.
By all means, this doesn't mean that you should abandon your faith for any Aeon(s) you may believe in, so long as it doesn't prohibit the other members of the Astral Express from going about their days.
As you may have guessed, yes, the golden ticket provided inside is a very formal way for Pom-pom to ask you to join us, as well as a sign that the Aeon of Creation has taken a liking to you!
To compensate for any forms of distress or trouble their consciousness has caused you, the Astral Express will be willing to offer a living space, electricity, wifi, food, water(gasoline?), as well as any other necessities and wants you may have.
Though if you truly want to seek trouble with the IPC, as the Aeon commented, please leave the Astral Express out of association for any crime you may commit in the future.
If you're ready to take on this journey with the Nameless, as well as many others, please use the ticket once the thought of doing so so much as suggests the notion.
• P.S. : Unfortunately, you don't have much time to mull it over, much less get another letter in this envelope to choose who to cover for you instead.
• The Aeon of Creation awaits your presence. •
—————————✧—————————
As Argenti finished reading the letter aloud, the expectant lilt on his face that he looks at Boothill with catches his attention the most.
"I nearly forgot to mention, dear friend, as a faithful believer of this Aeon, one can assure you that THEY don't mean any harm," he spoke, a smile gracing his lips as he continued. "The blessings THEY give to ones that they favour are quite abundant, and your captivating self truly made its impact on THEM."
"Even THEY couldn't help but praise you endlessly for your courage and demeanor!" Argenti proclaimed, almost making the cowboy in front of him want to tune him out again. ... That last part was a lie.
With a reluctant sigh, finally agreeing with the knight, the golden Star Rail Pass and the envelope in hand, Boothill stood up from his seat and went over to exit his friend's ship— to which Argenti quickly stopped him, hand outstretched for him.
"Need me to lead you there, friend?" He asks, head tilting to his left as his eyes brightened up with that usual glow.
"... Yeah, sure. Ya won't stop botherin' this ol' piece of metal to give ya updates if I said otherwise," Boothill laughed at the end of his reply, taking the knight's hand and letting him lead the way.
Maybe making a decision with a third party beside him won't be so bad.
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Note : ong this took WAY TOO LONGGGGG TO MAKEEEEEEE 😭😭
My most sincere apologies to anyone whose patience ran out while waiting for this fic to come out 💔
BUT IT'S OUT NOW SO REJOICE EVERYONE ‼️‼️
Anyways, have a lovely day to all of you !! (disappears for another month)
And yes dw my interp of sahsr/sahsrau will come out maybe around late june once my recognition finally comes to pass
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nalyra-dreaming · 19 hours
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Hi! I want to thank you on the way you talk about The Marius Issue, it really helped me understand readings of it outside my own (i think most of the critique is very valid, and absolutely in line with the books and even with in-universe judgement on the events. Its just wild how many people seem to run on the few descriptors and believe that's all there is to it)
I am actually concerned that the way they introduced the idea of Marius, it would be easy falling into a kink-negative rabbit hole of "every Dom is inherently an abuser, every Sub is actually a victim and there is no way that dynamic could be fun or consentual". Because there has been similar thing already established with Louis and Lestat and now also with Louis and Armand. And then we will get to Daniel and Armand as well... That's so much revisiting to do, i am scared the show would not be able to pull it off, should we trust the writers?
For me, a cool thing about Armands and Mariuses relationship is that they affect each other pretty equally. Armand knows exactly where to push Marius to get what he wants, and Marius complies, always. Very often against reason. (EXPOSED! ThE MoSt ReASonAbLe TVC character is weak in the face of one specific boy and fumbles hard on his so-called Morals!)
Marius is portrayed to be very concerned for Amadeo distancing himself from humanity, and he tries over and over to push Amadeo back to it. His moral failure is that he can't do it fully, never actually commits to it - there is too much love, too much obsession and too much underlying conviction that Amadeo will recieve the Blood one day, hence the grooming.
There is so much nuance to it, like a fucked up tapestry of doom unrevelling its horrid beauty from the day Armand did not die in the brothel.
Yes, do trust the writers.
I know it was reduced to "dom/sub" in interviews, but I do think it is all a lot more complicated, and we see that already with how Loustat has shifted in this season already, despite it being "only" Louis.
We are on a POV show.
S3 will be Lestat's. I firmly believe we will have more characters there "chiming in", so to speak. There will not be a black and white picture of any of these characters, pun not intended - they will all be morally gray, and their actions understandable - and horrendous.
I am sure the show will make a very firm commentary re Marius, and I have a feeling that.... there maybe was a past to Daniel and Marius already, and now that Daniel knows... that commentary will come from him, maybe (after he remembers, of course). I think there is a lot of potential in it all, without watering anything down.
I disagree a bit that Marius is "only" weak in the face of Armand... there was more to it all in the books. Hints, mostly. The "ankles of the boys", for example.
I do think it good that the show makes it's commentary. And not everything they point out will be comfortable to acknowledge.
But I for one appreciate them for doing this.
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icedmetaltea · 1 day
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Just lettin ya'll know I'm ok
(random irl stuff to journal below, keep scrollin)
Wanted to wait to come back till
1. I wasn't dealing with mega gender dysphoria, my masc/neutral days are few and far between but by god it's been nonstop masc/neutral days lately and been a lot of just hating my body (and myself in general)
2. got the ebt stuff figured out, which I haven't yet, my doc put in a ref for a different place to sign a thing, waited 2 weeks for them to call, only to find out it was the wrong place and now I have to wait for the next place to call... which like yea I'm worrying about food but talking about it in therapy has helped somewhat. She reassured me even if that doesn't work we WILL find some place that'll sign the form I need to be eligible again
3. I wasn't dealing with as bad of depression/anxiety which like... idk. I've definitely been doing better anxiety-wise but idk if that's bc it hasn't been as hot lately or I've been feeding myself better. I know I must've been eating under 1200s calories the past few weeks bc the scale finally stopped going down and I know for a fact my anxiety gets bad when I'm hungry so I think for about a month I was unintentionally starving myself, SO making myself eat at least 2 nutritious meals a day now
At the same time I think perhaps my pmdd symptoms are... reversing time schedules??? Usually my anxiety/depression gets way worse before period but now it seems like it's fine before and terrible during/after????? Makes zero sense but who knows. Also it's a couple days late now so health anxiety is going off the shits about PCOS or something again UGH
Making SOME progress with therapy, am able to be outside for 5 mins without feeling that horrific sense of dread so that's something.
I've also been coming to the realization that I may have some form of DID?? Not the type where you lose time/blackout/completely have entirely different memories and starkly different personality switches but I've definitely been noticing now that I've been putting more attention to it how I go into different "modes" and sets of interests throughout the weeks and I mean... it's not secret I have imaginary friends I talk to on the daily. I've had an issue figuring out where "they" end and "myself" begins since childhood. Plus I already deal with derealization/dissociation/occasional age regression so it's not out of the realm of possibility. May bring it up next therapy apt. Kinda worried to bc I never want to get rid of them and I'm worried that would be one of the goals, like... just no. I can't think of anything more lonely.
But yea just random stuff I needed to get outta my system, sorry about all the suicidal stuff, it's just really hard. The future seems so bleak. And if one thing sets me back, like doctor stuff, food issues, etc my brain is like "DEATH WOULD BE EASIER LOL" BUT there's a chance trump/a republican candidate won't win, a chance climate change will be reversed/humanity will adapt somehow, a chance I'll be accepted for disability and live a halfway decent life, and if not... well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But for now there's food in the fridge, for now mom and dad are alive, for now we're ok.
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