#no matter what obstacles they throw at it

[dystopiandramaqueen]

Endgame

I'm gonna say something that may be unpopular, but I think it's important.

I've sat with it for a couple weeks and I'm pretty certain that June genuinely loves Luke AND Nick.

June is polyamorous.

Her heart can hold love for more than one person at a time.

It's actually very feminist and progressive and modern of the show to depict a polyamorous female- to allow her to have real feelings for two (2) different humans at the same time.

Traditionally- in many cultures- women were property.

Literally bought and sold. Exchanged for dowries. Traded between fathers and husbands.

"Love" wasn't part of any of it.

If women had sexual intercourse with men other than their husbands- they were shamed and punished.

As long as stories have been passed down, "cheating" women have been vilified.

In The Bible, Adultery is listed In the 10 commandments from the same (male) Judeo-Christian God who watched and said nothing as King David seduced the wife of another man, sending him to his death at the Battle front so he could "have" her.

In the Scarlett Letter, she literally had to wear a visible symbol on her chest for the whole town to see. Permenant, public slut shaming for having felt love for a man other than her husband. HOW DARE SHE!

The Trojan War- depicted in The Odyssey- happens because Helen of Troy takes a lover and leaves her husband. All the nations go to war because a woman chose to take a lover outside her marriage.

Isolde's affair with Tristan and Gwenivere's affair with Lancelot? Forbidden! Their love had to be kept secret from King Mark and King Arthur. When it was discovered, the husbands were devastated. The kingdoms were destroyed. Again, literal death and destruction. She had to choose. She couldn't have both. Her happiness? Not acceptable.

Romeo and Juliet Die bc her family didn't approve of her choice of lover.

Traditional folk songs are full of stories about killing an errant woman. "Mama's in the graveyard, papa's in the penitentiary" "I thought I was her daddy, but she had three more." "I shot that bad bitch down."

The list goes on. You get my point.

I use the past tense... but everything Atwood depicts in The Handmaid's Tale exists in the real world. The oppression in this story isn't fiction, it's history. She did that on purpose.

Atwood wrote The Handmaid's Tale so that modern women wouldn't take the hard-won freedoms we enjoy for granted.

I've read headlines about "Honor Killings" in the middle east- where brothers or fathers kill an errant family member for shaming the family. Still. Happening. Today.

These are the stories we grew up on.

June grew up on those stories too. June feels shame when she's attracted to Nick. In the book, June thinks Luke is dead, but she STILL still feels guilt, and begs Luke's forgiveness in her mind for her "weakness" and "faithlessness."

The show writers depicted this beautifully in June's taped confession to Luke in S3. She admits shame and tells Luke he should also find comfort in another, like she has. She releases him from the bonds of monogamy.

Ok. SO.

A TRADITIONAL story would have one of the following ending options:

June confesses her "sin" to Luke, who would have every right to punish her- with shame or a slap to the face, or divorce.

June returns to Luke as his property, downplaying her affair with Nick. Revoking, forsaking it- to return to the safety of Luke's protection.

June revokes her marriage, saying its over, she doesn't love him anymore, "choosing" Nick. Hiding in the safety of HIS arms. This would undoubtedly provoke a man like Luke to violence. Like the trojan war. Like in the fucking bar in Toronto when Luke shoves Nick.

Luke or Nick die, making the decision for her.

But this is a feminist story, written by a woman. At the end of the Testaments, Atwood has both Luke AND Nick present in June's life.

June doesn't have to choose. She can love and be loved by both.

Our hearts can hold love for more than one person at a time.

It's not hurtful if everyone involved knows about each other.

Luke asks her to contact Nick to help with Hannah.

Nick is aware of and Glad for Luke's help from Toronto in sheltering June once she's out.

There are no secrets, no deception. Just love.

Polyamorous people can still feel jealousy, and hurt- it's not EASY to navigate- but when she's with Luke, she's with Luke. When she's with Nick, she's with Nick.

When she says "I love you" to one, she means it.

It isn't false because she also said it to someone else.

We see in Gilead- what it looks like when women are property. Named for their captors. Of-FRED. Of- Luke. Of-Nick. It is BAD and harmful. To be defined by your captor. To be owned by a man like property.

The Handmaid's Tale is healing and beautiful because June reclaims her freedom by reclaiming her sexual agency. By having sex with Nick "because it feels good" June frees herself, even while she is still a captive.

It's the point of the whole story.

So as we watch her tale play out in Season 6, let's remember that June doesn't have to choose between Luke and Nick. Spoiler alert: according to The Testaments, she won't.

This isn't Twilight. She doesn't have to forsake mortal life and become what Edward is, or lose Edward to be with Jacob.

If the writers were going to force a DEFINITIVE endgame with Nick, they could have killed Luke off twice now. Once while he was detained by border agents, and once when he was fighting the man who ran June over.

They didn't kill Luke off.

Luke will remain a part of June's life. He's the father of her child, and holds a special place in her heart. His love survived her absence, and is doing its best to adapt to her new post-trauma reality. He is growing with her now. Doing everything he can to help, just like Nick. Is Luke as savvy as Nick? As graceful and open? No. But he's from a different world. I'm open to Luke's growth as long as it allows for Nick, the same way Nick allows for Luke.

Nick is ok with June loving more than one person. It doesn't diminish his love for her. His love isn't possessive. He will never own June. She is NOT "his". That's cannon. Nick, depicted by Max Minghella, is impressed by Luke's love for June, and glad for it. He looks impressed when Tuello tells him the driver who injured June is in the ICU. Glad June has another protector, who is free to act in ways he can't.

June can have both.

She can love two men. Openly.

And that is pretty fuckin cool.

#polyamory #meta #nick x june #nick blaine #osblaine #when the discomfort rises #sit with it #and know that june's love for nick will never fail #no matter what obstacles they throw at it #love never fails #not looking for discussion #just needed to say it

[hoshigray]

Had the most random thought, but what if you caught Miguel by surprise and sneaked a kiss on the back of his neck when he's stressed out?

An: Don't mind me, just feeling soft for Miguel because he's corrupting my brain at the moment, lol. Also, wanted to write this to distract me from the fact Pleasurable Practice got smacked with a community label ffs. But, tysm for the love on that fic <33, and [MAYBE] I'll work on pt ii for next week! Thanks again, you lovelies, and enjoy!!

Edited Note: Also, here's an ATSV masterlist I made earlier for your convenience!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - stressed Miguel bc when is he not - you give him a kiss on the neck - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love) - just you and Miguel being adorbs and him being whipped hehe~

Wc: 902

"Aaaaaarrgh!!!"

You snap away from what you were doing to find where the noise came from. Not to your surprise, it's from your boyfriend — Miguel O'Hara, who's expressing his dismay by throwing another tray full of empty containers you got from the cafeteria.

The man is descending from his [godforsaken slow-ass] station, tapping his feet and huffing by the second. His brows are furrowed in anger, and he moves a hand to soothe his forehead with his fingers. When his post finally stops, he jumps down to sit on a chair and groans into his hands.

That was the third time this week. A villain was supposed to be captured and brought into the Spider Society to be sent back to their own universe; however, that was two days ago. And for some reason, this evil-doer has been hopping in and out of multiple universes. It's been a hassle for the other Spiders to grab hold of them; Lyla has to have eyes on them within every minute of every hour, and Miguel...Obviously, he would like to have this matter taken care of already.

You get up from where you're sitting and walk up behind Miguel, whose face is still covered by his hands with inaudible curses that you can tell are in Spanish. "You okay?"

The rise and fall of his broad shoulders entail a huge sigh seething out of his system. "No, mi amor." He frees his face only to rest his forehead with a hand propped by his leg. "This game of cat-and-mouse has been going on longer than necessary, got Spiders who're tired of the chase — I'm tired, yet there's more stuff piling up and—" He stops himself with another deep sigh, and you place your hands on his shoulders. "I just can't right now...."

All you can do is hum aimlessly while massaging his shoulders, his trapezius and deltoids tense with stress. You understand that a lot is going on for Miguel, giving him his space and letting him do what he does best: being a hero. But of course, being a superhero isn't all sunshine and rainbows, and you're bound to get hit with obstacles that'll hinder your progress. Annoyingly so, if you're a leader of an organization like your boyfriend.

Nevertheless, he's only one man, and you know he forgets this fact when he's too wrapped up in work. He's dedicated to protecting his peers, his home, and you. And although you appreciate the sentiment sincerely, you wish he'd remember to not go too hard on himself before he's burnt out.

You sigh through your nostrils, your hands kneading out any remnants of tension while Miguel indulges before storming back to work. That's when an idea hits you when your eyes land on the back ends of his hair, a smile creeping in slowly. Your hand brushes the lower tufts of his brown strands, and you lean down to press your soft lips on him after pulling his suit to expose his neck.

Immediately, Miguel goes rigid at the feeling of your lips on him. And his breath hitches when your hands wrap around him, pulling him closer to you as you lay your chin on top of his head (which you realize is a rare opportunity as he's taller than you).

"Mi lindo araña," You chuckle to yourself when you notice hints of red sneaking on the lobes of his ears. "The more you stress yourself, the more you look like a grouchy face."

"A grouchy face?" His tone holds slight confusion. "You've been hanging with Peter B. too much, amorcito." He shakes his head while you giggle, and you two sink into each other's presence for a little while, taking in the silence outside of the calming breaths Miguel takes. If he were to confess, it's as if almost all his fatigue has vanished into thin air when he's in your embrace. But he doesn't say anything — he doesn't have to. Because you already know.

You set your lips on his temple. "Feeling okay now?" His body vibrates from a tiny purr, and you remove yourself to stand up straight. "Alright then, I'm gonna go to the cafeteria to get something to share. Because you clearly need a snack. And while I'm gone, pick up that tray and those empty containers off the floor before Lyla has another reason to call you a 'grumpy man-child.'"

His face molds to a deep scowl from the mention of his pixelated peer's name-calling. "I am not a man-child."

You give him a look. "You kinda are."

"And what gives you that—"

"Muñeco," Miguel quickly refrains from arguing when you call him by his nickname, the name only you can use. "If you're not a man-child, why haven't you stood up and done what I asked yet?"

The man opens his mouth, yet no words dare leave. Reddish-brown eyes are honed in on your figure as you survey his reaction, and he exhales in defeat when he stands up from his chair. Your smile flourishes. "I'll be back," is what you say as you turn to exit his domain and head to the cafeteria.

Miguel watches you leave until you're out of his line of sight, unable to fight the twinge of his lips while he moves to pick up his mess like you instructed him to.

"Sólo tú puedes darme órdenes, mi alma."

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑺𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔 #miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x black reader #miguel o'hara x chubby reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x gn!reader #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara

[ozzgin]

[Baki Masterlist]

Yandere! Pickle x Reader

"Was that Hanayama on the phone?" you inquire slightly distracted. "What did he want?"

"I'll explain more on the way, (Y/N). I know it's a bit sudden, but we should hurry."

Baki grabs your wrist with gentle confidence and begins to sprint lightly, allowing you to match his pace.

"What the hell? Did something happen?" you increase your speed without complaints, though you'd like to know why you just started running like a madman.

"Remember that caveman we saw on TV?"

"Pickle? Yeah, how is that-" your mouth hangs open for a few more seconds as you process the information, and as everything finally clicks into place you furrow your brows at the young boy. He quickly turns his head to glance at you and flashes an apologetic smile.

"I just wanted to see him with my own eyes. Aren't you curious, too?"

You press your lips together and just look ahead. When Baki is like this, there's no point in arguing. The two of you have developed this dynamic of a little brother looking for trouble and the older sibling going along with it, too softened by their affection to say no.

You assume you've reached your destination when a large group of men are standing close together, observing something in frightened silence. You push past them and notice Hanayama, standing casually in front of the large man that's been making the headlines for the past days. Your eyes trace the heavy dents and cracks left in the asphalt, somewhat regretful for missing the event that caused them.

Pickle turns around, following Hanayama's gaze. Among the terrified expressions there's a small boy grinning with excitement. Next to him is an even smaller human who immediately reminds Pickle of the woman that had approached him upon his arrival. His eyes widen as he takes in the soft features and smooth frame. The tiny human returns the stare, although with detached indifference. Pickle can feel his heart throbbing loudly in his chest. He doesn't sense any fear and that entrances him greatly.

"Hey, come on, don't be like that." Baki snaps him back to reality. "I've been looking forward to seeing you, you know? I wanted to meet you so badly! When I heard you escaped, I asked Hanayama to keep an eye out for me."

Pickle extends his fist, seemingly unimpressed by the monologue, and Baki doesn't hesitate to return the gesture. Within seconds Baki finds himself flipped upside down, but he quickly readjusts himself and lands safely, struck with amazement.

"Isn't that aikido?!" you gasp in disbelief, sharing Baki's reaction. Pickle immediately picks up on the fact that you've observed him and a satisfied smile appears on his face. Were you impressed by his newly acquired skills? Whatever bizarre techniques these humans were throwing at him weren't hard to decipher nor reproduce.

Pickle's musings are interrupted by a strong kick to the face. Baki barely manages to contain himself. He's panting and sweating with feverish anticipation.

Before Pickle can react, the tiny human swings her arm and whacks the boy behind his head.

"Oi! What's the matter with you? This is the kind of face you make when seeing your girlfriend, not some random museum exhibit. Tone it down or I'll let Kozue know what kind of pervert she's dating!"

"It's not like that!" Baki rubs his freshly earned wound in embarrassment. "And you didn't have to hit me that hard. You're going to scare Pickle off."

The large prehistoric man watches the exchange. He doesn't understand what they're saying, but the body language indicates that they're close. Are they mates? He becomes slightly irritated at the thought. He wants to know the pretty looking human better, but it now seems there's an obstacle in the way. He'll take care of it.

***

Pickle starts walking away, guiding his new friends down the busy streets of Tokyo until they reach the underground arena. Despite Tokugawa's anger upon finding the escape artist, you whistle in admiration. You wish you had this kind of spatial orientation.

"So, what is it you want to do now that you've brought us here?" Baki is the first one to break the silence.

"Baki, isn't it obvious what you're gonna do here? You know what's done here, don't you? He's picking a fight with you!" Tokugawa exclaims, the scolding attitude from a moment ago long forgotten.

The light above you is abruptly dimmed and you look up to see that Pickle is somehow standing inches away, towering over with a wide grin. How did it bypass your attention? Tokugawa lets out a yell of surprise; Hanayama and Baki immediately switch to a defensive stance. They didn't expect this.

"W-what is he doing?" the old man mumbles in fear.

Pickle places a heavy hand on your head and ruffles your hair lightly. You stare in confusion, unsure how to react. He bends over for a brief moment and inhales in rapid intervals, as if inspecting your scent. Once satisfied, he growls at you - perhaps in an attempt to communicate - and turns back to Baki.

"Is it possible he likes (Y/N)?" Hanayama hums, weighing his thoughts.

"In that case, maybe he sees Baki as his rival?" Tokugawa points out.

"Hmmm. Then it should make this fight even more entertaining." Hanayama continues.

"I'm in the room, you know? You're talking as if I'm some meat on display." you groan in annoyance.

"Sorry, sorry, (Y/N). We'll clear things up with Pickle after this, alright? Until then let me have my fun, please~" he pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes.

The large man grinds his teeth in anger as he's witnessing this clear display of disrespect. He's just announced his intentions to claim you, and this human half his size is mocking him in plain sight. He'll make sure he never gets up again. With a thrust, he lands his foot on Baki's chest and sends him flying into the public seating. The poor young boy gasps for air and passes out almost instantly.

Pickle begins to approach him in heavy, menacing steps. Hanayama raises his arms in his signature stance, pondering whether or not to interfere in someone else's fight. You don't share his battle etiquette and plant yourself in the path of the Jurassic man.

"That's enough. You've won." you claim in a low, assertive demand.

Pickle puckers his lips in surprise and curiosity. His eyebrows are raised and he stops to consider. Are you trying to protect your mate? Do you not understand how these things work? He's stronger and therefore entitled to his prize. Why wouldn't you want a partner that's more capable of protecting you, anyways? It makes no sense.

He gently presses your shoulder in an attempt to move you out of the way, but it doesn't seem to do much. He increases the force to the point he can feel your arm muscles contracting and flexing, though you still don't budge. His mouth opens slightly and he lets out an inquiring growl.

Looking into your eyes, he catches a glimpse of the same determination he saw in the man he fought recently. A smile widens on his face, revealing his polished fangs. To think that such a small body is holding so much tenacity. He's very proud of himself for finding a fitting partner.

You haven't attacked him so far, so he guesses you've reached a similar conclusion. You're probably asking him to let the feeble human live with his loss. He can, of course, show this courtesy for your sake. He lifts you by the waist and holds you above his head. He can finally take his time admiring your features. He wants to etch them into his memory, down to the finest detail.

"Well...that stopped him at least." Tokugawa comments with his arms folded, standing awkwardly before the bizarre scene.

"I doubt he'll harm (Y/N), so let's get Baki out of here." Hanayama climbs up the stairs towards the unconscious boy. "Can we leave you alone with Pickle for now, (Y/N)? I'm sorry for putting you into this situation."

"I should manage", you sigh in defeat. Once again you're left to deal with the mess. You pat Pickle's head in an attempt to secure your safety even further. The large man is elated and lets out some high pitched sounds that reverberate across the arena. He even dares to wonder if his awakening was something meant in order to meet you. That's how he feels right now, at least. A fateful encounter with his lifelong companion, regardless of where this strange new life might take him.

"Ooh, Professor Payne won't be happy about this..." Tokugawa laments, following Hanayama.

***

"I'm glad you're finally done with your Jurassic adventure", you tell Baki as both of you stroll through the city.

"I'm a bit salty I didn't win, though." He slouches dramatically and you laugh at his theatrics.

"You're never satisfied with anything. You should be grateful you didn't end up like Retsu, Katsumi or Jack." you place your index in front of his face, pretending to lecture him.

"By the way, did you see the latest news? They want to put Pickle back to sleep. What will you do?"

"Me? What business do I have with it? I had him attached to my hip this whole time, I can finally catch my breath."

"It was your one and only chance to have a boyfriend!" Baki teases you with a wink. "Poor Pickle is probably going mad looking for you now. Don't you want to at least say goodbye?"

"If I go say goodbye I won't leave again, so no thank you."

You slow down as you reach the intersection. This is where you usually part ways, so your conversation has come to an end.

"Well, it was nice hanging out with you. I'll see you around." the boy waves as he continues to the left. You check the time on your phone and stretch with a yawn. You can't wait to have a proper sleep.

You arrive at your apartment and fumble with your pockets to find the keys. When you glance at the lock, you notice a massive shadow looming over the entire wall. You step back instinctively and realize that whatever is creating the shadow currently stands behind you. Two arms sprawl out and twist around your body. You're overwhelmed by a now familiar smell.

Pickle rests his head on yours and closes his eyes. Oh, the absolute terror he went through when he realized you were no longer with him! The helplessness of not being to communicate this disaster to the confused humans in white coats, staring at him without the slightest idea. How did not a single one of them comprehend that his partner vanished? He'd trashed the place over in a blind rage and turned the city upside down in his desperate search. He never felt so vulnerable and naked and weak. Thankfully, he knows your scent so well that the smallest hint of it can get him running.  

But alas, you're here now in his arms and he vows to never lose you again. He doesn't know where he is or what this reality means, but he has one certainty he can cling onto. That you're all his, until time freezes over again.

#yandere baki #baki #baki the grappler #pickle #pickle x reader #baki x reader #pickle baki

[mrs-kmikaelson]

Should've Known Better

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Mikaelsons x sister-in-law!reader, Kol Mikaelson x reader (if you squint), Marcel Gerard x mother-figure!reader Summary: After a thousand years of marriage, everything comes crumbling down, taking you with it. But you shouldn't have been so surprised; you knew that Klaus was fire, and you knew that fire burned. You should've known better. Warnings: long, lots of angst and tears, cheating, (do i put tw for violence? like it's tvd, ofc there's violence), no promises of a happy ending Words: 7.8K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: not an update for the tribrid yet, but i come bearing a peace offering. this is the only one for now, but i have an idea for a part two if you guys want one. also, tell me if you want to be on just my klaus taglist or my tvdu one.

In the past, you’d been told that your relationship with Klaus didn’t make any sense. You ignored them. They don’t know us, you thought. They don’t understand what we’ve gone through. And that, for the most part, was true.

You were turned with the Mikaelsons when you were only twenty-one years old. You and Klaus had stuck together since then. Through all the trials and tribulations, you two were inseparable. The daggering of his siblings, the hunter’s curse, his enemies coming after you, trying to break his curse—you were there every step of the way. Nothing could make you leave him. In your mind, it didn’t matter what obstacle life threw at you; you’d beat it. You beat it every single time.

Later, you realized that you should’ve known this would happen sooner.

You should’ve known that it was too good to be true.

You could still remember walking into your shared apartment that day in the nineties. You were on top of the tallest mountain, feeling like you were on top of the world. Until suddenly you fell, plummeting down to the ground as the life you’d built fell with you. But that wasn’t the right word to use. You did not fall that day.

You were pushed.

“Nik, I got the-”  you cut yourself off, dropping the bags in your hands to the ground. Something in them cracked, but you couldn’t hear a thing. Your world went silent; it was as if the only cracking you could hear was the cracking of your own heart.

Klaus quickly got up, speeding to you. While he was able to get his pants on quickly, there was nothing he could do to hide the blonde in his bed- your bed.

“Y/N, love, it’s not-”

“It’s not what, Klaus?” Tears that you didn’t even know were there raced down your cheeks. You saw him wince when you addressed him. You never called him that.

“This is not what it looks like.”

“Oh, really? So you didn’t just fuck this girl in our bed?” At that, his eyes went downcast. You felt your hands shake. He had no explanation to give you and you knew that; it wouldn’t matter if he had one, anyway. You weren’t gonna stick around to listen to it.

You sped out of your shared apartment as fast as you could, not caring if any human onlookers saw. That day, you swore to yourself that you were done.

You should’ve known better.

That day, you ended up running to Elijah, hoping he would give you refuge, but you knew now that it was wishful thinking. It didn’t matter that Klaus and Elijah were fighting. It didn’t matter how close you and the nobleman were, how much he claimed to care for you. At the end of the day, his brother would still mean more to him.

So, that same day, Elijah brought you right back to Klaus.

You refused to talk to him, but he begged, and begged, and begged. He promised, and promised, and promised. He showered you with affection and more sweet-nothings than he’d ever given you. So, you thought to yourself, he’s trying. He just made a dumb mistake. We all deserve second chances.

You kick yourself now for ever being so stupid. But, at the time, all you could think about was the centuries upon centuries of love the two of you shared. It felt like a crime to throw it all away over one mistake.

But it wasn’t just one mistake.

“Y/N, love, please don’t do this-” Klaus reached a hand out to grab your arm, but you shoved him away. You stormed out of the house, your husband following right behind you. It was pouring outside, but you didn’t care. There was a much more dangerous storm brewing inside of you. You’d prefer to be out in the rain than to ever be in that house with him again.

“Y/N, please-”

“Get the hell away from me.”

“Y/N-”

You spun on your heel and exploded, “Get the hell away from me, Klaus!” The rain hid it all so well, but you were both crying.

“Please, I can’t lose you.” You finally broke down, letting out a sob. You fell down to the ground as Klaus tried desperately to catch you, ending up kneeling on the ground next to you.

You tried to hard to be strong, not to cry, but you couldn’t help it. You were smart; you knew better than to let a man do this to you. But, when it came to Klaus, the man you’d spent your entire life with, your heart overpowered your head.

Your voice cracked with every word you spoke. “You said this would never happen again.”

“Love-”

“No, you promised me, Nik, you said never again.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “You said you would never put me through this again-”

“Y/N-”

“It’s been all of ten years, and here we are, in the same position you put us in last time-” You cut yourself off sobbing as your voice failed you. You buried your head in your hands. The heartbreak you felt was ineffable, so much more intense than the last time. When you said your vows all those years ago, so high on happiness, you never could’ve imagined that you’d one day feel like this—that Klaus would make you feel like this.

He didn’t say anything else. There was nothing to say. There was no defence for what he was doing to you. So instead, he wrapped his arms around you, and being tired, you let him.

It was funny, almost. Even as he engulfed you in his warmth, even after he took you inside and placed you by the fireplace, you still felt so cold.

After the second time, you left him. You woke up the morning after, wrapped in his arms, and you left without looking back. Leaving him almost hurt just as much as catching him in the act, but you knew this was what was best. You needed to do this.

This time, you didn’t go to Elijah. You cut off all communication with the Mikaelsons completely, even though they were both blowing up your phone. After the first fifty phone calls, you threw it in a dumpster.

Being away from Klaus made you feel better, but you still didn’t feel like you. For a long time, you felt broken, incomplete, so used. You didn’t know who you were without him. But you got better. 

Slowly, you built yourself back up, building walls around your heart so that no one could ever do that to you again. But if Klaus was the big bad wolf, then you may as well have just been a little piggy because, when he found you, he blew those walls down effortlessly as if they were made of straw.

See, Klaus Mikaelson was like a whirlpool: try and swim away all you want, but he would just keep sucking you in until you’d eventually die.

You should’ve known better.

You walked into your apartment with a kick in your step. It was a good day; you were happy. But the smile on your face dropped when you saw the figure standing in your home.

You tried to go back out through the door, but Klaus was faster, speeding to you and closing it shut, caging you between the door and him. You let out a shaky breath, unable to turn around as you rested your forehead against the door, tears welling in your eyes.

It’d been three years since you last saw him, the longest you’d ever gone without seeing him, yet he still made you feel things that no one else on earth could.

For a moment, you were both mute until you broke the silence, whispering, “What are you doing here?”

You heard him swallow as if he was scared, but you were the one that was terrified. Klaus would never lay a hand on you, but he could hurt you in ways that were so much worse, so at that moment, you feared for your life. Because you knew that, with the right words, he could get you to fall into his trap again, and going through all this again would kill you.

“I-” he paused, like he was gathering his thoughts. You thanked whatever god was out there that he didn’t make you face him. “I knew you were here, I just- I wanted you to have time to yourself, but, Y/N, it’s time to come home now.”

Your lips quivered as you struggled to hold the tears. He made it sound like this was a game, and maybe to him it was, but it wasn’t like that for you. This wasn’t a break that you’d just “come back” from; you were done, you promised yourself that.

You shook your head, but Klaus spoke before you could even utter your protests. “I can break my curse.” Your eyes involuntarily went wide, not having expected that. You were just about to spin around, but he turned you first. As soon as your eyes met his, you couldn’t help the tear that fell down your face.

It was like you forgot how beautiful he could be.

He looked to be having somewhat of the same reaction as you, scanning over you as if couldn’t tell that you were real. And honestly, you even felt like pinching yourself, too.

His voice got softer. “There’s a girl in Virginia, the doppelgänger.” He paused to let you say something, but you were so taken aback by everything that’d happened after you stepped into your apartment that you were practically speechless. How ironic. You’d spent months agonizing over all you’d say to him if you ever saw him again, but now that you were, you had nothing to say.

“I am so close, Y/N,” he whispered. His hands cupped your cheek so gently that a stranger would’ve never guessed that this man had destroyed entire villages, that he even destroyed you, too. When he rested his forehead on yours, the tears that you were trying so hard to hold in came falling like your eyes were a waterfall. “I can- I can wake the rest of the family. Rebekah, Kol, Finn- I know how much you miss them all.”

Your heart tightened in your chest because you did miss them, but you forgot just how much you missed him.

“We can be a family again, Y/N.” You screwed your eyes shut. Your husband was a smart man. Whether the tears in his eyes were real or if he was just a great actor, you couldn’t be sure, but he knew exactly what your weak-spots were and he was using them against you.

This wasn’t fair, you thought. This wasn’t fair at all.

“Please, let us be a family again.” You opened your eyes, biting your lip to prevent the sobs from escaping. “I love you.” Oh, you should’ve kept your eyes closed. You should’ve sped out the door the second you saw him. You should’ve ran farther, tried harder to disappear so that he would’ve never found you.

But none of that mattered.

Because, just like that, you folded.

After a week, you ended up leaving with Klaus. You helped him with his plans to become a hybrid, and he was trying, you could tell he was really trying, but your marriage wasn’t the same. Whenever you kissed him, you couldn’t help but wonder, did she kiss him like this? When you made love, you wondered, was he so tender and loving with her, too? Were you even as special as he told you that you were?

There was only so much trying he could do. You knew the damage was done. You now had insecurities that no amount of sweet words could ever get rid of. You were such a confident woman, but you didn’t feel that way, not anymore.

Your mirror was cracked, sure, but you could still see yourself. You still saw a future, a bright future. You, Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, Finn—you could all be a family, just like Klaus told you that day. You could see it.

So you stayed.

Eventually, they were all woken up. For a while, things felt normal, like when you’d been human. But you were starting to learn that good things never lasted long enough.

When Esther came back, she tried to kill you all. You defeated her, as a family, but no matter how hard you tried to convince them, your siblings all left. This family’s broken, Kol said to you. You’d best get out while you can, Y/N.

You should’ve listened to him.

But you didn’t, and you’d later wonder if things would’ve been different. If you took Kol’s offer to come with him, to leave your husband and travel the world, then would you have been happy?

You tell yourself you’d never know, but you knew deep down that you would’ve been happy, that at least you wouldn’t have been devastated.

It was only you and Rebekah; you were the only ones that could stick by Klaus. In that way, you two were one in the same, two sides of the same coin. You’d always be living in the same hell, trying to get to heaven by being loyal to him, but little did you both know, the longer you stayed, the deeper down into hell you went. Until heaven was unobtainable. 

For a while, things were okay. You and Klaus were okay—God, you were just getting to okay. And then Kol died.

That took the cake. Nothing you’d ever felt was so painful, not even what your soulmate did to you, or the man who was supposed to be your soulmate.

Suddenly, you were wishing you could turn back time, wishing you could’ve gone with Kol when he asked you to, wishing you could��ve spent more time with him—you just got him back.

After Kol’s death, it was like the idea of a family became unobtainable, too.

You were in pieces, but Rebekah stayed strong. She handled Klaus while you couldn’t, because wasn’t that your job? What else were you here for—what else were either of you here for?

You wanted to kill Jeremy Gilbert, to rip him and Elena to shreds and to make the Salvatores watch. You wanted them to feel even an inch of your pain, but Klaus didn’t let you, and you resented him for it.

The way he behaved after Kol’s death was unforgivable to you, but you were able to see past it because what was his death if it wasn’t a wake up call? You didn’t want to take this life for granted; you didn’t want to wake up one day, regretting not spending time with your husband because he was dead.

So you repaired the bond that was severed after Kol. You held him and he held you just as tight, if not tighter. Neither of you wanted to lose the other. So you worked for it, you worked for something better, you worked to be something like what you were before—to be anything like what you were before.

But, oh, you should’ve known better.

You didn’t walk in on Klaus cheating on you a third time. He confessed to you, tears in his eyes. He begged, and made promises, and begged, and begged, and cried, and cried, and he did the whole routine, but you were silent throughout it all.

You didn’t cry. You felt like your body was out of tears. God knows you’d cried an ocean away for Klaus, for this family, for the family you could’ve had.

You didn’t say anything, but you knew better now. You weren’t gonna run away, you’d learned from your mistakes. Instead, you moved into a different room in the house. The flowers, the jewelry, the sweet words—oh, all of the things that’d made you swoon in the past didn’t faze you. You’d been force-fed so many sweet words that you now had a tooth ache that no doctor could fix.

You didn’t talk to Klaus for weeks, but when the time came, you followed him to New Orleans. You were practically lifeless, but when Klaus brought you into a bar and you were met with the sight of the boy you took in, the boy you thought died, it was like someone took a defibrillator to your chest.

Hugging Marcel for the first time in almost a century was like CPR. Is this a play? you wondered. Is this Klaus’ strategy? But at that moment, it didn’t matter. Once again, you were reminded of Kol. You needed to cherish your loved ones while you still could, and so it didn’t matter if Klaus was using Marcel to get you to crack, you’d appreciate it, anyway.

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that you couldn’t be happy.

When you got to the plantation late at night, the house Klaus insisted you stay in, you were confused to see a brunette woman standing on the stairs.

You furrowed your brows while the woman’s went up. She looked like a deer in headlights. Before you could ask her any questions, your sister came into view. She looked almost as shocked as you.

“Rebekah?”

She ignored you. “You’re here,” she said, surprise lacing her voice and an unknown emotion in her eyes.

“Yes, I am.” You glanced in between Rebekah and the brunette, starting to become unnerved with their expressions. You didn’t know why she was surprised that you were here; it was you who should’ve been surprised at her arrival.

You should’ve known better.

“Elijah- Elijah didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

You only got more confused as she went on. “Elijah’s here?”

She ignored you again, scoffing under her breath, shaking her head at the ground. “My brother’s a fool,” she muttered. And only then did you realize that the emotion in her eyes was pity.

You looked back to the brown-haired woman, instantly realizing why she was looking at you like you were going to attack her. Quickly, you looked away before you actually did. You didn’t say the exact words out loud, but they knew that you knew.

“What is she doing here?” Your voice was sharp; you saw the girl flinch out of the corner of her eye.

When Rebekah looked up at you, you felt your heart drop. She looked at you like you were the last to be let in on the secret, like she knew she was about to single-handedly crush you. Softly, she told you, “Listen.” And so you did.

And then every other time your heart broke felt like nothing. Nothing could compare to the utter shock you felt, the pain. Because you heard a little heartbeat, and you knew the implication Rebekah was making.

You looked up to the girl to see that she was about to cry. That almost made you lose it. Who was she to cry? you thought.

You looked at Rebekah to see tears in her eyes, too. “How?” You asked, but she didn’t get a chance to reply.

“Niklaus is a hybrid, Y/N.” You turned to see Elijah slowly walking into the room. He looked careful, almost, like anything he said could set you off. “He’s not a full vampire-”

“And she’s human,” you cut him off, humourlessly chuckling. The human girl gave him a baby.

You couldn’t help but wonder, if you had a baby while you were human, would your marriage have ended up this way?

But none of that mattered. Right now, it felt like nothing mattered. Just as you thought there was nothing more Klaus could do to you, he gets his one night stand pregnant. Now she wasn’t so much of a one night stand anymore, was she?

Your siblings were looking at you like you were a china doll, like their brother had just thrown you and they were waiting for you to break. But your face was blank. On the inside, however, there was an entire hurricane taking place, but it was like your body refused to release any of it. Oh, you wanted to break down, you wanted to so badly, but it felt impossible.

There was nothing more to say- nothing you cared to hear, anyway. So you slowly walked up the stairs, heading for a guest room, ignoring Rebekah and Elijah’s calls. The blonde started crying, and if you’d looked down, then you would’ve seen Elijah burning a hole into the ground with his gaze.

You didn’t want to look at either of them, especially not your husband’s right hand man. You were growing to resent Elijah, even though there was a time when you were the best of friends. Maybe if he hadn’t brought you back to Klaus that day in 1996, then you could’ve been spared this horrible, horrible feeling. But no. Any relationship you had with a Mikaelson was trumped by the relationship they had with Klaus.

Of course, they were here, you thought. Of course, they come running back to him the second he does something stupid.

But how mad at them could you really be?

Haven’t you always been doing the same thing?

After you’d gone up stairs, you could remember popping open an old bottle of whiskey and drinking until your vision was hazy. You couldn’t remember when you fell asleep, but when you awoke, Klaus was right there in bed next to you.

You ignored your thoughts, questioning the nerve of him to get in bed with you after what you’d found out, and walked out of the room.

But you didn’t feel as angry as the night before. You felt numb, almost. The last time you felt so empty was after your parents died a thousand years ago. It didn’t necessarily bother you, though. Feeling nothing felt better than feeling everything.

So you let it be. You showered, got dressed, and left the house. Rebekah and Elijah stared at you as you left, but you didn’t give them the time of day. You went and met Marcel for breakfast like everything was fine, went shopping, then you came back home and climbed into bed. When you woke up, Klaus was there again, but you ignored it and continued with your routine.

For three weeks, you didn’t say a word to your husband. He could barely even try to speak to you; you were gone all day everyday and you were asleep by the time he came home. Rebekah would try to make conversation whenever she saw you, but she only received short answers. Elijah didn’t even try; something told you he felt guilty, and you hoped he did. The pregnant werewolf whose name you learned was Hayley would tense up every time you crossed paths. Once, she tried to apologize to you, but it was as if she were talking to a wall because you didn’t give her the slightest bit of attention.

While you weren’t communicating with the people you lived with, when you went out into the Quarter, you were a different person. You were lively, and confident, and funny, and you didn’t look like a woman whose husband cheated on her. Marcel was constantly introducing you to people; you were always surrounded by people, and while you felt so alone at first, as time progressed, you stopped feeling so lonely.

Suddenly, it was like that hole in you started to heal. The hole was still there, but it was getting better. 

One day, one of your new friends introduced you to this boy, this young, newly turned boy. And, looking at him, you felt something other than despair: you felt like you were human again. Talking to him made you feel things that you forgot existed, things Klaus used to make you feel on a daily basis.

This boy was good. He was pure, and happy, and full of life, even though he was dead.

It felt wrong at first. Klaus was the only man you had ever been with. But perhaps that was why you liked this boy so much: he reminded you of a side of your lover that had been long dormant, the side of Klaus you fell in love with.

You never slept with him. You never even kissed him. All you did was feel something.

But that didn’t matter.

Oh, you should’ve known better.

So much better.

You opened the door, your bag immediately falling to the ground at the sight you were met with. “No- no, no, no.” You sped into the living room, falling to your knees. Your tears fell with you.

In front of you, the sweet, sweet boy you were starting to feel something for was lying dead in his own apartment. You wished it wasn’t real, but his body was grey, veins all over him. With the hole in his chest, he didn’t look so peaceful anymore.

You cupped your hand over your mouth in shock, silently sobbing. You were so distraught that you didn’t even notice the footsteps behind you.

“I ripped his heart out.” You turned your head to see none other than your husband standing a few feet away from you, the red organ in his hand. While your vision was blurred, you could still see the quiet anger on his face, even though he seemed emotionless. He dropped Leo’s heart on to the ground like it was nothing.

Suddenly, a fire that you thought died out alit in your body. You all but sneered, “What is wrong with you?”

Klaus humourlessly chuckled. It was almost like you couldn’t recognize him, but oh, he had never looked more like himself. “What’s wrong with me?” He echoed. “What’s wrong with me is my wife has been sneaking around behind my back.”

You scoffed in utter disbelief and shot up from the ground. “Oh, so I’m the villain now? I’m sorry, saint Klaus, I didn’t know you were so innocent.”

“Don’t start this with me.”

You snapped. “You started this! I have been living in that house with you and your pregnant werewolf, leaving you to your own devices, but the second I try to be happy, I’m the one in the wrong?”

“Y/N-”

“No, I- I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now.” A laugh escaped from your lips, full of darkness. “I have not done any damage to this marriage.” You pointed at him. “You’re the one who broke your vows, not me. Forgive me for wanting to clutch at any happiness I could have after you took it all from me.”

Klaus pointed right back at you. “Our marriage isn’t over, Y/N- it will never be. I will never let you forget that.”

You shook your head. “This isn’t a marriage anymore.” Klaus’ mouth opened to protest, but you kept going. Everything you held in and didn’t say was coming up like bile in your throat that you desperately wanted to vomit. “You have destroyed this marriage, Klaus! Hell, you destroyed me.” You pointed to yourself, more tears coming to your eyes. “You have cheated not once but three times, and you got the last one pregnant! But the second I- what? The second I so much as talk to a man, you go and rip his heart out and get mad at me? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

His jaw clenched, and maybe there was some sign of regret or remorse in his eyes, but you honestly couldn’t care less about his feelings at the moment. “Y/N-” he started, but you didn’t dare let him finish. 

“No, it’s you who threw a thousand years down the drain, not me.” You took a step closer to him until you were chest to chest and you were looking right into his eyes. Maybe this would’ve ended in a kiss in the past, but your relationship was no longer the same. You grit your teeth.“I will never let you forget that.”

You then sped out of the apartment, running and running and not stopping until you were in an area you no longer recognized. Once you stopped, you let all of your tears fall, resting a hand on your chest and running the other through your hair. Your heart and your head were both pounding. Every time you thought Klaus couldn’t go any lower, he proved you wrong.

So, standing in the middle of nowhere, you grieved the loss of that poor boy, and at the same time, you grieved the loss of the man who was once your best friend. You grieved the loss of your marriage.

Because this was more than just killing a boy.

In doing this, Klaus killed another part of your marriage when you weren’t sure there was even anything left to kill.

After crying your heart out, you returned to the plantation and went straight to sleep. For a week, you stayed in bed, in spite of Rebekah who came knocking on your door every morning. One time, she didn’t leave so quickly after you remained mute. She sat on your bed, demanding that you eat something. When, throughout all her best efforts, you stayed silent, she threw the glass of blood onto the ground, breaking down and sobbing. Tears ran down her face as she pleaded to you, but you only stared at the wall, expressionless.

She apologized to you in between in her tears, even though it wasn’t her fault, even though you were only this way because of Klaus. But, oh, wasn’t that Rebekah’s specialty? Wasn’t that yours—stuck paying for the sins of the hybrid for the rest of your lives?

She cried, and cried, and cried, until she eventually left the room, too exhausted to keep dancing the same dance. She didn’t come back again.

You never cleaned the blood on the floor from the glass she threw. If anything, you hoped it soaked in and ruined the mahogany floors of this god awful house. It wasn’t long before you wouldn’t have to stare at that stain anymore because Klaus had come to tell you that you were leaving. You’d all be going to the Abattoir, he said.

You were confused; that was where Marcel stayed. So, for the first time in a week, you spoke. When you found out about the altercation they had, you recoiled. Both disgust and shock were on your face: disgusted at your husband’s behaviour and shocked with how he was treating Marcel.

You felt like screaming at him, but you didn’t have enough energy. Instead, you just stared at him. With your voice just barely above a whisper, you told him, That is your son, Klaus. You hoped that conveyed everything else you wanted to say. And you knew your message was received when Klaus walked out of your room without another word.

When you arrived at the compound, little changed. You and your husband still didn’t talk. Soon, when your siblings arrived, you didn’t speak to them either. Life went on this way for a long time.

Until Hayley gave birth.

Oh, life had felt so slow, but suddenly it started moving so fast.

When you first laid your eyes on little Hope, tears came to your eyes. She looked just like her father, you thought. And while you had never wanted anything to do with this, what Klaus had done, you couldn’t find it in yourself to condemn an innocent child.

Maybe Rebekah and Elijah would pay for their brother’s mistakes. Maybe you would, too. But you’d be damned if you let that baby suffer solely for being a Mikaelson.

Even if it meant you’d suffer the most.

The night Klaus came to you, you didn’t greet him, but you didn’t look at him so scathingly, either. In the courtyard, he asked something of you that’d change the rest of your life.

“Y/N, I know we’re not on the best of terms- I know I haven’t been a faithful husband, nor a good one,” he admitted, glancing down as if he were nervous before looking back up to your eyes. This was serious, and he wanted you to know that. “I know you don’t deserve this, and I know you never signed up for this. But I need your help.”

You straightened your shoulders. Whatever he was going to say, it looked like it physically pained him to say it. You wondered if this speech was inspired by Elijah, but you diverted your thoughts away from that. This wasn’t about your marriage; this was about something more important.

“You’re the only person I trust enough to do this, the only person I can really ask. It’s wrong of me to put this pressure on you after everything I’ve done, but I wouldn’t be asking if this weren’t so dire- you have to believe me.” He grabbed onto your hands, and you let him, even though it made you want to die, because when your skin made contact, you felt his hands tremble.

“Hope can’t be here; it’s not safe. The people of this city now know she is my weakness, and they will do anything to spite me, you’ve seen it firsthand.” You knew exactly what he was referring to: the day the witches tried to kill her. At the thought, you tensed. You saw tears gather in his eyes. “Please, I need her not to be here right now-”

You cut him off, almost in a state of awe as you realized what this was all about. “You need them to think she’s dead.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d just finished running a marathon, and wasn’t that what life was like in this family? With the Mikaelsons, no matter how powerful you all were, you’d always be running from something, fighting something. That couldn’t happen to Hope- not now, not yet. And so, without so much as another thought, you agreed, “I’ll do it.”

“Y/N-”

“No, Klaus, I’m doing this.” For the first time since you got to New Orleans, he saw a spark in your eye that you both thought had been extinguished. “I’ll take her, and I will protect her with my life.”

After that, he just stared at you for a few seconds. And for a moment, you as you held eye contact, you caught a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was alright, like he never cheated and like you never left. For a moment, the world stopped, and it was just you and him against the world.

But you knew better now.

You were startled when your husband suddenly embraced you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go. And then you realized how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d hugged. So, after a few seconds, if not just for the sake of it, you hugged him back. Although he quietly stammered his next words out, he still said them with more sincerity than you’ve heard from him in a long time. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You knew he was referring to more than just what he was asking of you. But, oh, you knew better now.

“I know.”

Not long after you and Klaus had that conversation, you took Hope. For the first time since you met her that day and found out she was pregnant, you actually talked to Hayley. Her eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe it. You told her that this didn’t make you two friends, but you also promised her that you’d look after her daughter. 

She thanked you after a beat of silence, and then you and Hope disappeared.

You were gone for a while until your family’s drama eased up and you got the okay to come back to the Quarter. In that time, Hope’s parents missed their daughter’s first Christmas and also her birthday. But you made sure to take all the pictures you could. Even with the way you felt about them both, you weren’t gonna let those feelings get in the way of their relationship with Hope.

Their family, rather. When you returned, you realized that this was no longer your family. Eating dinner with them your first night back only proved that to you. This baby had changed all of you. You no longer knew your husband, and he no longer knew you. 

When you first arrived to the compound, Klaus and Hayley came rushing to hug their little girl. The hybrid mouthed a thank you to you as he rubbed Hope’s back, tears in his eyes. The hostility you’d shown him from when he confessed he cheated on you all the way until just before you left New Orleans was gone. You couldn’t find it in you to be hostile as you watched him hold his daughter. In that moment, he was more than the man who betrayed you; he was a father who had been separated from his daughter.

That didn’t mean you forgave him, but you were trying to get there—for Hope.

Rebekah and Elijah showed up not a minute later. The blonde cooed at Hope while Elijah walked toward you, enveloping you in a hug that you couldn’t deny. You were worn out, and all you’d wanted this past year was to not be alone. But, deep down, you knew these efforts were futile. Things with your siblings would never be the same. 

Rebekah had once been your best friend, but she was Klaus’ little sister first. Elijah was like an older brother to you, but he was Klaus’ first. The only person who could’ve possibly understood the way you were feeling was Kol, and he was long gone.

So, even as you stood in a room full of people, you still felt just as alone as when it’d only been you and Hope.

However, your epiphany didn’t matter. Maybe if it weren’t for Hope, you would’ve left and never turned back. Maybe you could’ve gone out and tried to find yourself, tried to be that same girl you were starting to like when you left Klaus in 2006. But Hope was there, and so you knew you couldn’t go anywhere. You had to stay with your family, even if they weren’t really your family anymore, because you just had to be there. You needed to protect Hope. You needed to keep Elijah from handling everything, and you needed to keep your little sister from spinning out. You needed to be there for Klaus to fall back on if he needed to, not for him, but to make sure he could be the best father he could possibly be to Hope.

To you, it wasn’t a choice. You needed to do this.

After all, didn’t you promise always and forever?

So, you stayed. You took care of Hope and took care of Klaus when Rebekah couldn’t take it anymore. It was almost as if your once other half and you had a silent agreement. He never tried anything, not even so much as holding your hand, but you were there for him as a friend, even though it broke your heart.

The two of you never officially ended things. Part of you wondered if maybe he thought you would get back together one day, but now you knew better than to ever expect anything like that. Yes, you would stay in the compound. And yes, you would take care of Hope. And yes, you would play nice with the mother of his child. But you were no longer Klaus and Y/N Mikaelson.

You were just Klaus and Y/N.

You never went out with another boy again. It was pointless, and you never wanted to fall for someone again if this was what love felt like, if it only ever brought you pain.

For years, things went this way. There were a few threats here and there, but they were taken care of every time. Hope was the most loved child in the world. She was starting to grow up, and so she was also starting to realize that her parents weren’t together. She was starting to realize that her father looked at the woman that’d been there all her life with a look of warmth in his eyes. She was starting to ask you questions that you didn’t know how to answer, questions you weren’t prepared to answer.

So, on Christmas Eve, after everyone had went to bed, you unscrewed the oldest bottle of liquor you had. You were originally saving it for a celebratory occasion, but you, too, were starting to realize things. You were starting to realize that, perhaps, the celebration would never come.

So you sat on the couch in the courtyard in front of the fireplace, unfazed by the cold. The Christmas tree diagonal to you glimmered and gleamed, but you were no longer so magnetized to it. Something in the last few years had taken away bits and pieces of your spirit until you were no longer sure it was even there anymore.

You took a swig of the wine, indulging in its bittersweetness as you stared straight into the fire, not caring if it’d blind you. For the first time since you turned, you loathed your immortality. At first, you looked at it like a blessing, something that’d give you an eternity with your family, an eternity to travel the world and enjoy all it had to offer you.

But now it was just a curse.

Just as you took another swig, you heard footsteps behind you, and suddenly the couch dipped, someone else sitting right beside you.

You could immediately tell who it was just from the mere grace of his actions. Elijah. You glanced at the nobleman, almost scoffing at his attire. Past midnight, and yet he was still in a suit.

Your voice was raspy as you remarked, “No rest for the wicked, huh?” Elijah sighed as you passed the bottle to him. For a second, you thought he’d scold you for not using a glass, but instead he took a large gulp straight from the bottle.

“It seems that way, Y/N,” he said, passing the bottle back to you. You chuckled, but there wasn’t much humour in your tone. He didn’t ask you why you were awake, nor did you ask him. You just sat together in front fireplace, passing the bottle back and forth. You didn’t know if you were both so silent because of how tired you were or if it was because your relationship had just become that fragile.

Sitting there, no Saint Nick came by in a magic sled. There were no reindeer, or bells, or snow. There was no magic to this holiday for you anymore, and you wondered if Elijah felt the same way. You wondered if he was as tired as he looked right now, as tired as you felt. If he was, then you couldn’t help but feel bad for him because, even though you had felt resentment for him, you wouldn’t wish this on anybody.

Still though, you wondered if you’d be sitting there if Elijah just let you go that day. You wondered how things would’ve turned out if he let himself go, too.

Like he was reading your mind, he suddenly turned to you and whispered, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turned to face him. While he looked serious, he looked more broken than you’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry I brought you back to him that day. I’m just now realizing that I’ve never apologized to you before.” You stared at him silently, and so he continued, looking back to the fire. “You could have been happy, and I took that opportunity away from you. So I am sorry.” He paused, like he was debating on saying something, a glazed look in his eyes as he lightly muttered, “More sorry than you’ll ever know.”

For what felt like forever but was really just a minute, you didn’t say anything. You, too, turned back to the fire, biting your lip as you tried to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think… I think, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.” You saw him turn back to you out of the corner of your eye, but you didn’t look back. You didn’t know if you could say this while looking at him. “I think it would’ve ended up like this, anyway. I was his wife, not his keeper, but that didn’t matter. My love for him would’ve always made me stay and look after him, even though it kills me inside, even though I think I died a long time ago.” You swallowed. “My mother used to tell me to watch how boys treat me, but Nik wasn’t just any boy. I was so enthralled by the beauty of the fire that I didn’t care if I’d get burned- God, I just wanted to feel warm.” Unknowingly, a tear fell down your cheek. At that moment, you turned to your brother to see him watching you intently. You shook your head, giving him a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault, Elijah, it was mine. I should’ve known better.”

At that, you got up, leaving the bottle with Elijah, and you walked back to your room. You didn’t sleep that night, but when Hope came running into your room in the morning, screaming that Santa came, you pretended to be asleep so that she could wake you.

You sat through the opening of presents, Elijah looking at you differently than before. And you’d sit through multiple Christmases after this one.

No matter how much it hurt you or how it unhealthy it was, you knew you were locked in now, and you threw away the key ages ago. You couldn’t get off this ride, not even if you tried to. 

Maybe, if you didn’t let Klaus pull you back in time and time again, then you wouldn’t be stuck. But you did, and now all you could do was just sit and let the roller coaster run its course, no matter how sick it made you or how many tears would leave your eyes when no one was watching.

Now, you’d be here always and forever. But you still couldn’t help but think-

You should’ve known better.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade

#klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #tvdu #tvd #the originals #the vampire diaries #angst #angsty imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson fanfic #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #tvd x reader #the originals x reader #always and forever #the mikaelsons #mikaelsons x reader #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikealson x reader #kol mikealson x reader #marcel gerard x reader #hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #marcel gerard #hayley marshall

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Buddy Daddies x Delinquent Teen Reader (1)

You’re home was on the streets 

Practically abandoned by your parents, you relied on one of the local gangs for your family

Working to join them for some semblance of protection against the world

And as it would happen it helped 

Despite your teachers and guardian-having friends warning otherwise

Thanks to them you were eating

A far cry from what you were left to before

But past aside your doing well 

Gaining experience and becoming more of an asset to the gang before your saddled with an unlikely obstacle

“Hi there! My name’s Miri, what’s your name?”

Suddenly this bubbly smiley kid is following you around

Somehow finding you in dark alleyways and shadows of buildings 

This kid just won’t leave you alone 

No matter how much you reprimand, sneer, or blatantly insult this kid 

“Kid! Didn’t I tell you to kick rocks? Now if you don’t leave I’ll steal your shoes.”

“W-what, don’t take my shoes my papas got them for me!”

“Then. Leave. Me. Alone.”

she just won’t leave you alone and it all comes to a head when she approaches you when your with your friends

“Well well look at this little tyke!”

“Oh my gosh, they're so small! (Y/n) I didn’t know you had a baby sister!”

“I don’t.”

“Yeah! My name’s Miri.”

And despite your protests they all invite pressure Miri to join you all on a…midnight stroll

Along a train track

It goes as expected and your crew successfully go along the train track until you hear the dreaded sound of the train

And as it would have it Miri’s shoes get caught

“Is everyone off the tracks?”

“Whooo that was close!”

“Where’s Miri?”

Your group resigns to stand by and watch horrified as she struggles with the track and the oncoming train approaches 

Way too close to the train you’re able to yank Miri from the tracks narrowly missing the train hurling by

“Whoa that was clo–”

“See what happens?”

“What? What are you talk–”

“See what happens when you hang around me?!”

“W-what but I love be–”

“You! Almost died! Can’t you see?! You don’t belong here so GO! Go home before you really get hurt.”

She goes home that day with tears in her eyes

While you wordlessly turn back to your group to head back to base

hoping that you don’t see her ever again

For awhile you don’t and things are back to normal

And while you’re spray painting the gang’s sign on a wall a burly woman knocks you to the ground

“Hey watch it, punk!”

“You wanna go pipsqueak!”

Apparently she was from a rival gang, looking to contest this area

Sending a quick call to your team, you prepare to fight this lady 

Narrowly ducking her first punch 

You throw your own 

Standing victorious as she buckles 

But you too would fall to your knees

after a whopping hit in the back of your head

It was an ambush 

And easily you found yourself at their mercy 

Only being released when you hear the separate thuds and the released grip from your arms

“What the–ooomf!”

Your original attacker is silenced by a guy with blonde hair 

Who punches them into a headlock before pulling a gun with silencer

“H-hey-”

Before you could stop him he pulled the trigger, nonchalantly reaching to the sky in a stretch

“Ah man after so long it seems I’ve still got it!” 

You shakily stand holding your arm that stings in pain

You try to limp away while he continues flexing 

But he notices

“Ah ah! (Y/n) don’t run away!”

You sneered, “How do you know my name?”

“Uh…not important. But look, you need to come home with me! Miri misses-”

“Ugh are you Miri’s daddy or something?”

“Papa actually–” “Look old man, what I said to your kid is true. She needs to stay far away from me and you know what? Maybe you should try watching her better.”

“We did. And we were.”

The tired voice was right above you 

Close enough to your back that you could now register the warmth teeming off them

You jump, despite the pain you back away against the brick wall

The man that spoke had black hair pulled back to reveal a pale guy with a grave look on his face

“Ah-! What he means is: we’ve been watching after you and Mirin. And we’ve decided that we’re going to be the papas you need!”

“What?!”

“Ahem we’ve decided–” “You're coming with us.”

“What?! Huh?!”

“Rei! You can’t just say that they're not going to understand!” 

“They’ll understand better when we get them home.”

“No no but there’s a method for these things and with someone of their age–”

The blonde kept talking to the one identified as Rei seemingly dividing their attention

You took the chance to limp as far as you could away reaching into your pocket to retrieve your last line of defense

“That’s enough of that.”

In a flash of black your pocket knife was out of your hand

Briefly squealing in pain at the pressure point being hit near your neck

Slumping into Rei’s arms he moved to cradle you rolling his eyes at Kazuki’s musings

“Rei!? They obviously weren’t ready!”

“They would’ve never been ready.”

“But we did the whole save-them-be-the-saviors-routine!” 

“Does it really matter now that we have them?”

“...Mmmm….Mmmmm!...I still would’ve preferred my way.”

The sounds of tires screeching and the sound of modded engines coming to halt

Had them both perking up

“Oh! Those bad influences actually came!”

“That was unexpected. The broken brakes should have kept them busy.”

“Now here’s the question: do we handle them now or later?”

“Did you throw your back out yet?”

“Hah! Not yet, yours?”

“...”

“Then I say we give ‘em a show!”

When you next awake 

You’re in a well furnished room

All patched up and nursing a sling for your arm

Immediately you get up finding yourself at the top of the stairs before you spotted them

“Hiii (Y/n)!!!” “Ah, good morning (Y/n) did you sleep well?”

There words don’t reach you as you register the blonde man from before and the little girl who’d been following you around

Why were they acting so calm?

They kidnapped you!

And the little girl was in on it too?

“Welp, we're heading out for preschool.”

 “Yup bye (Y/n) later I can’t wait to cele–mmmf!”

The blonde’s hand goes over her mouth sending her to get her shoes before waving to you

“I’ll be back soon! Breakfast is on the counter!” 

Not long after they disappeared from sight you heard the slam of the door

Good now you can–

“Going to have breakfeast?”

Once again that voice rang from behind you

Turning to see the same man with the grave face but this time with scruffier-relaxed look to him

His eyes were still intense and they held you in place all the way to the kitchen 

While eating some regretfully delicious french toast with Rei watching diligently 

Guess this was your life now…the newest unwilling addition to the family

#yandere buddy daddys #yandere rei suwa #yandere buddy daddies #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere buddy daddies x teen delinquent reader #yandere kazuki kurusu #yandere harem #yandere family

[anatay004]

ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ | ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ (+ 18)

ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ’ꜱ ᴡᴇᴅᴅɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴀɴɴᴏᴜɴᴄᴇᴅ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜɴ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪᴍ, ɪɴ ʜᴏᴘᴇꜱ ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡɪꜰᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴀꜱ ʜɪꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ, ʜᴇ ʀᴇꜰᴜꜱᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ.

manipulation, obsession, jealousy, dub-con, and smut.

ʜᴇ'ꜱ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʙᴜʀɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ

YOU WEREN'T AVOIDING HIM.

Or, at least, that's what you liked to tell yourself. You were simply taking a step back from him, allowing yourself to escape from his searing touch, his scarring lips, and poisoned vows. You were stepping out of the picture, allowing him a moment to relish his wife, to engulf in her presence and take her in. In hopes of diminishing yourself from the recesses of his mind — in hopes she could replace you somehow.

It was your wedding present to him.

After all, you were just his lover. You could never be something more — nor did you wish to be, not after everything that he'd put you through. After you'd won the 12th Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow had made sure to haunt you down. He’d made sure to corner you into his command with thinly-veiled threats, to eliminate any obstacles on his way and take you as his and only his. No matter the consequences.

Like an object.

Like a treasure.

He did everything in his power to have you. To tether himself to the fibers of your skin, to burrow beneath your bones, and settle in. He was like a drug to you — deathly yet addictive, and sometimes you even wondered if you were right in the head. To accept his pleasures, his lips, and his body against yours — even though you didn't have much of a choice most of the time.

You hated him.

For taking away the remnants of humanity that was once inside of you. For haunting your mind during the daytime and behind shut eyelids. For making you his in every way possible.

And yet he went through all of that trouble to marry another woman.

At first, it pestered you — to think you weren't worthy of such a title. To think you weren't worthy of being the First Lady of Panem after all the shit that he'd put you through. But then, you thought of it as an opportunity to escape him. Try to reconnect with your old self and run away from him for as long as you could.

And that's what you did.

When the wedding was announced, you packed your stuff and fugitively came back home to your district. You hadn't seen your family for months, Snow had made sure to isolate you from anyone you ever shared some type of affection with. He hated sharing you. So, he forced you to move to the Capitol with him, despite the funny looks and whispers that ricocheted off the walls.

Everyone, somehow, knew you were his.

And yet, nobody dared to speak of it loudly.

Not even your family.

Afraid it might just sentence them to death (wish you knew, would most likely be the case).

One week elapsed eventually. You heard from him through the news, he'd married Julia Pompey in a matter of days before your departure. It comforted you — to think it was finally over until the roses began to arrive one day. You’d asked your mother to throw them away, to which she didn't object to, she was well aware of the thinly-veiled message behind them.

She was aware of the powerful man that haunted you.

It started with a single rose at first, but by the end of the week, they were bouquets of roses sitting outside your door. There was no letter attached to them, he didn't need to write one — you knew the message perfectly well. He was asking for you to come back to him.

It almost made you sick.

But you tried to dismiss it.

You tried to move on with your life. You busied yourself with banal tasks at home. You helped your mother clean and cook your favorite meals. And, although there wasn't much talking between the two of you, you enjoyed her presence all the same. It was nice to have her gentleness, after the games, loneliness seemed to be the only thing that accompanied you everywhere you go — it made you weaker, easier for Snow to break.

And that's what he did.

He broke you apart just to put you back together.

Until your mother could no longer recognize you. But in fleeting moments like this, when you lingered behind her frame and watched her bake your favorite muffins like a child, she was able to see a few glimpses of the daughter that was once taken away from her.

After all, you weren't completely lost yet.

But you knew it wouldn't last.

You were coming back from the bakery one afternoon when you noticed the sudden shift in the atmosphere inside your home. The house was awfully quiet — the loudest kind of silence you'd ever heard before, and your mother was unexpectedly greeting you at the door. A fake smile curved her lips, it was almost concerning, but before you could open your mouth and ask if something was wrong, a peacemaker stumbled into your line of vision.

"Ms. (Y/LN), please follow me."

Your muscles wracked with tension when the peacemaker beckoned you towards the end of the hall and into the office located at the far end of the house. You offered your mother a faint smile on the way, assuring her that everything was going to be okay — but you knew better.

The door was shut behind you with a quiet thud when you stepped inside the room. You knew he was waiting for you inside. The smell of roses immediately settled into your nostrils and you shivered, the aroma forced its way down your throat until you could almost taste it. He was sitting across from you at the desk, leaning back on the chair as he examined your features very quietly.

When you finally looked up to meet his gaze, the sight of his tousled blonde curls caught you completely off guard. He looked exhausted, dark circles marred his skin like he hadn't slept for days. You'd never seen him like this before.

You disliked it.

"President Snow," You greeted after a moment of silence, relishing the way his jaw visibly clenched at the formality of your words. He hated when you called him anything, but Cory.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He spat through his teeth suddenly. If glares could've killed, you've been six underground by then.

You feigned an innocent look on your face. "I haven't done anything at all."

"You left home," He argued, and the mere sound of the words made your skin prickle with goosebumps. The Capital was not your home — he was not your home, but you didn't dare to blurt that out into the open air. "And you left no fucking letter, no indication of when you were coming back — nothing!"

"I assumed your wife wouldn't like having me around," You responded simply, holding back your breath when his expression darkened completely and a humorous smile itched his lips. "Congratulations on the wedding, by the way."

"Is that what this is about?" He scoffed, pushing back on his chair almost immediately. The wood scuffing against the floor made you wince. "Is that why you left? Because you were jealous?"

Anger retaliated in the pit of your stomach. You were not jealous, on the contrary, you were almost glad he'd someone else to fuck with. Because then — maybe, you could be free from him. And the nightmares could finally go away.

But you didn't say anything.

Afraid that you might just say that.

He didn't mind that, instead, he took a few deliberate steps closer to you. Instinctively, you fell back a few steps, until your back was pressing against the wall and there was nowhere to run.

"Do you want to know why I married her?" He questioned as his voice notched down a few decibels. He was standing close — too close, his face was merely inches away from touching yours. You could feel his warm breath pressing against your skin as he spoke. "Because I hate her. Because she means nothing to me."

You stilled for a moment, reeling over his words. For some reason, the logic behind his marriage didn't surprise you as much as it should've. Coriolanus Snow was a tactful man, you knew him like the palm of your hand — he didn't act before having a plan. So, you shrewdly assumed, that marrying Julia Pompey was just one of his ways of securing immunity to threats.

His enemies couldn't hurt him if they killed her — or their future children. Because he didn't love or care enough for her. Not one bit.

"Do you know what I did on my wedding night?" He added, voice sliding evenly into your thoughts. His hand carefully raised to touch your face, to stroke the skin of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "Do you know who I thought of when I dismissed her and locked myself in our room?"

You clenched your jaw as you registered his words, not wanting to listen any further.

His thumb pressed against your bottom lip. "When I took my pants off and jerked all night off until I was numbed?"

You turned your head away, but he gripped his hand around your cheeks to keep you in place. You threw him a look, but he dismissed it with little care. He wanted you to look into his eyes.

"Guess who I thought of?"

You didn’t answer.

“Guess who kept me going?” His hands dropped to tighten around your throat.

“Stop it, Coriolanus,” You hissed, pressing the palm of your hand against his chest harshly.

He didn’t falter.

“You know she could never replace you,” He continued, as if was the most obvious thing in the world. “She could walk around naked and I would much rather turn to look at the filthy floor. She means absolutely nothing to me.” He repeated, and — for some reason, you were certain he was telling the truth.

And it suddenly dawned on you that — no matter how far you ran, no matter how fast you did; you would never actually escape him. And the daunting realization peppered visible goosebumps over your skin again.

“I know.” You limited yourself to answer.

“So, why the fuck are you avoiding me?” He snapped, eyes suddenly turning obscure as he waited for an answer. “Are you punishing me?”

I wish I was, you thought to yourself.

“Of course not.”

“Then why the fuck are you running away from you?” He hissed, examining your face carefully before an amused smile itched his lips “As if you could ever escape me, sweetheart.”

You glared at him.

He didn’t deign to give you a response.

Instead, he pressed his lips against yours — obliterating any sudden rationality or lucid thought that you could’ve had in mind at that moment. You found yourself shutting your eyes when his tongue swept past your lips and delved hot inside your mouth. He was desperate and frantic — he’d missed you. You didn’t fight it, because, at the end of the day, you knew it would be pointless. You knew you would be right back in the same game — run and being chased.

And he would catch you every damn time.

Despite how much you hated it.

“Come back home.” He commanded, his voice dangerously low as he leaned back to catch his breath. His hands were sliding under your shirt, tracing arbitrary patterns over your stomach before his hands raised to make their way up to your warm chest.

“Cory — ” You protested when he buried his head in your neck and began to kiss your skin like there was no tomorrow. You could hear voices behind the door, and concerned whispers from your family as they tried to piece together what was happening behind those closed doors.

Would he kill you?

Would he kill them?

You almost wanted to laugh at that. You wish he could just kill you right there and then.

If they only knew.

“We can’t — ” You tried again, but his lips met yours with such fervor that you couldn’t even finish your sentence. Within a blink of an eye, he slid an arm behind your waist and carried you up to throw you over the desk behind him. You tried to protest again, but it only seemed to incite him even more as he racked up your skirt.

“Say you’ll come back home.” He commanded, his voice rasping as he pulled his pants down. You didn’t answer, instead, you parted your legs and took him in like you’d always done. He slid in and out with slow thrusts and you almost hated the gentleness of his moves. A moan silently slipped out your mouth when he touched every right spot — until your toes were curling, and an orgasm was washing over you.

You hated how well he knew you.

You hated that the only thing you could do was hold back the tears.

When he finished, he collapsed on top of you. Face buried inside your neck as he waited for the response he knew you would never deny him.

“I’ll come back home.”

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #peeta mellark x reader #coriolanus x you #fanfic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #president snow #dark fanfiction #dark! Coriolanus Snow

[arisuworld]

HOW TO PERSIST?

So, now we all know how self concept is one of the most important key to manifestation. How you view yourself in relation to the world around you is extremely important and can greatly affect how you manifest. However, persistence is another key to manifestation that often gets overlooked. It is as important as self concept.

Now, I know why it can be hard. At some point of my life, i couldn't persist no matter what. It was hard for me. 3D and circumstances made it hard for me to persist. However, Manifesting in general is very easy but it does require a certain amount of discipline and mental work. It truly gets difficult for most people, when an unfavorable circumstance happens in 3D. Everything seems to be going well but then all of a sudden everything starts falling and you start seeing the opposite of your desires. Then circumstances and everything going on around you, makes you question, doubt yourself and even start spiraling, not knowing what to do. 

Everyone has been in this kind of situation and they don't know what to do. So, now I'm gonna tell you what you should do when you're in this situation, no matter what the circumstances are.

• WHAT DOES PERSISTING MEANS?

per·sist  /pərˈsist/ verb

continue firmly or obstinately in an opinion or a course of action in spite of difficulty, opposition, or failure.

Basically, persisting means to continue to dwell in the new assumptions despite the difficulties or obstacles that may come in the way.  

• WHY IS IT SO IMPORTANT?

"An assumption, though false, if persisted in will harden into fact" — Neville Goddard

No matter how crazy your assumption sounds, no matter how delusional you sound, if you PERSIST into it, it will harden into fact. The 3D will always conform it in front of your eyes.

• IS BEING PERSISTENT AND CONSISTENT SAME?

People often confuse persistence with consistently. Affirming 24/7 till they pass out or their head hurts which is so wrong. Persisting isn’t affirming, it's knowing that your desire is inevitable. You feel safe and secure knowing THAT CREATION IS FINISHED. The moment you’ve finished your visualisation, affirmations, SATs or have just simply stated that your desire is yours, then your desire has already been completed. Your “job” is to just continue KNOWING that it’s yours, which is basically PERSISTING.

• HOW TO PERSIST?

Persisting means to live in the end, to completely live in your imagination (4D) and to ignore any unfavorable circumstances that the 3D may throw at you. Live in your imagination as it is the ONLY true reality that matters to you. When you see something you don't like in the 3D, turn inwards to your imagination and live within.

1. TAKE A BREAK: The main cause of a spiral is usually a result of seeing something unfavorable in the 3D and becoming overwhelmed. You feel like doing something to change the situation, to make it better somehow. Therefore you panic and try different techniques, methods at a time to fix the circumstances. However doing this will not help you fix anything. It will only manifest the opposite. No, let me ask you something. If you had your desire, would any difficult circumstance trouble you? Would it affect you negatively? No right?. All you're doing is interfering with your manifestations. Instead of trying to make it happen, you just have to let it happen. So, i would recommend you to take a break from ALL manifesting-related things for a few days for a week. Like delete tumblr, instagram, unsubscribe from LOA youtube channels. In this time period, i suggest you to do meditation, yoga nidra and journal out your feelings. Let yourself feel any emotions and vent out whatever’s bothering you. Don’t keep it all bottled up. Let it out for once and all.

2. DON'T SEEK VALIDATION FROM 3D: When you’re truly in the state of KNOWING (you already have your desires), you will be much less likely to spiral. Why? well, as i stated in the first point, we spiral primarily because we experience something unfavorable in the 3D. But when we’re in the state of knowing, we KNOW that the 3D is temporary and that our desires ARE COMING, no matter what, it’s inevitable. No matter what happens, your desires are already yours, is all you need to understand.

3. IMPROVE YOUR SELF CONCEPT: Self concept is the only thing you need to manifest. If your self concept is good then nothing can stop you from getting your desires. Now, after you feel like you’ve taken enough time “off” from manifesting consciously, now you can start easing back in. I recommend you to do a mental diet. It's easy, simple and so effective. All you have to do is be conscious of your thoughts, and flip your negative thoughts to positive. Whenever you get a negative thought related to your manifestation, just flip it around and be like "no, i already have my desire". That's it's, it's that easy.

• CONCLUSION

Persistence can be very hard sometimes but it is extremely important in order to manifest your desires! The best thing to do is to remember that you're the god and remind yourself that circumstances do not matter. Always, remain faithful to your new assumptions and don't let outer circumstances rattle you. Circumstances are temporary, they change in seconds. And, You are the god of your reality and everything has to go your way, no matter what! Never give up. Always persist, persist and persist. The 3D will always conform in front of your eyes.

#manifestation #manifestation blog #void state #loa blog #law of assumption #loassumption #loa #void #manifesting #manifesation #i am state

[craisinsensation1029]

Not Like It Matters

Kento Nanami

originally posted on AO3! :3 it was the first Nanami one shot I wrote :)

You just moved and your new next door neighbor, Nanami, is extremely easy on the eyes. He’s a bit older and grumpy, but sweet, always bringing you food and keeping you up to date with your other neighbors' business. Then there are the offers; bringing up heavy groceries, building furniture, movie nights… and using his pool, whether or not he’s home. You always politely decline visiting without him there, feeling it would be too invasive. However, an unbearably hot day and a broken AC changes things one day.

fem reader, neighbor!Nanami, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female/male receiving), alcohol consumption, provocative dancing, slight age gap, inappropriate use of whipped cream, praise, degradation, nipple licking, some sexual tension, making out

9.7k

MDNI

You huffed as you carried another box from the moving truck to the steps of your newly purchased bungalow. You didn’t remember owning all this shit in the tiny apartment you moved from. Lucky for you, your new place was single story, so there would be no diabolical stairs as another obstacle in getting your shit inside.

You walked back to the truck, grabbing another box of many to be unloaded, practically throwing it with the other ones on the steps. You admittedly were exhausted, and figured you would continue to tackle the rest of the boxes tomorrow.

You dug your keys out of the back pockets of your denim shorts, unlocking the door and kicking the box nearest to it inside. You proceeded to do the same with some of the other nearby boxes when you saw a figure exiting from the neighboring house on the right.

Their house was a little larger than yours, with a well taken care of lawn. Their home had a second story, with a large balcony on the second floor. A plethora of pink, purple, and yellow flowers decorated the area. Your eyes couldn't help but wait for the figure to come into focus to get a better look at them.

It was a tall man with blonde hair. He wore a black V-neck and running shorts, showing off toned arms and legs. He seemed to have sensed you staring because he turned and looked in your direction. It was a bit difficult to make out the exact expression on his face, but he started cutting across his lawn and walking in your direction.

Your limbs seemed to lock up as his long legs made quick strides to close the distance between the two of you. You started praying to every higher power imaginable that you did not somehow piss this man off.

As he made the final step to get to your lawn, more of his features came into focus. An ornate watch adorned his wrist, and you couldn’t help but take a look at his hands. They were large with slender fingers that appeared to be well manicured. Trailing up to his face, it was void of facial hair, but that only exaggerated his defined cheekbones. He had somewhat of a button nose, and warm, brown eyes.

He looked to be about ten years older than you, give or take. Not old enough to be your father, though.

Not that it mattered or anything.

He extended a hand to you, a ghost of a smile dancing across his lips. “Finally, my new neighbor has arrived. Kento Nanami, pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, nice to meet you too.” You shook his hand, and his grip was firm; the man nearly used the opportunity of this greeting to yank your fucking arm off. You introduced yourself, and looked down at all the boxes littering your front steps. “Heh, just…ignore that.”

“That would be pretty difficult,” he answered, raising an eyebrow. “I heard you groaning and huffing from inside. May I offer you some help?”

You felt the color drain from your face at his admission.

Okay, so maybe you didn’t have the best stamina for physical activity such as moving shit, but he didn’t need to point that out.

“What? You're saying you’re some big, strong man that has to come to my rescue by moving my stuff?” You crossed your arms over your chest, challenging him by raising your brow as well.

He wasn’t taken aback by your response at all. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but shut it. Instead, you walked back over to the truck, opening up the back to show him the remaining boxes. You reached to grab a box, but his hand landed on your wrist. His hand practically dwarfed and encompassed your whole wrist, and the rough skin against yours was oddly… calming.

“I got it, sweetheart,” he assured, easily stacking two boxes on top of each other. “Just let me know where you want me to put everything down, okay?”

Being the genius that you were in the haste to leave your old place, none of the boxes were labeled except for one citing fragile . “Anywhere inside, really. It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. ”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head, starting the process of moving the remaining boxes from the truck to your home. 

After about half an hour, the back of the truck was bare. You tried to hide your shit eating grin, but to no avail. “So Kento, you big, strong man,” you teased, faking innocence by placing your hands behind your back, “You move things pretty well, what else are you capable of?” 

A light sheen of sweat glistened against his forehead, and he wiped it using the bottom of his shirt. His exposed happy trail was golden, and you averted your eyes anywhere else, knowing your staring would be too obvious. Now, the only thing on your mind was what he looked like shirtless.

He chuckled again, a short but deep chuckle. “In the grand scheme of things, I am capable of a lot, I suppose.”

“Pfft,” you grunted, rolling your eyes.

“Well since specificity is what you seem to be looking for,” he began, his voice lowering just the slightest bit, “I would say I cook quite well, are you hungry?”

Your stomach audibly growled before your words could deceive you, and you nodded sheepishly.

“Eating before engaging in anything physical is important, sweetheart. I hope you know that.” Again, you opened your mouth to say something, but his hand was on the small of your back guiding you toward his home before you could respond. “Come on, I was marinating some steak for carne asada. Won’t take too long to prepare.” 

You couldn’t even lie, that sounded great.

Once the two of you made the short walk across the grass, he opened his door and you immediately craned your neck inside to see what his place looked like. You already had an idea in your head from seeing his manicured hands; Minimalist with chrome appliances and white furniture. 

Needless to say, you weren’t completely wrong. From the view of the foyer were bay windows converted into french doors which overlooked a large deck and pool. On the deck was a grill and a few lounging chairs. The living room had gray, felt couches with probably the biggest fucking televison mounted to the wall you had ever seen in your life.

Like seriously, did he steal that from a movie theater or something?

The appliances in the kitchen were all stainless steel, and his fridge had one of those screens on it for crying out loud. Some art hung along the walls and more plants were in various places around the space. It was neat, tidy, and smelled like lemon and lavender. You could only imagine upstairs looked the same.

You turned to look at him, pointing at the television. “How big is that TV?”

“Large enough for me to enjoy whatever I’m watching.”

“Right,” you scoffed. “What are you, rich?”

He seemed to ponder your question for a moment. “I’m fortunate to live comfortably with all my needs met.”

“You get that question a lot? That answer sounds rehearsed.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. His hand was on the small of your back again, guiding you toward the deck outside. Your gaze couldn’t help but land on the clear, blue water of the pool. Some inflatables were lazily bobbing on the water’s surface.

“Must be nice having a pool,” you murmured.

“You’re welcome to use it anytime you’d like.”

You beamed, clasping your hands. “Really? I can swim in your pool?”

“I’m unsure what else you would do in a pool,” he deadpanned. “I will ask you to limit your activities in the pool to just that, but yes. Even if I’m not here you just have to unhook the latch to the fence.” He pointed to the direction of the fence in question. It looked like it was right next to your backyard.

You put your hands up sheepishly. “Oh no, I couldn’t come when you aren’t home.”

“Of course you can, I just said so.” Before you could say anything, he turned to go back inside. “I’m going to grab the meat to throw on the grill. There's a mini fridge right there if you’re thirsty. Sit, relax.”

You nodded although he was already gone, and grabbed a mango whiteclaw from the fridge, plopping down in one of the chairs. It was comfy, and there was a comfortable breeze in the summer air. 

Hot, rich neighbor that cooks and has a pool? I’m going to like it here .

Your mind still lingered on the prospect of using the pool when he wasn’t home. You couldn’t do that. That must be crossing some kind of line. But was it really if he was the one encouraging it?

The sound of the doors opening pulled you out of your thoughts as he reemerged with the meat and some vegetables. He fired up the grill, and started preparing everything.

Once done, he made your plate which he served with some rice, pico de gallo, and chimichurri sauce. You practically moaned at the first bite. The steak was so tender in your mouth, and the flavors were absolutely perfect. “Kento, you’re spoiling me here, you know?”

“What? No one has ever given you food before?”

“Oh, shut up!” You shoved another piece of steak in your mouth, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head. You waited to swallow that bite before asking, “What about that TV? Can I come over sometime and watch that too?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Have fun trying to get rid of me now,” you replied, relishing in another bite of the food.

“As long as you don’t turn into a gremlin after midnight, I’m sure there will be no need to get rid of you.”

You don’t know why that made you flush. 

As the sun went down, the two of you sat on the back deck talking. You spoke about your career, and how the salary jump from your new job allowed you to purchase the home next to his. In return he spoke about his career as well. He’s the CEO of a non-profit that helps people facing food and housing insecurity in the area. In addition to that, he’s an adjunct professor who teaches English at a few local community colleges every other semester.

Good to know this money of his came from actual work rather than some generational wealth.

Not like it mattered.

The two of you also spoke a little of family, political views, and hobbies amongst other things. He even told you about some of the neighbors like an eccentric white haired man and his partner, though he seemed to mention them with a grimace. Speaking to him was easy.

“So let me make sure I understand this correctly.” By now the sun was setting into a pink sky, and small lights began to illuminate his backyard. “You have all this wealth and knowledge, you give back to communities and shit, but you’re single? Like, how are you not married?”

He shrugged.

“Did you… I don't know… ”

“Did I what?” he questioned. “Kill my wife and use her insurance policy to live the life I’m living now?”

You put your hands up in defense. “Hey, the words came out of your mouth. Not mine.”

He was in his lounge chair across from you, and scooted it slightly so both of your knees were touching. “You know if I said yes, you’d be next, right?”

By now you had drunk about three white claws, and he probably did the same. You were comfortably buzzed. “I’ll have you know I don't have an insurance policy. There would be no benefit.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he drawled. “If I hypothetically confessed a murder to you, there’s not a chance I’d let you live.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was an attraction forming, but his words made you shudder. 

You opted to just blame it on the alcohol.

“Remind me not to ask you of any murders you may or may not have committed.”

“You got a deal,” he replied. “I wouldn’t want to murder you anyway.”

This time, you felt the need to clench your thighs.

Yeah, definitely the alcohol and definitely time to go.

“On that note,” you said, rising from your seat. When was the last time you stood? You wobbled, and he quickly stood, grabbing your elbow to ensure you wouldn’t fall.

“Ready to go home?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty late,” you yawned, squinting your eyes to look at the time on your phone. It was nearly four in the morning. Where did the time even go? You had a fuck ton of unpacking to do tomorrow. “Thank you again for dinner. And for saying I can use your pool. And for the drinks. An-”

“You’re welcome,” he cut you off. “Now come on, let’s get you home.”

“Kento, I live a skip and a hop away. I think I can manage.”

His eyes narrowed. “Sweetheart, you’re not even sober. You’re insane if you think I would let you walk out my door alone.”

You bit your lip and nodded, looping your elbow through the one offered to you as you made the quick journey back to your house. 

Before you could say anything, he unlocked elbows and grabbed the palm of your hand. “May I?”

You had no idea what was happening, but nodded anyway. 

He pressed a soft kiss to the skin on the front of your hand. “Goodnight. Sleep well, sweetheart.”

“You too,” you breathed, closing the door and locking it behind you.

You slid down the back of the door, feeling like some kind of teenager with the way that hand kiss made you squeal. Perhaps Nanami and alcohol weren’t a good mix. 

Over the next few days you successfully unpacked everything in the boxes. The only thing left was some more furniture getting delivered today. You’d been sleeping on your futon as you waited for your bedroom set to arrive. 

Want to come over for dinner tonight? Chicken parm is on the menu.

You and Nanami exchanged phone numbers the day after your first meeting, and you two would exchange a few messages everyday. Nothing of major significance, but then again, food was important.

Waiting for furniture to get delivered today. Might be up all night trying to assemble it, wish me luck :( 

His reply came in before you even set your phone down, I can do that for you. Let me know when the truck gets here.

You knew there was no arguing him down about it. My hero, thank you so much &lt;3

Don't mention it, sweetheart.

Normally, you would cringe at any man who dared to call you a pet name without permission, but this was different. He was different. You smiled at the message while taking care of a few things around the house waiting for the delivery.

Some hours later with music blaring from your speaker, your doorbell rang. “Coming!” you yelled, turning down the music slightly. You looked through the peephole, taken aback to see Nanami on the other side. You opened the door, “Kento? You’re early.”

“Why yes, hello to you too,” he grunted. You couldn’t help but laugh at how grumpy he could be sometimes.

“Did you miss me?” you teased. “You were just dying to see me, huh?”

“It’s always a pleasure to see you, sweetheart,” he answered. “But if you must know the reason I’m so early…” his voice trailed off as he pointed to the UPS truck that was making its way down the block. “I got back a few minutes ago when the truck was still on the other side of the block. Figured I’d just come now, save you some trouble.”

And there it was, the duality of him. Something about him being so grumpy, yet performing acts of service… yeah, you didn’t have words for it. 

DILF energy, maybe

DILF energy without kids, at that.

Not that it mattered.

“Thank you,” you smiled warmly. The truck was chugging along, and stopped outside of your house. You jogged out to meet the driver to sign for it with Nanami right behind you.

After you signed, he assisted the delivery man to bring the large boxes containing your bed frame, headboard, mattress, dresser, and night stand inside. Once he was settled in your soon to be furnished bedroom, he stared at you with his hands on his hips.

“What?” you questioned.

“I didn’t plan on putting these things together with my hands.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers. “Do you have a toolbox?”

Uh, didn’t the tools come in the box? You went into your bathroom and returned with a hammer and screwdrivers. “Does this work?”

His lips formed a flat line as he brushed your shoulder on the way to exit the room. “Going to grab mine real quick.”

He returned moments later with his toolbox, and a drill. He used a switch blade to open up boxes and soon the pieces were scattered all around him. He took one look at the instructions and seemed to understand what they said and got to work.

Today he wore a gray shirt with straight blue jeans, and you watched the way his muscles flexed as he moved pieces around and placed some more of them together. You should probably do more than just stand around and ogle him. 

“Oh, um…” you began, walking around so you were in his view. “Anything I can do to help? I can…” your voice trailed off as you looked at the instructions. What the actual fuck. “I can like, hand you the stuff.”

“The stuff?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You know!” You waved your arms to gesture to the pieces laying around.

An easy laugh left his lips as he shook his head. “How about you just sit over there and look pretty? I always like working with a view.”

Was he flirting with you? You genuinely hoped that he was. Hoping your face wasn’t too flushed, you nodded and sank into your beanbag chair in the corner of the room.

“Is this view to your liking, Mr. Nanami?” you teased.

His eyes roamed over you and then gave you an approving nod. “Perfect.”

You blushed and giggled and squealed and kicked your feet internally, but gave him a polite smile externally.

Over the next few hours, you two had conversations about pretty much everything and nothing and before you knew it, all the furniture was built. He was dragging the mattress on the bed to finish off his work.

“Thank you again so much, Kento,” you smiled, surveying your now furnished room.

“It’s nothing.” You shot daggers his way. “But yes, you are very welcome, scary lady.”

You slapped his arm. “I am not scary!”

“Debatable.” He rubbed his arm, faking pain. “Despite your abusive nature, you are still welcome to have dinner with me. I just have to put the chicken in the oven.”

“Of course!” You decided to ignore the abusive comment, because he obviously loved it. “Oh! Can we watch a movie tonight in your movie theater?”

“You and this TV,” he muttered, hand on the small of your back as you two crossed your lawn.

You sat in the kitchen, again making conversation while he finished preparing dinner. He set up two dinner folding trays, placed your plates down, and dropped the remote in your lap.

“What should we watch?” You were already scrolling through the streaming apps he had.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” You looked over at him, trying to see if there was any hint of flirting at all, but nothing gave it away. He was already engrossed in his meal. You guessed he genuinely was just a nice guy.

You settled for a comedy and paused it once you two were done eating so he could take the dishes and wash them quickly. When he returned, you resumed the movie.

You both decided to watch another movie, an action one this time. He turned off the lights and put the surround sound on to give you that real cinematic experience. At some point during the second movie, he wrapped his arm around you letting his fingers drum against your shoulder. You silently snuggled into him, glad your sigh of content was hidden by the volume.

At the conclusion of the second movie you stood to stretch, your eyes landing on the pool through the french doors. You almost wished you asked to go for a swim instead of watching a second movie, but then you wouldn’t have been able to cuddle into his side.

He must have noticed where your gaze was since he asked, “Late night swim?”

You nodded eagerly, practically bolting through the doors and into the backyard. He followed closely behind, hitting a switch to turn on the pool lights. The blue water was quickly illuminated with small purple and pink lights. “We could walk over to your place and-”

He cut himself as you pulled the tank top you were wearing over your head. You threw it on one of the deck chairs and undid the button on your denim skirt, shimmying out of the garment. You were left in a purple bra, and lacy black panties.

You dipped your foot into the edge of the pool, getting a feel for the temperature. It was just right. You used the steps to step into the pool, wading through the water until you were in the middle of it. You decided to float on your back, closing your eyes to enjoy the calmness of the water. When you opened them, the sky was filled with stars. You would never get that view at your old place.

“Was going to say we could walk over and get your swimsuit, but I guess this also works,” Nanami’s voice called out to you.

You opted to stop floating, and swam over to where he was standing at the edge of the pool where you entered. “You’re not going to join me?” you asked, an exaggerated pout on your lips.

He seemed to contemplate your request. “You sure?”

You gestured to the large expanse of water. “I promise there’s enough room for both of us here. This isn’t a bathtub.”

“Two people can easily fit in the tub I have upstairs.”

“Good to know.” You rolled your eyes.

“As long as you’re sure,” he murmured as he started undoing the button on his jeans. You don't know why you were so mesmerized by the action. Your eyes followed the movement as he pushed them down his toned legs. Next was his shirt, which made you bite your lip in anticipation.

You literally were wondering what he looked like shirtless the first day you met the man.

He peeled off his shirt, and needless to say, you had new fap material tonight. He wasn’t grossly muscular to the point where it seemed like he had steroids with every meal, but he was built, sturdy. Abs indented his frame, and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at his V-cut and his happy trail. 

You wanted to rub your hands down on them, desperately.

You didn’t look down any further afraid you might actually cream yourself if you ogled his body any further. 

He began descending down the steps to enter the pool, and suddenly you were nervous. You didn’t know why.

You swam back out toward the middle of the pool and he followed closely behind. 

Maybe you didn’t think this through asking him to join you; Or maybe you should have had a drink or two prior to getting in the pool. “The stars look amazing tonight,” you blurted out, pointing a finger toward the sky.

He craned his neck to look up at them. “They do.”

The sounds of leaves rustling in the slight breeze and crickets filled the air as you two bobbed in the water. Your mind couldn’t help but wander about the man next to you. Were you reading too much into it? Was there a mutual interest here, or have you just encountered really shitty people?

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he asked, voice intruding on your thoughts. “Don’t think I’ve seen you this quiet before.”

You turned to face him, appreciating how the water made his body glisten. “Nothing much,” you answered slowly.

“So there is something then.” He put a hand on your forearm, his thumb making small circles on your skin. “You are always welcome to talk to me. I won’t push it, I just want you to know.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled. You wished you could lean more into his touch, it wasn’t nearly enough. “I’m just thinking about how I’m glad to have you as my neighbor, that’s all.”

For the first time in the short span of time you’ve known him, he smiled. An actual smile. Not one of those little half smirks, or stifled smiles, but a gentle one to show he appreciated your words.

“Likewise,” he answered. “But I'm sure that’s not the only thing you’re thinking about.”

“It isn’t,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He waded a little closer to you, putting his other hand on your forearm. “Do you want to tell me?”

You didn’t know it was possible, but you felt both solid and liquid at the same time. If his arms weren’t there to support you, you may have even forgotten how to swim at that moment.

“Just thinking about your workout routine,” you laughed nervously.

He absolutely knew you were full of shit, but decided to entertain you anyway. “Yeah? What do you want to know about it?” He inched in closer, his thumbs still rubbing circles into your arm.

You tried to steady your breathing, but to no avail. He could see the heavy rising and falling of your chest. “Hm? Ask me anything.”

Your mind went blank. What the fuck did you even say before?

“Oh, um…”

He let out a soft chuckle as one of his hands moved from your forearm to your waist, pulling you against him. You couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips feeling the hard contours of his body pressed against yours. “Okay,” he whispered. “If you don’t want to tell me what’s on your mind, how about you tell me what you want?”

What you wanted… that was easy.

“I want to touch you,” you whispered.

“Do it then,” he answered immediately. “Anywhere you’d like.”

One of your arms instantly snaked around his neck, and your other hand began to slide down the indents of his body. You took your time, letting your fingers run through each ab, and into the creases of his V. Contrasting the rough skin of his hands, the skin here was smooth, and his breath became more ragged with each touch.

The effect of your touch was obvious as your hands dared to trail down further. With black boxer briefs on it was hard to tell if he was at full attention, but he felt thick and long. You rubbed him over the material as he sucked in a breath.

In the blink of an eye, his hands shifted until one was on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, his lips crashing down onto yours. The hand that was trailing his body wrapped around his neck to join the other one, urging your body to be as close to his as possible. 

The kiss was rough. Carnal. Aggressive.

One of his hands moved down to grab the flesh of your ass, his nails digging into your skin. You didn’t care, it was a good kind of hurt.

His tongue was grazing your bottom lip and you parted it slightly so his tongue could slip inside, and sensation made you moan into his mouth. Soon, he was tipping your head back, peppering kisses under your ear and down the expanse of your neck.

“Kento,” you whimpered.

“Hm?” He was still entirely busy kissing your neck before moving back up to your mouth, placing a final, soft kiss against your lips. “Still have anything on your mind?”

Your ass was still in his hands and your arms firmly around his neck as you shook your head no.

Let’s go out tonight. I wanna dance.

It had been about two weeks since the nearly naked makeout session in the pool and admittedly, you were scared.

Scared that Nanami would have seen it as a mistake. Scared that he wouldn’t want to speak to you anymore. Thousands of fears and insecurities flooded your mind after he walked you back home.

Those fears were alleviated the next day when he asked you to come over for dinner and greeted you with a kiss. You two had spent nearly everyday together since then, eating dinner, hanging out at the pool (in actual swimsuits), and having makeout sessions. You even slept over some nights snuggled into his arms. It was a different kind of bliss.

Okay…? No sooner than you received his text, there was a knock at the door. You looked through the peephole for good measure before opening it. You smiled seeing Nanami on the other side in a black tank top and some shorts. “Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted as he pressed a soft kiss against your lips.

“Hi,” you greeted in response, moving aside so he could step inside. 

He settled on your futon, tapping his knee. You settled into his lap, stretching your legs across his other leg. He rubbed your thighs and questioned, “You know we can dance at home, right?”

You rolled your eyes before hitting him on the chest. “Not the same, and you know that.”

“Fine,” he muttered. You somehow always got your way with him, not like he ever put up much of a fight. “What time do you want to go?”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Maybe eight or so? We don’t have to stay out too long.”

He agreed and left shortly after so he could get some work done before tonight, and you did the same.

Some hours later you started getting ready for the night ahead. You wore a black crop top with a plunging neckline, and a stretchy, black mini skirt to match. You swayed your hips in the mirror, just to ensure you could dance the night away. You rushed to apply some boob tape, as your pre-outing dance session resulted in a nipple popping out, couldn’t have that. 

After the girls were secured, you applied your favorite lipgloss and your bell rang at the same time. You opened it after looking through the peephole, and couldn’t seem to help but smile whenever you saw Nanami on the other side. He didn’t look much different, donning a black V neck and blue jeans with some distresses and sneakers, but you loved the simplicity of it nonetheless.

“Ready?” you asked.

While you were ogling him, you didn’t even realize he was doing the same. His eyes jumped between your thighs and your breasts, making you bite your lip. “I just hope you know I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight. Not even for a second.”

You chuckled, shoving your credit card, ID, lipgloss and key into your bra. “And what if I have to use the ladies room, Kento?”

He put his hand on the small of your back to pull you toward him, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, “I guess the most I can do is stand outside and wait then.”

You pressed a quick kiss against his nose as he called an Uber for the two of you.

You had both decided earlier you didn’t really want to go to a club, but there was a lounge not too far away that would have some live music tonight. You almost flew to the bar as Nanami held open the door for you, ordering an amaretto sour for yourself and a whiskey on the rocks for him. 

After some appetizers and two more drinks, you were ready to dance. The DJ was playing an upbeat song, and you dragged Nanami to the dancefloor as a child would drag their parents into the toy aisle.

You immediately positioned him behind you as started moving your hips to the beat of the music. You stretched your arms upwards to wrap them around his neck as you danced, feeling your body get engrossed in the music with every passing second.

Although hesitant in his movements, he started moving with you, the movement of his hips matching yours. His hands moved down the sides of your body, softly caressing your breasts and settling in the dips of your waist. He couldn’t see, but you had the biggest smile on your face dancing with him.

The DJ continued playing banger after banger, and you felt sweat beginning to drip from your body. Glancing around at some of the other people dancing, you didn’t feel bad. Some were practically drenched with sweat.

A slower song began to play, and you slowed your movements, with Nanami matching you yet again. His hands moved down lower, landing on your hips. “You were right. This is better than dancing at home,” he whispered in your ear.

You turned your head to face him, letting out a giggle. He was significantly sweatier than you were. “Seems like you’re having fun. I didn’t even know you danced, Kento. You’re good.”

“I don’t. I’m just insanely good at anything I do,” he answered. He pulled you tighter against him and you stilled as you felt his erection through the thin material of your skirt. “I would say you’re much better at this than me, though.”

On instinct, you grinded against him again, and he let out a small groan in your ear. “Oh I already know I’m better,” you teased. “I can just tell how excited you are.”

He chuckled softly, his hips matching your movement, his clothed cock grinding against your ass. “To have a beautiful woman dancing with me? How could I not be?”

“I just thought you would be embarrassed or something. I thought you were the epitome of modesty.”

“No,” he chuckled, almost darkly in your ear. “I just thought you were a good girl, that’s all.”

“I am,” you whined almost immediately. 

“I know,” he answered, grinding against you again with a firm hand on your hips. “But even good girls can be naughty sometimes, and I have no problem with that.” His lips brushed against your ear with every word he spoke, and his tongue licked the shell of your ear after the final one.

Coming out to dance really was a great idea. 

You two ate some more and had some more drinks, followed by a lot more dancing. In the darker corners of the space, he grabbed your breasts more as you danced. His fingers brushed against your stiffening nipples in your top, and his hands would rub your thighs at random intervals.

So much for not staying out too late, as you two were stumbling out of the lounge at three in the morning. You both crawled into an Uber with him rubbing the flesh of your thighs. “You’re a bad influence, you know that? I have work in the morning.”

“Call out then,” you giggled, which only made him shake his head.

Once at your home, he walked you inside. You were too horny, too sweaty, and too drunk for your own good.

You plopped down on the futon, turning on the AC before you did. Nanami chuckled at the sight of you, throwing a blanket on top of you and ensuring your head was propped up with a pillow. “Good night, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving, locking the door behind him.

You woke up the next morning drenched in a pile of sweat, your head pounding from the night before. You smiled at the memory of the night out with Nanami, his hard cock pressed against you and his hands roaming every part of your body as you danced.

The memory was short lived as your head throbbed again, and you stood slowly. You walked over to the AC, frowning at the sight of it being powered on but refusing to blow out any cool air. “The fuck…” You turned it off and back on again, but nothing. “Ugh!” you groaned.

You looked up a few HVAC companies around, with one of them saying the soonest they could come take a look was in three days, citing a high demand for their services at this time. You groaned again, checking the temperatures for the next few days. It was going to be unbearable.

You opted to take a cold shower and sit on the futon, but it was no use. Even sitting in the nude didn’t help.

Then, a light bulb seemed to glow above your head.

The pool.

You dressed in a lavender drawstring bikini, packing your towel and some sunscreen before going out the back door to get to Nanami’s back yard.

You stared at the latch, biting your lip. You had never taken him up on the offer to visit when he wasn’t home, but he said it was fine, right? You undid the latch, locked it back behind you, and set your bag on one of the pool chairs. 

You made your way inside the pool, feeling relief wash over you as the cool water surrounded your body. You don’t know how long you spent there, but you came out when your fingers were pruny and you were exhausted from swimming. 

You grabbed a white claw from the mini fridge on the deck, cracking it open and taking a sip before setting back onto one of the pool chairs, laying on your back. You remembered there were some snacks, so you went back up and dug around, finding some strawberries and whipped cream. One thing about Nanami, he made a mean strawberry daiquiri. 

You ate the sweet treat and then flipped over on your stomach.

You must have dozed off at some point, because you were awoken to a slap on your ass. You yelped, sitting up to see Nanami with a smirk on his face.

“Glad to see you finally took me up on that offer,” he began. He was shirtless and wearing swim trunks. You guessed he had the same idea as you. “Did you leave your phone at your place?”

“Huh?” You looked in your little bag, and you guessed you did. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I know. I called and texted you,” he began, bringing a chair closer to sit by you. “I had a lot of fun last night, really. We should do that again.”

“Me too,” you breathed, a grin spreading across your face. It started to fade when you remembered why you were here in the first place. “You don’t know how to fix air conditioners, do you?”

He furrowed his brow. “I suppose it couldn’t be too hard after I look up a few things, why?”

“Mine is broken as fuck, I dont even know what happened,” you sighed.

“Oh, so now you’re just using me for my pool is what you’re saying.” He put his hand over his heart. “I thought we had something real here.”

“Shut up!” You threw your bottle of sunscreen at him.

He caught it effortlessly. “I’ll look up some stuff tonight and take a look at it tomorrow. Why don’t you sleep over tonight?”

“If you insist,” you smiled. “While you’re holding that, come put some sunscreen on my back.”

“Yes sweetheart.” He adjusted the legs on the pool chair so it laid flat, and nudged your legs open slightly so he could sit between them, not comfortably, but just enough to get the job done.

He squeezed some of the liquid in his palm, rubbing it in his hands to warm it up. Then, his hands began to massage it into your skin, his hands cascading from your shoulder blades down to the middle of your back, and right above your ass. His hands glided beneath the strings of your bikini as he rubbed your shoulders blades once more, making you arch your back in response.

“You can untie it,” you whispered. Despite some heavy petting and other nights spent together, neither of you have seen the other bare. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” he answered, first pulling the one around your neck and then the one securing it on your back.

He resumed the massage without the barrier, rubbing small circles with his thumb into your spine. You couldn’t help but moan, letting your back arch again at the sensation. “You like that, huh?” he asked softly, repeating the action again. 

He then moved to rub circles into the dimples of your back, and it was a cycle. Shoulder blades, middle of your back, and then the dimples. “All done,” he murmured after some time.

You flipped back over on your back to face him, chest on full display. You both stared at each other for a few moments before motioning for him to come closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought your lips to his. The kiss was gentle as he made his way on top of you, one hand on your hip and the other caressing the side of your face.

His mouth moved from your lips, leaving a trail of kisses as he began to kiss down the slope of your neck, his erection beginning to poke your stomach. You arched up into him, whining as he kissed the area right above your breast.

You both seemed to look up at each other at the same time as you gave him a nod. He instantly sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, shifting one of his hands to knead the other between his thumb and index finger. You moaned immediately as his tongue began to swirl around the nipple in his mouth. He eased up for only a moment, using his other hand to squeeze your breast and swirl his tongue around the nipple before sucking it back into his mouth.

You grabbed his hair, unable to stop the writhing your body was doing under his touch. He switched, now kneading the nipple that was in his mouth, and trailing kissing across your chest and sucking your other nipple into his mouth. This time, he bit your nipple gently before sucking it harder into his mouth, a skilled mouth at that. He knew just when to apply pressure and when to ease off.

He eyed the whipped cream you were eating the strawberries with, and grabbed it quickly, easing off of you entirely.

“Why’d you st-” you stopped talking when he sprayed a neat dollop of the cream on your nipple, diving back down to lick it off of you. “Kento,” you moaned, lewd sounds of him slurping the cream off of you filling the air.

Once he licked you clean, he did the same with the other, his cock growing harder by the second as he licked it clean off of you. He kneaded both of your nipples as he began descending down your body, kissing down your sternum and stomach. One hand utilized the can to spray some whipped cream into your belly button and returned to your nipple once it was on you in a neat dollop. His tongue circled your belly button before diving in deep with the hardpoint to clean it off of you.

“ Fuck ,” you moaned again, looking down at him. Again, your eyes met at the same time as he went lower, feeling yourself quiver when his mouth was at the edge of your bikini. You gave him an affirming nod as he pulled at the strings, discarding the material quickly.

You were already wet, but if you were being honest, you were wet the moment he slapped your ass when he saw you.

He positioned himself on his knees, and grabbed your thighs to bring you to the edge of the chair, your pussy perfectly aligned with his mouth. “Been thinking about doing this for a while, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh.

You bit your lip at the admission. “Me too.”

His eyes darkened, “You are a naughty little thing, aren’t you?”

You had no time to answer as his mouth suddenly sealed around your clit, making you cry out and buck your hips. He placed his arms under your thighs to rest them on his shoulders, his mouth still latched onto your clit in the process.

He eased off your clit and looked at your wetness as if it were a pot of gold on the end of a rainbow. “All for me, huh?” His tongue dragged slowly through your folds, and he moaned against you. He repeated the action again and again, reveling in the taste of you. Each swipe of his tongue elicited moan after moan from you until the pressure building in your belly was undeniable.

You tried to haul yourself up in the chair for a moment of relief from the onslaught of his tongue, but he wasn’t having that. He held you firmly in place and his mouth sealed around your clit again, making you buck your hips against his face. “Kento, please!” you cried out, your hands gripping his hair so hard, you were scared he would need a hair transplant after this.

He moaned against you, dipping down to fuck you with his tongue. That’s when you saw stars, your body going limp as your pussy spasmed around his tongue. He unhooked your legs, crawling back on top of you to kiss you. It was rough and sloppy and you moaned, tasting yourself in his mouth.

He grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. “Turn back around and arch your back for me,” he ordered.

You nodded, scrambling to crawl back up on the chair, arching your back as deep as you could to present your ass for him. You felt him coming behind you, giving one cheek a firm slap before kneading it after. He repeated the same with the other cheek and you let out a moan, your face pressed against the plastic of the chair.

You felt a finger nudging at your entrance, and you pressed against it before he slapped your ass again. “Greedy, aren’t you?” His index finger pushed inside you shallowly and you resisted the urge to push back against it. Another finger joined the first, only about half knuckle deep. You whined, desperate from more than the measly half of his fingers.

“Good girl,” he murmured, praising your patience. You clenched around him. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want you to fuck me,” you answered immediately, your breathing uneven with anticipation.

“Like this?” His pushed the remaining length of his fingers inside of you, and you had to remember not to fuck them. They pumped in and out of you at a steady rhythm, but gosh you wanted more. “Hm, you wanted me to fuck you like this?”

“With your cock,” you answered. “Please,” you pleaded.

His fingers exited you slowly, and you heard velcro. You bit your lip knowing he was taking his trunks off, and then you felt the fat head of his cock nudging at your entrance. “Well since you asked so nicely…” He placed his hands on your hips as he began to slowly push inside of you.

“ Ngh, ” you moaned, feeling the delicious stretch of your pussy around his cock. He seemed to be pushing in forever as you adjusted to his girth, gripping the chair as tightly as you could.

You heard him let out a moan as you felt his hips against your ass. “So fucking tight for me,” he mumured, staying buried deep inside of you for a moment. One hand moved to caress the slope of your back before returning to your hips. “This is what you asked for, don’t you dare fucking move.”

Before you could say anything, he pulled out before slamming back into you, almost making you lurch forward. Gosh, it felt so fucking good. He did it again, coming out slowly before surging his hips forward. He gripped your hips tighter as he picked up the pace, his hips moving quickly to pound you from behind you with his thrusts.

You whined against the chair, your knuckles white holding on to the chair with the vigor of his thrusts, but you didn’t give a fuck. It felt amazing. He used one hand to deepen the arch in your back, and you swore you didn't even know you were that flexible. His balls slapped against your ass as the vicious pounding continued, pulling all sorts of sounds you didn’t even know you could make out of you.

One hand reached around to play with your clit, and you almost crumpled. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” he growled, his thumb circling your clit. “Be a good girl and take it.”

“Yes!” you cried out, tears beginning to stream down your face. Between the stimulation of your previous orgasm, his pounding, and the hand on your clit, you wanted to be good. More than anything you wanted to hear his praise but surely he knew how difficult he was making it for you.

“Mhm,” he groaned, feeling your pussy start to spasm around his cock. “My good fucking girl. I want to feel you come all over my cock.” He didn’t stop, his thrusts quickening along with the hand that was on your clit.

And that was it. You came around his cock as your body fell onto the chair. Still inside of you, he gave some lazy thrusts as he settled on top of you, pressing kisses to the back of your neck. “You think I’m done with you?” he chuckled darkly, sucking your earlobe into his mouth.

There was more? Maybe you really did need his workout routine. He crawled off, cock still hard, as he waited for you to sit up. You sat up, your eyes glazed in orgasmic bliss and arms and legs weak from maintaining your previous position. “Unless you’re do-”

“I’m good,” you answered quickly, rising to stand.

“I’ve got you. Come here.” He crouched down so you could wrap your arms around his neck, and easily hoisted you up, hands firmly under your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you into the house and up the stairs, all while you peppered his face with kisses. He all but threw you on the bed once you two reached his room. 

You scrambled onto the bed and he was already on top of you, cock nudging at your entrance once more. Your hands caressed the strong muscles of his back as he pushed into you again, making you throw your head back in pleasure. “Feels so good,” you moaned as he grabbed one of your thighs to put over his shoulder.

His hips surged forward once more, seemingly deeper with this new angle. “I’m glad it feels good,” he answered, his voice uneven and ragged, “Because this pussy feels amazing. You were fucking made for me.” He quickly got your other leg over his shoulder, and began frantically fucking you into the mattress.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, and he leaned down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he grinded his cock inside of you. Your eyes began to close before you felt a strong hand around your throat. The pressure was just right, and you didn’t think you could possibly be any more turned on right now. “Keep your eyes open,” he growled. “You’re going to watch me fuck this pussy.”

“Yes!” You don’t know where your words went, because the only thing you could seem to say was yes and let out moans.

“Good girl.” His lips crashed on yours and you struggled to keep your eyes open at the sensation. Your nails began to dig into his back and you feared it would draw blood, but another rough thrust made that thought go out the window. The headboard steadily knocked against the wall with each thrust, and you were reaching your peak yet again.

His hand gripped your chin tightly, “Open your mouth.” You did as instructed and he spit into your mouth, which you welcomingly swallowed.

“Fuck. Fuck! ” you moaned, your eyes closing again as another orgasm was preparing to wash over you.

Except it didn’t.

You opened your eyes, watching him slowly pull out of you. “Kento-”

“What did I tell you?” He stood, exiting the room before returning with a chair. He positioned it in front of a large full length mirror in the corner of the room. “Come here, crawl to me,” he instructed, taking a seat in the chair.

You did just that, getting off the bed and getting on all fours. Never in your life had you done this, or even dreamed of doing it, but it felt right, doing it for him. Crawling was almost uncomfortable with how wet you were but you made it, settling on your knees in the space between his legs on the chair.

He grabbed your chin again, more gently this time. “Since you didn’t want to listen, I think you would look good with my cock down your throat. What do you think?” You nodded quickly, resting a hand on his thigh and wrapping the other around the base of his cock.

Making sure your eyes were on him, you swirled your tongue around the head, moaning at the taste of your juices combined with his precum. You sucked just the head into your mouth, bobbing slowly as your hand jerked the remainder of him. His hand stroked the side of your face, a devilish glint in his eyes. “Has anyone ever said you look good with a dick in your mouth?”

Mouth still full of him, you shook your head no. “Good, because it’s only going to be mine in your mouth from now on. You hear me?” You whined around him, pussy clenching at his words as you nodded, taking him deeper into your mouth. You pulled off, jerking him with your hand before taking him back into your mouth, taking a breath before slowly taking as much as him as you could. 

You placed your other hand on his thigh as your mouth slowly sunk down onto him, your nose touching trimmed blonde pubic hairs. Tears were falling from your eyes but you looked up again at him anyway, seeing his mouth hung open and head thrown back in pleasure. “Fuck sweetheart, do that again for me.”

You nodded, taking a breath to come off his cock and do it again, hollowing your cheeks as you did. “ Shit, ” he hissed, guiding you to his lap once you pulled off. “Such a good girl, sit on my cock for me.”

You nodded, aligning his cock with your entrance and lowering yourself down on him. You whined, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a sloppy kiss as he began to fuck up into you. You tried to match his movement, but your legs were incredibly weak as you buried your face into his neck.

“I don’t think so,” he chuckled, turning your face so you could see your reflection in the mirror. He planted his feet flat on the ground and cupped your ass before beginning his onslaught again, his thrusts hard and deep.

“ Kento, ” you moaned, finding it hard to turn away from the image of yourself getting fucked in the mirror. As much as you wanted to do something, you were absolutely spent. You were going to have to do something to keep up with him in the future if it was going to be like this.

“Look at you, full of my cock and taking it like a good fucking girl.” You whined at the praise, feeling your denied orgasm just a few moments ago come back with a vengeance. “But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be full of my cock while I fuck you silly.”

He wasn’t even asking, because he fucking knew, and you surely could feel yourself going dumb with his big dick inside of you. You nodded, tears fully streaming down your face as your last ditch effort to meet his thrusts finally proved to be fruitful. You lifted yourself, hearing your ass clapping against his hips as you met his thrusts, you both going at a steady rhythm.

“Shit,” he hissed, watching as your legs finally proved themselves to be useful. “Fuck yourself, make yourself come on my cock.”

You wrapped his arms around his neck more tightly as you bounced on his cock, sometimes faster and sometimes slower. You threw your head back as he watched you in the mirror, kneading your nipples as you slowly brought yourself to orgasm.

One more tweak of your nipples, and you were coming around him. His hands moved to grip your hips tightly as he thrusted into you a few times before finishing as well. Your chest was heaving as you fell against him.

His hand rubbed your back gently as he picked you up, placing you gently on the bed and crawling behind you wrapping an arm around your waist. He pressed a soft kiss to your head, pulling you against him. “You alright, sweetheart? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m perfect,” you breathed out. “Just don’t forget about my AC.” 

The sound of his light chuckle filled the room as you closed your eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

With the way you felt in his arms and you getting the fucking of a lifetime, maybe the AC didn’t really matter.

A/N: the nanami brain rot was wild (it still is nanami nation 4LYFE)

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #ebs writes #kento x y/n #kento nanami smut #kento x you #kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

[theweeklydiscourse]

Someone on twitter was expressing their disappointment about how Katara ended up becoming the healer she never wanted to become in Legend of Korra and got absolutely piled on for it.

“She decided to settle down!”

“Are you saying that being a healer is BAD? Why are you looking down on it?”

“She had other responsibilities to attend to, like her grandchildren and community! She would’ve been too busy to fight”

“She was too fragile! She already achieved world peace, what more do you want from her?!”

These are some of the comments I saw people making about that post. I even saw someone citing the comics as an example of Katara doing more than just healing in her old age. It was a scene of her training young Korra and I though it was really sweet but like…if only they actually included that scene in the show. I just feel like we should have to use the comics as supplementary material to cover the flaws in Legend of Korra and should be able to judge it on its own merit.

The comics don’t really matter to me, because the most visible and relevant parts of the story are depicted in the ACTUAL animated series. If we are critiquing the way LOK depicted Katara, we shouldn’t have to be weighed down by dozens of whataboutisms that don’t understand the difference between a watsonian and doylist critique.

Here’s one example:

These are real people, THESE ARE REAL-LIFE ACTORS! These examples are not animated characters that exist in a supernatural world, the characters in ATLA are not governed by reality in the way that these real-life actors are. Furthermore, aging seems to be such an insurmountable obstacle for Katara…but somehow the fact that Toph and Zuko were throwing down well into their 80s is totally plausible.

But these kinds of fans will freak out over the most basic criticism of the text. They can’t handle that questioning it leads to realizing the broader thematic implications of neglecting Katara’s character and ignoring her in the story.

They bring up the comics but I just don’t accept that as proof of coherent storytelling. Like thank you for the textual example! But what if I don’t accept the text? What if I think the text is wrong and has sexist undertones?

#pro katara #avatar the last airbender #anti atla comics #anti bryke #legend of korra #atla fandom discourse #atla fandom critical #katara deserved better #katara #anti kataang

[grapejuicestyless]

The Grudge

Harry Styles x fem!reader

The second part to You’re The Winner.

ANGST

Summery: based off of the song The Grudge by Olivia Rodrigo!!

Some nights I still wake up wet from my own cold sweat and salty tears. I rework the script I’ve perfected until my pen runs dry and the pages are crinkled. I scribble out each word and fix it until the cut is so deep it cuts more than just through the page, but to the reader.

I was never someone who believed in doing things so they were merely good enough. No, I always thought things through until they were at their very best points. Each sentence rephrased to make the viewer understand the concept of the conversation but to catch the deeper meanings and let it make more and more sense with each rewatch.

Now I lay awake, terrified of never being enough. Is my success nothing more than a false ego I have in my head? Do these awards that sit on my shelf hold any value if nobody could recognize them? If earning these doesn’t elevate me do they even count as a prestigious award?

I never had these issues, I displayed everything proudly. Aware of how lucky I was to be able to accept these awards so graciously. Body draped in the finest pearls and hair styles to perfection. I was excited to tell the stories when people would ask. Tell them about what I was working on, encourage them to follow their hearts. My insecurities were always just that, small thoughts littered in my head meant to make me doubt my self worth. Now they felt like more.

More than just metaphorical daggers stabbing into my body and mind. I wake up in distress from more than my own voices but his. I still hear Harry’s voice after all these months. It’s the sound of the insults I throw at myself, at everything I’ve done. It’s his voice I hear every time I think I am not enough. And what he had to say about my passions and how I execute them still lingers like a scar. I hold onto every detail of what he thought of me like my life depends on it and I break myself over and over again by finding deeper meanings in his playground insults.

The trust that he betrayed, confusion that still lingers. He took everything I loved, my confidence and my pride and crushed it in between his fingers. He could run circles around me with all his money and resources. He knows it too, be both knew it. I just never believed he would use it as a way to take stabs at me.

I still stay awake fantasizing about his little fucking sorry. How he was in tears when I finally pulled away. The shocked look on his face. I feel tough in the privacy of my room. Able to beat him up in my head and make him feel guilty but never to his face. I try to understand why he would do this all to me. I make up situations to lessen the blow. The fact it was unsolicited and simply something he chose to do for fun. Still, I can not let it go that easily. Not until every ounce of doubt is scrubbed from my mind and the voices in my head no longer belong to him.

……………………………………..…………………………………………

Sitting at the Oscar’s I find my place beside Greta Gerwig and Emma Stone. I feel out of place. I’m friends with them, I know them and their secrets. They’ve led me through the obstacles and the difficulties that come with trying to get into film making. They have been nothing but kind and reassuring over how great they think I am yet I can not push down the feeling that when the cameras flash to us I will be labeled the place holder to make the crowd look more full. No matter how lavish my gown is, no matter how nice my hair is I will never shine like the women who sit beside me. I will never stand out and make my name be known and it is something I can not come to terms with.

To rub salt in the wound I sit there and compare each category I am placed in to everyone else. I read out the nominees on the pamphlet they hand out like we are watching a youth theatre production of a marvelous broadway play. I barely make the cut for best assistant director. I read the names beside mine and I try not to get myself worked up.

I am not Greta Gerwig, I am no Christopher Nolan. I am Y/n Y/l/n. I am a woman who dreams bigger than she can possibly ever achieve. And I try not to get in over my head, but I always do. I strive to be the best and still I get trampled over.

I read the names over and over, flipping through the pages. I read the names under each category. Billie Eilish, Taylor Swift, Adele…I think about if I should’ve taken up music. I can’t sing very well but I have so much to write about. I have so many feelings and so many things to argue that I simply can not relay through film. Not at my level anyway. Joe releasing it must be to put a pen to paper and just write whatever you feel because the darkest emotions write the best songs.

It’s the sickest joke the way the names continue to go down the line. The eleven letter name in bold italics with an invisible circle around it and arrows pointed to make sure I see it. Harry Styles is up for best original song. Not only that, but I’d heard it too. Stayed up with him while we wrote it. He was so sure it wasn’t good enough and I sat there supporting him.

I stayed awake comforting him while he cried over his million dollar piano. Tears ruining the ivory and the clear shine. How idiotic I was to have been so kind to someone who so easily tore me down like I was nothing more than a pawn to remind him of his greatness. I knew the song was beautiful. His name was golden among the others competing for such an important award. One that would recognize his talent and secure his name in Hollywood. A lump formed in my throat. If I didn’t believe him then, I did now. I wasn’t some prophecy. I didn’t have a title to my name to prove. I was someone who got lucky once. My work was nothing compared to his.

………………………………………………………………………………….

They called the nominees for each category, listing off the winners one by one. We grew closer and closer to the major categories that would have the TMZ headlines buzzing by the morning. When it was my turn to be called, I couldn’t help but feel jitters and anxiety pass through my veins.

I’d heard about everyone else. All of their movies staples in my Friday movie night routines I had continued even without Harry there to occupy a portion of the couch. I laughed, I cried, I thought deeply about each movie. I couldn’t help but feel nervous that I was up against people so much stronger than I was.

My picture on the screen showcased my much more recognizable friends shaking my shoulders. We were unprofessional and excited to see how I could be recognized. They made me feel that even if I didn’t win, it was well worth it because the academy, as rigged as we all secretly knew it was, had chosen me of all people to list along with a handful of others. It was an honor for me to be here, beside my best friends and my hero’s.

The name that rang through the microphone didn’t match mine. It wasn’t even close, yet I felt fine. The hands slipped from my shoulders to clap along with the crowd. My photo minimized to showcase the woman who had rightfully won over me. Still, my shoulders were heavy and my heart sunk. How nice it could’ve been to go home with that. Be able to hold it up to the sky and thank my brothers and sisters for helping me get there.

Greta and Emma tried to make me feel better. Nothing hurt worse than working up an excitement only to have it ripped away from you. It worked, for a minute. How blissfully unaware I was that the categories grew closer and closer to the one that involved the one man I couldn’t bare to think about now. I barely registered the way they prepared the stage to announce his category until the talking turned to whispers and the softest sniffles echoed.

He looked handsome on the big screen. His hair was darker than I remember it being, I assumed he dyed it for tonight. His shoulders were broad in his suit and his face was cleanly shaven. If his eyes could speak they would be a jumble of words that expresses different emotions. He bit his lip and toyed with his rings. I caught him picking the skin by his thumb. I wanted to yell at him to stop, it was a bad habit we tried so hard to break. But he wasn’t mine anymore. I no longer existed as a best friend to him, someone else could place their hand over his and silently relay their own thoughts to him.

The sour feeling in my heart curtailed like milk when his picture took up the entire screen. The way he stood and hugged the people around him. He was surrounded by friends and family alike that supported him in ways I used to. If it were a few years ago, that would’ve been me beside him. His plus one to an event I was already attending simply because he was everything to me.

Watching him accept that award was the final straw. How he walked up to the stage in no rush, fixing his coat on the way and running a hand through his hair. He had a lazy smirk on his face that would make anyone weak in the knees. He looked confident and yet so grateful for everything happening to me. I felt confused by his attitude. How cocky he was in private, he was so good at masking the real Harry when it came to keeping a good public image. It was some kind of pathological lier type of bullshit that made my throat close and heart pound.

In his speech he thanked his mom and his dad. He thanked his sister and his friends. His ex-Bandmates and his producers. A full list of names, he went on and on and yet my name never came up. He thanked people who didn’t even know him on the crinkled piece of paper shaking in his hands. They didn’t know his favorite color, how he preferred his eggs. He didn’t like celery but he loved peas. Mushed, soggy, fresh. He would spoon them onto his plate like a mad man. They didn’t know he slept with his socks on because he felt scared something might try to grab at him at the end of the bed even now. He was childish in a mature way. Fears he carried form childhood that he couldn’t shake, they didn’t know that and yet they got the credit I deserved. I couldn’t do it then.

I could sit there and pretend to be tough, but I wanted to scream. I could sit there and say I was fine to everyone, be my professional self but I couldn’t act like it was okay anymore. To tear me down, to rewrite your past to fit the people who chose you based off fame and not on who you are, to get rid of what we once cherished was too far. I could put aside his harsh words for the sake of the night but his blatant disregard for my feelings after he’d cried over my leaving said enough.

When he left the stage I made my exit, mumbling something short of having to use the bathroom. My dress was short enough to not have to gather it between my fingers. I could walk quickly down the aisle and look at my feet on the way. I couldn’t make eye contact with anyone, even though they didn’t know me I felt that the look on my face would reveal it all.

The door opened harshly but had stoppers on it to silence any amount of force pushed on it. It made any angry outburst look accidental. The only indication that the door had been opened was the sliver of light the slipped through the opening of the main lobby and the dimly lighted theatre that held the greatest minds of film alike.

My feet hit the expensive carpet hard, heals digging into each design I wondered if my aggression would permanently dent the fabric, ruin the art in it.

It was colder outside of the room that I sat idly in, more free. The only people out here at this time were the few paparazzi permitted and stray employees cleaning up for the night. Flashes took my vision and I could see the headlines now.

How I would be bashed for simply showing my emotions. How they would paint me as a bitter sore loser who couldn’t even keep it together and act fine. I couldn’t blame them really. How would the world even know of how their favorite pop star had taken a hold of my heart and ruined any perception of love I had for him in a few short months.

The air outside was chilling. My skin was bare and in a way, in my artistic side of my mind I could pretend it was the literal way the world was showing how I felt. Tiny stabbing wounds across my arms creating goosebumps running up and down each exposed part of my body.

My car wasn’t there. I was out so early without warning, I became stranded not only mentally but physically. I didn’t care then. If I had to walk the streets of Los Angeles in high heals and an expensive gown. If I got mugged of all my belongings on my way home I didn’t care. I couldn’t be near anyone anymore. I couldn’t hold it together and I certainly wouldn’t fall apart for everyone to see.

Footsteps slapped against the pavement so quickly, I didn’t process the splashing of puddles or the heavy breathing approaching me. With my luck, I would already become a victim to a robbery before even turning the corner.

The hand on my arm came next. It wasn’t rough but it was firm enough to catch my attention. More than that, it was so familiar, so warm.

I felt the roughness of fingertips brushing under my bicep and the contrasting softness of his palm resting on top. His rings were warmed from his skin already, smooth against my body. I knew who the hand belonged to immediately. It was one I had held, toyed with and admired for years. One attached to a body that I adored, looked up to like a hero.

Turning, his eyes met mine. They were a darker green. I couldn’t see if from how far I was before, but he looked more tired, more sad. His eyes were dark not from anger or all the drinks I had hoped he was downing so he would forget about me, but because something was bothering him. Something heavy. He carried a lot of regret and sadness in his eyes that were once so free and careless. He seemed more calculated in his choice of words, more precise than his usual mess of sentences that came straight from his mind to his mouth.

“You didn’t have to chase after me.” I broke the silence, he was still catching his breath. He shook his head, looking down to gather himself. His pants were wet at the bottom from the pavement and his hair was falling in front of his face. I wanted to reach out and brush it back, but it wasn’t my place. I didn’t have a place in his life anymore.

“I wanted to.” He confessed, searching my face. In my head I’d like to think my expression was stone cold. One that was heartless, expressionless. I didn’t care in my head, but in my heart I did. I felt my lip quiver, I felt my eyebrows furrow. I was an open book for Harry to read.

“Why? So you could fix things? Fix us?” I escalated things quickly. I didn’t want to play his mind games. He was brilliant, people didn’t give him enough credit for it. If I allowed him to sit here and apologize while I was already feeling vulnerable, it wouldn’t matter how sincere it was. I would accept it and cave and by the morning I would hate myself for letting my heart take over my brain.

“No, don’t do that. Y/n, you were the one who walked out on me. I tried to get you to stay, and I regret not trying harder and if I could go back I would’ve begged on my knees but that doesn’t change the fact that you still left. I care about you, Y/n. You’re my best friend.” His voice was sharp, desperate. It felt so real, everything he was saying. I trusted him completely. I understood what he was feeling. Some nights I wish I had stayed. I had just put up with it. It was all the talk of my undying love that I held for Harry. A friendship that may have turned into a small crush in my head without me realizing. My undying love, now, I hold it like a grudge. The reason that forgiving and forgetting is so hard.

“Do you think I deserved it all? Harry tell me, please. Is that what you really think of me? As someone who deserved to be built up just so you could watch me fall? Is that what I was for you?” I begged him to understand what I meant. What I endured was verbally abusive, toxic, venomous. It killed me to know that my best friend thought so low of me. So poorly of the girl he swore to protect with all his heart.

“You know I never meant to.” He tried to defend himself, his hand loosened on my skin, falling down to hold my hand. His fingers intertwining in mine felt like tiny flames bursting out across my hand. It was so soft yet so hard, my body started to shake from more than just the cold.

“You are so selfish.” I shook my head, breathing in to look at the same bewildered face that looked back at me all those weeks ago. I remembered all the arguments I had won in my head against him. In the shower, in the car, in the mirror before bed. I remember all the things I didn’t say that I wish I had, all the ways I could’ve made him hurt like I had. It would’ve made me the smaller person.

The fact he looked lost about where I was coming from made it so much more difficult to not spill my guts to him there on the sidewalk. He made it so hard to not want to rip him apart with his oblivion and gaslighting tendencies. I doubt he even though about all the damage that he did.

“I just-I can’t wrap my head around how anybody could do the things you did so easily? You have everything and you still want more! You must be insecure, you must be so unhappy! I know it more than anything, I’ve lived it. Harry, hurt people, hurt people. We both drew blood but man, those cuts were never equal!” I didn’t touch him but to both of us it felt like I had slapped him in the face. Acknowledging his actions and mine that led us here made it so much more real, the end was so much more destined for our story. I tried to be tough, I tried to be mean, but still standing there after pouring out my heart and feelings I couldn’t help but crumble. A single cry tumbled from my lip. I shook my head and looked to the sky. Harry made no movement.

It was pathetic to be so torn after so much time apart. He should’ve held no weight in my heart, but he always would. He was the most important opinion in my life, even when he wasn’t present. When reworking scripts and giving direction, in the back of my head it became a constant question of if Harry thought it was enough. If it was good enough.

“You could’ve at least given me credit, you know I deserved that much.” My hand ripped from his viciously. It burned the way we separated so quickly. His eyes were stuttering over mine, his mouth tried to move, hand digging through his pocket.

I no longer had time for him, not then not ever. He could pick me apart, rip my heart out and stitch it back together, point daggers at my deepest hurts but he would no longer get these reactions out of me.

My escape was the same as the last. Quick and panicked. My feet hit the pavement harder than before and my arms swung with so much force, I was pushing myself forward with each step. Farther and farther, I couldn’t find the courage to look back like before. I couldn’t stand to think about him crying again. My hatred for his actions could never compare to the love I would always hold for Harry. If he didn’t deserve me, that would be okay. But I could not live with myself knowing I made him cry again. Not even after what he did.

………………………………………………………………………………….

“You could’ve at least given me credit, you know I deserved that much.” Her hand ripped from mine so quickly that it almost burnt my skin. It was like a fresh wound opening to feel her leaving not only mentally again, but physically. How her touch would never be in mine again. How she no longer belonged to me, I no longer belonged to her.

Her words set in after a hesitating moment. She meant my speech. God, how could I have been so stupid? To not realize how hurt she must’ve been to be erased so easily from the narrative. Like the nights spent together and the laughter and tears meant nothing. The piano ruined and her shirt soaked by my tears. The shirt that was really mine. I wondered if she still had it after all this time. It always did look better on her than me. I would give her everything if I could.

I dug through my pockets quickly to find it, the crinkled piece of paper with all the names on it. All the words I wanted to say but knew I would stumble over in my own nerves if I were to win. My hands were shaking so bad, I couldn’t grasp it in time. She was gone.

Something about this time told me that she wasn’t coming back. She wouldn’t stop. Not even the most guttural cry could make her look back. I had hurt her over and over again. Still, I wanted to apologize. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was until the word held no meaning and sounded odd coming from my lips. Like it was no longer real. She owed me none of her time.

So I stood there by myself, in the light rain that fell over Los Angeles, wet and alone. My paper was wrinkled in my hands, creased and bent messily. I looked down at the handwriting that didn’t really look like mine. How even in my excitement to be nominated, the loss of Y/n was so heavy it was hard to do anything. The pen was too heavy. I couldn’t do anything I once loved without her support. I looked down at all the names. My mother, my sister. They weren’t even first on the list. The first name I had written down, Y/n Y/l/n. My best friend.

I hadn’t read it out because I thought she wouldn’t want me to. I didn’t want to take away from an important night for her. Steal the spotlight from her award I was certain she would win by placing her name onto mine.

I was so sure she would win. She would be happy and we could reconnect. I had watched the movie, I watched all of her movies. She was the best of us. Always a talented writer, always having a new idea to jot down. Her napkins were sketch pads and her notes app was a dictionary of her favorite books and inspirations for shots. I know nobody with a mind like hers, one as creative and brilliant. I’m not sure why I tore her down all those days. Made her feel worthless when she was one of the best things in my life.

Even after all of this, she was and would always be everything to me. I could try and try and try to forget her and erase her from my life but she would always carry a piece of me around with her. I would always have hints of her in my home, in my wardrobe. She was everywhere without even being there.

She was my best friend.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles #fine line harry styles #oscars #hslot harry #yn x harrystyles

[greenteabelle]

feeling some type of way about q!philza talking about his wings healing . 

as an immortal who has roamed the earth for centuries , q!philza knows how to adapt to his surroundings . against the blazing sun , thunderous rain , snowy blizzards and harsh winds , his wings have gotten used to adjusting to each type of weather no matter where he goes . 

then he wakes up feverish and sweaty on the train to quesadilla island , immediately aware of the sudden loss of weight off his back . he doesn't know what the federation did to his wings , how rough they must have been as they snipped his feathers this way and that , but it did the job . 

now bony and crooked , his wings are useless . 

so he binds them with bandages , eyes red-rimmed from tears , and keeps them hidden securely under his cloak . he pulls himself together and does what he has always done best : move on . 

when he meets chayanne , his wonderful , lovable son , he makes sure that the bandages are just tied a bit tighter . 

because when he is faced with the starry-eyed gaze of wonder for each heroic tale he spins before chayanne's bedtime , he can't bear to tell him the truth . chayanne doesn't need to know how far he's fallen from grace . 

how pathetic he's become . 

but he makes do with life , as he always does , and takes full advantage of the surprising resourcefulness of the island . 

the paragliders . then the tridents . then the grappling squok . the last one still freaks him out with its sounds , but he keeps one on him at all times . 

anything to feel that rush of wind blowing against his hair , the weightless moments in the vast blue sky . 

then he wakes up in purgatory with the other islanders , not a single item in his possession , and he does the only thing he can do .

survive . 

that alone is hard enough to accomplish , especially when there's a group of misfits looking to him for directions as the island does its very best to get rid of them . despite the odds stacked heavily against them , he is anything but a man who lacks faith . 

so they run as swiftly as they can , fight as desperately as possible , hide as discreetly as they're able .  

over the course of two days , q!philza finds himself standing up for members he's barely interacted with and stepping in with a fierce determination when they're threatened . 

somehow , in the shittiest place imaginable , q!philza has found himself another family to protect . maybe it's the adrenaline , fueling his desperation to finally have a family he can protect . maybe it's the habitual indulgence , finding himself fond over their amusing antics in the face of danger .

whatever it is , it makes him decide to trash the bandages that have grown worn and tattered and leave his wings hanging limply but exposed . 

because in such a fucked up world , who the fuck cares about ugly wings anyway ? 

the members notice , particularly q!jaiden and q!baghera , but they don't ask questions . 

slowly adjusting to the ever-changing obstacles that the island throws at them , they keep pushing and pushing and pushing . things get better . they always do . 

but sometimes … things are too much . 

sometimes there are one too many disasters . 

sometimes there are one too many altercations . 

sometimes there just isn't much hope left to go on . 

the first time one of those moments happen , q!philza finds q!jaiden and q!baghera still awake despite the late hour , huddled close to a campfire and their eyes dazed from fatigue . they're unusually quiet and twitch ever so often as the flames dance dangerously close to them . before he can stop himself , he asks them a question . 

“ could i preen your feathers ? ”

their matted wings haven't escaped his notice even since day one , but he didn't want to overstep at the time . perhaps even now he's overstepping , so he scrambles to retract his question with an awkward excuse , only for them to nod quickly without a moment's hesitation . 

so he shows them the ropes , and guides them through each step he takes as he handles their feathers with painstaking care . 

he also doesn't ask why they don't know how to do it themselves . 

just as he's done with both of their wings , he fully expects them to go to sleep immediately , finally finding some peace in the midst of constant chaos . what he doesn't expect , is for them to ask if they can do the same to his wings . 

his broken , pathetic wings . 

his first instinct is to refuse , as kindly as possible of course , but when he's met with the poorly disguised nervousness on their faces , what else can he do but say yes ? so he agrees , going against every instinct in his body for exposing the weakest part of himself to others . 

and when they touch the first feather , q!philza physically restrains himself from swiping at their throats with his sword , digging his nails into his palms with a white-knuckled grip . as they continue , he can't quite conceal the violent shudder down his spine , but it gradually resides that by the time he finally has the sense to check on them , he's horrified by the sight of blood on their hands . 

he immediately fusses over them , the guilt over not warning them beforehand about the razor sharp edges of his feathers making him sick to his stomach , but they only grin brightly . 

“ didn't we do a good job , philza ? look at your wings ! ”

sure enough , his wings look better . 

it's still tattered and utterly useless , but they do look better . 

“ you did great . let's find some bandages for your cuts and i'll teach you how to avoid hurting yourself in the future . ”

the next day , the three of them look the most rested they have ever been since the day they stepped foot on this island . 

so it becomes a thing . every night before they turn in , q!philza helps them clean their feathers and they do the same for him . eventually , q!cellbit , q!foolish and q!charlie join them when their curiosity is too obvious to ignore . their movements are clumsy and inexperienced , yet their touches are gentle . 

a new routine is thus added to each member's day , though it feels as natural as if they've been doing it since day one . 

one day , q!philza is gathering resources with q!etoiles for the team , when the latter makes an off-handed remark . 

“ by the way , phil , your wings look cooler than before . ”

“ aww , thanks mate . ”

then the words really hit him . 

slowly , q!philza extends his wings forward and sure enough , they look different now . there's visibly more feathers than before , almost covering his bones completely , and even a faint gradient sheen on them . his wings feel solid now , not just hollow reminders of what they once were . 

they look familiar now . 

when he sees the secretive smiles his members share as they see him spread his wings a little more , a feeling of overwhelming fondness fills his heart . how does he thank them ? how does he show how grateful he is for having members as wonderful as them ? 

he plans . 

every night , after their preening session and everyone has gone to bed , he sits on the edge of his bed , which is really just a straw mat , and spends just a bit extra time to stretch his wings and preen those feathers . there’s hope blooming in his chest , for the first time in a long time , and he persists . 

then on the final day of battle , q!philza spreads his wings . 

across the expanse of the blood red sky , he soars .

#quackity smp #qsmp #philza #q!philza #i hate the tumblr app for not having an auto-save feature #i had to rewrite this entire thing and it ran a bit from me #a q!philza au that's finally not angsty ? shocking !

[damn-it-a-hogwarts-legacy-blog]

Moonlight

AO3 Link

Ominis and MC go for a nighttime walk, and quite literally stumble into the perfect little clearing.

Ominis x fem!MC

NSFW—sexual content

Fluff that devolves into rough al fresco sex. Not much more to say about this one, there's teasing and good old-fashioned rough sex. These two love branching out into new and creative ways to fuck lol

Word count: 2,971

A/N: For @callmehopeless :) @sebastian-and-ominis-share-me requested a tag too. As always, MC and Ominis remain my excuse to indulge in writing disgustingly sweet, idealized married life, and I will never apologize for it because my! 👏 boy! 👏 Ominis! 👏 deserves! 👏 it! 👏

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Night walks were always Ominis' favorite. His blindness made walks enjoyable at any time, but under the soft cover of night, he felt more protected from the prying eyes of those who sought to invade his precious few moments of peace. Perhaps it was a holdover from his days growing up in the shadow of the Gaunt family, or perhaps he would have enjoyed it regardless of his circumstances. It mattered very little, especially when he could take these walks with MC.

MC shared his love of nighttime outings, and had begun the habit when she was just a student. She would wake from vivid, unspeakable nightmares of Victor Rookwood and his poachers that left her entire body shivering and drenched in a terrified sweat. She would throw on her cloak (or Ominis', if she had borrowed it from him for the night) and stride into darkness that blanketed the castle grounds until her trembling fingers slowed and sleep once again tugged at her eyes.

They had found each other late one spring night, aimlessly wandering the castle, and decided then and there that, should one of them not be able to sleep, they would find the other and walk together until they were too exhausted and would drift off in the protection of each other’s arms in the Undercroft or the Room of Requirement.

The pair had decided on this particular summer night that a stroll at midnight was exactly what they both needed after they had spent all day hiding away from the punishing sun. Poor Ominis always looked as if his delicate paper doll skin might catch alight in the harsh rays, and MC could not stand the lethargy that threatened to pull her to the floor upon which she stood. The muggle neighbors who surrounded their peaceful country house were asleep at this hour, and Ominis would be free to navigate using his wand without fear of being seen by non-magical folk. The bright moon taking flight overhead would be their sole witness as the couple reveled in a world that belonged only to them.

The night air was intoxicatingly sweet, the smell of honeysuckle and roses floating on a breeze's soft sigh from someone's nearby garden. The pair walked hand in hand as if they were adolescents again, whispers of their love for one another on their lips as if they were afraid professors and other students might hear them.

On a whim, MC decided to wander off the road and explore the woods as the two had often done in the Forbidden Forest. MC and Ominis did not care that they might be considered too old to find joy in meandering through leaves and dirt, over fallen branches and through the scrub; they had both always felt at home in the frowned-upon and the impermissible.

Ominis, with his wand as his guide, deftly navigated every obstacle—far more easily than MC who had to rely on her imperfect nighttime vision. He crept up behind her and startled her so badly when he caught her in his arms that she shrieked and slapped his chest with a laugh. She struggled for a moment to break free of his grasp, and he tutted at her.

"Wherever do you think you're flitting off to now, my little hummingbird?" He leaned down to steal a kiss, drawing a luxurious sigh from her lips as he pulled away. "Certainly it's too dark for such a lovely little creature to be out here all alone."

He released her, and she skipped a few steps away before turning to smile at him. "You’ll have to be quicker than that if you want to ensnare me, my pretty serpent." With that, she was off through the forest, her floor-length skirt fanning out and Ominis not far behind, their mirth carrying over the trees as they leapt and ran on wings of night.

MC did her best to outrun him, but Ominis was still faster and stronger. She had made her way to a clearing dotted with wild daffodils when her husband seized her. He finally lost his footing in the excitement of his successful hunt, and the two tumbled into the long grass. MC was stunned and, for one dreadful moment, Ominis feared he had hurt her. Instead, she gasped and began laughing again. Ominis heaved a sigh and lay on his back, listening to the pure happiness bubble up from her lips. Crickets droned lazily under her voice, and he could feel another cool breeze carrying the scent of the flowers all around them. As she caught her breath, she looked over to see his eyes blankly staring upwards, a smile dancing across his lips. He turned his head toward her, and his smile faded into longing that pulled in his throat. MC's eyes followed the little constellation of moles up his cheek to his deep, starry eyes that glinted moonlight like sharp diamonds. She knew that look. He was thinking—intently.

"You somehow look even more stunning than usual, Ominis," MC smiled, her fingers dancing along his hand that lay between them. "What is it that's on your mind?"

"You," he breathed almost instantly. "Here, in this heavenly night, just the two of us... it does things to a man to know his beautiful wife is so madly in love with him. Lying here in a field of sweet-smelling flowers and grasses next to you, I feel as if I’m fifteen again. It's exhilarating."

He rolled himself up and, supported by his arms, leaned over her. He slowly brought his face to hers, and she could see every detail she had long since memorized in his still-open eyes. He moved forward until he was so close that her own eyes, trained on him, fell out of focus. She felt an exhilaration whenever he did that, leaning in while his eyes tried their damndest to stare at her. He was like a cobra, ready to strike. Her eyes fluttered shut as she welcomed his attack upon her lips.

He desired to be closer to her still until he was pressing his weight down on her, feeling her sigh into his lips. His kisses gradually pushed deeper into her lips, and his voice slithered from his throat.

"I need you," he moaned, growing bolder with every passing second. "I need to be as close to you as possible..." His hips rolled fruitlessly against her in accord. MC gently pressed her leg between his, and his moan sent hot tingling through her ribs and spine.

"Ominis," MC could barely get in between his kisses. "Are you sure you won't mind the dirt? Would you not rather wait until we get back home where we have a soft bed and warm, clean sheets?"

"To hell with dirt," he growled, lips now drifting towards her neck and leaving pure fire in their wake. "We can always have a warm bath—together—if we so desire."

Ominis had already begun undoing the buttons on MC's blouse, his fingers flicking expertly over each one. He was getting fast, she thought, and she briefly pondered finding blouses and dresses with more buttons just to be cheeky with him. In a few short moments he had released her from her pretty little ruffled top, and MC placed it in a pile knew would only grow. He placed a hand on her sternum, expecting to feel the thin fabric of a chemise beneath his slender fingers. Instead, he felt bare skin and his eyes lit up in surprise.

"It was too hot to wear anything under my clothes today," MC whined. "And anyhow, I had a feeling you wouldn't mind too much."

Ominis hummed to show his agreement, and he got straight to work worshipping her skin. He gave slow, soft kisses along as much of her as he could reach, as if he had been starved of her affections for months. Her skin was perfectly smooth, save for her nipples that stood firm in the night air. MC moaned softly when Ominis pressed his lips around one to kiss and suck at it, his hand mindlessly kneading her other breast. Each flick of his tongue or tweak of his fingers dazed MC, her eyelids fighting a losing battle to stay open.

"How does it feel?" Ominis asked with a devilish smile.

MC tried to reply and only let out another moan as heat pooled in her core. She had never been sure how he managed it, sometimes driving her to orgasm from teasing her nipples alone, but oh how it was inebriating.

Her own hand slid up the back of his head and carded through his soft, blond hair, brushing off bits of dirt and undoing some of the pomade that had kept it immaculately brushed back all day. She looked down to see him slowly becoming more wild.

"That's it," she whispered. "Just like that. Oh, your tongue—"

Ominis growled wordlessly and hips rolled again, now with more force, and MC reached down to help Ominis out of his trousers and pants. His hand and mouth reluctantly moved away from teasing her, and he stood on his knees, one on each side of her hips, as he made a show of stripping off the bothersome garments.

How absolutely spectacular he looked, a furious blush blooming across his face as he did not even bother taking off his shirt. His erection was endlessly beautiful. MC had seen her husband fully naked hundreds of times, but it never grew less arousing to see him leaning over her, cock swinging lazily and dripping with need, just waiting for her.

She rose and pushed him to his back, straddling his hips. "If I'm going to be covered in dirt and dust, I think it's only fair that we do the same for you," she smirked.

Ominis glowered at her for just a moment, annoyed that he was no longer on top. All was forgiven, however, when MC held his wrists to the ground and, underneath her skirt, slid her dripping wet core up and down the underside of his now-throbbing erection. He made a noise somewhere between a massively pleasured moan and a deep, feral growl. She knew how this game was played, and she knew the prize that awaited her if she could build up enough steam inside him.

"Oh, you feel so much better than any part of my hands," she goaded as she savored every single millimeter of his cock that slid against her needy clit over and over. She could not believe her luck, that she—and nobody else in the world—got to witness his current expression as it betrayed nothing short of pure lust. His chest rose and fell, impassioned as his eyebrows knitted together and, before he could catch himself, he hissed his need in parseltongue. She had learned just enough from him to piece together that he desired to fuck her hard and deep, and her core practically flooded around him.

Ominis growled deeply again and, with as much gentleness as he could muster, lifted her as he sat up and laid her on her back. "I can't take it anymore," he groaned. He leaned down and whispered dangerously, so close to her ear that his breath felt blazing hot on her skin. "I will have you."

His shaking fingers fought against her skirt and won, unbuttoning it and pulling it off her completely. She felt vulnerable there on her back, absolutely nothing between her panting body and the forest around them, and for one brief moment she was almost frightened. Ominis shrugged off his shirt and leaned back over her, eclipsing her anxiety. He tried his best to be a good and dutiful husband, reaching his fingers down to tease her core and play with her clit, but she knew what he truly wanted and pulled his hand away for him. He tilted his head, and MC answered his silent question with a hand on the back of his hips, gently pushing him further towards her parted legs.

She offered a leg around his waist and her arms around his neck. She ran a finger along that little spot, just under his ear, that sent tendrils of chills up his spine. His eyes rolled shut, and in one swift motion he buried his aching cock to the hilt and her head swam, tears springing to her eyes. He leaned forward with urgency and kissed her face comfortingly, but she pushed her hips against him to urge him to start moving. He was more than happy to oblige.

He moved in and out of her with a surprisingly slow, gentle rhythm, but the look on his face said all she needed to know. Even as he had her scandalously pinned down in a field in the middle of the night, he was waiting for her to ask for more.

“Fuck me,” she growled, surprised at how agitated she sounded. “We make such soft and gentle love in the confines of our comfortable bed. So show me what you really wanted to do out here—why you were so impatient.”

She earned herself a forceful thrust that grated dirt and grass against her back, and she savored the light sting. She gripped his hair encouragingly. “Oh, fuck yes,” she groaned, and Ominis was lost completely in her body.

Each rough thrust echoed as an animalistic growl in his throat, and she craned her neck to kiss and suck at that throat. He held her arms down and listened to her slide across the earth each time he pounded into her. Each time he wound up, he left her feeling woefully empty—empty to the point that she wanted to beg for him. And each time he rammed back into her, her vision flared white and she wondered how much longer she could contain herself.

He could hear every contact of skin and succulent fluid, and he pressed himself closer to her until each thrust pushed against her clit and she moaned his name. He could tell she was holding back the inevitable to draw this out, and he wouldn’t allow it. Perhaps another night, but not tonight.

“Come for me,” he seductively hissed. "I want to hear your cries and feel you tighten around my cock. I want to feel your pretty little body writhing beneath me in the dirt and grass.” Goosebumps rolled violently over her skin and she threw her head back, a tiny glimmer of amusement in the back of her overloaded mind about how much dirt must be in her hair by now, and suddenly there was nothing in the world except the two of them and the searing pleasure that ripped through every fiber of muscle in her body over and over. She couldn’t control the scream that carried Ominis’ name, or her nails raking over his shoulders, or her walls that clenched unforgivingly around him. Her entire body pulsed and bucked, desperately needing his release like she needed air.

Ominis surrendered to his own orgasm as she pulsed and milked his cock relentlessly. He matched her voice with her name and dug his perfectly trimmed nails into the soft flesh of her arms. With each sublime thrust, he whined and emptied himself deep inside her until he had nothing left, and he was left desperately out of breath as the rest of the world came rushing back to their ears. Save their panting, the only sounds were of crickets and a soft breeze that soughed through the trees and grass. MC's vision returned and she saw Ominis above her, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes lidded even heavier than normal. If only he knew just how beautiful he was, she mused as she reached a comforting hand up to the side of his face.

Ominis began to pull out, but MC whined and placed her other hand on the small of his back to stop him. He chuckled and pressed a delicate kiss to her collarbone. Ominis had become his typical sweet self again, and he smiled at her.

“Are you feeling better?” she breathed, tucking a rebellious strand of hair behind his ear and watching it fall out again.

“Merlin, that was good,” he groaned. “You’re always so lovely for indulging me like this.”

“Indulging you?” she laughed. "I should think this was quite mutual."

Ominis kissed her again. “You are a far better wife than I could ever hope to deserve.”

“And you, my beguiling serpent, are a perfect husband.” She punctuated her reply with a small tap on the end of his nose, causing him to flinch slightly and laugh.

MC finally relented and let Ominis go. He pulled out of her and she relished in the feeling of some of his seed spilling from her. She gingerly sat up on her legs and, with her husband’s help, tried to brush the dirt from her back. She felt long, loose strands of her hair escaping from her bun. Sighing, she pulled out the myriad of pins and combs and let it fall in a halo around her. Ominis combed his fingers through her long hair and couldn’t help but pull her into another loving embrace. “You’re just like a little nymph,” he hummed in amusement. “As much as I wish we could stay here so that I may admire your divine beauty, however, perhaps we ought to get you home so we may both have a bath.”

“Yes please,” she giggled as she leaned against his bare chest, the remnants of his cologne, the grass around them, and the perfect scent of lovemaking radiating headily from his skin. “Perhaps just a few minutes more like this, though?”

Ominis kissed her head in agreement. He suspected they would be taking many more night walks after this.

#OH GOD I completely forgot to mention that there are like two very stupid references that I wrote into this for my own amusement lmao #one is to Harry Potter and the other is unrelated to anything HP at all 😭😭😭 #if anyone finds them I will be so completely impressed and flabbergasted #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt fluff #ominis gaunt smut #ominis smut #Isabel Greymoore

[lucozadehulahoop]

Star-crossed. Lo'ak x fem!human!reader

This was originally posted on my side blog @thankeywa. It's a brand new blog and tumblr thinks it's a bot so it's not giving it visibility. Please go give it some love, I want all my avatar!related stuff to be on there.

PART 2 HERE PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE

I know that literally nobody asked for this, but I've noticed a disturbing lack of Lo'ak fics out there, so I've decided to give my input. I've had a story in mind for a while now, and I needed to get it out there. It will be a reader insert to make it more accessible, but it's somewhat based around an original f!character, so I apologize for that in advance if it gets too specific.

WARNINGS: Lo'ak is 20 years old in this and so is the reader, I do not write about minor characters. There will be eventual mature themes in this so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK.

For everyone else, if you like my writing, please let me know if you want to be on the tag list for future installments and SEND ME REQUESTS (head canons, imagines, sfw/nsfw, ecc.) ! I love that shit.

words: around 1.200

summary: reader is a human left behind on pandora, she grew up with the remaining humans who'd been aloud to stay on the planet after the war and has been friends with the Sully clan her entire life. She and Lo'ak were best friends until he began to pull away from her in their teen years for seemingly no reason. This story is about them reconnecting on the day of her twentieth birthday, and dealing with the feelings they have for each other and the obstacles that come with them being from two different worlds.

TW for this chapter: angst, smoking (don't do it, ever), brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of war and death, brief mention of child birth, reader can breathe on pandora.

Y/n looked at the 'birthday cake' made out of cookie rations that Norm and Max had made for her. No matter how many years would pass, her dads always knew how to get creative.

"I'm twenty years old, you guys don't have to keep throwing me a birthday party." She reprimanded them softly, though her heart was filled with joy. Y/n was so thankful to have people in her life who cared enough to make her day special every single year.

"Considering you spent most of your early existence tied to test tubes to stay alive, we're merely celebrating the scientific marvel your continued survival has been." Norm joked, raising a beer, and y/n shoved him, before blowing out the single candle that had been meticulously re-used each year. It was a wonder how there was any wax still left on it.

"What did the birthday girl wish for?" Max asked, reaching for a dried-up cookie and cringing slightly at the taste as he chewed on it slowly. "The whole point of a birthday wish is to keep it to myself... or it won't come true. Honestly, I question your two's knowledge of Earth's traditions." y/n shook her head, before taking a celebratory sip of alcohol.

Norm and Max left eventually, back to the main base. They were more than capable of piloting a helicopter those days, and y/n was all grown up. More than capable of living by herself. What once had been an avatar lab, smack dab in the middle of the forests of Pandora, had been converted into her home. Pandora's rapidly repopulating fauna had surprisingly left her residence alone, well... mostly. There were still some creatures who couldn't help but keep themselves away. And by creatures, she meant Spider. Y/n was also friends with actual people like Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, and... Lo'ak. Truth be told, she didn't know whether or not she and Lo'ak were even friends anymore. They'd been thick as thieves for as long as she could remember, always getting him out of trouble and fixing him up after a scuffle with his siblings. But then, around her sixteenth birthday, he'd started pulling away, and y/n had never understood why. They'd had a big fight about it, bottom line, he hadn't wanted to be around her anymore and y/n had to accept it.

"Open up! It's fucking freezing out here!" Came Spider's loud voice followed by an incessant banging on the door that immediately pulled y/n out of her reverie. "Alright, alright..." she laughed a little as she went to let them all inside. The Sullys were always insisting on spending birthdays together, even though some of them were now getting too big to even fit inside her 'home'. Neteyam had to walk around with his back bent forward, and Kiri knocked over quite a few things before they made it to y/n's main living space, which was more or less Na've-proof. "Happy birthday!" Tuk hugged her and y/n struggled not to feel crushed by the embrace. Even the littlest Sully was now nearly as tall as her.

Y/n let them all inside, already giving them dirty looks at the sight of gifts. "I told you guys not to..."

She stayed on the doorstep a little longer, gazing out into the night, desperately hoping one last uninvited guest would turn up. She felt Neteyam's hand on her shoulder. "He's not coming. I tried to talk to him but he was being a skxawng as usual..." Y/n blushed, not really wanting Neteyam to know she was pining for his younger brother. "Oh, right! I was—just checking you were all here..." she closed the door and they both went back to join the others.

___

"Alright come on, your mom is going to kill me if you get back late and I don't have enough space in here for all of you. Spider would have to sleep outside." Y/n teased, trying to let Tuk understand it was time to go. "Hey!" Spider protested at her lighthearted jab, but knew it was time for them to get going. Nobody wanted to get on Neytiri's bad side. Y/n hugged them all goodbye and thanked them for the presents: Tuk had made her a lovely drawing, and the others had collectively made her a rather beautiful necklace, which she immediately wore. Y/n waited on her doorstep till she could no longer hear the sounds of her friends chatting, and then proceeded to do two incredibly dangerous things: she sat outside of the protection of her bunker, all alone in the cold Pandora night air, and lit up a cigarette.

She'd discovered a terrifyingly endless supply of cigarette cartoons back at the base almost a year prior, and as soon as she'd tried her first one, she'd gotten addicted. Y/n hadn't told Norm or Max, of course, as it would have broken their hearts, especially because of how fragile she was. Y/n's mother had gone into labor in the aftermath of the battle for Pandora between the Na'vi and the Sky people. The soldier had lost her life giving birth, but her baby had survived, taking her first breath in the inhospitable Pandora air. Norm was convinced Eywa herself had kept her alive, had given her the ability to take in the air that hadn't previously failed to kill any other human. Sure, it had come at the price of being particularly fragile her entire life. And how was y/n repaying that gift? By cutting her miraculous existence short more and more each day. Thankfully, it was a while since she'd been used as a test rat, or had check ups of any sort. As far as the Sullys were concerned... they were way better off not even knowing what she was doing to herself.

A sudden rustling in the trees instantly made y/n alert and she didn't waste any time getting back inside. She showered, and shamefully hid her smokes somewhere her dads or the Sullys wouldn't look. When she had nothing else left to do, y/n forced herself to crawl into bed, placing a hand over her necklace. Her wish to see Lo'ak hadn't come true in the end, and while not surprising, it still hurt like hell.

"A pack of viperwolves? Seriously, Lo'ak?" Y/n groaned in frustration as she cleared her table for her best friend to lie on.

"I thought I could take them." He hissed as she doused him with disinfectant. "Yeah, well, you know human medical treatment hurts like a bitch, so it's either my way, or you're going to have to fess up to your parents about what you did." Y/n tried to sound cold, but she'd always been too soft on him.

When they were younger, and Lo'ak still hadn't grown to be double her size, they would often fall asleep together in her bed. "You don't have to keep doing this shit to prove something, you know?" She whispered to him one night, turning over to look at him and gently touch his face. "Your parents love you. And so do Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk and Spider. Lo'ak, I— we— don't want to lose you."

Y/n was almost asleep when a loud 'thud' coming from outside woke her. Something was moving on her roof, or rather, someone... Y/n didn't show whether she was dreaming or not as she looked out the window and locked eyes with Lo'ak, because the second she did, he seemed to slide off the top of her bucker, falling down into the grass below with a loud groan.

He'd probably just woken up half of the animals on Pandora.

#avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #lo'ak x you #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak fluff #lo'ak smut #lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak sully #lo'ak headcanons #atwow #atwow smut #atwow imagines #lo'ak x human reader #avatar x human reader #lo'ak x fem reader #avatar 2009 #avatar x reader smut #avatar fanfiction

[fanmoose12]

“Petra fancies you.”

So abrupt and indelicate – what else should Levi expect from his own personal cause of headache, Hange Zoe? Well, if he was being honest with himself, he fully expected that by now she’d already get on top of the table in the center of the cafeteria and start what only she can classify as dancing. That’s what she usually does when she has as much alcohol as Levi had noticed she’d consumed tonight.

But, apparently, that course of action has gotten a bit too boring and predictable for Hange’s ever-changing tastes.

So, now she decides to pester him of all people.

Levi isn’t so easy to pester, though, so he does the most logical thing one can in such a predicament – he does his best to ignore Hange’s presence entirely. He stares resolutely into his own cup of piss that people around here deem good enough to call beer, and hopes that Hange would get bored of him and his silence swiftly and move onwards to find another victim.

That, however, doesn’t happen.

Hange doesn’t bulge, as though she had been glued to the chair right beside him, and she stares. Intently. Levi can practically feel the force of that stare on the back of his head.

And when it becomes too unbearable even for him, he sighs, shifts a bit in his seat, tilts his head upwards to meet Hange’s eyes and asks a pointless, “What?”

Giddy that her ruse had worked, Hange moves closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. She does so without his consent, without so much as mumbling a question. She invades his personal space like it isn’t much of an obstacle to her, like for her - it does not even exist. She always does it, and for some reason that Levi fears to find – he always lets her.

And Hange’s insolence, unfortunately, does not stop there. No, it grows, evolves, and so she gets even closer, and before Levi can utter a single sound of protest or, at least, throw at her a dirty look that will prove to be absolutely useless against her lack of manners, she unceremoniously, downright shamelessly, throws her legs onto his lap.  

“Petra,” she whispers, embracing him with both the retching stench of beer and intoxicating heat of her body, “fancies you.”

Levi stays put – against his better judgment, despite all the warnings that are blasting in his head louder than the bells that announce the opening of gates that lead to the dangers of the world beyond the walls. He doesn’t kick Hange, doesn’t even curse, he stays put – because he has to. Because otherwise Hange’ll think him weak. Or, worse, she’ll get ideas, funny ones. And, clearly, she has too many of them already.

“And you know this how?” he asks, again – against his better judgment.

Hange throws her head back and laughs – loudly, and, Levi thinks, a bit wickedly.

“Because I have eyes, silly. And only a blind would miss the looks she constantly throws at you. Gods, the girl wants you to devour her. Or, maybe, she intends on doing the devouring—”

The thought, the mental image that Hange so effectively painted in his head stirs an unpleasant feeling in Levi. His insides churn uncomfortably, like he’s about to puke. The thought is… a troubling one. Petra is a nice girl, a pretty one, there is absolutely no denying that. One, as Hange had put it, would have to be completely blind not to know that. And, despite what some may say about him, Levi, in fact, is not blind to the appearances of others.

However, viewing Petra in that particular regard has never occurred to him. Not even once has it crossed his mind.

Petra is a member of his squad, she’s his subordinate, she’s someone that he was entrusted to teach, guide and – if possible – protect. That is his duty, one he tries very hard to fulfill. And, no matter how beautiful she is, he can’t see her as anyone else, rather than his subordinate.

“Aww,” Hange places her head on his shoulder, and steals his cup, taking a generous sip from it, while Levi is too busy debating his next move. Should he be the responsible one, throw the drunken idiot over his shoulder and carry that embarrassment back to her room before she makes an even bigger fool out of herself, or should he simply kick her down to the floor and leave before she manages to stand up straight enough to follow after him? “You don’t like her?”

Levi doesn’t give an answer, although it seems that Hange doesn’t actually need one. She takes another gulp of beer, puts the cup back down on the table with enough force that the table rattles and the liquid splashes all around, and launches into a rant that is surprisingly passionate – especially considering that its subject has nothing to do with her beloved Titans.

“Why don’t you like Petra back? She is amazing! Kind, and smart, and cute, and skilled, and so, so graceful! Honestly, among all of our comrades, she’s like an angel, an actual ray of light amidst all these horrors! Most would kill to get us lucky as you are!”

“So why are you still here?” Levi drawls, glancing at Hange from the corner of his eyes. She looks absolutely wild – with cheeks flashed, glasses askew and practically slipping down her nose and hair in more state of disarray than Levi ever remembers seeing. Hange is a mess personified, a compilation of everything Levi despises combined in one single person, and yet – for some reason, he finds that he cannot find the strength to look away from the radiant spectacle in front of him. “If you like her so, why sit here with me, if you can go and woo her?”

“I just told you! She sees no one but you. And besides,” Hange’s voice grows quiet, her whole demeanor dims, becomes more timid, as her cheeks get just a bit redder than before and she mumbles, “She’s not really my type, you know?”

“Hm,” Levi nods, and – because teasing can go both ways, and, that, without a doubt, what Hange absolutely deserves for all her mocking – adds. “You must really not like her then.”

“Eh? Why would you say that? Just because I don’t like her in that way, I—”

“Because you sit here,” Levi says, interrupting what almost surely would have turned into another infuriating word vomit. “Practically draped all over me, while Petra is in the very same room. What would she think when she sees us like that, huh?”

Hange opens her mouth, blinks a few times, her gaze rapidly shifting between Levi’s face and the corner that Petra and other members of his squad are occupying. She looks so damn clueless in that moment, in equal parts confused and ashamed that Levi can’t help but revel in the lost expression on her face.

Not many are able to stun Hange Zoe into silence, after all.

“Oh… I… I didn’t think of that.”

“Yeah, you’re shit at this kind of thing.”

Hange begins to pull away, nearly gets to her feet – or, well, at least, she tries to. Levi doesn’t let her, though, and instead wraps an arm around her waist, bringing her even closer to him. Hange doesn’t try to wiggle out of his hold, and – strangely – doesn’t even comment on their rather curious position. She stays still and silent, absorbed in thought.

Whatever it is that’s going through her genius mind right now, Levi doesn’t particularly wish to know.

Hange is quiet, Hange was beaten at her own game by none other than him, and what’s most important – she’s right next to him, wrapped securely in the circle of his arms.

Levi can’t help but enjoy it, delight in this brief moment of peace. It’s not often that life grants him a chance to taste what real joy feels like.

But it’s Hange fucking Zoe that is with him. So, naturally, that peace is laughably short-lived.

She starts squirming, but not with intent to leave, as Levi immediately begins to fear. Instead, she just tilts her face up and searches for his eyes, holding his gaze, when she finds them.

“Say, Levi,” she begins in a tone that can – and definitely does – mean trouble. “If you weren’t sitting with me right now, but, let’s say, with Petra, would you still—”

Levi clicks his tongue and cuts Hange off before this nonsense goes far enough to ruin the moment entirely.

“Shut up, four-eyes,” he grunts curtly, but – without even a hint of malice that his words intended. “Let’s just… stay like this. Preferably, in silence.”

As much as he enjoys the sound of her voice – and he does, although he’d never admit it to her face, there is enough ruckus in the room without Hange’s insistent blabbering adding to the chaos.

She throws a curious look at him, but, thankfully, doesn’t argue. She snuggles closer to him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

Levi swallows a content sigh. This… this feels nice.

Whatever is that type that Hange had mentioned, he isn’t sure he has one. But what he’s absolutely sure of is that he likes this – having Hange so close to him that he can feel the warmth radiating from her body. Even the smell of sweat she hasn’t washed off for god knows how long and the inescapable stench of beer that hangs all over her like a particularly nasty cloud cannot sour this moment for Levi. And if it were Petra in her place, or Nifa, Nanaba, Mike, or any other man or woman, Levi is sure none of them could make him feel so warm, so at peace with just their presence.

“Someday,” Hange murmurs, as she absentmindedly picks at the fabric of his shirt. She sounds sleepy, Levi can’t help but note. It seems like he’ll have no choice but carry her to her room, after all. But – later, just a bit later. This moment is way too precious for him to cut it off so soon. “We’ll have to talk about—” Hange gestures vaguely – “this whole thing. But – not today. Not when I’m so drunk. I want,” she looks up again, meeting his eyes with a smile that snatches Levi’s breath right out of his lungs, “to be sober when I say this to you. I want to remember how your face looks when you hear it.”

What is that thing that Hange to say to him? What is it that she so badly wants him to hear?

Whatever it is, Levi wants Hange to say it. He wants to hear it. And – there are some things he needs to tell Hange too. Things – that for now – he’s afraid to reveal even to himself.

And when – or if – the time for such confessions will come, he wants to remember Hange’s face too. Down to every detail.

But now, it’s not the time to ponder on such things. Now, he has a drunken idiot he needs to take care of.

So with a sigh, Levi raises to his feet, lifting Hange along with him, not letting go of her even for a second.

After all, where would he be without his ridiculous four-eyes?

#see???? i've told i'm back hehe #levihan

[leclerc-s]

big reputations - part eight

series masterlist // previous // next

charles leclerc i've decided that this week i will be driving like a menace.

daniel ricciardo i see track terror is making a comeback this week.

max verstappen no more inchidents please.

charles leclerc mate let it go already. it's been over 10 years.

max verstappen admit you pushed me into that puddle and i'll let it go!

oscar piastri i see why the entire internet is convinced you two are secretly dating

charles leclerc excuse me? max verstappen they're what? sabrina carpenter lestappen is lestappening

daniel ricciardo to be fair, they think k-mag and nico are in love with each other, have been since the whole 'suck my balls' thing

daphne jones didn't we have this conversation already?

max verstappen that was in the other group chat

sabrina carpenter YOU HAVE A GROUP CHAT WITHOUT US? THIS IS TREASON!

oscar piastri OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!

charles leclerc THIS IS TREACHEROUS!

daphne jones oh grow up, it was started before you three were even in the picture. we don't use it much these days.

sabrina carpenter good. otherwise i'd throw a fit.

max verstappen don't you always?

sabrina carpenter i will make your life miserable verstappen

max verstappen you already do by existing every day.

lando norris MR. RICCIARDO ARE YOU OR ARE NOT A MASTERMIND?! THE TWITTER GIRLIES WANT TO KNOW!!

daniel ricciardo the hell are you talking about lando?

pierre gasly so you saw the same twitter thread i did?

max verstappen i completely forgot daphne had performed at the 2016 austin grand prix.

lewis hamilton huh that did happen

lando norris DANIEL ARE YOU A MASTERMIND?

logan sargeant was going to ask why but then i realized what the song is about.

mark webber i don't get it? what's the song about?

oscar piastri forgive him, he's uncultured.

mark webber that's it, no more sabrina time for you. oscar piastri sabrina said you can't separate siblings. tell him charles! charles leclerc yeah! what she said! lando norris wait a fucking minute, are you all together right now?

carlos sainz is that family thing working for you guys?

max verstappen it actually is. you should've seen the group chat after texas.

max verstappen on second thought maybe not. daniel ricciardo yeah, that's not a good idea. oscar piastri things were said by sabrina. charles leclerc well when you say it like that you make it sound bad. nothing bad was said, they're being dramatic. although, she might be in love with fernando daniel ricciardo you do remember the spa inchident don't you? alex albon they call him fernando rizzlonso

lando norris renamed daniel ricciardo

mastermind hilarious lando. truely.

lando norris you never confirmed or denied it. i took matters into my own hands.

pierre gasly question for sabrina, how does one get a song like nonsense written about them?

sabrina carpenter what an odd question pear gasly, i'd say by dating a singer? which is better for me because that way i can steal your girlfriend with no obstacles.

aelx albon she's a menace.

max verstappen THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING!

oscar piastri it's not that great of a song. i don't get the hype?

sabrina carpenter added one person

sabrina carpenter oscar's been disowned. he didn't know the words to love story.

charles leclerc max doesn't either?

oscar piastri what the hell are you talking about sabrina?

sabrina carpenter i saw that mclaren video.

daphne jones it's one song sabrina, let it go. this is not going to turn into another spa situation.

yuki tsunoda excuse me while i go scream into the void

logan sargeant wait for me! lance stroll and me!

lando norris daniel probably

sabrina carpenter lando with all of his teammates

lando norris man fuck you sabrina

carlos sainz what's the spa situation?

daphne jones you don't want to know, trust me. oscar piastri for your sanity, you don't want to know. daniel ricciardo please don't get her started again.

sabrina carpenter mr. sainz, you truly do not want to get me started. as i said before, i may not have been present for spa but i can and will bite ankles for oscar.

mastermind so who's free to go to daphne's concert in argentina on the 11th?

lando norris SIGN ME TF UP!!

yuki tsunoda I'M IN!

alex albon depends, can i bring lily?

mastermind of course! - sabrina mastermind that's my wife! - sabrina

logan sargeant ready to dance along to the fearless era

mastermind bold of any of you to think you have a choice. I EXPECT ALL OF YOU THERE! - SABRINA

mastermind love the name btw - sabrina

charles leclerc to quote sabrina, "i expect ass shaking for vigilante shit."

oscar piastri dear i god i hope none of you do that.

lando norris well now i'm going to.

sebastian vettel well she's certainly something.

max verstappen she's a menace.

lewis hamilton huh, sounds like someone back in 2016 to 2018. max verstappen YOU TAKE THAT BACK! lewis hamilton i don't think i will

mastermind JUSTICE FOR ABU DHABI 2021 - SABRINA

oscar piastri she just likes to stir the pot.

mark webber sounds like someone else and the infamous alpine tweet.

oscar piastri okay, that was one time.

esteban ocon argentina right before vegas? doesn't seem like a good idea to me but i'm in.

lando norris BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER!

jenson button so is daniel dating daphne or not?

mastermind that's a secret i'll never tell - xoxo gossip girl.

alex albon something is brewing i can feel it.

taglist: @glow-ish @agustdpeach @msolbesg @spilled-coffee-cup @1nt3rnetgf @six-call @smol-scream @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @tygecjjd @cataf1 @nothaqks @caipng @nataliambc @formulaal @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @hobiismyhopeu @melissayalene @nikfigueiredo

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! i’m back for 2024! i tried something different for this chapter and i think i liked it so i'm going to change it for all of the other parts, which is going to be a bitch because it's gonna take forever. it's also not that big of a change but i think it makes a difference.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #big reputations series #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x female oc #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

[findingcrow]

Can we talk about how breaking the burning bridge is for a second. Will goes off on his first-kinda-not-solo-mission and halt, who has come to love this fucking dumbass as his son, loses his mind for a little bit. He just starts throwing people into moats, and it gets so bad that Alyss has to go with him and he STILL THROWS SOMEONE IN A MOAT. And meanwhile, Will is panicking because his best friend and this random girl (who turns out to be THE CROWN PRINCESS) are RELYING ON HIM to get them out of danger. AND THEN HE HAS TO BURN DOWN A BRIDGE WHICH IS GOING TO BE USED TO TAKE OVER THE KINGDOM. And even though he’s never done any of this, even though he’s only been an apprentice for a YEAR, he does it without hesitation and SAVES THE KINGDOM. And then he gets kidnapped. And put in even more danger not only because he burned down the bridge, but because of a necklace he wears. THE GUY IS THEN SHIPPED AWAY. And Halt realizes what’s happening, he’s running so fast that he’s fucking up his steps- the one thing he was always trained to never do, and. He’s too late. No matter how many arrows he shoots, no matter how loud he calls, he never hears Will call back to him. Will can barely hear him. It’s over. Morgarath is defeated, but Will is gone, and the chance of his survival is so low that Halt is seen as crazy for committing treason for him. And Halt copes with the loss of his bright, kind, intelligent apprentice by making him a new bow. He cries about him, claiming that he was worth the tears. Will, meanwhile, only wants to go home, but because of the warmweed, he doesn’t even remember where home is. He doesn’t remember halt. He doesn’t remember the cabin in the trees. He doesn’t even care if there’s a future left for him. But Halt travels across seas, across countries, through every obstacle imaginable to get to him. And when they reunite, it’s been a year since they saw each other, and Will is just rambling and crying and hugging him and Halt cries too and god they make me sick

#“can we talk about the burning bridge’ and then continues to talk about both the burning bridge and the icebound land #sorry I’ve lost my mind #they make me sick #i love their dynamic #someone tell me to shut up #like seriously I can’t stop talking about them #rangers apprentice #john flanagan #will treaty #halt o'carrick #ranger's apprentice #books