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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

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wisdom teeth

words: 1.1k

warnings: dentist, blood

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

“ma’am?” the voice rings through the waiting area. your head shoots up, realizing that she must be talking to you.

“hi, how is he?” you question, slinging your purse over your shoulder and pocketing your phone.

“the procedure went completely fine. we are trying to place the gauze in his mouth now but he keeps insisting on seeing you.” the receptionist says, a slight blush to her cheeks.

“oh!” you say, eyebrows raising.

“follow me, please.” she says, leading you back further into the building.

“he’s being quite rowdy, isn’t he?” you ask, able to hear through the shut door the incessant questions, asking where you are, asking why you aren’t with him.

“some patient react differently to the anesthesia. it’s nothing we haven’t seen before, so don’t be embarrassed, doll.” the receptionist assures you, opening the door and letting you into the post op room.

“baby! there’s my baby!” rafe says, his hair a mess over his forehead, blood dry and crusted on his chin.

“hey, rafey.” you say calmly, hoping your relaxed attitude will influence him to calm down. “i’m right here, honey.”

you cross to his bed, glancing briefly at the dental assistants, one who looks annoyed that their clean up is taking so long, but the other gives you a sweet smile.

“you’re so pretty.” rafe slurs. “i love you.”

“i love you too, honey.” you coo, taking his hand, still slightly limp, in yours. “you have to let the nice women help you though. they’re here to clean you up for me.”

“you gonna kiss me when im all clean?” rafe asks, his lower lip pouting out.

you nod. “gently though, baby.”

“what did they do to me?” rafe questions, now sitting still as the nurses wipe away the blood on his chin.

“they just took your wisdom teeth out. they were hurting you but you’ll feel all better now.” you explain softly, petting his hand and arm to calm him as the nurses continue to rub at the dried mess.

“open your mouth.” the mean looking nurse says, her voice too stern for your liking, but before you can speak up, rafe turns to her, a look of fury in his eyes.

“i will not open my mouth for you. i only do what my baby tells me to do, so fuck off.” “rafe, oh my god!” you shout as the sweet nurse cracks up. “watch your language.” “i’m sorry, but this girl was trying to flirt with me! she wanted me to open my mouth for her, can you believe that?” rafe asks, his eyes flickering between looking softly at you and glaring at the assistant.

“they just want to put some gauze in your mouth. open up and let them, sweetie.” “fine.” rafe hums, his brow scrunched together as he turns back to the nurse. “i will because my baby asked me to, not for you.”

you shake your head but smile when rafe opens his mouth, allowing them to finish cleaning up. you stay next to his bed, holding his hand firmly in yours.

“can i be alone with my baby now?” he asks them as the nice assistant tells rafe he can close his mouth now.

“we recommend waiting at least a half hour until the anesthesia wears off a bit more before trying to get him out to the car. we can leave you two in here, but try not to let him talk too much, it’s only going to cause his mouth to bleed more.” “that’ll be hard, but i’ll try. thank you.” you nod to them as they leave the room.

“rafey, be quiet for me, okay baby?” you tell him, sitting down on the side of the bed, stroking your hand through his hair to smooth it out over his forehead, back in its proper place on either side of his part.

“but i want to tell you how beautiful you are and how much i love you and how much i wanna marry you one day and how much i lov-” “thank you, rafe.” you cut him off. “you can tell me all that real soon, but for now you have to be quiet so your mouth can heal, mmkay?”

“fine, i’ll stop talking. but you did promise me a kiss.” rafe says, and then dramatically shuts his mouth before puckering his lips.

“a gentle one.” you remind him, leaning forward and pressing your lips as softly as you can against his, putting your hands on his chest to stop rafe from leaning forward and deepening the kiss.

you pull away, but before rafe can open his mouth to complain, you kiss along his cheeks, then forehead, covering his face in soft presses of your lips to keep him happy and calm.

you tuck your chin into the crook between his shoulder and neck, stroking your hand over his chest as you cuddle up to him. “i’ll talk to you to keep you entertained, yeah?” rafe nods, nuzzling into your hair. you begin to whisper stories into his ear, anything you can remember to pass the time. tales your mother told you when you were little, or recapping movies that you’ve watched enough times to remember the plot clearly.

theres a knock on the door as you straighten up, calling out for the assistant to come in. she enters the room with a wheelchair. “time to go!” “yes.” rafe says, pumping his fist in excitement. “did you here that baby? its time to go.”

“i did, rafey. remember we are supposed to be quiet though.”

“thats right.” rafe nods. “im letting my mouth heal.”

the nurse laughs gently, wheeling the chair towards the bed. rafe is able to get into it pretty much without your help, but sends the assistant a glare when she tries to push the wheelchair.

“you’re gonna take me someplace without my baby again?”

“no, honey, she’s just helping us get to the car. and then i’m gonna take you home.” you explain softly, moving to walk ahead of the wheelchair so rafe can keep you in his sight.

“we live together?” rafe asks as you help him into the passenger side seat of the car.

“we do.” you remind him, taking the buckle and strapping it across his chest. you thank the assistant, who tells you again what rafe can and can’t do over the next 24 hours, before bidding you both farewell.

you carefully shut rafes door before rounding the other side of the car. you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek before putting the car into drive, thankful that its a short way home so you can get rafe laying and relaxing again soon.

you click the radio on, but rafe frowns and shuts it off.

“whats wrong baby?” you question. “don’t want to listen to music?” “no.” rafe shakes his head, an adorable pout on his lips. “i want to hear more of your stories.”

you let out a soft laugh before conceding. “of course baby.”

#rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron one shot

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luveline · 6 months

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omg i loved the loopy wisdom teeth one w peter 😭😭 can i get that with hotch, and reader, who's usually more reserved starts flirting with him and stuff while she's loopy

ty!! and ty for ur request ♡ fem, 1.2k

"Most people have their wisdom teeth out in their teens," Aaron had said before you went in, a Spencer Reid tidbit if there ever were one.

"I'm a special case," you'd said, accepting his kiss on the cheek but denying his half hug. "See you in a bit."

People often lament that Aaron's ended up with a woman so much like himself. You must make each other miserable, one ill-advised chancellor had said, to your amusement.

We're desperately unhappy, you'd said back.

The opposite is true. You and Aaron, or Aaron alone, at the very least, is as happy as he's ever been. Work is hard but manageable, Jack is well-tempered, growing smarter and kinder each day, and you're his sweetheart. You're reserved, a little solemn, but you understand him better than anyone ever has. It's a relief like no other to be known so well.

And so he has zero qualms looking after you for the rest of your lives. He waits patiently for you to come out of surgery, arms behind his head in the empty waiting room. He's worried about you. This isn't a painless procedure.

Footsteps echo down the hallway, but you announce yourself anyways in the doorway. "Handsome!" you say, a lisp to your happy sing-song, "I'm back."

Aaron doesn't know what to say. He giggles like a kid at your sudden demeanour and sits up properly. "Honey."

You wobble with the nurse at your back, prompting him onto his feet to take over. "You should remove the gauze in about half an hour when the bleeding has completely stopped. Clean daily with saline, there are instructions in the bag," the nurse says, offering Aaron a white prescription bag. "Okay?"

"That's perfect. Thank you so much," he says, taking your hand.

"You're perfect," you say, looking up at Aaron with stars in your eyes.

The nurse laughs softly as she leaves. Aaron doesn't bother hiding his amusement, grinning at you as he puts his hand between your shoulders to guide you to the front of the building.

It's busier here. Reception is hectic. Aaron puts his arm more firmly around you to stop people from bumping into you and you again look at him with your starry eyed gaze. "You're very tall," you say.

"I am," he says. "Though you joke occasionally that I'm shrinking."

"The only thing getting smaller is your waist," you say, poking at his abdomen, "my champion."

You're referring to his recent third triathlon success. He's no record setter, but it keeps him active and happy in the summer months, and he can't pretend you don't appreciate the additional definition of his muscle during this time. You like him every month of the year, of course, but with his trim waist comes a certain amount of energy you also appreciate.

"Completely inappropriate behaviour," he says lightly, waving a short goodbye to the receptionists as he holds open the door for you to pass by. "Next you'll be enacting PDA."

"You'd like that, huh?"

Hard to take any notice of you with gauze fluffing your words, and again, he laughs at you. "I'd love that."

"Well, wait, I'll do it right here–"

Aaron catches your hands mildly. "In the car first. Kiss after." Your downtrodden expression requires urgent care. "What, that's not okay? You're upset?"

"No," you lie obviously, glaring down at your feet as you wobble forward.

"Maybe we can wait until later, then."

"What?" You gawp. "You just said in the car."

"I'm teasing you," he says, taking your elbow. "We've been known to do that with one another on occasion. You know I'd happily kiss you anywhere you wanted to be kissed, honey, now watch your step on this curb. Watch your step. Good job."

You're extremely pleased by his praise, leaning into his arm with your head tipped back. "You're so handsome. Can you kiss me now?" You soften your eyes.

Alright, you have a little bit of bloody dribble on your bottom lip, and yes, there's this dazed look about you like you've had a mean shock, but you never look at him like this day to day. Perhaps in your more intimate moments, your arms around him when the lights are low, or early, early in the morning when you haven't yet remembered your more timid temperament. But it's so rare. It catches him off guard, how pretty and wanting you look.

Aaron leans down for a careful kiss, the barest of pressure.

"And a good kisser," you murmur, turning into his chest for a hug. "I love you, I want you to carry me to the car."

"Sweetheart, I don't think I can," he says. He's mostly kidding in the depth of his apology, but there are real threads of remorse in his voice, hot as a flame. "Come on. We'll go home, okay?"

"But you always do everything for me. Everything I ask for." You talk into his chest, likely leaving pink spit on the grey of his quarter zip. He couldn't care less, his arm around you, looking down with equal measures of fondness and surprise. "I had to stop saying I liked things because you kept buying me stuff. I love stuff."

"Then why did you stop?" he asks quietly.

"'Cos I know I don't deserve it. Don't deserve you, Aaron, you're the best man I've ever met. Can't believe it."

He savours your mumbling, and begins to walk forward slowly, encouraging you out of his chest as he formulates an answer for your confession with the same gravity. "You can't believe it?"

"You're a tall glass of water."

He actually sighs aloud. My girl, he thinks, rubbing your lax shoulder. "Alright. What if I thought the same of you? What then?"

You giggle infectiously, a stickying sound like you know he's trying to trip you up. "Nice," you say. "We should always be like this."

When he brings it up later, the extreme effects of your anaesthesia dissipated and your pain revamped, you can't think of anything worse. "I'm mortified," you whisper, your ice pack chilling the top of his arm where you've wedged it, your hand tucked between his thighs in an attempt to stay warm.

"I quite liked it."

"You would. You used to flirt with me so aggressively–"

"Aggressively," he repeats, grinning.

"–you're lucky I survived it." You sniffle, rubbing your nose into his sleeve. "Was I as intimidating as you are?"

He presses his lips to the top of your head, not kissing, just there. "No," he says into your skin, "you weren't intimidating at all. Just lovely. It made my day."

"I'll have to have my teeth taken out more often."

He snorts. "If you'd rather have more teeth pulled than flirt with me unaided, things are worse than I thought."

"Don't be like that..." Much quieter, "Will you rub my back again, please?"

Just like that, he's reminded of how much he likes your regular reserved attitude. "Sure, honey. Lean forward."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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antimony-medusa · 2 months

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Okay so, one of my problems with creator boundaries as an event runner is that it's impossible to keep up with them all, because they're being updated, and because so much of the time you learn them when they're reported to you, you weren't in stream yourself. So it's a game of telephone, and there's a constant issue that the message gets garbled in translation.

So the stance that I've taken as an event runner is that I will not be enforcing boundaries, and everyone can decide for themselves what relationships they're comfortable with. This seemed like the best stance for me to deal with the beeduo /p /r wars, and then I have continued to see many other smaller or larger instances where I've gone "yeah, enforcing creators boundaries as an event mod is a nonstarter, I'm sticking with that".

And I've been mostly concerned about issues like— I am not an avid watcher of Gem streams! I might miss things that happen in Gem streams, I don't know what the creator's exact boundaries are for what's okay to do in her vision. But meanwhile I've been over here in Phil streams, and I've assumed that I have known Phil's boundaries, because they get repeated SO MUCH. Everybody knows— no nsfw, and then we argue about if the only shipping allowed is with Mumza (the dsmp stance) or if his continued gay flirting with men on QSMP means he's okay with shipping with them (he kissed a man on camera on QSMP, for example). That is the received wisdom about Phil's boundaries, we all know where we stand and how we're interpreting things.

And I have been like okay, Phil doesn't want to see NSFW, I don't think he's reading my Ao3 history, maybe I will read the occasional pissa fic for fun. There are some good fics in the tag, you know. I will just keep it out of his sight, and the streamer doesn't have to know, right?

Cut to today, where I'm being kicked out of a discord server for bookmarking one (1) Phil NSFW fic. They sent me a clip to prove that NSFW was against the rules and why I was getting kicked. So I watched the clip in the interest of completeness.

flickr

And guys, when I tell you my jaw fucking dropped, because I do NOT agree that anyone should have asked the streamer this, but someone got him to talk about NSFW fan work, "weirdchamp shit", and he explicitly with his mouth says that he "could not give a shit" and "everybody lets out their creativity in different ways", and "ultimately it isn't hurting anybody", and as long as he doesn't see it, he's fine with it. As long as it's kept out of his stream he's fine.

So uh, guys? I know it's not like we haven't been cautiously creeping this way ourselves, just keeping it out of the streamer's sight, but explicitly, word of god from the streamer, I think Phil NSFW has been legal this whole time.

#philza #dsmpshipping #qsmp shipping #dsmp #qsmp

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dannyriccsupremacy · 17 days

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suburban legends | CL16

| charles leclerc x fem!exgf!reader smau

| summary : charles doesn't do enough to keep his girlfriend and when the internet finds out, they are less than happy.

| faceclaim : christina nadin

| part one here ! part two here !

youruser just posted a story!

yn, her bff, chloe, julia and amelia all sat at a cafe by the water catching up. their drunken plans from the club bathroom that night had turned into a reality, and they were all so excited to see each other- and follow each other on social media.

as they were chatting, giggling with each other, your bff suddenly gasped and scoffed.

"whats that for?" yn asked, slighting laughing at her antics.

"ex-o'clock." she said sipping her drink, "yours, not mine."

"what?!" yn exclaimed, giving her bff a look, "definitely him?"

your bff nodded, rolling her eyes. the other three girls were avidly looking at everyone in the vicinity, trying to work out which man was eliciting this reaction from the duo.

"brown hair, sunglasses, white shirt, two o'clock." your bff answered their unspoken question.

the trio's eyes landed on the man at the same time, and amelia suddenly went white. soon the other four's attention was on her, concerned.

"miels, what's wrong?" julia asked, placing her hand on amelia's arm.

"oh, n-nothing." amelia shook her head.

"no, honey, what's wrong?" chloe questioned, her curiosity peaking.

"i feel awful. i didn't know, i swear." amelia apologised frantically.

"know what?" yn furrowed her brows.

"he's the one i'm talking to right now. charles is the one i'm seeing. and yn, your the ex he isn't over yet." amelia blurted, cheeks turning pink.

"amelia... i am so, so sorry." yn apologised, a sympathetic expression on her face.

"yn! do not apologise. especially not for a man!" amelia scolded, laughing slightly, "i was going to break things off with him anyway. he is well and truly still in love with you."

yn smiled sadly, taking another glance at the man, only to find him already staring at her, love still shining in his eyes.

liked by lilymhe, sacreskin + 90,367 others

youruser bros b4 hoes 😉

view all 16,324 comments

yourbff words of wisdom

user omg is this about that one tweet??

ameliahobart bros 4ever

user in her post breakup popularity era

user yn is so hot

juliaverner marry me pls!!

↳ chloedarren she said no hoes maam 🚫

user i bet charles misses her

lilymhe no hoes here 🙅‍♀️

↳ alex_albon lily???

↳ carmenmundt get over yourself albono. sucks 4 u

↳ georgerussell63 carmen???

↳ youruser please no hoes in the comment section. read the sign.

↳ francisca.cgomes yeah scram

↳ pierregasly kika???

↳ user i love the unhingedness in yns comment section

amelia sat across from yn, a slightly embarrassed look on her face.

"look, yn, i really like you and i really want to stay friends with you, so i just really need to tell you this so i don't think that our entire friendship is built on lies." amelia blurted, causing the confused look on yn's face. yn nodded for her to continue.

"basically, charles hired me. i'm an aspiring actress and i answered a call he had put out for someone that fit my description. when i sat down and met him for the first time, he explained that he wanted someone to pretend that they were his girlfriend to make his ex- you- jealous." she explained, wringing her hands together.

"when i first met you, i didn't know you were the ex, but he told me to keep up the act with everyone since monaco is such a small place and everyone talks." she took a breath, "but then when your bff pointed out him as your ex, i wanted to say something, but i really liked you so i didn't want to ruin the friendship we had already created."

yn sat in silence as she took in the girl's words. "okay."

"okay?" amelia was nervous, "just okay? is that like a bad okay, or is it a good okay?"

"a good okay," yn smiled, "i really want to keep being your friend so i'm so happy that you told me now. i definitely would of had to re-evaluate the relationship if it happened later down the line."

"oh thank god!" amelia let out a sigh of relief, at which yn laughed, "but i do want to let you know that charles still truly loves you. like he would not shut up about how amazing you are. i have only heard his side of the story, but if i were you, i would definitely get back together with him."

"he kissed me in a way that screwed me up forever, then i broke my own heart because he was too afraid to do it." yn responded, thinking back on their relationship.

"sounds like you were born to be suburban legends!" amelia giggled.

"i think i might." yn grinned.

"now i did meet his friend lando... what's his deal?"

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff + 95,375 others

youruser our mismatched star signs surprised everyone 🤷‍♀️

view all 21,598 comments

yourbff pop off ig

↳ youruser slay

pierregasly at least he doesn't mope around anymore

↳ youruser aw honey you moped?

↳ charles_leclerc FALSE. LIES. MISINFORMATION.

user MY PARENTS!!!! ARE BACK TOGETHER!!!

↳ user NO LONGER A CHILD OF DIVORCE!!!

user i cant believe theyre back together

user honestly... i would too

ameliahobart the cutest couple!! (set me up with ykw pls!!)

↳ juliaverner dont manipulate them

↳ ameliahobart but i manipulated them together 😔

↳ chloedarren 🎶 cause [she's] a mastermind 🎶

user NATIONAL TREASURES.

authors note i literally took so long to get this part out i am so sorry!! but this will be the last part. a spin off may occur 👀

@allywthsr @sunny44 @coolio2195 @multi-fanss @babyliz43-blog @redbullgirly @smnthnclj @d3kstar @living-with-ghost @noonesgoneuntiltheyregone

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cindylcuwho · 21 days

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For a fic, Matt gets his wisdom teeth removed and forgets the reader is his girlfriend. And when she sees him after the surgery, Matt tries to tell her he has a girlfriend.

“ my girlfriends prettier than you ★ “

— ꒰ 🍒 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ꒱ whilst matt is still under the effects of anesthesia he wants no one to touch him but his girl. only problem? he can’t remember that the girl in front of him is his girlfriend.

— ꒰ 🐁 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ꒱ established relationship , use of y/n , nothing else enjoy reading ! 1016 words.

— ꒰ 🗯️ 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ꒱ i love these typa fics like stawpppp ☹️ idk if this is any good but lmk i love hearing from yall ! oh the queen did it first btw so read wisdom teeth removal - @freshloveee 💗

“i don’t wanna do it! y/n, hold me!” was the last thing matt cried out before the dentist took him to the back to start working on taking is back teeth out.

after an hour passed you were beginning to wish you had stayed in the room with him, whether it be for his comfort or yours. you weren’t clingy by any means, but you’ve never willingly been separated from him for this long.

both chris and nick left to the mcdonalds across the street, promising to bring back some food as they left you alone in the waiting room. the only thing to you could do as a distraction from boredom was scroll on your phone, and that’s what you did until the receptionist called your name.

“matthews done, honey. in the room down the hall and to the left, okay?” she guided you through. you nodded, giving a quick ‘thank you’ before walking down the layout as she described.

turning the corner, you could already hear matt groaning out incoherent nonsense. you knocked on the door, slowly entering the room in hopes of not disturbing anybody.

matt barely passed a glance your way, before going back to his attempt of removing the gauge from his mouth. you walked closer to him, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek to help comfort the pain away.

he instantly snapped his eyes towards you, raising his eyebrows with surprise. “where’s y/n?” he mumbled. “m’right here, baby.” you reassured. matt shook his head, swiftly pulling your hand away from him. “mm, nuh uh.” he disagreed.

you could only let out a laugh at this behavior, barely sure of how to respond from his claim that you weren’t you.

chris barged in the room with a crumpled bag in his right hand, and a medium sprite in his left. “he ready to go?” he asked, taking the straw in his mouth to sip. you nodded, interlocking your hands with matt’s to try and help him stand.

he was resistant, making a poor attempt at digging his feet into the ground to stop you from taking him anywhere. “babe, cmon. get up.” you finally pulled him up, using all your strength to help stand him up as chris walked over to do that for you.

matt leaned his head on chris’s should, “don’t call me babe! only my baby can call me that.” he exclaimed. chris gave you a look, lightly chuckling as matt whispered in his ear how much he missed you … even with you being right there.

with every sentence matt spoke whilst being dragged to the car, he made it apparent to mumble ‘and i have a girlfriend’ at the end of each one, passing a pure look towards you.

“matt, get in the car.” you sighed. he shook his head, “no! where are you taking me!” he cried out. “home?”

matt leaned back on chris, loudly whispering, “is y/n home? she’s gonna be mad if she finds out another girl is flirting with me..” you let out another sigh at this, pulling your boyfriend off his brother before pushing him in the passenger seat so chris could get in the back next to nick.

you leaned over the console to help pull the seatbelt over matt’s shoulder, but he slapped your hand away “my girl can fight, and she’s not afraid to.” he claimed, tiredly grabbing ahold of the belt himself and pushing down until a ‘click’ could be heard.

you playfully rolled your eyes, mumbling a ‘sure she can’, as you pulled out of the parking lot, following the directions your gps fed you. matt managed to stay silent for most of the ride home, keeping his heavy blue on the blurry scenes through the window.

“you need help? or you good?” nick questioned, leaning forward to look at you. you looked back at him with a reassuring smile, “yeah, go inside and see if we have anything he can still eat.”

nick complied, following chris who was already trailing inside. matt breathed heavy when he realized it was only you two in the car. “you okay, babe?” he truly looked stressed out- which was confirmed with a shake of his head. “what’s wrong?”

“i just want y/n.” his eyes became glossy with tears threatening to spill. your heart throbbed, you knew he was still filled with anesthesia but wasn’t made aware that he’d not be able to recognize that you were right in front of him.

“cmon let’s get inside, yeah?” you tried to lighten his mood. he watched as you exited the car, walking around the front and stopping in front of the passenger door, slowly opening it to not trigger any reaction he might have.

matt nodded you away, “no, lady, go get my girlfriend.” he demanded, “you’re pretty, but my girlfriends prettier than you, and i love her this much.” he stretched his arms as much as he could in the car space. a soft smile plastered on your face as he spoke probably some of the kindest words to be spoken about you.

“matt, baby—“

“no.”

“matt, i am your girlfriend.” matt looked at you in disbelief. he cocked his head to the side, as if he was trying to say ‘really?’.

“no?” he sounded confused. the whole time the kind stranger that he thought was hitting on him was actually just his kind girlfriend.. that was being kind.

“yes baby, it’s me don’t worry.” you grasped his chin, pecking a kiss on his cheek for reassurance. when you pulled away he brought his hand up to the exact spot your lips had been, letting out a gasp.

“y/n! i missed you!” he cheered. you giggled at him, “yeah, i had to hear about it.” you joked. he wobbled at the car, standing straight with your help, “oh.”

“gosh, i thought you were some weird lady putting the moves on me.” your arm was wrapped around his waist as you both walked to the house, “i know, i had to hear about that too.”

“oh.”

— ꒰ ☀️ 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ꒱ @mattscoquette , @itzdarling

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zzzzzestforlife · 1 month

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✏️ what no one tells you about how to journal 📒

i was sick of all the "how to journal" content out there recycling the same advice that sounds great but doesn't always work in the reality of daily life. you're welcome 😏 (also low-key a shitpost, but there are nuggets of wisdom in here, i promise 😇)

✍️ what to journal about ✍️

sure, you could journal about self development and treat your diary like your therapist, OR you could write about:

the pettiest grudge you're still holding onto from elementary school 😤

all the gossip about other people's lives that you have Strong Opinions™️ about, but you're a good person, so what goes in the journal, stays in the journal 🤫

all the witty comebacks you never say to people's faces because you're a sensible, non-confrontational person, but also you didn't think of it until later 🙃

the possibilities are endless, let your imagination run wild, and/or feel free to contact the blogger for more 🤭

🚫 when NOT to journal 🚫

this is just as, if not more, important as when to journal.

nothing to say — forget morning pages, i can barely string together a coherent greeting before lunch. also, a whole night's sleep is like a total memory wipe, so i have nothing to write about 🤷‍♀️ and don't listen to whoever says to just write "i have nothing to write about" because if you start enough entries with that, you're gonna begin to feel there's no point BUT THERE IS!! just not right now. and that's okay ☺️

too often — personally, i think it's important not to make journaling your one source of clarity 🔮 continue to think things through in your mind, confide in people you trust, and have moments (in nature, perhaps) that simply can't be transcribed to words 🌼

not feeling it — if you're too tired OR feel fulfilled and clear-headed enough about your day, don't make journaling a chore you have to do no matter what. if that means you don't journal everyday, then so be it 🌝

so when do you journal? in general, when doing so would add something to your day ☀️ whether that's peace, humor, gratitude, or something else.

🎁 materials 🎁

now for the fun part: let's go to the stationery store! 🛒

✒️ GET A PEN THAT WRITES SMOOTHLY! you are literally lowering the physical resistance that's keeping you from journaling, trust me it works. also pencils suck.

🔐 get a journal with a band, lock, clasp, button, etc. — just because it's fun, but it has the added benefit of securing your intellectual property(?)

have a separate journal for writing thoughts vs. schedules vs. todos vs. collections (TBR lists, recipes, etc.) — beats having to make and maintain a whole index to keep it all organized in just one (1) notebook 😵‍💫

🌸 stickers — are a pretty substitute for correction pens 😻 (in theory, but i have yet to use all the washi tape i bought 😅)

or just journal digitally, idgaf, do what works for you, okay? 😇

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duskiers · 2 months

Text

Distracted by You

> Percy Jackson / reader

> you try to share an ancient tale with Percy, but he's too distracted by his admiration for you to pay attention to the story.

‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵⊹‿︵🌳︵‿⊹︵‿⊹︵‿︵‿⊹︵‿︵

The evening had settled around Camp Half-Blood with a serene quietness, the kind that invited stories and whispered secrets beneath the twinkling stars. You and Percy had found yourselves alone, seated on the soft grass near the edge of the lake, the calm waters reflecting the moon's silvery glow. It was the perfect moment to share a story, one of those ancient tales that your mother used to tell you, filled with adventure, magic, and the wisdom of the gods.

As you began the tale, you couldn't help but notice Percy's gaze on you. It was intense, but not in the way you'd expect from someone engrossed in a story. No, his eyes seemed to be focused on you, taking in every detail of your face, your expressions, the way your hands moved as you spoke.

At first, you thought he was just deeply interested in the tale, hanging on to every word. But as the story progressed, you realized Percy hadn't reacted at all to the twists and turns of your narrative. Not even the dramatic moments, which usually elicited some response, seemed to register with him.

"Percy?" you paused, a smile tugging at your lips. "Are you even listening?"

He blinked, as if being pulled out of a trance, his sea-green eyes sparkling with something unspoken. "Uh, yeah, of course, I am" he stumbled over his words, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "You were talking about... um, the quest, right?"

You laughed, a light, melodious sound that seemed to make him even more entranced. "Percy, it's okay. You haven't heard a word, have you?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry. It's just... you're... well, you're really interesting to listen to. And to look at." There was an earnestness in his voice, a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

"I'm more interesting to look at than the story of Hercules and the Golden Apples?" you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, when you put it that way..." Percy's voice trailed off, and then he chuckled. "Okay, maybe I was a bit distracted. But can you blame me? You're... you're amazing, and when you're telling a story, there's this passion in your eyes, this... beauty."

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks at his words. Percy Jackson, the hero of Olympus, was sitting here with you, completely captivated not by the tales of heroes and gods but by you. It was a thought that made your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you, Percy. That means a lot coming from you" you said, your voice soft. "But maybe I can find a better way to capture your attention with my stories next time?"

Percy moved closer, his gaze locked with yours, and in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. "I think I'd like that" he said. "But for now, just talking to you is enough of a story for me."

#꒰ ঌ 🪧 ໒ ꒱#percy jackson comfort #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #yuh #percy x reader #Percy fluff

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leonw4nter · 3 months

Text

A Little Tipsy But Massively In Love

Husband!DI!Leon x F!Reader

“Honey, is something wrong?” you ask your husband. He’s been keeping a hand on a portion of his jaw, occasionally wincing and hissing; he has also been making repeated trips to the fridge, looking for anything cold to place on the part of his face that seems to be bothering him.

“No, ‘s fine.” he promptly responds as he shoots you a half grin, clearly in discomfort. He gets back to placing a cold bottle of water against his face, letting out a small breath of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding. Leon’s avoided talking and moving all day, just giving you a thumbs up, a nod or a few words which you find odd; he’s always been very vocal about what he thinks or feels so this is certainly a little new.

“C’mon honey, I can clearly tell something’s bothering you,” you softly say.

“It’s nothing.” he softly mutters.

“It’s not nothing. You’ve been holding your jaw all day. Got a toothache?”

He finally turns his head to you, finally nodding his head bashfully towards you. He promptly looks away though, training his gaze somewhere as the tips of his ears redden in embarrassment; he’s certainly experienced pain much worse compared to a toothache like getting shot or hosting a parasite in his body but something as minuscule as a toothache renders him unable to perform mundane daily tasks.

“Hm. I can check if there’s swelling in your gums. Is that okay with you?” you gently ask.

“Mhm,” he softly hums. You take your phone and turn the flash on before telling Leon to open up and to your slight surprise, he actually opens his mouth for the sake of opening it and doesn’t go “It all started on September 30th, 1998…”; this toothache might be a lot more uncomfortable for him. Sure enough, there’s a swelling and protrusion in a portion of his gum just right after the last molar. You finally tell him to close his mouth and he puts the cold water bottle back on his cheek.

“There's swelling. Let’s take you to the dentist tomorrow, it looks pretty serious. Might be a wisdom tooth thing.”

“Sure thing, doc.” Leon quips with a half-grin though the grin immediately falls back into a frown.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After scheduling a visit to the dentist, he deduced the swelling and protrusion to an erupting wisdom tooth which he suggested extraction. 3 days later, you two come back to the clinic. While waiting for your turn, you hold Leon’s hand and brush your thumb repeatedly at the back of his hand and give him encouraging words.

“Don’t worry, Leon. You’ll be fine, I’ll be right here waiting for you okay?” you softly encourage.

“And I won’t make fun of you if you’re still woozy from the anesthesia. I promise,” you add with a small giggle.

“But you’re giggling,” Leon points out with a pout.

“I promise! Seriously! Pinky promise!” you say once more as you lift your pinky finger, to which Leon links his own pinky with and gives you a small kiss to the temple.

“I’ll make sure to lug your 5’11 self to the car and drive you home, don’t worry. Just focus on feeling a lot better, mkay?”

“For someone who got their wisdom tooth pulled out eons ago, it’s a surprise you’ve got some words of wisdom for me,” Leon jokes which prompts you to roll your eyes.

“You have a hidden talent with these jokes so I suggest you keep them hidden,” you sarcastically say.

“Ouch.”

A nurse comes into the holding room and reads the last names off of her clipboard.

“Patient 5, Mister… Kennedy. Mister Kennedy?”

“Here,” he says as he stands up. He turns around and gives you a small hug. “See you later, hon.”

“Mhm. You can do this, Leon. It’s going to be just like a walk in the park.”

“Right. Just like a walk in the park.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

45 minutes later, the dentist comes back to you and informs you that the procedure went smoothly and they managed to get the tooth out without much trouble much to your relief.

“Your husband will be a little woozy from the anesthesia so expect behavior that is similar to a drunken person– slurred speech, nonsensical babbling, and slightly wobbly. He’s still asleep right now but you should expect him to wake up in a few minutes or less,” he informs you. He rips off a paper from his notepad and hands it to you, explaining some more things like Leon’s medications, proper care, and pain relief. After a few minutes, you walk into his room and see him still asleep; his right cheek was swollen, gauze stuffed in the inside of his right cheek. He looked a little funny at this moment, which caused you to take your phone out and snap a few photos for safe-keeping (maybe as a new contact photo for his number). Soon, he wakes up though he is a little dazed and confused at his surroundings so you help him through it. He must really, really be confused because as you help him put his shirt back on, he tries to push you away and do it by himself. His movements look as if he’s actively trying to avoid you, not even lifting his droopy eyelids to take a look at you, which you found a little bit odd. He did accept help from you, just very hesitantly; when you decided to hold on to his bicep, he pulled his arm away and almost stumbled down but you managed to grab him back and successfully managed to get him into the car without any other troubles.

While driving, you noticed that he would often steal glances from you through the rear-view mirror with squinty eyes but once you two met gazes, he would promptly look away. The situation felt a little funny: Leon sitting at the rear passenger seats, very woozy from the sedatives administered and him acting like a little kid; you decided to seat Leon on the rear passenger seats instead of sitting in the front with you in case he decided to act irrational whilst still not in the right mind, which could cause an issue with trying to drive home peacefully. You found yourself giggling a little bit but nevertheless you kept your focus on getting home safely, which you managed to do. After a few minutes of helping Leon and asking him if there’s something that’s bothering him and reassuring him that you’ve got him, you successfully manage to get him in your shared bed. You were just about to help him undress and take his shirt off to switch him into a more comfortable piece of clothing but he inches away and grabs your wrist.

“No… my wife won’t be very happy seeing you touch me like this,” he quietly mumbles as he tries to put on a serious expression but fails with one side of his cheek looking a little more round than the other.

“Huh?” you mumble.

“I’m a married man, miss. My wife won’t be happy and I’m not happy either.”

“Leon, what are you talking about?”

“Nuh-uh, miss. Only my wife can touch me like this, this is kidnapping… though you know where to bring me…”

“I am your wife, Leon,” you softly say as you tenderly pat the hand with his wedding ring and smile sweetly at him. You immediately realized that Leon didn’t notice that you were still there and very much his wife. It all comes together now: due to his disoriented state, he didn’t know that you were the one taking care of him this entire time and mistook you for another person, therefore causing him to avoid being touchy with you.

He stares you down for a bit, a cold and calculating gaze effectively analyzing and figuring you out but you can tell that he’s also trying to get himself together. The moment he recognizes you is comical– his eyes lighten up and a lopsided grin forms on his lips, a small amount of gaze poking out of his mouth. His next action pulls a loud giggle from you: he takes two fingers and places it against the pulse in his neck, blushing when he realizes his heart is absolutely trying to break free from the confines of his ribcage.

“‘M sorry, baby. Feeling a lil drunk, right now,” he apologetically mumbles whilst keeping that goofy grin in his face.

You place a kiss on his forehead before helping him out of his shirt, this time with him cooperating with you and raising his arms above his head.

“It’s fine. Good to know we’re locked and loaded in this marriage,” you joke with a raised eyebrow. Finally, you finish helping him with his other clothes and jump into bed with him. Propping two pillows behind you, you sit up and get into a comfortable position so you can read your book for the time being wherein you need to watch over him.

“My cheek kinda hurts,” he quietly groans. You shift to comfortably move to his position, looking at the cheek and trying to see if there was more swelling.

“Right here,” Leon points. You scoot a little closer to get a better look but don’t see any swelling.

“Honey–”

Before you could ask him how bad the pain is since you don’t see his cheek look a little more swollen, he gently cups your cheek with one hand and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose which causes him to hiss in slight discomfort due to his movement.

“Leon! It’s going to hurt more!”

“I need a kiss to feel better,” he retorts.

“You’ll get that kiss when we get that gauze out of your mouth and you can finally have some water.”

NOTE - Hey y'all I made it out alive of my 1 and 1/2-day school camping trip but I'm just rlly tired rn so I'm sorry for a lot of the errors that were probably in here (I didn't sleep the entire night... and I've been moving nonstop for the past 24 hours until 9AM of today...). Despite being really tired, I still had so much fun :)) We did zip lining, a rope and obstacle course, rappelling, and wall climbing (which i suck ASS at- like I literally fell and slipped like twice but dw I'm fine since I was attached to a harness; I was the only one unable to complete the climb in my squad 💀). There was a tree whose name literally translated to "deer balls" because the fruit resembles a deer's dingleberries... that was a little funny ngl. Also my cat went missing and I miss him so much please come back 😭😭😭 Anyways, that's it and expect my next fic to be camp-inspired since I came up with the idea whilst at my camping trip. Thanks for reading my fics, I appreciate it TONSSS. I <3 you !!!!

The heart dividers were made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x y/n #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #biohazard #death island leon #resident evil death island #resident evil x reader #rebhfun

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theemporium · 4 months

Text

here's the second instalment! i know i made the poll but i decided i was doing both options because i am indecisive, and i love max and trouble too much to abandon them

series masterlist

Max tapped his foot against the wooden floor, his eyes focused on some random poster on the wall of the cramped dental office.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like any of this. He didn’t like the idea that he was going to be put under. He didn’t like he wouldn’t be in control of anything for the next few hours. He didn’t like the fact that when he woke up, he would be woozy and unable to control the words that passed his lips.

He didn’t like the lack of control.

But the pain had reached a point of unbearable and he knew if he didn’t get this done, his mother would fly over and drag him into the dental practice by his ear—and that was something he certainly didn’t want. He would never live it down if journalists caught pictures of the three time world champion being berated by his mother like a whiny child.

He hated the fact his stupid wisdom teeth were causing this many problems in the first place.

“Did you know that thirty-five percent of humans are born without wisdom teeth?”

Max’s head turned to look at you, his brows furrowed together. “What?”

“A third of the human population aren’t born with wisdom teeth,” you repeated as you leaned back in your chair next to him, your knees brushing when you did. “Isn’t that weird?”

“I would say they are lucky,” he grumbled honestly.

“And in Korea, they call them love teeth,” you continued, ignoring the confused look Max shot you. “Because they start to come through around the age people typically experience their first love.”

“Does that mean it’s your fault I’m in pain?” Max teased, a hint of a smile on his face for the first time since he woke up that morning.

“Love is pain, baby,” you grinned back at him. “And did you know that the oldest record of wisdom teeth being impacted goes back almost fifteen thousand years ago—”

“What’s with all these fun facts?” Max questioned.

“It’s what keeps you calm, no?” You said, looking at him with a fond expression he was still learning to not instantly blush over. “You maxsplain all the time and it helps you relax. I thought maybe maxsplaining wisdom teeth would help ease your nerves.”

“So you learn a load of facts for me?” He asked, a giddy smile fighting its way onto his face.

“I did,” you said as you reached over to gently squeeze his knee. “I know you’re not gonna say it but it’s okay to be nervous. I’ll be waiting for you.”

He gulped, nodding his head slightly in thanks and you knew better than anyone else that the nod was his own way of thanking you.

…

“Trouble? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me, baby,” you grinned as you reached for his outstretched hand, trying not to snicker at the way he cuddled your palm to his chest. “How are you feeling?”

“They drugged me,” he mumbled out, his eyes blinking slowly as he ignored the dentist and nurses in the room and kept his focus on you. “Not the good drugs. The bad ones. I think they are trying to kill me.”

You snorted. “Nobody is gonna kill you while I’m around. Promise.”

“My hero!” He laughed, a little short lived as he seemed to realise the gauze in his mouth. “Baby, I don’t like this candy.”

“It’s not candy,” you said to the boy and watched as he instantly frowned.

“I want candy,” he huffed out.

“Max—”

“Trouble, they tried to kill me! I’m a hostage!” He said, sounding exasperated and you had to lift your hand to cover your mouth in hopes he didn’t realise you were laughing. “I at least deserve some candy.”

“I’ll get you some on the way home,” you told the boy, unable to even pretend to act annoyed as he cheered in his seat as his head rolled back.

“See, Janet!” He turned to the nurse who was standing on the other side of his chair and winked with both eyes. “Told you my good looks would work. She gave in.”

Janet laughed, shaking her head. “You were right, sweetie. You’ve got quite the catch there.”

Max sighed dreamily. “She’s the best.”

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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stararch4ngelqueen · 5 months

Note

jason getting his wisdom teeth out (or generally loopy on painkillers, like maybe post-mission or smth) and rambling abt how much he loves you and his life. adksjkfh sorry he's such a loser i love him to death

This was such a funny/silly idea I swear. Silly goofy cute husband stuff, I need this man 🧍🏽‍♀️

I did this draft at work and I didn’t have chance to look up reference videos, what you see is what you get 🌝

—

Time written - 9:18 a.m

—

“How’re you feeling?” You ask towards the large lump of a man casually sprawled over a majority of your couch, dressed in dark lounge clothes with a bandage tied around his right forearm. “Feeling alright?”

“Mm… No,” he answers. He’s still pretty loopy, his attention split between you and the ceiling above him. Maybe it’s the medication making him feel so relaxed, but he looks… content.

“No, wait. I- I’m fine,” Jason slurs, a faint smirk gracing his lips. “I’m perfectlyy fine.”

It’s funny; in an ideal world he’d be more embarrassed than he is, his words mumbled through small mouthfuls of damp, pink tinted cotton. Yet he’s so out of it he can’t care if you judge him or not.

Whether he would recall being hauled into an apartment elevator by Dick while you watched, probably secretly taking photos and videos would be a complete mystery.

Of all the ways you’ve had him the most vulnerable, this has got to be the best.

“How was work?” He mumbles, rubbing at his eyes with one hand.

Work? You question in your head, huffing a little bit. You rarely call in, but today was such a necessity. Thankfully you had an understanding boss, and an understandably reasonable friendship with the eldest Wayne son, who helped you carry such a large hunk of brawn and brain from your passenger seat towards your living room couch. You weren’t sure to play along or to break character to a play you weren’t aware you were involved in.

“Work was fine,” you say as you settle in between the slim spot available on the couch. He looks pretty comfortable there, but he probably would be happier in bed. “You sure you’re not in pain?”

“Mhm,” he grunts, closing his eyes as he tries to rest his head against the back of the couch. He looks as if he could fall asleep at any second, eyes half closed.

Jason looks up at you through slightly glazed-over eyes, his expression making it obvious that he isn’t paying attention to a word you’re saying. In fact, he looks a little surprised that you’re even sitting here next to him.

Something about you being so close to him is stirring up the medicated fog in his head. He can barely feel the stitches that he got earlier in his mouth, or how difficult it was to smile from all the numbing they’d done.

“You’re… right next to me.”

His murmured words are slurred, and they don’t make a whole lot of sense, but they make you smile.

“Yeah,” you reassure him. “Just making sure you’re feeling okay.” Of course—he thinks you’re so beautiful, where did an angel like you come from?

“Just rest here for a bit, alright?” Your hand finds its way to his, squeezing his hand lightly. “Think Dick went to go get something for you to eat. Or maybe Alfred made something for you. I bet you’re really hungry, huh?”

Again, he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. His eyes peered down to his limp hand, seeing your slim, tiny fingers cradled along his open palm. Your skin was so smooth, so—

“Soft…” He mutters, making you scrunch your lips to refrain from laughing.

“Jason,” you attempt again. “You heard me?”

“Mm.. Yeah.” His gaze flicks back to yours, his head raising just a bit as if a teacher abruptly called his name in the middle of class.

“You look, uh, pretty.” He says, blinking once. “Today. Right now.”

Once more, it took everything in you not to laugh, recalling Jason’s insistence that he’d be perfectly capable on this kind of medication last night.

Oh, you were incredibly aware that he’s dealt with various stitches and removing bullets from his body, broken ribs and resetting bones back into sockets. And death. Sure, he’s explained he’s been on hardcore pain medication plenty of times, and how much it would’ve sucked if he was allergic to any of them. He’s Red Hood, he’s handled so much, he could basically handle anything.

However, as truthful as you understood, seeing him in such a state after removing one wisdom tooth was so … funny. Their were hundreds of other amusing descriptions to describe it, but in the end, it was all so very funny, seeing him all giddy like a little boy holding his schoolgirl crush’s hand.

Even though you’ve been dating for about five years. With a year break in between, give or take.

Maybe it’s because he’s so out of it. Maybe it’s all the meds they gave him messing with his brain. As funny as it was, it was also a relief to see him so relaxed, not as tense as he usually was. Especially during off days when he’d insist he was calm and collected, but the tension in his shoulders never dissipated.

“You look so pretty… Your hair, your eyes.”

His soft comment melts your heart, making you squeeze his hand. “Aww. You think I’m that pretty, Jason?”

Jason nods, smiling lazily at you. You lean your head against his shoulder for a short moment, mindful of his slightly swollen cheek.

“I’m sure you already know that, but… Yeah.” His hand raises yours upwards, a brief flush of heat spreading across his face as he plants a weak kiss along the back of your palm.

“Mm… you’re so gorgeous. I wanna tell you every day.” His voice trails off, eyelids getting heavier by the second, nearly hiding his heart eyes from you. There’s no hesitancy in his voice, no doubt to what he says. Just a simple answer, simple truth.

“So, are you feeling hungry?” You try again, reminding him of what you said earlier. If he was paying any attention. “Dick might be here any minute. He might’ve brought some froyo.”

He has a quiet hum, glancing back up at the ceiling again. “Dick. Dick’s always so thoughtful, y’know? Not as, uh, as much as you though. He’d never be.”

You cock a brow, fighting back any amused response. There it was, something unusually unexpected that Jason Todd would say about someone he insists he can’t tolerate about eighty percent of the day.

Dick being thoughtful? You’re positive the man is now in possession of lots of photos and videos of Jason during the car ride home after the dentist.

“I’m not hungry… but I’d love if you fed me.” His voice is soft, just slightly louder than a whisper.

Your eyes widen considerably, finally releasing a giggle after so long. You gave it your best shot, but your response was enough to make your boyfriend lightly laugh. His face winces, a low grunt leaving his mouth as his hand cradled his cheek.

“Awww,” you take his hand, feeling a little guilty for making him hurt. “I’m sorry, handsome. You can’t laugh for a while, did that hurt a lot?”

Jason gives you his best smile, which is admittedly a slightly goofy grin as he shakes his head, putting on a brave front despite the pain coursing through his head. “Nuh-uh. Not at all… Your hands are so soft, babe.”

You resort to a soft chuckle, trailing your fingers up to ruffle and smooth along his hair. “Thank you, Jason.”

He’s slow to reply, clearly lost in thought with genuine, furrowed brows. If not for the medication, he’d probably kiss you right now.

The doorbell rings, giving you a chance to get off the couch and invite Dick in, who carried with him bags of food and frozen yogurt. Jason had no problem staying where he was, his eyes fully closed as his body sank back into the cushions, seemingly content with couch life.

“Catch him saying anything stupid?” Dick mutters to you as you ladle some soup into a bowl, hellbent on capturing any sort of evidence to use against the man for future purposes.

“Other than him believing I’m still his favorite woman, he thinks you’re a thoughtful older brother.”

“Oh yeah??” Dick chuckles, peering his head over towards the slumped man. “I’d think if roles were reversed, he would’ve left my ass on the curb.”

“Don’t be mean,” you scoff, playfully nudging him with your elbow. “You know he’d at least take you back home.”

“Inside a trash bag in the trunk,” Dick muses, casually leaning beside you on the kitchen counter. “You catch it on video?”

“Left my phone in my purse,” you shook your head, reaching into a drawer to get a spoon. “Stay for a while. See what happens.”

“Babe??” You hear Jason call from the living room. You peer your head out this time, seeing him fully sitting up from the couch, his head turned towards you with focused vision and deep concern written all over his face.

“Wait… weren’t you working today?”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x #jason todd dc #this might happen to me soon 🧍🏽‍♀️#how fun

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redclercs · 11 months

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

iv. you and me would be a big conversation

— the one where both of you have big reputations.

warnings: this one got a little long sorry, bashing towards charles and y/n (i love them ok), taylor swift references,2.6k words.

masterlist ✢ next

FROM DATF1GURL ON TIKTOK: "IS Y/N Y/LN AFTER CHARLES LECLERC NOW?"

[female voiceover]: ❝(...) while it is true she has a contract with Elix the new MAJOR sponsor for Ferrari—horrible drink by the way—rumor has it y/n's actual goal is to get the monegasque driver to spare a glance her way... Like, okay girl, but you left a 3-year relationship five minutes ago, chill.❞

IN pure Taylor Swift fashion, y/n y/ln has found her own ‘Getaway Car’ in none other than the 25-year-old Monegasque Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.

While nothing’s been confirmed, (come on now, what celebrity will just confirm rumors of their own free will in this day and age? Screw you, PR agents) the actress has been seen at two Grand Prix and the Elix contract gives her good camouflage for being constantly photographed with her new beau.

No matter how much sex-appeal these two exude, let’s not forget that we have a victim here: Aidan Kim. How can you leave a three year relationship with the man that gave you everything and not even two months later you’re already with someone else?

Is it a rebound or are we looking at something serious? In your humble writer’s opinion it’s most likely the former. And let’s not forget what Taylor Swift, in her infinite wisdom, said: “Nothing good starts in a getaway car”, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Ferrari.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim buys new home in Sherman Oaks.

→ Every celebrity present at the Miami Grand Prix.

→ Is y/n y/ln really done with RomComs?

May 13th, Los Angeles, California.

“ARE you sure this is who you want as your rebound, babe?” Victoria places the magazine down and turns her head to look at you, using the precise force and tilt for her sunglasses to slide down to the tip of her nose.

“Stop reading that garbage,” you warn, not bothering to change your position in the chaise-longue, you don’t even look away from the script in your hands.

The day started pretty well, sunny Los Angeles made you feel hopeful for the first time in a while as you opened the script Mildred sent you when you got back from Miami. A drama about a young widow. You can work with that.

“I just mean—” Vic shifts her whole body in your direction, “—You have options, what about Timothée? I’m pretty sure the Kylie thing is fake. And he wouldn’t say no to you.”

“Stop that, Vic,” this time you do look her way for emphasis, you mean it. “I’m not looking for a rebound, or anything else for that matter. I want a job.”

“Fine,” Vic makes a show of capturing her lip between her teeth to pronounce the “F” and lies back in the chair. “I’m just saying…”

You’re glad to be wearing sunglasses, so she can’t see the way your eyes rollback. To be fair, you’re at Vic’s house so she has every right to occupy the same space as you at any given minute. Which is all the time.

After the breakup you ran to Vic’s Los Angeles home and left the SoHo apartment to Aidan. Vic's house is amazing, with eight rooms, five bathrooms, a black granite kitchen and of course, the pool. But you miss New York, even if you can fit your own room two times in one of Vic's. At least, according to rumors, Aidan is moving out of the apartment so you might be able to return to it soon.

“I think it’s bullshit that they see me breathing near a guy and suddenly we’re dating,” you drop the stack of papers on your legs, startling Vic with the sound. “Bullshit.”

“It’s just tabloids, babe.” Vic goes quiet, knowing she’s annoyed you and now you feel guilty about that too.

“I know,” you sigh, picking the script back up. Suddenly you don’t like it that much anymore.

Of course you know it’s just tabloids. People talk shit just for fun, but you’ve been their main target for a few weeks now and you cannot wait for them to move on. Which seems unlikely.

You've never been more glad about turning down a Yankees game invite.

Following Ferrari’s disappointing Sunday and the respective mandatory Elix pictures, you hung around the Suite a little longer in aims of gathering your thoughts and the will to leave to meet Vic at another after-party.

“Hola y/n! I thought you’d left,” Carlos carried his bag in one hand as he struggled to put his sunglasses with the other.

“I’m about to,” you smiled at him, locking your phone. “You too?”

“Yep, going straight to the airport. See you in Italy?” he asked, running his now free hand through his black hair, all set.

“See you there, Carlos.” you waved him goodbye before leaning back on the couch.

Vic had apologized for the shenanigans she'd pulled the previous night, saying she knew she should have asked you instead of just running with things. So you were looking forward to the after-party, it would be fun to hang out with your best friend after making up.

It wasn’t even five minutes before Charles came out too, hanging up a call in his half-destroyed iPhone.

“Oh hey!” He greeted cheerfully, the bad aftertaste from the race wasn't evident in his demeanor anymore. They had their debrief and Charles was willing to let go of the negativity momentarily.

“Hi Charles,” your not-as-cheerful tone didn’t bother him one bit. “Are you flying back today too?”

You couldn’t picture yourself in an eight hour flight after everything they’d done today, but they’re not really regular humans.

“We’re driving to New York, actually,” his hand hovered over the refreshment table, until he picked one of the leftover Elix. Charles examined the black can he chose before speaking again, “We’re going to a Yankees game tomorrow.”

“That’s very nice, Charles.”

He hates Elix as much as the next person so you can't help but wonder why he drinks them even when the cameras are off. Carlos and you never do.

“Would you like to join us?” He offered, the last word deafened by the click of the can as he opened it.

You took a few seconds to process the question, long enough for Charles to down about half the can in one gulp.

“Thank you, but I’m flying back to L.A. tomorrow.”

Charles' mouth went down in one corner and you were uncertain whether it was your answer or the taste that caused it. He tilted the can making the remaining liquid dance.

“Maybe another time,” he added, downing the rest of the blueberry flavored Elix. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks for asking me, though,” you smiled, grabbing your purse from the couch. You had recovered enough energy already, and you didn't want to miss the DJ set at the party. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thanks y/n,” his mouth was still frozen in that slight wince and you shook your head gently at the sight of the empty Elix. “I'll see you in Italy, right?”

“I’ll be there.” you assured, although you hoped not. But a week didn’t seem like enough time to secure a gig.

YOU land in Italy the day the Grand Prix gets canceled. Which is very much just your luck. It’s for the better, though, safety must always come first.

It makes no sense to run back to America when you have nothing else to do, so you resolve to stay in Rome and catch up with a few friends you have around. Matilde Bassi being the best among them, and she would rather die than let you stay in a hotel instead of her house.

"I said no," she repeats, and her accent—although barely even there— reminds you of Charles for a split second, before your brain lets go of the image. "I've told you a million times to come visit, I won't let you stay in a hotel."

You give up after that because you don't want to annoy her. Matilde has quite the strong character, which is the reason she got to Broadway in the first place. After years of being in New York, where you met her, she decided to move back to Italy. Mati, still pursuing her passion, is currently the European public's favorite Juliet.

The fact that all of this goes down in a phone call gives you time to pick up what little stuff you've gotten out of your suitcase and check-out of the hotel before Matilde gets there to take you to her house.

─────────

"So, how are you doing?" she asks, refilling your wine before moving back to the stove, where she's cooking your favorite Italian meal.

"I'm fine, I've told you," you chuckle, sipping the drink. Her house is beautiful too, and spacious, but it feels homey compared to Vic's. "Taking it easy."

One thing you tend to forget about Matilde is how she is able to see right through your bullshit, and that's exactly what she's doing now.

"You never take it easy, y/n. And I mean how are you really? How do you feel? A lot has changed for you lately." she flips her head back to remove a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, "You can be honest."

"I'm fine, seriously, Mati," you know drinking so fast will make the wine go straight to your head but you'll do anything to avoid really talking about this. Which is unfair, Matilde is being genuine.

"You moved from one coast to the opposite and you're fine? What are you working on right now?"

You sigh, managing to smell your own alcoholic breath. "I'm with Victoria, and I've lived in Los Angeles before, while filming, it's not a big deal. As for work... I'm just– picking some stuff out, seeing the best options."

Matilde nods and turns around to grab two plates from the sky blue cupboards behind her. "Are you planning on going back to New York?"

"Yeah, hopefully," you get up to help her and she gestures for you to take a seat again. "My name was on the lease and Aidan is moving out of the apartment, according to People Magazine, anyway so..."

"Your apartment was amazing," Matilde smiles, reminiscing the girls' nights you spent together while she worked in New York, it was always so much fun to be with Mati. "I hope you can go back. If that makes you happy, that is."

She manages to carry both steaming plates and the bottle of wine to the table, and finally sits down. "Well, enjoy!"

"Thank you, Mati, this smells amazing," you missed Mati's cooking so much because no matter how many Italian restaurants you visit, nothing compares to hers, and you're also glad to have something on your stomach that will make the effects of the wine go away.

Or that's what you hoped for anyway, because you're halfway through another cup of wine, almost done with your food, when you drop the grenade you've left unpinned in your brain for 2 months.

"I don't miss him," you whisper, resting the fork gently on the edge of the plate, between two of the yellow flowers painted on it. "Am I a horrible person because I don't miss him?"

You gave it a lot of thought ever since you took the plane from New York to L.A. the night you said no. You thought—still think—there's something wrong with you because the feeling that something was ripped out of your life and the hole that it left would never be filled never even appeared. There was no hole, it was a scar already, and you picked at it trying to make it bleed. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.

"You're not a horrible person, y/n don't say that."

You're glad Mati doesn't let silence fall between you, it would have made you regret everything that left your mouth, but she's already reaching for your hand and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Mourning the idea of someone is worse than mourning their absence. And you had missed Aidan for a long time, even when he was with you.

"I just feel awful for leaving and not wanting to go back, I hate myself for being okay."

The rejected proposal is something you keep close to you still. You love Mati, and you trust her, but you cannot bring yourself to touch that subject.

Mati squeezes your hand, her food forgotten as well. "I'm glad you're okay. I liked Aidan, too. But you're my friend, and I love you and all I want is for you to be better than okay."

"Thank you Mati," it's her words that actually get the tears flowing, and you wipe them quickly with your free hand. "Sorry for dumping this on you so suddenly." you give a choked laugh before clearing your throat.

"I did tell you you could be honest," she laughs, giving your hand a last squeeze before letting it go. "How about we just go straight to dessert?"

You nod, grateful that she leaves to get the tiramisu you bought on the way home from the fridge so you can pull yourself together.

MONACO welcomes you the Sunday before the Grand Prix. Which you are excited about, for the first time in a while.

Matilde proves to be the best company once again, knowing her way around Monaco like it's her own home. You're glad she's attending the Grand Prix too and you were able to get her into the Ferrari Suite with you, unlike your failed attempt at Miami with Vic.

One thing you find out about Monaco pretty soon, is that they're obsessed with Charles Leclerc. He's in buses and billboards and you can see people waiting to catch a glimpse of him outside grocery stores. It warms you up inside that he's so loved in his own country, not many people can relate.

You don't love, however, that the articles online have brought attention to your presence in Monaco too. And although it’s far less than the one Charles gets for obvious reasons, the heat that comes from it is closer to ire than affection.

Still, you take photos with those who ask on your way back from dinner with Mati and ignore the “you’re here for your boyfriend, huh?” Questions that come from people with their cameras millimeters away from your face. Saying “it’s not like that” isn’t worth the effort because it won’t work.

May 23rd Montecarlo, Monaco.

Mati is introducing you to other celebrities that attended the All-Stars game, when Charles comes back from signing autographs to the part of the stadium where you are. He's messy, dirty and all dimples—again— which you start to find annoying. Although it's mildly sweet how he always smiles at you when your eyes meet, you cannot allow yourself to think of that too often. He's a nice guy, he's being nice.

"Hi y/n, I thought I'd see you until the weekend," he greets you, still drying off the sweat from the back of his neck.

You shrug, making way for a couple of guys who give Charles a bro hug, joke about the several mistakes he made during the match and then leave, acknowledging you in the form of a quick scan.

"Good game," you can't help the small laugh that follows the compliment, but Charles only smiles wider.

"I'm a natural," he replies, but takes his hand to the place he hit when he face planted. "Don't you think?"

"Definitely," you laugh again, raising both eyebrows. "I'm just glad you stick to racing."

"Me too," it's his turn to shrug, and run a hand through his damp hair.

“How was New York?” You look over your shoulder to Mati, who’s holding her own conversation a few steps away. “Did you have fun?”

“It was really fun, noisy, big. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.”

“Thank you again for inviting me. I do miss New York, but i had things to do.” You let the air out of your lungs hoping, albeit stupidly, he can’t see in your face that the things you did was read stuff on the internet about the two of you together.

“Oh you live in New York? That’s wonderful, so you know your way around. Lorenzo and I got lost.”

You chuckle gently. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Ready to go?” Mati puts an arm around you, smiling. “Hello, Charles.”

So it is true everyone knows each other in these circles.

“Hello Matilde,” Charles smiles back at her, “I won’t keep you any longer, y/n.”

“No worries, it was nice seeing you.”

“I’ll see you soon, maybe I can show you a place or two in Monaco.” Charles is very casual, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a heartbeat.

Matilde tilts her head and her ponytail falls into your shoulder, the small hairs tickling your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Charles.” You shake your head away from Mati’s and wave Charles goodbye as he walks by you.

“My advice,” Mati is still holding you by the shoulder. “If I may be nosy… You don’t want to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Charles Leclerc. You don’t wanna do that, y/n.”

You roll your eyes but Mati is unbothered by the gesture. “I’m not doing anything, Mati. He’s being nice, we see each other every weekend.”

“He is a homie hopper, trust me, run don’t walk.”

You tsk, making her shake her head this time. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not doing that, never, ever.”

And although you intend to keep your promise, the first thing you do once your phone is hooked to the hotel’s wifi, is google Charles and his reputation.

Even if you know better than anyone that the internet is full of lies.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! i really enjoyed creating this chapter, especially the fake media so i hope you've enjoyed it too. thanks for reading!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @majx00

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #cl16 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x you

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shadowshrike · 16 days

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Interfering with Halsin's Portal

It's pretty well known that there are a few situations you can get in where Halsin is well and truly angry rather than disappointed or worried, but I don't think a lot of folks know one of those situations is if you mess with his portal to the Shadowfell. It's a heartwrenching bit of acting. It's also fundamental to the plot of my in-progress fic Girdled Roots, so I figured I might share it with the other Halsin-lovers out there who have never seen it.

EDIT: Please be aware this is datamined dialog and may not be visible in game. It appears to be intended to trigger if the player attempts to enter the portal, which I don't believe is possible in the final game, or at least I couldn't find a way in the most recent version. Sharing this is simply to enjoy the incredible acting and get some plot bunnies moving, not to make any commentary about the game's canon.

Halsin's Initial Reaction

Halsin: No! Stop! Halsin: It's gone... that was our one chance. You've doomed this place to darkness! Halsin: I warned you - told you this was my burden to carry. Why didn't you listen?

The pure rage and despair is visceral. Prior to this, Halsin mentions this portal has been a century in the making, but he's so calm and measured (even upon success) that it is easy to dismiss just how much agony has plagued him as he hoped to make things right. This chance is everything to him. It has guided his every action for a century. It is a hundred years of work, prayer, and guilt to rectify the horrific fate of both land and people that came to nothing because a stranger he trusted refused to listen to him.

The portal breaking is the only time we hear Halsin speak the truth of its importance to him without a hint of emotional regulation. He is wild with pain. This man who is always thoughtful and slow to anger in the face of horror with the wisdom of age and suffering to guide him has become too overwhelmed to show any kindness.

Player response

The player is given several different ways to respond, and Halsin's reaction varies a surprising amount depending on how understandable their reason is. In most cases, he states that he needs to be alone afterward.

Option 1: I'm sorry - I acted on instinct. Halsin: Words won't repair what's been done to this land. Nothing will... I need to be alone.

You can hear the ache in Halsin's voice, but he's somewhat understanding of this response. He projects more sadness than unchecked rage. The player has admitted to making a mistake, and Halsin isn't the type of person who hold onto vengeance when an apology has been made, but he's not naive or people-pleasing enough to say "it's okay" or offer comfort either. The safest thing for everyone is for him to step away to grieve when there is nothing more to be done.

Option 2: I did all the work here - I couldn't just let you take the glory. Halsin: Glory?! There's no glory here. Now there's nothing here - only shadows and the total absence of hope. Halsin: There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.

Pure fury radiates from Halsin's response if the player focuses on the idea of being some grand hero rather than actually caring for the outcome. What the player did was an unforgiveable act, dooming everything that Halsin holds dear, and you have the audacity to complain about not getting glory from it. Again, he steps away, but this feels more like he's doing it because he believes you're worthless to reason with rather than because he needs a moment.

Option 3: I saved your grove - I figured it'd be best if I handled this as well. Halsin: We were this close to healing these lands. Now your arrogance has torn open the wounds once more. Halsin: There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.

Halsin is still frustrated with this response and unmistakably angry, but it's significantly toned down from the idea of wanting to go through the portal for glory. More like he thinks you're a self-important idiot than a truly terrible person.

Specialized player responses

There are also three special responses you can give if you have a particular class or diety.

Druid: I thought my powers were equal to yours. Halsin: It wasn't just power this needed - it was wisdom, understanding. I suffered along with this place for years trying to understand the curse... and it seems I will continue to do so. Halsin: There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.

Interestingly, he responds much more intensely to a druid than some of the other player choices. It might be in part because he feels like a druid should know better. He lectures the player like an Archdruid would initiates in his Grove, alternating between angry and explanatory, trying to get the player to understand why they were wrong and the sheer magnitude of their error. He ultimately ends in a much more resigned place here rather than personally resentful. Like a father-figure being forced through further life trials because of a child's foolish indiscretion. Frustrating, but inevitable.

Selunite: I trusted in Selûne to guide me through the shadows. Halsin: My friend - I wish you had trusted in me.

This is probably Halsin's most simple response with the least vitriol. He fully understands this answer, even if he's disappointed by it. The fact he calls the player 'friend' suggests a certain tired acceptance of this being a natural behavior for a Selunite trying to do good. We don't see this calm in other responses where Halsin was surprised by the player's choice.

Sharran: The Shadowfell is no place for non-believers - I couldn't allow you to soil it. Halsin: I should never have trusted an ally of the Dark Lady.

If you've ever taken Halsin along with Shadowheart in Act 2, then you know he is absolutely scathing toward her and her faith. He likely isn't as angry if a Sharran breaks the portal because it is utterly predictable. It merely confirms a truth he already knew and talked himself out of. That Sharrans cannot be fully trusted in matters of their goddess, even if one was good enough to rescue his people from the goblins.

#halsin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #analysis

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khami-the-raccoon · 6 months

Note

Hello!

It’s me again, the one who made the Will request(I enjoyed it :D I almost wanted to eat your writing). Could you write a Draco Malfoy x Reader but it’s platonic? Perhaps Reader is the DADA professor and like a father figure to Draco(But the Reader doesn’t know).

(I have no life btw.)

Have a great day!

Hello! Thank you so much for your request! I’m very very happy to know you liked what I wrote for your last request :) I hope you like this one as well, and sorry if this took too long (again)

Draco Malfoy x male! Teacher! reader (platonic)

Summary: Draco Malfoy x male teacher reader, in which Draco sees reader as a father figure. (Platonic)

Word count: 1053

Draco Malfoy Masterlist

General Masterlist

Part 2 Part 3

Y/N was a highly skilled wizard who had been appointed as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Y/N was known for his wisdom, kindness, and unwavering dedication to his students.

One of his students, Draco Malfoy, was a young boy with a troubled past. Draco came from a family of pure-blood wizards who had strong ties to the dark side. Draco wasn’t the kindest guy at school, he often would bully other students or make them feel bad about themselves. Y/N never approved of Draco’s rising behavior, but he understood it was some kind of coping mechanism for his problems. Y/N also recognized the potential in Draco and decided he would help him open up about whatever was troubling him and making him feel so bad about himself he had to take it out on other students.

One day, Y/N was watching from afar the students outside the castle, some were chatting with each other, some were playing soccer, and others were studying on the grass. It didn’t matter what they were doing, but they were all together with other students and their friends. Everyone except Draco, who was sitting near the lake, alone. Looking upset.

Y/N frowned, he didn’t like seeing his students looking down.

He made his way outside, to the spot Draco was sitting.

“Draco, is everything alright?” Y/N asked once he was with Draco, the blonde boy looked at his professor.

“It's nothing, Professor Y/L. Just some family matters” he said, not wanting to look weak in front of Y/N, as if he didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Draco, you know you can trust me, right? I'm here for you, not just as your professor, but as someone who cares about you.” Y/N said, sitting next to Draco in the grass.

Draco sighed, he wanted to tell Y/N what he was feeling, what he was thinking… but he was still scared… he was still a scared child.

“It's my father. He expects so much from me, and I don't want to disappoint him, but sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in his expectations...” he said quietly. Finally having the courage to speak about what was making him feel so worthless.

Y/N felt bad for him, Draco was so young… he shouldn’t be going through this. Y/N understood, this feelings of being worthless Draco was experiencing were the cause of his mean behavior towards others… he just wanted validation.

“Draco, your worth is not defined by your family's expectations. You have the power to choose your path, to be the person you want to be. And I believe in you, Draco. I believe that you can rise above it all and become a force for good” Y/N said in a firm yet gentle voice.

Draco said, his eyes widening slightly. He couldn’t believe somebody could actually care for him “Wait… how can you still believe in me? After all I’ve done to others?” He said, looking at Y/N.

“You’re young, Draco. We all make mistakes when we’re young, that’s okay. And you’re not a bad person, you just need someone to guide you.” Y/N said. He was a kind soul.

The blonde boy looked at him, he wanted so bad to hug him, to be comforted by Y/N. The man had always been so important for him. Draco felt Y/N was the only one that could guide him and make him feel as if he wasn’t broken.

“Thank you, Professor…” Draco said quietly, and Y/N smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright. And if you need my help, you can always come to my office, alright?”

“Alright”

For the first time in months, Y/N saw Draco smile, a real and happy smile.

Y/N felt a sense of relief and hope as he witnessed Draco's smile. He knew that this was just the beginning of Draco's journey towards self-discovery and growth. Y/N was determined to support him every step of the way.

In the following weeks, Y/N started having regular one-on-one sessions with Draco, providing a safe space for him to express his thoughts and emotions. Through their conversations, Y/N helped Draco understand that his worth wasn't determined by his family's expectations or his past actions. Y/N encouraged Draco to focus on his own values and aspirations, helping him discover his true potential.

As time went on, Draco's behavior started to change. He became more empathetic towards his fellow students, offering a helping hand instead of resorting to bullying. Y/N's guidance and belief in Draco's ability to change played a significant role in his transformation.

Draco's relationship with Y/N grew stronger with each passing day. Y/N became not only a mentor but also a father figure for Draco, someone Draco could confide in without fear of judgment. Y/N's unwavering support and understanding gave Draco the courage to confront his family's expectations and forge his own path.

One day, after Draco had a specially bad argument with his dad, he came to Y/N’s office, in tears.

“Oh Draco, it’s good to see you! Are you… alright…?” Y/N’s voice became concerned as he saw Draco sobbing.

“You had another argument with your father, right…?” The professor asked, and Draco nodded. “What was it about this time?”

“He said I-I was a traitor for not hating ‘mudbloods’…” Draco said, stuttering, Y/N felt so bad for him.

“I’m so sorry, Draco.” Y/N said softly, looking at the crying boy “but you’re doing the right thing, you’re brave and you have a good heart. Believe me” he said and smiled comfortingly. “Now, come here… I’m sure you need a hug” Y/N said and opened his arms.

Draco looked at him, shocked. He couldn’t believe Y/N was actually offering him a hug…?

Draco walked slowly and carefully to Y/N’s arms, as if asking for permission to be comforted. Lucius Malfoy, his ‘dad’ would never offer him a hug. But Y/N was different… he was kinder.

As Draco finally accepted the hug, Y/N put his arms around him comfortingly. And Draco felt finally safe and at home.

#male reader #harry potter x male reader #draco malfoy x male reader #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #x male reader #x male y/n #draco x male reader #fanfic

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valkyrieeeee · 2 days

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You have surgery | Han Jisung

ᑉ³pairing; Boyfriend! Han Jisung x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,

ᑉ³warnings; Wisdom tooth removal, dentist, Anesthesia, amnesia

ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon! Based on a true story (me!) Edited!

As the nurse administers the anesthesia, you squeeze the hand you're holding tightly, drawing strength from their steady grip. You feel a cool sensation spreading through your veins as the anesthesia takes effect, gradually enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and tranquility.

A wave of anxiety washes over you, but it feels distant, muffled by the encroaching haze of unconsciousness. Your palms grow clammy, and your breath comes in short, shallow gasps. He reaches out, His touch is barely perceptible, a faint brush against your cheek. His whispered words of encouragement are like echoes from a far-off place, reaching you through layers of fog.

"Hey, you've got this," he murmurs softly, his voice fading into the recesses of your mind. "I know you're scared, but you're the bravest person I know. I'll be right here when you wake up, holding your hand okay?" His words cling to your consciousness like a passing dream.

With one final breath, you faintly hear the words "I love you" as you close your eyes, letting go of your fears and surrendering to the gentle embrace of unconsciousness.

As consciousness slowly returns, you find yourself floating in a hazy fog, your senses dulled by the lingering effects of anesthesia. Your eyelids flutter open, revealing a dimly lit room swirling with shadows and blurred shapes.

Confusion washes over you as you struggle to make sense of your surroundings. The faces that hover at the edge of your vision are unfamiliar, their features distorted and indistinct.

Panic begins to rise within you, a knot of fear tightening in your chest as you search desperately for something familiar. Your heart races in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as panic tightens its grip around your throat.

You try to push through the fog, to grasp onto fleeting fragments of memory that slip through your fingers like grains of sand. But the harder you try, the more elusive they become, slipping further and further beyond your reach.

Desperation claws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to flee, to escape this nightmare world of shadows and uncertainty. But where can you run when you don't even know where you are?

And then, amidst the chaos of your mind, a voice breaks through the fog, a soft whisper that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of light.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," his voice trembles slightly, gentle yet filled with love. "It's me, Jisung. How are you feeling" he asks softly, his tone laced with a mixture of hope and fear.

"Who are you?" you manage to croak, your voice trembling with confusion and fear. The name 'Jisung' means nothing to you in this moment of disorientation.

A flicker of sadness passes through his eyes, but he quickly masks it with a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Jisung," he repeats gently, his voice tender yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Your boyfriend. Do you remember? We've been together for a few years now."

You blink, trying to process his words, but the fog in your mind refuses to dissipate. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your heart heavy with guilt. "I don't remember."

Jisung's expression softens, sadness passing through his eyes once again , but he remains silent, his concern evident in the gentle squeeze of your hand. As you slowly regain awareness, you find yourself in a dimly lit room, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

Your gaze sweeps the unfamiliar surroundings, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Where am I?" you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"In the hospital," Jisung replies, his tone gentle yet urgent, his words a beacon of reassurance amidst the fog of confusion. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, but you're all done now. Everything's going to be okay," he adds, his voice laced with a desperate plea for recognition, his eyes searching yours for any sign of comprehension.

"Maybe going for a walk might jog your memory," the nurse suggests as she walks into the room, her voice a gentle interruption in the stillness.

You try to sit up, only to realize you're cocooned in warmth, covered in two blankets and a coat. "What's all this?" you say, puzzled by the unexpected comfort.

"You got cold, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see you tremble, so I tried to cover you as much as possible," Jisung explains, a slight tremor in his voice betraying his concern as he gestures to his coat draped over you.

With the help of Jisung and the nurse, you slowly stand and begin to shuffle around the hospital corridors, the steady rhythm of your footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. As you move, the motion seems to stir something within you, coaxing snippets of memories to resurface from the depths of your mind. With each step, the fog of confusion begins to lift, replaced by a growing sense of clarity.

And then, like a dam breaking, the first clear memory floods back, washing over you in a rush of recognition.

You pause mid-step, a look of realization dawning on your face.

"BBama," you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I remember BBama."

Jisung's expression changes, a mix of surprise and mild disappointment crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a forced smile. "Yeah, BBama," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "He's a good boy."

You sense a shift in his demeanor, a subtle tension in the way he grips your hand a little tighter. Guilt washes over you as you realize the impact of your words, the inadvertent reminder of your forgotten memories hitting Jisung harder than you expected.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, reaching out to touch his arm in a silent gesture of apology. "I didn't mean to—"

But before you can finish, Jisung shakes his head, his forced smile softening into a genuine one. "It's okay," he reassures, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of sadness. "It's just... funny how memories work sometimes."

As you walk, Jisung's disappointment hangs heavy in the air, his silence speaking volumes as you navigate the hospital corridors together. You can feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts, a palpable tension in the way he holds himself.

Guilt gnaws at your insides as you realize the depth of his disappointment, the fear that perhaps you'll never fully remember the moments you've shared together. You want to reach out, to erase the hurt etched into the lines of his face, but words fail you in the face of such uncertainty.

Lost in thought, you suddenly remember a fleeting moment, a snapshot of a memory that cuts through the fog.

"The ferris wheel," you say, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you recount the memory that has surfaced in your mind. "It was a sunny afternoon, and we went to the carnival. We got on rides, and we laughed and talked for hours."

Jisung's eyes light up with recognition, a spark of joy dancing in their depths as the memory comes flooding back to him. "I remember that day," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "It was one of the best days of my life."

"You were afraid of heights and got scared at the top of the wheel. I kissed you to calm your nerves," you recall, a blush tinting your cheeks as you relive the tender moment. "And in that moment, everything felt... perfect," you add, your heart fluttering at the memory of Jisung's comforting embrace.

His gaze softens, his eyes shining with love and longing as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "It was perfect," he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing gently against your skin.

After spending some time reminiscing in the hospital corridors, Jisung helps you gather your belongings and leads you out of the hospital. He takes your hand gently, guiding you with careful steps as you navigate through the corridors and out into the crisp evening air.

As you step outside, you're greeted by the cool breeze, a welcome relief after the sterile confines of the hospital. Jisung flags down a taxi and helps you into the backseat, ensuring you're comfortable before climbing in beside you.

During the ride home, you lean against Jisung's shoulder, the events of the day catching up with you as exhaustion washes over you. Jisung wraps his arm around you protectively, offering silent comfort as the taxi makes its way through the city streets.

When you arrive home, Jisung helps you out of the taxi and supports you as you make your way inside. Once indoors, he settles you onto the couch, fluffing up pillows to make you comfortable.

"Minho hyung dropped off some soup for us. Let me serve you some," he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen.

As you sink into the cushions, the sharp ache in your jaw intensifies, signaling to your senses that the anesthesia is wearing off. Every movement sends a jolt of agony through your body, and you clench your teeth to stifle a cry of pain.

Your eyes brim with tears. Talking feels like shards of glass scraping against your raw gums, and even breathing seems to exacerbate the throbbing ache in your jaw.

With Jisung in the kitchen, you try to compose yourself, not wanting to alarm him. You take slow, shallow breaths, trying to find a way to cope with the overwhelming pain that courses through your body.

But despite your best efforts, silent tears slip down your cheeks, betraying the torment you're enduring. You press a hand to your mouth, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape, not wanting to disturb Jisung as he prepares soup to ease your discomfort.

Minutes feel like hours as you wait for Jisung to return, each second punctuated by sharp pangs of agony that seem to intensify with every passing moment.

Finally, you hear the soft shuffle of footsteps as Jisung reenters the living room, a tray of steaming soup in his hands. He pauses as he sees you, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with concern as he rushes to your side, setting the tray down on the coffee table before gathering you into his arms.

You cling to him desperately, unable to hold back the flood of tears any longer. "It hurts," you manage to choke out between sobs, the words barely audible as you bury your face against his chest.

Jisung holds you close, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. "I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'll make it better, I promise."

You cling to him desperately, your tears soaking into his shirt as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of agony. Each sob racks your body, a symphony of suffering that echoes through the silent night.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as he presses another kiss to the top of your head. "I wish I could take away your pain."

As Jisung holds you, he whispers soft words of comfort, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your suffering. You feel a flicker of relief in his arms, a fleeting respite from the relentless ache that grips your body.

Eventually, Jisung guides you to sit up, his hands gentle as he helps you into a more comfortable position on the couch. He retrieves the tray of soup he prepared earlier and sits beside you, offering you the spoon with a tender smile.

You try to eat, but the pain makes even the simplest of tasks feel like an immense effort. Each attempt to swallow is met with searing agony, and you can't help but feel a sense of incompetence wash over you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to eat. "I can't do this."

Jisung's heart breaks at the sight of your distress, but he remains steadfast in his support. "It's okay, love," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm as he takes the spoon from your hand and gently feeds you, " Let me help you."

With each spoonful of soup, Jisung's movements are deliberate and gentle, his fingers cradling the spoon as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He watches you intently, his gaze soft and reassuring as he anticipates your needs.

As the warm broth passes your lips, you can feel the tenderness of his touch, his fingers brushing against your skin with a feather-light caress. It's as if he's not just feeding you soup, but pouring his love and care into every bite.

Despite the pain that still lingers in the corners of your mind, you find solace in the simple act of being cared for.

As he continues to feed you spoonful's of soup, he notices the heaviness in your expression. With a playful glint in his eyes, he brings the spoon closer to your mouth but then pulls it away with a mischievous smile.

"Here comes the plane!" he says, his voice filled with playful enthusiasm as he mimics the sound of an airplane soaring through the air. He moves the spoon in a swooping motion, as if it's about to land in your mouth, his expression hopeful for a glimpse of your smile.

Despite the pain and discomfort, you can't help but chuckle at his antics. His determination to bring a smile to your face melts away some of the tension, and you find yourself playing along, opening your mouth wide as if ready to accept the imaginary "airplane" spoon.

Once you've finished eating, Jisung takes care of everything, cleaning up the kitchen and washing the dishes with meticulous attention to detail. He returns to you, draping a soft blanket over your shoulders and ensuring you're comfortable on the couch.

Then, he gathers you into his arms, holding you close as you cling to him. He wipes away your remaining tears, whispering words of love and comfort until your sobs subside.

"Shh, it's okay, my love," Jisung murmurs softly, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "You're safe. Just breathe," he whispers, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. "Let me kiss the pain away," he murmurs, pressing another tender kiss against your temple.

As your tears gradually subside, Jisung holds you close, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. He brushes away your tears with his thumb, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I hate seeing you in pain," he admits softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I wish I could take it all away."

You nestle closer to him, finding solace in his embrace. "It's not your fault," you reassure him, your voice muffled against his chest. "I know you'd do anything to make me feel better."

Jisung's arms tighten around you, his love evident in every gesture.

"I was so scared," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "When you didn't remember my name or my face," he begins, his words carrying the weight of vulnerability, "it felt like my world was falling apart. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of having you look at me as if I were a stranger."

Your heart aches at his confession, realizing the depth of his fears. "I could never forget you, Jisung," you assure him, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You mean everything to me."

A soft smile tugs at Jisung's lips, his eyes reflecting the love and adoration he holds for you. "Knowing that means more to me than you'll ever know," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you more than words can express." he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I'm sorry you're in pain. I'd rather it be me than you."

You lean into his touch. "You're my everything, Jisung," you whisper, your face close to his. "And I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else by my side."

As you lean into his embrace, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. And as he lulls you to sleep with soft murmurs and gentle caresses, you drift off into dreams, knowing that no matter what, you'll always have Jisung there to hold you and kiss the pain away.

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notbecauseofvictories · 2 months

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Hi Sarah, I'm going to visit Chicago in a couple of weeks and when I think of Chicago I think of you. What would you recommend I visit/do?

Unfortunately, Chicago is not its best self for a couple months---while I maintain that the city is for all seasons, summer is undoubtedly when it's most alive. However, there are a couple things I will definitely recommend for the unseasonably warm spring traveler:

(1) Eat some food

A friendly word of warning: do not be tricked into eating Giordano's or Lou Malnotti's. Perhaps your companions might try to win you over with promises of Chicago-style hotdogs---do not be swayed! You must manfully resist! (Harold's Chicken is that good though, and if you're close to the one in Hyde Park, feel free to devour the three piece dinner of your choice. Cheap bottle of the too-sweet wine I preferred as an undergrad optional.)

A much better option is to find a place that serves whatever food you love, but does it really really well.

Do you like sophisticated twists on a brewpub menu? Try Moody Tongue in the South Loop

Or are you really more of a tapas person? Highly recommend mfk in Lincoln Park

Would you prefer something a little....meatier? My favorite steakhouse in Chicago is Tango Sur (though I would argue their empanadas are really the showstopper)

There's nowhere in the city that does Hong Kong-style barbecue like Sun Wah in Uptown---I just stopped by after the parade for the Lunar New Year, the duck is to die for.

Are you on the West Side? First of all, do not go to Big Star. I mean, it's fine, but....come on. I'd pick Forbidden Root instead, or head over to Pilsen for Rubi's if you can't survive without tacos.

There are so, so many different bars I would recommend. Chicago was the home of bootleggers for a reason, goddamn it. Still, if you can't get to Wang's (look, I like Violet Hour too, but sometimes you don't want to drink in near-darkness), Koval (the rare distillery in Chicago), or any of the many, many craft breweries we have in the city right now, you probably can stop by one of the many, many, many bars we have in Chicago, and get a drink anyway.

There are more---of course there are more!---but we don't have all day. So instead I will leave you with this bit of wisdom: don't eat at Navy Pier or anywhere too close to Lincoln Park Zoo. If you are at a bar, don't settle for a burger when sometimes, the chicken tenders are actually better. And if you absolutely must go somewhere for pizza, choose Pequod's.

(2) See a thing

Chicago has many things in it! So many things! A hundred thousand things! Unfortunately, I don't know what you're into, so I will just talk about them in general.

MUSEUMS: I am a devoted museum-goer, and Chicago has blessed me with an endless feast. There are the big ones, of course---the Field Museum of Natural History, the Adler Planetarium, the Shedd Aquarium, the Museum of Science and Industry, the Art Institute of Chicago. However, my favorites are smaller, more unique: the International Museum of Surgical Sciences, Intuit (though it's temporarily closed, more's the pity), the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures at UChicago, the Lincoln Park Conservatory. That's not even all the museums in Chicago! That's not even all the museums that I've been to. It's amazing.

EVENTS: I once joked that I was a person who needed to schedule her enrichment like a blue-haired senior, but the joke was on me---I am that person! Fortunately, Chicago supports me in this endeavor by publishing many, many different calendars of "what to do this week or weekend". Do you want to see something onstage? Well, here you go. How about some classical music? I have a trusty guide. What about non-classical music? Always go to the Chicago Reader for that. Are you thinking of catching a game? Well, we're still in spring training for the Cubs and Sox, but the Bulls are doing okay even if the Blackhawks aren't, and we've got soccer (male and female) now too!

(Unfortunately, the Chicago Sky aren't playing right now, they're my favorites.)

OTHER: Unless you are extremely efficient, coming here and eating good food, doing one other thing, is more than enough. I promise it is! However, if you have more time, I definitely recommend just---wandering around. The Loop in particular is great for this, because it's reasonably small and everyone there is busy doing things. Going places, talking on phones, getting into or out of ubers, protesting outside of the Daley center, etc. etc. It's amazing to watch, and the buildings are pretty neat too.

Or you could wait a couple months, and take the Chicago Architecture Boat Tour, which I think should be a requirement for all Chicagoans. Maybe even everyone alive in the world. Just saying.

(3) Walk along the lakeshore

Chicago offers many delights, but I really do believe that Lake Michigan and its vast expanse of water, sky and space, is a unique gift to the city. It is beautiful in winter, in spring, in storms, in sun. It is free. You can sit in the grass or the sand or amble along its broad paths for miles, looking at unexpected art installations and waving grasses and the way the beaches slope to the water; you can talk to a friend or watch bikers and joggers pass you by. In the summer, there are a dozen different stands offering warm elote or cold soda, and cheerful men on jingling bike carts that will sell you neon orange push pops. In the winter, there are still bikers and joggers but also Canada geese, and you can stare mournfully at the slate grey water and ponder existence.

It is the heart of Chicago. Nelson Algren called us an "October city, even in summer"; Carl Sandburg described us as a shirtless dude who gives great oral. Personally, I think of Montrose Beach in the setting sun of winter, the sand almost too cold to touch---and beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

#city of the big shoulders

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