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#The angst I'm telling you
sysig · 2 months
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Roleswap(?) (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#ZEX#The Captain#As easy as this would be for a Setup - y'know lol - this idea actually came from an angst perspective#I mean - initially it would be fun and fine! ZEX gets his wish of a human! Doesn't have those 20 years of waiting and pining#Building up the idea in his head until he becomes So desperate that anything short of perfection is- Well hmm ♪#I just keep getting stuck on the idea of that common trope of ''What made you like this?'' :/#Or worse yet ''Did someone do something to you to make you like this?''#An older human taking advantage of a brilliant young VUX! Are there no depths to which they won't sink!#Nevermind that no one would listen and he becomes a martyr yet again but this time not the scapegoat#''Oh poor traumatized ZEX he really never was the same after that'' ''It's so unfortunate but you can't blame him too much''#As if any of them actually knew him at all huah#Until he speaks just a little too loudly about how he Wanted this he Reciprocated and it becomes too much of a nuisance to sympathize#The angst I'm telling you#He's in a very unfair situation no matter what! Either way he's being looked down on#Anything to spin things to be humans' fault! Anything to sweep deviation under the rug!#I wonder if he'd even be able to fight humans if this was the flow of things - would he be emotionally detached enough?#Would he even be allowed to? Worry of instability or defection? Is it worse to be disinvolved in the War with a mind like his?#So many moving pieces that would shake out so differently from just one chance encounter at a different time!#He's so integral to so many things having happened the way they did hehe <3 He's very important!#I also like to imagine that even being younger he'd still err on the eloquent side hehe ♪ VUX upbringing! Fanciful ♫#His usual speech but just a little more hurried and nervous hehe <3 Complimenting his human's hair ♪
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audhd-nightwing · 2 months
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things in DC canon i’ll literally never get over
1. dick finds out batman replaced him as robin (without asking him) from the NEWSPAPER and simultaneously finds out bruce adopted a new kid without telling him (to make things worse: bruce didn’t even adopt dick)
2. dick finds out jason died from the newspaper (AGAIN? REALLY BRUCE?) and bruce had the fucking funeral WITHOUT HIM while he was still in space
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days
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For those Titan's Tower AUs where Tim is all like, "That's Jason, so I'll let him torture/kill me when he pops by," what if Red Hood walks in on Robin being extra prepared. Tim greets him at the door with a smile, beckons him on over, and shows him the table of torture devices he gathered. It's almost like a kid trying to show their parent the amazing job they did in hopes they'll be praised.
"I wasn't sure which ones you preferred to use, so I grabbed a variety just in case."
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originalartblog · 1 year
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(domestic skk?? here???)
Sometimes it's hard to be vulnerable but they're working on it.
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thinking about how Virgil probably understands how Logan is feeling right now. how Logan feels like no one wants him around anymore, no one values his opinions, the other sides occassionally villanize him or act like he's the problem; and Virgil gets it. he knows exactly how it feels.
and that's why he doesn't make a big deal out of Logan jumping to conclusions about his present. it probably hurt Virgil to see Logan immediately assume that he didn't care enough to prepare a good present but in the end, all Virgil says is “and you thought I would just get you a newspaper”.
because he's been in this exact position before and in that moment, it was Logan who gave him some believable assurance that he is not unwanted, that his presence means something to the rest of them.
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so when Logan jumps to a conclusion and assumes that Virgil doesn't like him all that much, Virgil doesn't take it personally. he's just returning the favor.
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libraryofgage · 9 months
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Saw the Barbie movie the other day and Billie Eilish's "What Was I Made For" (click the song title to listen to it lol) hit so fuckin different good lord. Anyway, it's perfect for Steve angst with a dash of platonic Stobin and romantic Steddie fluff so ;)
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Steve is five when he learns that he was made to keep his parents together. At least, that's why his mother made him.
He learns it one night when his father is staying late at the company (before his mother started accompanying him all the time, leaving an empty house and Steve behind; Steve can confidently say his presence did, in fact, fix their relationship: it gave them something to unite against). His mother is three large glasses of red wine in, draped inelegantly on the couch and slurring her words with a glassy film covering her eyes.
"Steven, you were supposed...supposed to make him stay," she says, her fourth glass of wine dangerously close to spilling across the white rug. "An-and he's still gone! What did we do wrong?"
Despite the use of "we," Steve knows very well (even at the age of five) that his mother means "What did you do wrong?" He doesn't have an answer for her--he never will--and that seems to be just one more thing she holds against him.
Steve is seven when he learns that he was made to keep the family name strong and respected. At least, that's why his father made him.
He learns it when his father brings him to work, his stern expression and tense shoulders telling Steve to behave himself, to be seen and not heard the entire day (he did, and it worked a little too well; after falling asleep on the couch, his father had forgotten him at work, leaving him to spend the night in the locked office). His father is sitting at his desk, expensive pen in hand and phone just hung up after a tense conversation that ended with the most genuine smile Steve has ever seen from him.
"Steven, I hope you've been paying attention today," he says, placing the pen on the desk and fixing him with a suffocating gaze. "You'll be working here one day, and I expect you to make something of yourself when you do. You're to be a model man, someone I can proudly introduce to others."
When his father says proudly, Steve knows he means that he can't do that now because Steve has yet to make something of himself. Steve nods once, says a firm but not too loud, "Yes, sir," and his father goes back to work.
Steve is sixteen when he learns Nancy made him her boyfriend for...for a distraction? Because it's what was expected of her? Because she was curious? At least, that's what Nancy seems to be saying.
Honestly, Steve isn't sure she knows, either. But she definitely knows that he wasn't what she wanted, that he wasn't what she expected, that he couldn't live up to the expectations she had made for him.
Either way, he learned it over the course of their relationship, but it all hit him at the very end, when fights and names (idiot, asshole, and dick, to list a few) compounded into a breakup that left him aching, angry, empty, hurt, and desperate to know what he did wrong.
Maybe then he'd be able to save himself from making the same mistake over and over. Because it must be him, right? It must be something he's doing; if only he could figure out what that is.
Steve is seventeen when he learns that maybe he was made to be a shield. At least, that's how he understands the plan Dustin comes up with wherein he calls Steve their tank.
He learns it when they're huddled together at some point, readying to face demodogs and whatever else the Upside Down has decided to throw at them. Dustin is explaining the plan, his eyes bright as he throws around terms Steve can't recognize. "And Steve is going to be our tank," he says.
"What's a tank?" Steve asks, at least certain they don't mean the military kind of tank.
"Like a meatshield, duh," Mike tells him, the explanation short and quick and then disregarded in favor of the rest of the plan.
Maybe Steve should have felt hurt, but part of him is more excited by the fact that he could do well as a tank, a meatshield. He could, in fact, be made for that role. He's great at taking a punch, great at jumping back to his feet, great at putting himself between the kids and whatever wants to kill them.
The only way he could possibly fail at being a shield is by dying, and he doesn't plan to die just yet.
Steve is eighteen when he wonders if maybe he's made to love. At least, that's a realization he has after befriending Robin, getting tortured together, and learning he doesn't need romance to love someone. It's a realization he throws himself into wholeheartedly one day when he looks at Robin and sees her trying to drink a slushie with a Twizzler.
"I think I love you," he blurts out, unable to hold the words in and feeling bad for it when Robin subsequently chokes on Twizzler and Cherry slush.
She spits out the slushie, tosses her Twizzler into the cup, and spins around to look at Steve. "We've definitely talked about this, dingus," she says, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "You got amnesia or something?"
Steve rolls his eyes and pushes her. "Not like that. I mean, like, a friend. I love you, Robin. You mean a lot to me, and I hope we're still friends when we're 80 so we can make fun of other people in our nursing home."
Robin breaks out into a grin that she quickly suppresses. "Ugh, affection," she sneers, turning her nose up. It lasts all of three seconds before she glances at Steve from the corner of her eye and adds, "I love you, too, dingus."
Steve is nineteen when he decides that he's made for love, to give and receive and bask in its warmth. At least, that's what he decides when he's with Eddie, sprawled across his bed and listening to the mixtape he made for Steve.
They've been dancing around each other for a while up to that point: obnoxiously obvious flirtations, finding any excuse to brush against each other or share space or lean together, creating reasons to hang out with some as simple as "I'm just bored." Steve has been enjoying it; they both seem to understand what's inevitable, and they're just taking their time getting there.
And right now, listening to Eddie sing along to Metallica, Steve thinks that he wants to stop dancing around each other and dance together, instead. So, he turns onto his side, places a hand on Eddie's arm, waits until Eddie is looking at him with a bright smile and curious eyes, and says, "I was made for loving you."
Instead of the joy Steve was expecting, Eddie just looks confused. "How'd you know that was the next song?" he asks.
"What?"
"On the mix tape. I Was Made for Loving You by KISS. That's the next song," Eddie explains.
Steve blinks and frowns. He sits up, throws a leg over Eddie's hips, and settles on top of him. Eddie doesn't look surprised, since it's not the first time Steve has done this. Usually, it just means Steve wants him to pay close attention. "I didn't know it was the next song, Eds."
It takes a few moments for Eddie to fully understand what he means. And Steve gets a front-row seat to the confusion that morphs into understanding that morphs into amazement. "Oh," Eddie breathes, pushing himself up to rest on his elbows. "Could you say it again? I don't think I heard you the first time, Stevie."
Steve snorts but humors Eddie anyway. "I was made for loving you," he says, softer this time and leaning closer.
"Yeah, much clearer that time." Eddie's grin is wide and blinding before he closes the distance between them. "I was made for loving you, too, sweetheart," he whispers back, his words pressed against Steve's lips and searing into his heart.
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prythianpages · 4 months
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in a field of dandelions, I was so ready for the y/n to say the dialogue 'Don’t talk to me like that' and I was ready for it to hurt. az saying it somehow hurt so much more
omg I didn't even think of having the reader say the dialogue! so I wrote this spin-off i guess? or au lol of y/n saying the words instead, which starts as soon as they get to her apartment. you can read below! you can find the original imagine here
The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.
Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.
“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown.  “Does it hurt?”
“No.” 
You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh, even though you want to cry. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”
Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.
“Just let me see. I can help you.”
“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.
And as his blood drips onto your floor, you burst into tears because it’s all your fault. That arrow was aimed toward you. It was meant for you and if you hadn’t been distracted, maybe you could’ve protected Azriel. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He wouldn’t be trying to hide his pain. 
“It’s all my fault. You’re hurt because of me,” you voice your thoughts out loud. You’re crying, wiping hastily at your tears, but they keep spilling and no matter how hard you’re trying, they’re not stopping. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Azriel’s gaze softens and is bridging the distance between you both. The sight of you crying is more painful than the injury in his hand and he hates himself for every agonizing tear of yours. He uses his uninjured hand to coax your gaze to his. He wipes your tears for you and you blink up at him, finding yourself lost in his hazel eyes. They’re a beautiful fusion of earthy browns and grassy green and they ground you like a tranquil forest kissed by sunlight.
“This,” Azriel inclines his head toward his injured hand. “It’s nothing to me. I’ve been through worse and I’d go through worse for you. I will always protect you.”
“Please,” you’re begging and you close your eyes but you still feel his gaze burning into you. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Why?”
“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” Your voice drops to a pained whisper and Azriel has never beheld anything more breaking.
He can’t do this anymore. He can’t keep hurting you. His mate.
“y/n,” he calls softly, his gloved thumb brushing against your cheek. You reluctantly open your eyes. “You’re my mate and I pushed you away because I--fuck, I don't deserve you. I thought I was doing you a favor but now I realize, I only hurt you instead. Please forgive me.”
“I know you're my mate." You confess and his breath hitches. “I’ve known since the moment I met you. I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because–because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them and I can’t blame–”
Azriel gently interrupts you with his lips. They’re soft and warm against your own and you’re kissing him back with a soft pressing need. You feel him smile against your lips and the butterflies in your stomach are dancing and fluttering all the way to your heart. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. You’re able to appreciate his smile and you’ve never seen anything more beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.
“I owe you an explanation,” he breathes. “Where do I even start?”
You smile back at him. “How about we start with taking care of your hand?”
**the rest of the imagine would continue with Azriel still being hesistant to show you his hands but you accept him wholeheartedly bc who wouldn't?? <3 and it ends the same way*
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dootznbootz · 3 months
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Menelaus rambles a lot about not only Helen, but also Hermione. About how she used to say Olive like "Olifs". How she lost her first tooth running too fast and running into a low branch while out with Helen. How he'd sometimes wake up to Hermione leaning over him and poking his face to say, "Dad, can we go see the horses?" even though it was barely daylight. How she was much nicer waking Helen and how he thinks Hermione did that on purpose because she found "dad's face funny". How her favorite color was every color.
And Odysseus listens.
And he thinks about how his son only had a few teeth coming in when he left, teething on everything. How he could only say one syllable with his babbles. How his son needed balance to stand but Odysseus was so proud that Telemachus was very good at rolling over. How his son loved pulling at his and Penelope's hair.
How his son would be talking, walking, maybe even lost his first tooth by now. And he doesn't even know if he'll ever know his son's favorite color.
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kaszymanny · 2 months
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Stuff I posted on twitter
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uglypastels · 17 days
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Ridlington Park | regency!Eddie au | teaser
London , 1813 . A lady from one of the most fortunate families of the ton is in search of a suitor—much to her own dismay—and so she does everything in her power to ruin her family’s attempts at an engagement. But what happens when the one who truly charms her turns out to be the one person she can never marry?
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Do be warned, Dear Reader, for this story may contain: slow burn. forbidden romance. jealousy. pining. smut. alcohol consumption. swearing. OC family. horses. talks of arranged marriage. historical facts as well as trivial inaccuracies. Due to the adult nature of the story, this author kindly but sternly requires underage readers to pursue other works.
Chapter 1 Coming Soon
Correspondence | Author's Previous Works | Join the Readers (tag)List
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steviesbicrisis · 1 year
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Zombie AU where Steve gets to an unhealthy level of "it's my responsibility to protect everyone" because when the Pandemic started, Barb Holland was one of the first infected and he had to kill her as she was trying to bite Nancy.
Even if it was the right thing to do, the relationship between him and Nancy has never been the same and he promised himself he would never get to that point again.
For the following years he trains, takes the most dangerous missions, always makes sure to be in the first line to protect his friends and somehow he manages to survive despite always putting others first.
It all changes when he meets Eddie. Who doesn't expect him to jump right in front of the danger to save him, who gets mad every time he does so, who tries the best he can to share the burden with him.
And Steve, for the first time in years, dares to be hopeful about the future, to daydream a farm where he and Eddie could live together, to let go of the things he can't control.
Steve dares to fall in love.
And right when he finally believes he deserves good things too, Eddie gets bitten.
It was supposed to be a simple mission to look for supplies in the abandoned trailer park, Eddie offered to go since he knew the place better than anyone else, and they were so sure it would've been a simple one they let Dustin go with him.
It only took an infected who was stuck in one of the trailers to get him. Dustin is in tears as he tells Steve how Eddie jumped on the infected to protect him.
All the progress Steve made thanks to Eddie, learning to lean on others, to not blame himself for fucked up shit he cannot control, goes away in an instant. Because Steve should've gone instead of Eddie, he should've been there to protect Dustin, he should've been bitten.
Steve takes his decision quickly.
He sends Dustin home with Hopper, he takes one of the guns and promises he will handle the situation.
He goes inside the trailer as they're driving away, Eddie is sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall behind him, a knife in his hand.
When he sees Steve, he is ready to protest and send him away until Steve shows him his gun. Eddie looks stunned, then nods slowly.
Steve sits next to him "I'm sorry".
"It's not your fault" Eddie sounds so convinced Steve wishes he could believe him.
Steve takes Eddie's free hand in his "I'll stay with you until it's time."
"Steve, you don't have to do this-"
Steve squeezes his hand "Please, let me buy us a little more time."
Eddie quietly stares at him, studying his expression, and he knows him so well Steve wonders if he figured out his real plan. If he knows that Steve has no intention to get out of that trailer without him.
Eddie's eyes get watery and he can't tell if it's because he's scared of dying or because he knows Steve won't use his gun.
Finally, Eddie nods "Okay."
Steve nods back "Okay."
Eddie rests his head on his shoulder.
And they wait.
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essektheylyss · 4 months
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everyone wants to believe the Liam character constant is angst but in fact the Liam character constant is "is [character we are all deciding to trust] fucking us?"
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athenamineblox · 3 months
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Guess who I drew
Heaheuahua... Spinel.... (Again)
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drizztdohurtin · 1 month
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Rolan's First Day As a Father (blurb)
pairing: Rolan x afab!reader ("she", "her", "wife" used)
Okay, I wrote this in the "Rolan: fatherhood" headcanons but erm.... it got really long and turned into a blurb, so I'm releasing it separately so that I can add more actual headcanons to the post (I love when my own thoughts make my stomach hurt)
〚 Masterlist | WIP List 〛
Warnings: this is hella angst, and a little comfort, please buckle in
would recommend reading my 'deciding to start a family, and conceiving' post before continuing
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His attention had been only on you, a never-ending string of loving encouragement falling from his lips as you labored to deliver your baby; your strength and persistence only fueling his own, not allowing the anguish he felt from seeing you in so much pain to get the better of him.
The second he hears those first big cries when your baby is finally born, every single cell in his body is flooded with the parental bond he had been so utterly desperate to feel while you were pregnant. He focuses his attention on helping you get a little more comfortable now that the hardest part is over, praising you for how incredible you did as the doctor and cleric checked over you and your baby.
Rolan looks up with wide eyes to see the cleric carefully handing the newborn to you; a weary but thrilled laugh leaving your mouth upon seeing his beautiful red skin and adorable little tail for the first time.
Rolan goes motionless, staring at you cradling your newborn through the tears beginning to trickle into his vision. Time slowed as the overwhelming waves of love crashed into him - every single fear that he had while you were pregnant going out of the window, never to return again. He hadn't even held his baby and yet he already knew that if he had to take an ice knife to the chest every second of every day until his last day to protect him, he would in a heartbeat.
That night while you slept, he'd sit and rock his newborn, eyes full of adoration, tracing over every one of his features as he slept peacefully in his arms - trying to commit the image of his son to memory as if he'd never see him again.
He eventually works up the courage to gently graze the pad of his thumb over the baby's delicate features that mirrored his own: the light red skin, the bright yellow eyes, the black nails, the long pointed ears, and the tiny ridged tail that was barely the length of his own hand - wondering if his horns would be black like his, too.
If anyone had been watching Rolan at that moment, they'd see an expression of deep contentment and affection gracing his features as he traced his son's face - but then they'd see his smile fade, his eyes widen, and his lip begin to quiver as he fights back tears.
They'd watch as Rolan realized: this was the same sight his own parents had seen before they abandoned him.
When Rolan looked down at his baby boy, he saw the most perfect being in the world, the ultimate testament of your love, a blessing from the Gods that he did not believe he deserved.
And tears began to fall from his eyes as he tried to imagine it.
He tried to imagine watching the person he loved most in the world carry his child for months, laboring every day and night to create their son out of nothing.
He tried to imagine watching you go through hours of pain - pain that would bring even the strongest to their knees in surrender - to give birth to their son.
And then he tried to imagine looking down at his child and seeing anything but perfection.
He tried to feel hatred and disgust for the very being that he'd burn cities to the ground to protect
He tried to feel anything but unconditional love for the perfect angel that you had gone through so much pain to create.
And, obviously, he couldn't.
His head started spinning with emotions - the fire of his anger and pain being doused by the tranquility of his love and adoration for the tiny tiefling in his arms. He did his best to wipe his face without disturbing the sleeping boy in his arms, but it didn't work.
The bittersweet cries rang through his ears, momentarily erasing his own troubles, consumed by the singular desire to provide comfort - offering gentle kisses as he drew his son closer to his chest. He allowed himself to soak up the moment, gently leaning his cheek on his son's head as he rocked him back and forth - only realizing once his son's cries diminished that he had been purring.
Rolan had never been fond of that particular part of his lineage - though he had become less self-conscious about it when he had found out how much you loved it years ago. And now, witnessing how his body had instinctively reacted to calm his crying child, he had never been more thankful for it.
He softly pressed his nose and lips to the top of his son's head, giving him more gentle kisses and breathing in the heavenly newborn smell - before pulling away to look at his sweet face once again.
Rolan knew he'd always love him, that there was nothing his child could do that would make him stop loving him - and he promised this to his son in the gentlest whisper he could muster as tiny, bright yellow eyes peered back into his own.
He promised that he'd always keep him safe; that he'd always keep him fed, healthy, and warm.
He promised that he'd always take care of him and heal him when he was hurt.
He promised that he'd never leave him, that he'd never know the pain he felt growing up.
And Rolan took great solace in knowing his son would never feel the pain and abandonment that he felt as a child - in knowing that he would do everything for his son that his parents didn't do for him.
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samijey · 1 year
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Sami seemed to strike a big nerve with Jey last night
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decojellyfish · 2 months
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It's okay, love ♡
Hope you guys enjoy this one! Gaz needed a proper one, not just a drabble :) If you have any constructive criticism, please comment below! If you have any requests, or just want to say stuff to me, feel free to submit stuff!
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Harpee Hawk! Gaz x Harpee Dove! Fem! Reader Both of you are nervous on your first date together :3
SFW ~ An odd combination of fluff, then angst, then fluff again :) Warnings: N/A
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───♡───────────── Beginning You were waiting at the reserved table at the restaurant where you had planned to meet your date, fingers nervously fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. Your anxiety about being set up makes you glance at the time on your phone every 5 seconds. It was 2 minutes passed your agreed meeting time. You try to subtly fan yourself with your hand, nervousness setting in and making your skin slightly perspire and your white feathered wings twitch ever so slightly in anticipation.
Then you saw him. He came slightly rushing in, he knew he was a little late. You could see in his face. Although he was afar, at the entryway, you could see a slight glint of guilt in his eyes. He was scanning the restaurant for your face, but he spotted you because of your shiny, soft wings instead.
It made your stomach fill with enough butterflies to make a bug collector jealous with how his face suddenly lit up and he began to make his way to your table.
He spoke your name as he approached, almost in disbelief. He was just as astounded as you were as you took in each other’s beauty. It was kind of a brief awkward silence, which you two realized as you looked away from each other with a light blush dusted upon your cheeks.
“I-I’m Kyle.” He spoke, still in awe of your presence, as he held out his hand to you. You responded with your name, as well, and held his hand. You thought it was a handshake, although that would’ve been awfully business-like for a romantic date until he began to raise your hand to his face and he gently kissed your knuckles.
He looked at you the whole time, with you practically melting at the way his half-lidded eyes gazed into yours that were wide open at the surprise.
He then sat himself down in the seat across from you, “Sorry, love, f’ bein’ late. Traffic was complete chaos out there.” He chuckled, making you smile and laugh as well. “It’s okay, at least you showed up late rather than not at all.” You responded, adjusting the shoulder strap of your dress.
“Have you ordered anything yet?” “No, I was kind of waiting on you. I was just gonna wait until about 20 minutes passed our agreed time before I just ordered something or just went home.” You both laughed, a waitress soon approached your table and requested your order.
After you two had placed your orders, she left and you were left alone with each other again. You both stared at each other for a moment before he was the first one to speak up.
“You’re dress looks lovely. It goes well with your wings.” Kyle smiled, you could almost melt with the way his eyes shifted to the feathered protrusions in your back. His brown eyes began to sparkle with admiration before they returned to your face. “You look lovely…” He spoke softly, but loud enough for you to hear him.
You had never really made it this far when it came to a date, either being ghosted or stood up, or your date making you so uncomfortable that you say you’re off to the bathroom when, in reality, you’re booking it out of the agreed spot and going home. Something about the thought of someone caring for you so much that they would kiss you, greet you every morning, comfort you every night, and take you off on an adventure to experience new things together.
It felt so foreign to you. But with Kyle, you could feel the love radiating off of him. Honestly, it terrified you. This felt strange, weird, scary. Scary that you had never gotten this far, scary that you didn’t know what to do or where to go from here.
So you did what felt familiar.
You grabbed your purse, stood up, and spoke the words that felt like a safety blanket to you. “I-I just need to use the restroom for a bit, is that okay…?” “Oh, of course, love. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
He was oblivious, only an understanding smile appearing on his face. It made your heart almost shatter with guilt. But it was the only way you wouldn’t become an emotionally terrified wreck in front of the gorgeous piece of art that sat across from you.
Walking away from the table, you went in the direction of the bathroom, constantly checking over your shoulder to make sure he couldn’t see you before abruptly changing direction and going towards the entrance. You grabbed your coat, quickly putting it on as the host thanked you for coming to the establishment.
You didn’t say a word, quickly shooting a glance over your shoulder at the two-person table. Kyle still obliviously waiting for your return. You felt a burning lump in your throat, tears pricking at your eyes as you couldn’t bear to watch. You were setting up this man’s beautiful heart to be broken. All because you were scared of what actual love felt like, having been denied it for so long.
You swiftly left, already beginning to hiccup, and blinked back your tears. You didn’t want him to see you abandoning him through the windows, so you shot up into the sky and began to fly back home.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“They’re just in the bathroom, they’ll be out in a minute.” Kyle smiled up at the waitress as she served your food across from him. Once she left, he softly muttered to himself, “Hopefully…” before glancing over at the bathroom with a small sigh. He held his hands together in his lap, trying to calm himself down. It had been 24 minutes. Kyle didn’t know what had happened to you.
Maybe you were having stomach issues? But how could they have been so bad that it kept you almost 30 minutes in the restroom? The worst idea that he had popped up in his head was that you had gotten hurt in the bathroom and needed dire help. But that one was also the most unlikely, so he pushed it to the back of his head.
It’s been 32 minutes since you announced that you needed the restroom, he didn’t want the food to get cold. He took a small bite of it, surely he could explain once you got back that he didn’t want to eat cold food that had originally been served warm.
It’s been an hour and 3 minutes since you had left. Kyle had eaten part of his food, not even half of it. He was too worried about what had happened to you. Why you left him. He looked at the plate of perfectly untouched food that was probably cold now.
He was holding his face in his hands, wondering what he had done wrong to make you have this reaction, when the waitress approached him and asked about the bill.
“It looks like I’ll be the one paying f’ it huh?” He responded, defeated. He took the bill from her, quickly speaking up before she left him alone. “And can I get two boxes f’ these?” She responded with a yes and a nod.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
It wasn’t that difficult for him to find your address, he had just asked through the grapevine of people he knew definitely were in contact with you. He knew how creepy it was, but he just wanted to make sure you had gotten your uneaten food. That’s all.
Kyle landed outside of your townhouse, walking up the steps and knocking on your door. He hoped you at least had made it home safe.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
You were still sniffling from your crying session. You felt like such a fool for leaving what seemed to be a perfect man in the dark like that. You felt so many emotions all at once, even as you tried to compose yourself in your pajamas, and snuggled up in your bed as some pitiful attempt of physically comforting yourself. Shame, embarrassment, fear, confusion, helplessness, and frustration with yourself.
You nearly gasped in horror when you heard a knock on your front door. Tears rushed to your eyes, that stupid look you always developed when you were about to cry made its way to your face again. You waited, hoping, praying that whoever it was would just leave you alone.
But it came again, somewhat more frantic than the first time. It felt oddly like a ‘worried’ knock. You sighed, grabbed another tissue, and lazily tried to clean yourself up, this person wasn’t going, were they?
You got out of bed, your wings slightly twitching as they stretched out. They had been stuck in a position that was slightly wrapped protectively around you as you were crying. Your wing muscles were aching, and it took you up until now to notice how stressed they were.
Shuffling down the stairs, you just wanted to be left alone which was why you didn’t bother to look out the windows by your front door.
Your front door opened, Kyle felt relieved that you were okay, you nearly got a heart attack when you saw him on your front step. Here come those tears, already severely blurring your vision, obscuring his worried face once he saw you begin to cry at the mere sight of him.
“You kind of forgot your food, love…” He softly chuckled and handed you a styrofoam box, your shaky hands taking it. “You alright…? ‘M sorry if it was anything I said that made you feel the need to-” “I-I’m sorry…” You whimpered out through trembling breaths and uncontrolled hiccups.
Kyle looked at you, his eyes growing sympathetic as he watched how you just crumbled right in front of him. It made him want just to hold you, cup the back of your head, and whisper into your ear ‘It’ll be okay’. 
“I-I’m sorry for-... for just leaving you like that!” You desperately explained, your tears now already rolling down your face, down your cheeks, and down your neck. You didn’t know where to put your take-out box so you just awkwardly held it as you used one hand to wipe at your face.
He looked at you, taking a small breath before stepping into your home and gently taking the box from you. He set it down on a nearby table where you kept your shoes and a vase of flowers. Then he turned back to you and gingerly took your hands in his, looking into your red, puffy, watery eyes.
“It’s alright, love, I forgive you… but there must’ve been a reason you did it…” He was gentle with his words, they felt like a hug almost.  “Was there…?”
You sniffled and glanced up at him as you thought of an explanation. “I-I guess I’m just… just afraid of actual love…? As stupid as it sounds…” you sniffled, your shoulders quivering along with your breaths as you tried to calm down. You gave a small awkward, kind of desperate laugh.
Kyle softly chuckled, “‘Fraid of love…? That sounds awful…” he would gently plant a light peck against your knuckles. “How long have you had philiphobia…?” he asked with a small smile. This time, you let out a real laugh. Small, but real. “What’s that…?”
“The irrational fear of love…” His words were so smooth, soft, and velvety as he said that. It felt strange, but like a strange comfort, almost. You took some time to think. “Well, I’m not exactly terrified of it… more like, I’m just unnerved by the prospect of it…”
“Still, how long have you been bothered by it…?” You really started to dig deep into your memory, trying to figure out where it all began.
“I guess… I guess when people started to make a big deal about getting into relationships… I suppose all the way back in elementary, I just wanted nothing to be loved… romantically loved. I never really got that, in any of my school years, and now I’ve just… kind of grown distant to the idea of being loved…?”
“And yet you still reach out for it, love. You’re in the dating pool, you still want love…”
“Yeah… I guess I do…” you mumbled to yourself. He looked at you, moving a bit of hair that had stuck to your face via crying. “Mind if I show you just a little bit…? Not a kiss, but I still want to give you the romantic love you desire…”
You paused, in thought, debating internally on whether or not you accept his proposal. Maybe it was time you did something you were afraid of. I mean, exposure therapy is there for a reason, right?
You give him a small nod, and you see him light up like a warm candle, a comforting light within the cold darkness of night. He then opened up his wings and proceeded to wrap them around you, pulling you closer to him. His coffee-brown feathers gently brushed and rubbed against your ivory ones. He then held you closer with his own arms.
Those muscular arms that silently screamed, ‘I will protect you with every fiber of my being’. One hand resided at one of your shoulder blades and the other cusped against the back of your head.
You both stayed like that for a bit. And you finally let yourself just be. Just be in love. Just relax into the comfort of the loving embrace of one harpee to another. Your eyelids would begin to droop shut, your body relaxing in the warmth of Kyle’s love. You could hear it, in the way he breathed, that he was smiling once he felt you relax into him.
“How’s this, love…?”
“...I like it.”
“You sure? You just like it?” He quietly chuckled.
“Yeah… I love it.” ───♡───────────── End
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