#and then the class ends. i mean if i wanted to talk to him i could message him on slack but that’s… so much
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summary: [ cs55, cl16, mv1, lh44, fa14, sv5, dr3, mwebber, jb22 x fem!reader ]
three major kinks + a couple minor kinks for each driver
word count: 1.8k
content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), pwp; i'm not going to tag all of these bc that would take 5ever BUT 1) everything is consensual & in the setting of a happy, healthy relationship & 2) dm me if you are needing any specific tw's/cw's & i'll be happy to share those!
a/n: it's been a hot, hot minute since i've had the energy to write (i was busy surviving my surgery core rotation at a level 1 trauma center & pediatrics at a major children's hospital), but i've been brewing up a lil something for awhile now! i was stalling out on writing the last part of corsica, so i figured i'd at least give you this to get the juices flowing again! i started this blog about six months ago, & i'm nearly at 500 followers & i wanted to take a moment to thank you all! i love you so much and i hope you enjoy this! these are the kinks i think each of these drivers has! what proof do i have, you ask? absolute fuck-all! enjoy, loves! xx
creampie + breeding kink — he’s a family man & lord knows how badly he wants his own. he’s possessive, too, & this sates both of those desires well for him. he’s always whispering something in your ear, hand low on your belly about how good you’d look carrying his babies. and once you’re actually pregnant? sweet jesus, he’s never taking his hands off of you.
shower sex — he’s talked a number of times about how he’ll shower multiple times a day, and something tells me he’d never object to a partner. more than once he’s had you against the tiled walls until the water ran cold and your teeth were chattering. he’d then proceed to take it upon himself to warm you up again, ever the gentleman.
post-workout sex — there’s something about the way you look, out of breath & drenched in sweat that sends all the blood in his body rushing to his cock. you’re trying to push him away, afraid that you’re just too gross, but this man does not give a single fuck. he adores you in all your sweaty, sticky glory & is on you the second you make it back from your class, peeling you out of your leggings and wrangling your too-tight sports bra over your head. and it goes the other way as well: his favorite workout cooldown is fucking you senseless; there’s something deeply primal about the exertion of a workout that clouds his head with only thoughts of you, out of breath & on the brink of orgasm.
minor kinks | hair pulling — rough sex — cockwarming — pussy worship — possessiveness — soft dom — teasing — dirty talk
praise kink — he’s a talker in bed, and that means that he’s telling you just how delicious the tight clutch of your velvet walls feels around his cock. one language is not enough to tell you all the ways you make him feel, how good you are, how badly he’s wanted you. it certainly doesn’t hurt when you reciprocate, but the sounds he’s able to work out of you are often enough for him.
vanilla sex — listen: it’s no secret that this man is a romantic, and there are few things as romantic as good ole vanilla sex. sure, some spice is nice every once in a while, but he doesn’t need it to get his rocks off. he’s too caught up in the romance of it all—the tangle of limbs, skin pressed against skin, stuttering breaths, and stammering hearts—to want anything else. all he needs is you.
kissing — similar as above, charles is a sucker for romance, and a good makeout sess is just the right thing to get him hot and bothered. he’s very talented with languages, and his mastery of his tongue doesn’t end with words. *wink wink*
minor kinks | oral sex (giving + receiving) — creampie — cowgirl — bathtub sex — breathplay
mutually drunk sex — no matter how much he loves a club scene, he’d always find himself back in your arms. happy, sloppy, messy sex. as much as he loves a g&t, he loves the taste of you more.
wax play — we’ve seen the clips. he likes dripping the wax just as much as he likes being dripped on, and every time you go to light a candle his eyes get that hungry look like he could devour you whole; you’ve learned how to use this to your advantage.
dirty talk + praise kink — as we all know, this man is a certified YAPPER. and, unsurprisingly, that extends to the bedroom, too. always groaning, grunting, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, there’s very little that leaves him truly speechless; you’ll always know exactly how he feels when you're riding his cock or taking him deep in your throat, whether that’s in dutch, english, or the french he’s been trying to practice. and, given his upbringing, he lives for the praises that fall past your lips; he aims to please, and your sweet words are all the motivation he needs.
minor kinks | restraints (giving + receiving) — spanking — threesomes — nipple play — sensory play
massage — he takes great pride in his physique, and he thinks every inch of you is perfect. he loves watching all the tension leave your body. with such limited time in his busy, busy life, he thrives on the time he gets to spend with you; few things can compete with the peace, intimacy, and pleasure that comes from the feeling of your hands working over the tight muscles of his back and legs. and if they happen to wander somewhere else? well, what a happy accident that would be!
fingering — if there’s one thing lewis knows, it’s that a man’s most important tool isn’t the one between his legs. he loves all the ways in which you unravel for him, your back pressed against his chest with your legs draped over his own to keep them open. he’ll play with you like that for hours if he could, unlacing your composure until you're boneless and melting into him with every touch. (also, dear god, have you seen his hands? female gaze bait of the highest form.)
the lingerie stays on — there’s a litany of pick-up lines about clothes, etc. looking good on you but better on their floor, and a one mr. hamilton disagrees with that sentiment; we know well how he appreciates fine garments, and he loves them even more when you’re wearing them. he’s most certainly one to spoil his partner, and if he’s going to buy you that agent provocateur set, you can bet he wants to see you in it.
minor kinks | soft dom — cowgirl — voyeurism — intimacy — dirty talk — shower sex — pillowtalk
face riding — why do you think he takes so much pride in his neck strength? and even when you’re squirming away from overstimulation, he’s more than able to hold you in place by hooking his toned biceps over your shaking thighs. he’s a menace, but he never leaves a partner wanting for more.
wearing his clothes — okay, this one isn’t original in the slightest because i simply cannot get this blurb by @folkloresthings out of my head. nando would keel over at the sight of you in his clothes, especially if there was a particular lack of certain undergarments. he’d pull you in by the excess material and have you right there if feasible.
anal sex — all the nando fuckers know that he’s a little freaky—can i get an amen? that being said, his experience goes a long way in helping his partner get the most out of it and making it a pleasurable experience for all parties. he’d take his time working you open, pairing it with leg-shaking orgasms to wash away any doubts in your mind. it’s a new sensation, but a welcome one at that.
minor kinks | swallowing / facials — teasing — spanking — rough sex — sloppy sex — aftercare
teasing — a tyrant on the track and one in the bedroom as well. or in the car. or at a dinner with a few too many pairs of eyes. regardless, being a tease is his favorite above all else despite his own inability to handle a healthy dose of his own medicine.
overstimulation — this more or less goes hand-in-hand with his teasing, but he loves the way you beg when you’re coming down from one high and coasting right into another. “just one more, liebling” or “you’ve got another one, don’t you, schatz?” or “i know you can take it, kleiner hase” before making your vision go white as he wrings another orgasm from you.
morning sex — but, above all else, sebastian is a lover, and few things are quite as intimate as slow, fumbling, half-awake morning sex where you’re mumbling praises and communicating in soft, hushed sounds of pleasure. chasing sensations and desires before your mind is even fully awake takes a strong, trusting bond, and he prides himself on this with his partner.
minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — mutual masturbation — toys — soft restraints (giving + receiving) — creampie / breeding — praise kink — dirty talk
cowgirl — this man & his mobsession w/ texas—need i say more? how does that saying go, again? “save a horse…”
photos/sextape — daniel3.jpg would like a word. he’s obsessed with this new medium, and what’s a better way to remember a spicy moment than on film? plus, when you’re traveling 200-plus days a year, you need a way to bring a piece of home with you however you can, whether that’s watching you fall apart while arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight or taking him into the back of your throat as you look up at him through damp lashes or riding his cock or or arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight…you get the picture.
threesomes — considering the way that everyone fawns over him on the grid, this man could so easily work himself into some surprising pairings. his love language is physical touch and he’s not afraid to share it. that, combined with his competitiveness and desire to please, turns into a dangerous desire for him to see you fucked out and overwhelmed by your own need for more.
minor kinks | mirror sex — dirty talk — thigh riding — facefucking — rough sex — hair pulling
rough sex — aussie grit. there’s nothing else i need to say other than he’s a wild ride.
aftercare — any rough lover worth their prowess, though, knows the importance of aftercare, and mark is no different in that regard. he takes it very seriously and is always checking in afterward to make sure you enjoyed yourself as much as he did, peppering you in sweet kisses and warm embraces.
pussy worship — we’ve all seen the clip, right? this man knows how to eat pussy and he’s damn good at it. better yet—he loves doing it. you’d practically have to pry him off you from the overstimulation, his tongue, lips, and teeth finding alllll the right ways to make you fall apart.
minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — possessiveness — massage — swallowing / facials
exhibitionism + voyeurism — the grid slag. he’s confident about his body and his abilities, and he’s not afraid to share. he’s not overly possessive and an unabashed hedonist to boot, so this pairing works perfectly to get his rocks off (and hopefully yours, too). he’s a little freak, and he’s not afraid to let it show!
spanking — when you’re especially mouthy (frequently to get these exact reactions) and he’s a little bold, jenson is partial to taking you over his knee and seeing how long you can keep up the act before you’re a whimpering mess. frequently this ends with him literally kissing your ass, two fingers buried knuckle deep in your dripping cunt while another toys with your too-sensitive clit.
brattiness — again, like above, he loves when you backtalk or drag your heels on him, making him work for your pleasure and, on some nights, your submission. (though, he’s not afraid to admit how fucking hot he finds it when you take control, using him for your pleasure and taking what you need. all that matters to him is raw, messy, dirty fun.)
minor kinks | threesomes — begging — degradation kink (giving + receiving) — nipple play — oral sex (giving + receiving) — toys
final note: that's all, folks! now what do you think? let me know! 🤍 as always, you can follow my writing sideblog @velvetsainz-writes where i reblog inspo & recs!
#f1 smut#formula one smut#formula 1 smut#f1 driver smut#charles leclerc x reader#cl16 x reader#cl16 smut#carlos sainz x reader#cs55 x reader#cs55 smut#fa14 x reader#lh44 x reader#mv1 x reader#mv33 x reader#dr3 x reader#sv5 x reader#jb22 x reader#jenson button x reader#fernando alonso x reader#fa14 smut#lewis hamilton x reader#lh44 smut#max verstappen x reader#mv33 smut#mv1 smut#daniel ricciardo x reader#dr3 smut#danny ric x reader#sebastian vettel x reader#sv5 smut
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a steamy enemies mattheo fic w you as the shy yet stern tutor and he keeps messing w you. maybe at the end after he passes his exams you try to stop the meetings by saying he doesn’t need a tutor anymore and he gets mad/the jealousy trope 🤤😈🛼 also what if there’s a scene where you go to a ‘dangerous’ party w the wrong crowd and he catches you there and gets mad bc he doesn’t want u around those people
I hope this works! So sorry this took so long!
Tutor
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: kissing, cussing
You and Mattheo never got along. Everyone knew that too. Insults and snarky comments were thrown at each other all the time.
So it was infuriating when McGonagall said you were his new tutor since he was struggling with some classes. You tried to get out of it, switch with another tutor, but she just said that everyone's already set up with another student and she can't change it.
Tutoring sessions were brutal. He always messed with you. Always tried getting off topic. Even jokingly flirting with you to try to derail your lesson. But you were determined to get him to study and tutor him enough to pass so you could stop these sessions.
“How about every answer I get right, you give me a kiss?” He smiled at you.
“In your dreams, Riddle.” You rolled your eyes, but felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Can you just focus?”
He finally just started passing his classes, his homework and test scores soaring enough to make him start passing classes. McGonagall said you didn't have to tutor him anymore, but she recommended you did since your own scores were going up as well as you tutored him. You had enough of Mattheo and told him you weren't going to be tutoring him anymore during your last tutoring session, showing him the tricks you learned for studying and retaining information.
Oh, he was mad. He never really hated you. He liked you and never knew how to express his feelings so he became mean to you instead. He was a dumb kid when he decided that and didn't know how to change it and make you like him, even as a friend. These tutoring sessions were making his feelings grow. He thought it'd be a perfect time to find out more about you, asking you questions about yourself, trying to change the topic to something more fun to hear you talk about something other than school, even flirting with you to try to change your view of him and see if he could fluster you.
So when you told him that you were done with tutoring him, he was upset. Moreso at himself than you. He was upset that he didn't seem to get you to change your view of him. He was upset he tried so hard, he passed enough to not need you to tutor him anymore. He was upset that he decided to be an ass to you at the beginning of your relationship so you'd always have a bad view of him.
“What do you mean you're not tutoring me anymore?” He frowned as he sat across from you in the library.
“I mean exactly that. You're doing well enough to not need one anymore.” You shrugged.
“I'm only doing this well because of you.”
“I'm showing you how I study so you can keep doing this well. You don't need me.”
He wanted to say he does need you. Merlin, he wanted to. He wanted to see how you'd react. He even wanted to see you get all smug and tease him about needing you, but he bit his tongue.
Truth was, he really didn't need your help. He knew this stuff enough to pass with flying colors. He just never applied himself. But he thought if he did start passing because of you, you'd be impressed and happy he did so well because of you. He felt like he lost his chance to win you over once he saw you leaving the library after your last tutoring session.
Your friend invited you to a party she'd been invited to, saying it'll be fun and to think of it as celebrating successfully tutoring Mattheo and being done with him. You were reluctant but finally agreed, deciding it'd be fun to relax and let loose.
You arrived with your friend, who let you borrow one of her short dresses and a pair of heels. You both drank and danced until she was eventually pulled away by one of the guys there, leaving you alone. You were slightly tipsy, just enough to make you relaxed and slightly dizzy.
A guy approached you, you recognized him enough to know he was in Slytherin, but you never learned his name. He was about to say something when an arm wrapped around your waist from beside you.
“Hey, princess. Hope you weren't waiting on me for too long.” You recognized the voice as Mattheo and turned your head to see him smiling at you.
“What-”
“You seem a bit tired. How about we go sit down?” Something in his voice and smile was off. You nodded and he guided you away from the crowd and down a secluded hallway. “What are you doing here?” He asked as he moved to stand in front of you.
“My friend invited me.” You frowned.
“And she left you alone?” He matched your frown.
“Some guy took her to dance.”
“You're kidding. This isn't safe for you.”
“What? Why?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.
“Doesn't matter. I'll get you back to your dorm.” He said, trying to turn you back around to lead you away.
“No, tell me. If I'm in danger, then I should know why.” You said, resisting him.
He sighed, looking down the hallway before looking back at you, talking quietly. “This is for purebloods and Death Eaters, something you shouldn't get involved with. So, let me get you out of here before something happens to you.” He said, trying to guide you again and you let him this time.
“What are you doing here then?” You questioned, now sobered up from this conversation.
“My father. What do you think, Ms Know-It-All?” He teased and you rolled your eyes.
“No need to be mean.” You frowned. There was a pause as he led you out of the party and started the way to your dorm. “Why are you helping me anyways?”
“I don't hate you, you know?” He said and you turned your head to look at him again.
“You don't?” You raised an eyebrow.
“No. I never have. I'm just…” He paused trying to find the right words and you stopped walking, turning to face him as he stopped too. “I'm not good at…words-at expressing myself. I don't do well with feelings and emotions.” He sighed, looking down.
“Okay.” You spoke quietly. “So…what do you actually mean then, if you don't hate me?”
“What I mean is that…” He looked back up to meet your eyes. “I mean, I don't hate you, I…” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out another sigh. “Fuck it.” He muttered before grabbing your face gently and pressing his lips against yours. He pulled back after a few seconds, noticing your surprised expression as you still tried grasping what just happened. “Did that make sense?” He asked, hands still cupping your face.
“Um, I think so.” You said, still a little dazed.
“Let's get you back to your dorm. Maybe it'll give you time to figure it out.” He said, a small smirk playing on his lips now as he moved a hand back to your waist and started guiding you again.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff
@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236
@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu
Let me know if you wanna be added!
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle
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Has reader ever just had a "i have to get out" moment in the changeover universe?
Like art is trying to talk to her after sex and shes just staring at the wall re thinking her decisions.
They are very toxic and i know the reader has feelings for them so i think art would have been very smothering ir clingy if reader made any atempts at going out with another circle of friends and distancing herself
(im sorry i over analyse many situations 😭)
Anon… i love u <3 I love this messy main character bc i too would throw away my scruples for this man.
Rating: M
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Toxic situationship, manipulation kinda, mild angst
Summary: You say something you shouldn’t. It messes up the fucked up equilibrium that you and Art had found in whatever you could call the relationship you had together.
FEBRUARY 2007
For Valentine’s Day, you got Art a teddy bear and a box of chocolates. He got you nothing. He wasn’t your boyfriend, so you didn’t know why you were upset about it, but you were. It stung like a fresh wound, one you could never just let be.
The two of you fucked, because that’s what you always did. The feeling of his mouth on yours, warm and tasting of mint, almost made you forgive him for not getting you anything. He called you beautiful, let his hands trace your body reverently, made you cum once, twice before he pulled you into his lap and let you sink onto him.
His forehead was against yours, breath coming in pants as you rode him, bodies pressed so close it almost felt like making love. Maybe that’s why you said it— the words tumbling out like a prayer.
I love you, Art.
He was tense, for a moment, brows furrowed slightly, before he kissed you and laid you onto your back. He pulled another orgasm from an impossible place within you, one you didn’t know existed. He came, messy on your thighs, and rolled over onto his back.
It was quiet, and you felt so far away from him. Your fingers brushed against his hand, testing, but he pulled them away and stood to redress. It was so quiet that you could hear blood pumping in your ears, like an ocean.
”You shouldn’t say stuff like that,” was what he finally said.
Your lip wobbled, just slightly. And then tears pooled on your lashline. “Sorry,” you said weakly.
“It’s fine.” But you had a sinking suspicion that you’d really fucked up. He handed you a towel, and you cleaned yourself up as best as you could while fighting frustrated tears.
”Are you leaving?” You asked. He was standing in between yours and your roommate’s bed, like he hadn’t quite decided yet. You pulled on a tee shirt and underwear and gave him a pathetic, pleading expression. ”Don’t leave, please. I didn’t mean it. We can watch a movie.”
He acquiesced, and let you cling to his side pathetically after you pulled out a portable DVD player. You split a pair of headphones and watched The Royal Tenenbaums.
Halfway through the movie, clarity hit like a lightning strike. Or maybe it was more like a sinking feeling of dread— of being neck deep in quicksand before you realize you should be crawling out.
You couldn’t keep doing this. Because Art was a dream, really. Handsome, and talented, and smarter than you’d expected him to be. And he was so sweet, when he didn’t realize that he should’ve been discouraging your affection. Or maybe he liked it, but only when it was quiet and he didn’t have to acknowledge that what he was doing was wrong.
Maybe it wasn’t wrong and it was all your own fault for wanting someone who made it clear they weren’t emotionally available. Maybe you were pressuring him into something he didn’t want and it was all unfair to him too.
It didn’t matter. It was fucking killing you.
When the movie ended, he stretched and said he’d see you in class. You nodded, smiling the sad smile of a dog unknowingly being left at the pound.
Once the sadness faded, it was replaced with a molten resentment, an anger at him and yourself over your time being wasted. He still sat next to you in class, sneaking peeks of your notes, but you ignored him as best as you could. Days passed, then a week. You started to feel human again.
A couple weekends later, you ignored the text he sent asking for you to join him at a mixer the tennis team was planning on crashing. You ignored the follow up too.
You wound up at a party on the opposite end of campus with a few girls from the service org you were in. You flirted with a new guy, felt like maybe you were worth more than a casual fuck buddy.
So the sight of him sitting at your door when you finally stumbled home was the last thing you wanted to see. All sad, slumped against your door.
He scrambled to stand, expression filled with longing. “Don’t be mad at me,” he pleaded. “I missed you so fucking bad these past few weeks. Felt like I was going crazy.”
Your heart skipped, and hammered against your ribs. You wanted to reach out and kiss that sad, longing expression off his face. You wanted to tell him to leave. It was all very confusing.
“Don’t say that, Art, please,” you said weakly, lips turning down into a frown. You tried to sidestep him, to get the keys into the door, but he pulled you against his chest.
He smelled so nice— like cologne and cinnamon gum. You gave a pathetic sigh at the warmth of him, wrapped all around you. “I missed you,” he repeated. “It’s like a part of me has been missing. I wanted to talk to you so badly, to kiss you, to watch boring movies with you.”
Annoyance and longing bubbled hot in the pit of your stomach, you had to force yourself to push him away. “You just missed having a cheerleader you could fuck whenever you felt like it.”
He frowned. “That’s not true.”
”What’s my major? What’s my favorite place on campus?” He swallowed hard, exhaling sharply through his nose. “What’s my favorite movie?”
“How would I know that?” He asked, resignation flat on his features.
You rolled your eyes. “Because I tell you about it all the time. Because I’ve taken you there. Because I made you watch it. Twice.” You finally got into your room. When you didn’t slam the door, you realized that you were aching for him to follow. You wanted him to be near you, even if you were seething.
When you turned to face him, you hated that even though you were incredibly mad, you still wanted him to just prove you wrong. To convince you that you were being crazy and he was innocent and the only problem was you being a weirdo about your feelings.
God, he was so pretty. And he looked so sad.
“I’ll try to be better,” he said. “I’ll take you on dates, and buy you flowers, and give you what you deserve.”
But you’ll never be his girlfriend. You knew it, deep down. Even as you caved and gave a sweet, sad little nod. He was across the room, holding you against his chest as you felt annoying tears slipping down your cheeks. Tears of relief, of frustration, of resignation.
“I’m not Tashi,” you said when he pressed his lips to the crown of your skull. It was annoying that he had the power to quell all of your uncomfortable emotions with a single romantic gesture. He pulled back and met your gaze, and you softened. “I know she’s always been your first pick, and I don’t blame you, but I’m not ever going to be her, if that’s what you’re waiting on.”
Something passed over his expression, briefly. “I know you’re not.” It was more of a lament than it was an attempt at comfort. “I’m not waiting on anything.”
His lips trailed down, along your jaw, at the corner of your mouth. He pulled back, looking at you expectantly. Are you going to let me?
Your lips parted softly as you kissed him with lips that tasted wet and salty. It was chaste, and sweet. He pulled back and ran his thumb along your cheekbone. “Let me hold you until you fall asleep? Please?”
It was hard to stay mad at Art Donaldson, even when you knew you really should.
Thank you for reading! If you have any requests in the Changeover universe, or otherwise send me an ask :)
#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson fanfic#challengers 2024#challengers x reader#challengers fanfic#my writing
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off the beaten path
pairing: patrick zweig x reader
summary: what could go wrong with a non-refundable honeymoon and a broken engagement?
warnings: MATURE (mentions of sex but no sex scenes), exes to lovers, idiots to lovers angst, fluff, there was only one bed MULTIPLE times, jealousy!! (like a lot), slow burn, no use of y/n, so much use of the word fuck, a little toxicity, some facts about landmarks are inaccurate for the plot, lots of arguing and making up, miscommunication, seasickness, patrick & reader kinda have no social awareness, a lot of hotels and buses, alcohol, hurt/comfort, happy ending.
word count: 18.4k
author’s note: this was so much longer than i expected it to be, but i loved writing it so so much and i'm gonna be sad to see this pairing go! also, a special thank you to the tour website whose itinerary i used for their trip. i hope you enjoy!
JFK AIRPORT
You scrolled endlessly on your phone as you sat at your gate, trying your hardest to fight off the combination of sleepiness and anxiety that had been slowly creeping up on you for the past hour.
You should be happy—excited to spend the next month of your life traveling throughout Europe on the trip that you had dreamt about since you were a child. Instead, you were filled with dread at the prospect of your quickly approaching trip, leaving your leg bouncing and your eyes flitting between the device in your hands and the entrance of the gate, anxiously anticipating the arrival of a man that you really really did not want to see.
Once it was announced that first class was boarding, you quickly hopped out of your uncomfortable seat, hoping that if you boarded quick enough, you might be able to miss your unwanted companion. As you stood in line, you tried your best to be casual about your endlessly swiveling head and wondered if it was too late to simply call the whole thing off.
Boarding had gone smoothly enough, and as you settled into your seat, you still hadn’t seen any sign of your former fiancé. For a second, a spark of hope lit up in you. Maybe you’d get to experience Europe without that pest in your ear after all. Maybe you could even arrange a friend to come fly out and be with you for a few days, or find someone to have a romantic summer fling with.
But just as soon as your hope arrived, it departed with the sound of a familiar voice walking down the aisle and directly towards you.
“They wouldn’t let me switch my seat.”
You couldn’t believe that those were the choice of words the man you’d intended to spend the rest of your life with had decided to start with. After months of radio silence. No apologies, no awkward small talk, no sugar-coated words about your situation, just a complaint about the conditions the two of you would be in for the next eight hours. Classic Patrick.
“That’s too bad,” you replied, already annoyed by his presence. You had underestimated how much of a challenge this trip was going to be, solely based on the speed at which your negative feelings had come to the surface.
“Yeah, no shit,” he muttered under his own breath, putting some luggage into the overhead bin above your seats.
“You’re the one who insisted we still go,” you argued, not wanting him to get the last word—even if his last words were meant to be a snarky comment to himself more than anything else.
“The hotels, tours, and all the other tickets were non-refundable!” he argued right back to you.
“So?” you shot back like a petulant child.
“So I didn’t want to waste your money.”
“Oh, how considerate,” you scoffed sarcastically before beginning once more. “You’re rich! You don’t even have to be here!”
“Just because my family is comfortable doesn’t mean I want to waste my money.”
You openly rolled your eyes at his words. Comfortable was the understatement of the century. “So you didn’t actually want to waste my money. You didn’t want to waste your own.”
“Why can’t it be both?” he asked, sounding exasperated by your line of thinking. You hated when he did that. You kind of hated most things he did now. Maybe you just hated him.
“I never said it can’t be both, I just think you should stop trying to act like you’re so charitable for doing me a favor. As if our relationship wasn’t filled with me doing you favors.”
“Do you really want to be having this conversation right now?” he asked.
“Sorry, you’re right. We have the next thirty-five days to talk about it.”
The two of you sighed in a synchronized breath at the mention of the amount of time you had to spend together. You hated that the two of you were still in rhythm after everything you’d been through. Or maybe you just hated Patrick.
“Who plans a thirty-five day honeymoon anyway?” he huffed.
“Us, apparently. I mean, you were all for it, what? A few months ago?”
“Only because you wanted it.
“Oh, how could I forget. The ever-charitable Patrick Zweig. Taking a month-long break from hitting balls to be with me. I’m forever in your debt,” you mocked with a dramatic hand to your forehead. “At this rate, you’re gonna send me a list of all of the nice things you’ve ever done for me. What do you want me to say? Thank you for doing the bare minimum as a boyfriend?”
“Fiancé,” he corrected you, earning a very nasty side eye from you in the process of doing so.
You were beginning to get dirty looks from your fellow first class passengers, which temporarily shut the both of you up. It was never a good idea to piss off people on a plane. You didn’t want to end up on the no-fly list just because you couldn’t bite your tongue around your ex.
“Remember when you said we could still be friends after this?” Patrick spoke once more after your moment of silence.
“Of course I remember, but you stopped that from happening when you…” your voice trailed off as you made eye contact with a very displeased looking middle aged woman “Whatever. Let’s just… try to get through this flight. And try not to make any more of a scene.”
“Fine,” he replied, shrugging in your peripheral vision.
“Fine,” you said back, not wanting him to have the last word.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That thing where you think you win every argument just because you said the last thing.”
“I’m not doing that,” you lied. “You think you know me so well.”
A familiar agitated smile broke out on his face, something that you unfortunately missed seeing. “I do know you well, though. I see right through you.”
“You actually don’t, though.”
“I do,” he insisted, the smirk creeping onto his face telling you that he knew you were actively proving his point.
“Not really,” you dismissed and attempted to casually pull the headphones that were currently sitting on your neck up to cover your ears. You were always grateful to have noise-canceling headphones when you were traveling, but they were coming particularly in handy for you to win this argument. You tried to hide your self-satisfied smirk as you pressed play on your phone, but you could instantly tell that you were failing.
When you looked back up, Patrick was clearly saying words to you that you weren’t able to hear. Knowing him, he was probably saying something along the lines of, “Real mature.”
The truth was that he wanted the last word more than you did–which made it particularly rewarding when you gestured to your headphones before throwing your hands out in a shrug to indicate to him that you couldn’t hear him.
Your vacation was already off to a chaotic start. You couldn’t help but fear what the next thirty-five days would be like.
BARCELONA, SPAIN
Despite the flight only being eight hours long, you were absolutely exhausted by the time that you checked into your hotel room. So exhausted that you failed to remember to request to switch rooms to one with two beds rather than one.
This predicament only came to the forefront of your mind once you and Patrick had already swiped into the room, suitcases lying on the floor and one king-sized mattress presented in front of you.
“Should I go back down to the front desk?” he asked as he looked from you to the bed.
“I’m too tired to get a new room,” you replied. You could handle one night next to your ex. You’d slept in a bed together for years. Granted, during those years you were also sleeping together, but this wasn’t all that different.
“Fine. Don’t complain if I hog blankets, then.”
“Fine,” you replied. “Just stay on your side of the bed.”
You shucked your backpack from your shoulders and walked over to what was typically the side of the bed where you slept when the two of you had been a couple. Not wasting any time to get ready for bed, you began to take off your clothes and search for your pajamas. Once you glanced over your shoulder, you were quite displeased to find Patrick rather openly ogling at you.
“Stop looking at me,” you demanded.
“What? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He said with a smirk.
“You’re such a creep,” you muttered, throwing on an old shirt and crawling into bed.
As you laid in bed and texted your friends and family that you’d arrived at your hotel safely, you took a peek of your own at your former partner as he got ready for bed. He seemed to be going with his classic bedtime attire of just boxers. Bold move.
Your eyes were momentarily stuck on his abs and enticing happy trail. You’d planned your trip during Patrick’s off season while he was training for his upcoming season, so you were pleasantly unsurprised that he was in such good shape. Your breath caught for a second as you thought about the rest of him, and you desperately tried to repress the low, fiery feeling rising in your stomach.
“And I’m the creep?” he asked with a laugh, pulling you away from your objectification as he got into bed next to you.
“Yeah,” you replied, as if you hadn’t just given him the same treatment he’d given you.
“Well… like what you see?”
You scoffed at his audacity, though you did like what you saw. “I’m not fucking you. Goodnight.”
You hit the light on your nightstand and you swore you heard a quiet sound of disappointment come from Patrick. Bastard.
You turned your back to him and closed your eyes, finding that sleep took you under surprisingly easily.
When you woke up in the morning, you were greeted by a far too familiar feeling. Despite your request for Patrick to stay on his side of the bed, the slow, steady breaths being breathed into your ear and the solid wall of body behind you indicated that he had not only traveled into your space over the course of the night, but was actively spooning you.
You were shocked to find that you didn’t necessarily mind it. Yes, you were mad at Patrick for everything that had gone down between you, and because he was such a pain in the ass, but you also hadn’t realized just how much you missed being held. Particularly, how much you missed being held by him.
The more alert you became, the more you realized that you couldn’t really move. Despite that, you found that you didn’t really want to move. Sure, you were beginning to get uncomfortably hot, and yes, you could feel Patrick’s morning wood pressing against your ass, but none of it was particularly unpleasant.
Part of you wondered if your trip would go differently than you expected. Regardless of how you acted towards one another, you clearly both missed each other.
Your shrill phone alarm suddenly went off, startling Patrick awake behind you.
“Mmm, fuck, sorry,” he sleepily slurred as he rolled away from you. You turned over to look at his tired face, eyes still lidded and speckled face looking far softer than you remembered.
Out of the blue, he opened his eyes, catching you in the act of looking at him with barely-concealed affection. Before he could make some sort of snarky comment, he shot out of bed, adjusted his boxers, and made an urgent beeline towards the bathroom. All of which would’ve been far funnier if his actions hadn’t been disrupted by the loud message ping of his cellphone.
You weighed out your options. You were curious about what was waiting for him on his phone, but you weren’t sure that you’d have time to properly snoop. As if the universe was listening to your thoughts, the sound of the shower began, telling you that you had all the time that you needed to do some adequate investigation.
You wondered who was texting Patrick so early in the morning. Knowing him, it was probably his mother, checking in to make sure he made it to his destination safely. You were sure that whatever message she left would also be inquiring about you. She’d always had a bit of a soft spot for you, especially compared to some of the other people that Patrick had brought home. That, of course, was an observation shared to you from Patrick, so you couldn’t be sure how much of it was flattery compared to truth.
Regardless, her fondness for you had carried into the end of your relationship, with her occasionally messaging or calling you to make sure that you were still doing well, and more importantly, to check in on the status of your relationship.
Much like you and your friends, she’d been holding out hope that your relationship may repair itself. With you and Patrick being as passionate as the two of you were, you were no strangers to seemingly serious arguments that resolved themselves in a matter of days. While calling off a wedding was far more drastic than any of your other disputes had been, after being together for years, it was hard to imagine a world where the two of you weren’t a couple.
But his call never came. You didn’t hear an apology or explanation or even an excuse from Patrick—just a suggestion of when you should pick up the items you’d left at his place.
You hated to admit it, but there was a naïve part of you that was still holding out hope that this trip would be exactly what you needed to reconcile. And maybe that naïeve part of you was less delusional than you might’ve originally thought. Surely cuddling into the morning and Patrick’s poorly hidden morning wood were signs that this vacation was already going in the right direction. Maybe being in such close proximity was exactly the push you needed to get your relationship back on track.
After a halfhearted internal debate, you grabbed his phone from the night stand on his side of the bed. Attempting the passcode he’d been using while you were together—the digits of your birthday—you were pleased to find that the password hadn’t changed and that you were granted access into his phone. What you weren’t expecting to see was Tinder on the homepage of his cracked device.
You paused for a moment and attempted to reason with yourself. Your former fiancé probably didn’t even use the app. He’d likely been pressured by his rebound-obsessed friends to download it, and hadn’t even opened the app since setting up his profile. Besides, you didn’t get on his phone to see what new apps he’d downloaded, you were snooping to see what his mom had to say about you.
When you opened his messages app, your mouth promptly fell open in shock. Patrick had always been loyal to you—at least to your knowledge—while the two of you were together. Seeing him be so openly flirtatious and suggestive with an attractive woman that you hadn’t ever heard of was more than jarring.
Your stomach churned as you scrolled through the conversation, flirty messages and images from both sides that left little to the imagination disturbing you in a way that you hadn’t ever realized was possible.
In the midst of your distraught state, you nearly missed the background noise of the shower coming to a halt, informing you that your time snooping had come to an end.
You set his phone back down where you’d found it and desperately tried to push down the bile in your throat that was tasting more and more like jealousy and anger by the second.
You knew it was irrational for you to be feeling this way, considering that the two of you had been broken up for a few months. Nothing legally or morally tied the two of you together anymore, but that didn’t make you feel any less unsettled by what you’d just seen.
It was just that… you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to fully move on from Patrick. He’d been part of your life for so long, and the way things ended had been so abrupt that it almost didn’t feel real. Even if you did move on, it was going to take you more than three months to do so. It wasn’t fair that Patrick’s name seemed to pop up every week in your therapy sessions, while he was sending pictures of himself in gray sweatpants to random hot women.
You wanted to shrink into the mattress and never come back up. You wanted to yell at Patrick the moment he stepped out of the bathroom. You wanted to turn on your side and wail dramatically, at least until all of your big feelings felt a little smaller.
But you were in Europe on vacation. You were on vacation, damnit, and you weren’t going to let one mildly disturbing text thread ruin your entire experience. Better yet, if Patrick was already moving on, there was no reason that you shouldn’t do the same.
You told yourself this as you rolled out of bed and dug in your suitcase, pulling out a sundress that had driven Patrick wild in the past. While you may have packed it with less than realistic expectations, your goal was far more grounded now.
Both of you could play this game.
You stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed after a shower of your own and instantly registered the almost cartoonish look he was giving you. You guessed that some things never changed, even when the two of you had decided to actively pursue other people.
“The tour guide said to meet in the lobby soon, so I’m gonna head down,” you explained, not giving him a second look as you began to search for your purse.
“The tour doesn’t start for another half hour?” he replied, sitting up from where he was laying on the bed.
“Well I wanna socialize with the people we’re gonna be traveling through Europe with,” you said a little snappily, still a little perturbed about what you’d found on his phone earlier. You conveniently left out the fact that you wanted to scope out any potential summer flings.
“I’ll come with you,” he insisted.
“You really don’t have to. Remember, this isn’t actually a honeymoon,” you slipped on some comfortable shoes and headed to the door. “I’ll see you around.”
You were probably being far more rude than you really needed to be, but your anger had only intensified as you showered and put on makeup. At this point, you were fully pissed—even if you didn’t have the right to be.
You made small talk with the people you met in the lobby as they began to filter into the room, and tried your absolute best to dispel the anger that was flowing through your veins. That proved harder than you anticipated, as Patrick was one of the last people to join you all in the lobby, and for the life of you, you couldn’t stop imagining him sitting in your shared hotel room and sexting his mystery girl.
Luckily, you couldn’t dwell on that ugly thought for too long, as your tour began soon after. Your friendly guide took your group around the city, explaining rather riveting information about the landmarks you visited and the city itself.
After being dismissed for a quick break, you found yourself sitting on a bench and chatting with a man in your group. He wasn’t really your type, but he was extremely conventionally attractive, and from the peripheral glances you caught of Patrick, you could tell that he wasn’t exactly pleased with what was going on.
While making him jealous, or annoyed, or whatever it was that he was feeling, wasn’t your expressed goal, it did feel nice to give him a taste of his own medicine. What felt less nice was glancing over and catching him typing on his phone furiously. You could only imagine whose boobs were on the other end of the line.
Reacting out of a bit of desperation and frustration, you began to play things up. You leaned over more to show off more cleavage, laughed a little harder at jokes that weren’t all that funny, and set a scandalous hand on his arm. You were determined to have that vacation fling now, and you were going to get it by any means necessary.
You laid it on thick for the rest of the afternoon, sitting next to him during lunch and flirting casually with him as your group walked through Park Güell.
You wondered if he noticed you throwing glances in Patrick’s direction after every interaction. You hoped that he didn’t.
It felt good to be getting even with Patrick—but not as good as you expected it to feel. The realization sunk in as a portion of your group visited a bar that was apparently very popular with the locals. Or at least, that’s what a very handsome man purred into your ear after sitting down next to you at the bar.
You’d been keeping an eye on Patrick as he socialized with a couple that he’d been talking to for the majority of your day, but you almost instantly lost track of him as you became consumed with this handsome stranger.
Everything happened in a bit of a blur—one moment you’d been nursing a Marianito, and the next you were holding the hand of a man whose name you couldn’t remember as he led you to his apartment.
By the time you’d left his apartment, you were nothing short of a mess. You were pretty sure that the only way you could’ve been more obvious about what had just happened to you was if you had the words “JUST HAD SEX” written across your forehead—and with the way the people in your hotel elevator were looking at you, you couldn’t be completely sure that those words weren’t on your face.
You made it back to your room safely, quietly opening the door and doing your best not to make too much noise, since at this hour, Patrick was surely asleep.
It did feel weird to be going back to his bed less than an hour after you’d been with another man, but you couldn’t necessarily say you felt bad. Patrick had started it, and you simply finished it off. If he didn’t have any issues with seeing other people, there was no reason for you to have an issue with it either.
Your efforts to be quiet had proved themselves to be for naught, as Patrick was very clearly wide awake, sitting up in bed and already looking at you disapprovingly.
You weren’t sure what possessed you to speak, rather than ignoring his presence and heading straight to the shower, but your mouth was open before you could stop yourself.
“Were you just gonna wait here until I got back, like I’m a kid who just snuck out or something?” you asked in disbelief, partially annoyed because of his action, but more ashamed to have been caught in such a state. It couldn’t have been more obvious to Patrick what you’d just done, considering that he’d seen you in a similar state hundreds of times.
“Baby, we are on a whole different, unfamiliar continent,” his tone was condescending and cold and it made you want to crawl out of your skin. “Why wouldn’t I wait to make sure you got back safely?”
“Don’t call me pet names. And I would’ve been fine. We were just at the bar,” you lied. Going to the apartment of a random man you just met probably wasn’t your brightest idea, but you made it out alive, and that was what mattered.
“Huh. The bar?” he smirked at you in a way that screamed that he was pissed, without really having to say a word.
“Yes, I- what does it matter to you anyway?” you hoped that the question would be enough to get you out of the situation. If you were going to argue, you at least wanted to argue after you were showered and in pajamas.
“What does it matter to me if you fucked someone else?” he asked, sounding like he was in complete disbelief.
“Yeah, Patrick. Why does it matter if I fucked someone else? We’re not together anymore. Did you forget? I mean, it seemed pretty obvious to you when you stopped speaking to me completely a few months ago.”
“Please, enlighten me. What did I have to speak to you about?”
“I don’t know! Maybe an ‘are you okay?’ would’ve been nice. Or something. Anything, really. We were together for six fucking years and you just dropped me like I was dirt!”
“I…” he trailed off, catching you by surprise. He almost always had a quick clever response that managed to piss you off in a way no one else ever could, so seeing him not knowing what to say next caught you off guard. “If our relationship meant that much to you, why were you all over that guy? I mean, seriously. I’ve never seen anything so desperate. You were practically rubbing yourself on him in the park like a bitch in heat.”
Contempt dripped from his words. You had never been so enraged.
“Are you joking?” you laughed out of sheer anger. “Patrick, you started it! How many Tinder girls have you seen since we broke up? And don’t you dare fucking lie to me. I saw everything you’ve been sending to Amelia. Amelia, I’m so lonely. Amelia, I’m so horny. Amelia, I love you so much,” you mocked.
“You went through my phone?” he asked in disbelief, not even bothering to address the rest of your statement. “Fuck. You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m unbelievable? How long did it even take you before we split for you to start seeing other people? I mean, knowing you, you were probably just waiting for the day we broke up to go get your dick wet.”
“That’s not true, and you know it,” for a second, he looked genuinely wounded—something you were only able to recognize after years of being in a relationship with the man. You didn’t like that you were actively hurting him, but he’d been inflicting pain on you from the moment you broke up.
“Fine,” you conceded on that front, knowing that he was right. It wasn’t completely true. If you hadn’t gone through his phone, you never would’ve guessed that he had already moved on. “But you’ve still been seeing other people.”
“We’ve been broken up for months now,” he replied, as if that was supposed to make things any better or more reasonable.
“Then why do you care so much about me having sex with someone else? It’s fine when you do it, but suddenly it’s an issue for me?”
Patrick’s face immediately paled. “You really fucked him?”
“Well, yeah,” you paused. “Well, not who you’re thinking of.”
“You fucked someone else?!” The hurt and disbelief buried under his words made your stomach churn. “You were flirting with that other douchebag all day, I don’t-“
“You’re acting like I’m some whore for reacting to something that you did first!” you cut him off.
“And you’re acting like I wanted to get rid of you this whole time!” he shot back out at you.
“Clearly you fucking did,” you hissed.
“Fuck you,” he huffed.
“Fuck you,” you shot right back. “I’m leaving.”
“Good,” Patrick replied with a shrug as if he didn’t care, although you were very sure that he cared. “Go run back to your little fuck buddy.”
“Yeah, maybe I will,” you replied as you gathered your items back into your suitcase. “He was better than you, by the way.”
“Yeah, I bet,” he said snarkily as he watched you pack up your items. Luckily, you didn’t have much to pack up and were already heading towards the door.
“He had a bigger dick, too,” you said as you swung open the hotel room door, fully satisfied with a lie that you knew would bother Patrick.
While leaving your hotel room seemed like a wonderful idea in the moment, as you went down the elevator, you started to realize that you really did not have many options for where you’d sleep that night.
You figured your best bet was the hotel lobby. Maybe you could pretend to be someone who’d drank too much and passed out on the first floor before you made it up to your room. You sat down in a comfortable looking chair and grabbed your keycard—in case anyone asked you to verify who you were—then set a floppy hat on your head to cover your face from the bright hotel lobby lights while you attempted to sleep.
Sleep was already going to be difficult to accomplish, thanks to the argument that you were certainly going to be ruminating on for days to come. That was only made more difficult by the uncomfortable seating and position you’d found yourself in. Somehow, you managed to fall asleep, being woken up by a hotel employee and a friend you’d made from your tour group.
“Long night, huh?” she asked you with a playful smirk.
“Mm, something like that,” you mumbled sleepily.
“Well, you can sleep on the coach. It just got here, so we’ll have the best pick of seats. C’mon,” she extended her hand out to you and you gladly took it, in desperate need of something grounding.
You dozed off on the coach once you’d gotten settled, headphones securely on your ears and sunglasses covering your closed eyes. You were vaguely aware of people boarding the vehicle around you, but didn’t pay much mind to anything. Eventually, you heard the faint sound of someone taking attendance of the people on the bus, followed by the commotion of someone getting on the bus late.
Something compelled you to open up your eyes, and when you did, you were displeased to find that Patrick was the source of all of the drama. Likely thing for him to be. He scrambled down the aisle, looking desperately for empty seats. To your own horror, you realized that the seat next to you was vacant, and perhaps the only vacant seat on the entire coach.
As if your minds were connected, you watched Patrick face that very same dilemma as he eventually decided to sit down in the only empty seat, right next to you.
Neither of you said anything at first, not addressing your blowout argument the previous night, or your awkward current situation.
“You look like shit,” Patrick finally said as the bus took off.
“Thanks,” you replied, mentally preparing yourself for a continuation of the argument you’d had just a few hours ago. It was only a matter of time before he brought up your promiscuity or started blatantly texting his Tinderella.
But none of that ever came. In fact, he just looked a little sad. It was weird to see Patrick so openly defeated. He was always one to put on a smirk or a challenging smile when you argued, letting the façade fall once he was alone, or once the two of you finally discussed what the issue was like adults.
You weren’t sure that you liked it. You preferred annoying asshole Patrick to sad, moping Patrick.
“You look like shit, too,” you added. “Which is crazy, since you had access to a shower and I didn’t.”
“And whose fault is that?” he asked, looking at you with the slightest hint of that devious smile. You had to fight the slightest inkling of a smile on your own face.
You felt ridiculous knowing that your mood was still being influenced by your former partner. Even when he was insulting you. Even after he’d spent the night arguing with you. Even after you’d slept with someone else. Even after the two of you had a messy split.
You still loved him.
“Yours, mostly,” you shrugged and put your headphones back on.
PARIS, FRANCE
Despite your brief conversation on the bus, you and Patrick didn’t speak to each other for the entirety of your commute. Although you clearly cared about him, it didn’t change the fact that he had upset and hurt you deeply. And even as upset as you were, you knew that you’d hurt him just as badly.
You had a particular dread for what awaited you in France, knowing that this part of the tour was very couples-activity heavy. When you’d scheduled your trip, this aspect of the tour felt like a major selling point. The two of you always seemed to be falling more in love with each other, and having a candlelit dinner by the Eiffel Tower felt like an exciting way to kick off your marriage.
Now, you just felt like an idiot.
The two of you did your absolute best to avoid getting paired up with each other for all of the activities that you could. You found yourself spending most of your time with a solo traveler who was close in age to you. She made a surprisingly fun companion to your cheese and wine taste test, popping cubes of fragrant cheese into your mouth and making a competition out of who could detect the most accurate notes in your wine.
While you found luck in your first few activities, you weren’t so lucky when it came to an evening ride of the Roue de Paris. Whether it was fate or just bad luck, after the pair in front of you had dipped out of line for reasons unknown to you, you had the shocking realization that Patrick had been in between them the whole time. So much for meeting new people on the massive ferris wheel.
You tried to look busy so he wouldn’t notice that you noticed, and did your best to think of some sort of game plan. Although you’d essentially been giving each other the silent treatment in the hours leading up to this moment, you’d caught Patrick looking at you multiple times throughout the day—something you only noticed because you’d been looking at him as well.
After a moment, the two of you were let into an empty passenger car. Sitting across from one another, it was hard to ignore the very obvious elephants in the room, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try.
At first, you simply looked out the window, not saying a single word as the ferris wheel began to move.
“You should put that safety belt on, just in case,” Patrick commented from his side of the car, pulling his eyes away from the window to look at you.
“I doubt anything will happen,” you shrugged. “It’s fine.”
He eyed you suspiciously for a moment, before leaning over and strapping you in anyway. Your breath caught in your throat, his simple action putting you into serious psychological pain. It wasn’t lost on you how much Patrick liked to take care of you. It was far more obvious when the two of you were dating, with him covering the bills for dates and doing your laundry for you. It had been so ironic to you at the time, how a man who could barely take care of himself always went out of his way to make sure that you were going to be okay.
Now, his small act of kindness just made your stomach turn. But it wasn’t like you could express any of those feelings.
“Thanks,” was all that you managed before looking out of the window once more.
An awkward, heavy silence filled the passenger car once more as the ride began to take the two of you higher.
“The view is so beautiful,” you commented, unable to remain silent anymore and hoping that your words were neutral enough not to stir any pots.
“Yeah, it’s really nice,” his gaze remained fixed out the window, before he looked at you once more as if there were words on the tip of his tongue.
“I honestly don’t know how we managed to get in line in time to see the sunset,” you continued with your boring, neutral small talk.
“I’m glad we did. This is the perfect spot to watch it.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, continuing to look out the window instead of at the man across from you. “It’s so pretty tonight, too.”
“It is,” he agreed.
The two of you sat in silence again, only the sound of a soft whirring filling your ears. Then suddenly, all at once, the whirring stopped—and so did your passenger car.
“Are we stuck?” you asked, looking out nervously at the very tall height that the two of you were currently definitely stuck at.
“We can’t be. It’ll probably start back up in a second.”
It didn’t start back up in a second. In fact, after a series of announcements in French, an announcement in English suddenly declared that it would be at least an hour before the ride could be fixed.
At the sound of the announcement, both you and Patrick sighed aloud, still synchronized even after everything you’d been through.
“Maybe this is a sign,” Patrick piped up.
“What are you talking about?” you laughed at him, hoping desperately that this didn’t mean that he wanted to continue arguing with you. You genuinely did not have it in you to do so again. You also didn’t have it in you to sleep in another hotel lobby.
“Well, I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day,” he confessed.
“Is that why you were staring at me all day?” you teased, a weak, slightly hopeful smile creeping onto your face.
“I was looking at you because I could feel you staring at me,” he clarified, as if he was setting the record straight. “I don’t want things to be like this between us anymore.”
“Yeah?” you asked, the pit of nerves in your stomach tightening at wherever he was going with his spiel. The anticipation of his words alone made you nauseous.
“So I think that we should talk about last night,” he suggested.
That was exactly what you didn’t want to hear him say. You had barely processed the argument yourself, let alone think about anything else that you had to say to Patrick that didn’t involve trying to hurt him as much as he hurt you.
“We don’t have to. It’s fine. The past is in the past,” you dismissed.
“It’s not fine, though. Not really,” he countered, all earnestness. You didn’t detect any harshness to his words or any blood in the water that indicated to you that he wanted to do anything more than have an honest conversation with you. “I was so out of line. I can’t- I don’t want you to think that I really believe the things I said about you.”
“Patrick, please…” you trailed off, hoping that he would understand that you didn’t really want to talk about this. Though, you were relieved to learn that he’d only said those things out of the heat of the moment.
“No,” he stood his ground. “We need to talk about this if we ever want our relationship to improve.”
“Fine,” you gave in. “But you start, so I can collect my thoughts.”
“Of course,” he leaned forward so he could get a better look at you, and you were immediately drawn into some intense eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for acting like a dick yesterday. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did, and I really shouldn’t have let you leave our hotel room. That was really stupid of me. I worried about you for the rest of the night and spent the morning looking for you.”
This was surprising information to you. While you did find it to be a bit of a dick move that Patrick would just let you leave like that after lecturing you about being unsafe in a new country, you hadn’t realized that he’d been late to boarding the coach because he’d been searching for you. You could only imagine the sick feeling he had as he realized he couldn’t find you anywhere.
“I’m sorry for what I said, too. Insulting you for trying to move on was really unfair of me. I was just… hurt, I guess. When I don’t even have the right to be.”
“You do, a little. We were together for a really long time, so it’s gonna feel weird that we’re starting to see other people,” you shrugged. “That was an excellent apology, that I accept, by the way.”
“Thank you. I really got a chance to practice my apology skills with the last woman I was with,” he explained. You tried to repress the feeling of jealousy that was already bubbling up in your stomach at the mention of another woman.
“Yeah?” you asked, hoping that he didn’t notice the brief twitch of your eye.
“Yeah. She’s super opinionated and outspoken, so we would butt heads a lot. But that was always something I really liked about her. That, and her magnificent ass.”
Finally, it occurred to you that he was talking about you. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, despite the fact that you were secretly very flattered by the way he was speaking about you. “Ew. Shut up,” you laughed.
“Well, if you’re done objectifying me, I would love to apologize to you too.”
“All done objectifying you. For now, at least. Go ahead.”
You were a little nervous about the words that were about to come out of your mouth. You just had so much to say, and you weren’t sure that it was all going to come out correctly.
“I’m sorry for the things I said last night. I genuinely did not mean what I said, I just got caught up in the moment. And I’m really sorry for going through your phone, because that’s seriously none of my business. It was such an unnecessary violation of trust, and I understand if you’re still pissed at me for that. And it was really ridiculous for me to overreact the way that I did over you seeing someone else, because again, it’s really not my business. I feel like I’m kinda the worst,” you confessed.
“You’re not the worst,” he countered.
“Fine, I guess. Maybe you just bring the worst out in me,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood slightly.
“That sounds more accurate. We bring out the worst in each other.”
“Right. That’s why we’re such a good pair,” you paused, then corrected yourself. “Of friends.”
“Is that what we are now?”
“I never said we were good friends.”
“Frenemies?”
“Something like that,” you said, before the familiar whirring sound of the ferris wheel began once more.
“Huh. Who would’ve thought that the only thing the wheel needed to function was an apology to each other?”
“You’re so annoying,” you laughed and shook your head. “How are we gonna make it through the rest of this trip?”
LONDON, ENGLAND
Your final few days in France had been made far less awkward by your conversation on the ferris wheel. Deciding to fully embrace the couples activities the tour had reserved for you, the two of you were having a good time re-establishing your friendship.
Your trip to London had gone mostly without a hitch, with your group arriving in the city in the evening and immediately checking in to your hotel. At this point, you had given up on even attempting to get separate beds. It seemed like every morning now you woke up cuddling with Patrick, but you weren’t necessarily mad at the unintentional intimacy.
In some ways, your relationship was beginning to feel similar to how it felt before the two of you broke up. While you were sure that things wouldn’t be exactly the same—especially since you still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room that was your breakup—it was nice to return to the comfort you’d found in your relationship with Patrick.
Like clockwork, the morning after your arrival in London, you woke up with Patrick pressed up against your back, nose buried in your hair. As he woke up, he pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline out of what you were sure was just habit rather than genuine affection.
“Morning,” he greeted you groggily, rolling away from your side.
“Morning,” you replied, turning to face him. You ran a hand through his messy morning hair and looked at him fondly. It was taking far more self control than you had to not lean over and kiss him. “What time is it?” you asked, in part to distract yourself, but also because the digital clock was on his side of the bed.
“It’s…” he trailed off as he went to read the time. “Oh shit, we’re gonna be late.”
“What?” you asked, shooting up from your relaxed position.
“It’s 8:25,” he explained, already rolling out of bed.
In a rush, the two of you got dressed in record time, making it down to the lobby in the five minutes that you had to make it on time. You shared a high-five in the lobby, and tried your best not to dwell on how the simple action felt far more domestic than it needed to.
Your tour began not too long after that, getting your day off to a strong start. Your day of exploring London was by far your busiest. You were sure that you’d accumulated thousands of steps as you went between large museums, beautiful parks, and massive landmarks. By the time that you returned to your hotel room, you were pretty sure that your legs were mush.
You returned earlier than Patrick, who had gone out to a gastropub with a group of tourists in your group that he got along well with. You took this as an opportunity to have some alone time, taking a long and steaming hot shower, frolicking around the room in a soft hotel robe, and watching a movie while you waited for your room service to arrive.
After you’d thoroughly enjoyed your alone time, finishing off your room service and opting to scroll on your phone, the door cracked open and Patrick strolled in.
“Looks like you made yourself right at home,” he observed.
“I had to after today’s tour. So much walking,” you groaned.
“It wasn’t all that bad,” he shrugged, sitting down next to you in bed.
“Well, not all of us are professional athletes,” you laughed. “How was the pub?”
“Fun. It’d be better if you came.”
“I’m sorry, I was exhausted,” you sighed. “You could’ve stayed in with me and had a spa day.”
“We can have a spa day anywhere. We can have a spa day right now.”
“Mm, I’m all spa’d out. But the water pressure in the shower is excellent, so you should definitely check that out.”
“I will in a little bit,” he said. “Did you try out the actual spa here?”
“They were closed when I checked, which really sucks, since I was in desperate need of a massage.”
“Do you still want one?” Patrick asked.
“Yeah. I’ll probably try to stop by when they’re open tomorrow and get one.”
“No, I mean, do you want a massage now?” he added.
It had been a long time since Patrick had offered you a massage—or to put his hands on you in any capacity—but you remembered him being criminally talented at giving them. You also remembered his massages usually making for great foreplay that left your knees weak and your brain a pile of jelly, but that clearly wouldn’t be the case now, and you needed to get your head out of the gutter.
“I mean, sure. That would be nice,” you tried not to sound too excited, though the prospect of a massage from him sounded very, very nice.
While the prospect of a massage sounded nice, the actual massage was heavenly. You were sure that years of having personal trainers and physical therapists work knots out of his body had made him an expert at finding knots and kinks in your own, which was now leaving you sighing happily as he ran his hands over your back.
You tried your best to ignore the dull, fiery feeling growing in your lower stomach that was surely a result of experiencing a type of intimacy that you hadn’t in quite some time. As you let out an involuntary soft sound at a particular knot being rubbed out of your shoulder, you wondered if this massage was affecting him nearly as much as it was affecting you.
You promptly received an answer to this question when something hard and phallic brushed up against your leg. You turned your head to glance back at Patrick, and his face immediately grew red.
“Sorry. I can stop, if you want. It just happened because of the noises you’re making and- whatever. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Part of you felt a little satisfied knowing that you still had that type of impact on him. It gave you a tiny glimmer of hope to know that you were still, at the least, physically attracted to one another.
“It’s fine. I’ll shut up.”
“You don’t have to. I want this to be as relaxing as possible for you.”
“Well you’re doing a great job, if you couldn’t tell from all of the moaning and groaning on my end.”
You both somehow made it through the rest of the massage without spilling all over the bed, but as you melted into the bed, feeling every muscle in your body relaxed from your excellent massage, you couldn’t help but note the suspiciously long time Patrick was spending in the shower. And maybe it was just your imagination, but if you listened hard enough, you swore you could hear the sound of a soft chanting of your name coming from the other side of the bathroom door.
While part of you regretted not suggesting that the two of you help each other out with your mutual problems, you were pretty sure that it was for the best. You genuinely didn’t know where the two of you stood, as far as your relationship went. Hooking up would surely further complicate an already complicated situation, since you were pretty sure that ex-fiancés didn’t typically sleep together. But then again, ex-fiancés also didn’t usually go on a honeymoon despite not being together. Your complicated feelings on the matter only further proved to you that you made the right choice by not giving in to your baser desires.
By the time Patrick joined you in bed, you were already half asleep. Yet, even in your delirious state, you didn’t miss the way he came up behind you, pulling you into a loving embrace. It brought warmth to your chest to know that he couldn’t even wait for your automatic sleep routine to hold you, and that he felt the need to take matters into his own hands.
You were pretty sure that exes didn’t do that either.
AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS
You didn’t know what you expected from your first ferry ride, but being face deep in a barf bag while soothing circles were rubbed into your back was certainly not it.
Given that you weren’t a frequent rider of large vessels on bodies of water, you had no clue going into the ride that things would go so sideways so quickly for you. If anything, you thought you might have the opportunity to stare peacefully out into the water, or to force Patrick to take a few cute pictures of you. Unfortunately, you were currently doing neither of those things—and it didn’t seem like you’d be doing them any time soon.
You heaved once more, now almost totally sure that you had nothing left to give. Patrick continued to hold your hair out of your face with one hand and use his other to comfortingly rub your back, not at all fazed by your sickness. If you weren’t currently fighting off another wave of nausea and didn’t have the taste of bile lingering in your mouth, you probably could’ve kissed the man.
Once your brain finally told you the coast was clear, you leaned your head back and took several deep, gasping breaths of air.
“You alright, honey?” he asked you, and you didn’t even have the strength—physical or mental—to correct his use of a pet name.
“I could be better,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tilted your head back. “There’s medicine for this, right?”
“Yeah. Let me go see if I can find some.”
As you fought off a war of nausea and headache that was currently beating you on all fronts, you could faintly hear the sound of Patrick asking the people around you if they had any medicine for motion sickness. He eventually returned after what felt like a lifetime, but was probably more like a few minutes, carrying a bottle of Dramamine.
He helped you take the pill, putting it in your mouth then holding a bottle of water up to your lips to help you swallow it. The action felt oddly romantic, though it was more of a matter of practicality compared to anything else. You were clearly not in a stable enough space to get the pill down on your own, so his assistance wasn’t really anything for you to be over analyzing.
“Look at you, keeping that down,” he teased, running his hand up and down your arm. The motion was soothing, a bit of bodily comfort amongst a plethora of other awful physical pains you were experiencing. “You’re doing great.”
His soft caresses turned into a full-blown hug, with Patrick pulling you into a tight embrace. While the action itself was rather cute—especially since it seemed to be completely impulsive on his part—it instantly brought on a new wave of nausea.
“Pat?” you squeaked.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“You’re sweet. But if we stay like this, I am going to be sick all over you.”
He pulled away from you with concern, careful not to move too quickly to set off another bout of sickness. While he let go of your body, he continued to hold your hand, as if he were attempting to ground you. With how anxious he was looking, he might’ve been trying to ground himself as well.
It was cute seeing him so worried about you. You tried your best not to read too much into it, and luckily, your slowly fading nausea was the perfect distraction from doing so.
“Thank you for the drugs. It was fun watching you scramble all around asking people for help. You’re such a good…” you paused, not really knowing what you were or what to say. “Ex.”
Now wasn’t exactly the ideal time to have the, ‘what are we?’ conversation, but Patrick didn’t seem to mind. And if he did mind, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it.
“Only the best for my ex.” Maybe you’d just been imaging it, but you swore you sensed a bit of hesitation on his end as he called you his ex. Admittedly, it would be significantly easier for both of you to be calling each other spouses, or even partners. But alas, you weren’t either of those things to each other anymore.
As if you’d read each other's minds, the two of you quickly moved on from that conversation.
After you’d arrived and gotten settled into Amsterdam, you set off to explore the city. When presented with a few options of things to do, Patrick insisted that the two of you go on a bike tour, much to your own chagrin. As much as you weren’t sure your legs could handle any more strenuous physical activity, you’d known that Patrick had wanted to take this bike tour since your trip was an actual honeymoon. Who were you to deny him of that?
As the two of you toured the very beautiful city, Patrick made sure to make a show out of his biking skills. While he was no professional cyclist, he certainly had the ego of one—which translated to him going a little too hard at times and nearly falling off of his bike more than once.
Each time he almost fell, you found yourself also almost falling, the onset of laughter at the ridiculous man riding next to you nearly being too much to handle. Without fail, every time the two of you did your almost falling, then break into a howling laughter routine, you were given dirty looks by your fellow tour mates. Unfortunately, that only made the situation funnier to you and Patrick.
By the time the tour had wrapped, it was clear that everyone was sick and tired of you. But at least this time, the people around you were sick of the girlish giggles Patrick pulled from you, rather than the rude words he provoked you into saying, like he’d done on the plane.
It was refreshing to be spending time with him like this. In the time that you’d been so upset about your break up, you forgot about just how good it felt to be around Patrick when your relationship was going well.
It was also nice to be spending some alone time with him, away from the rest of your tour group. As the two of you looked at strange knick-knacks in an antique store, you realized just how much you missed being alone with him. While it was nice that the two of you had made friends within your group, your dynamic as a duo was obviously something really special. Maybe that’s why the two of you had been together for so long.
You spent the majority of the afternoon doubled over in laughter, playfully teasing Patrick, or being on the receiving end of subtle, gentle touches. As you really began to think about it, this day of travel had been your favorite—by a long shot. It also happened to be the day that felt most like one from a honeymoon.
Although it had already been clear to you for some time that you still had feelings for Patrick, the day you had spent together had completely sealed the deal. Once Patrick had surprised you with a beautiful bouquet of flowers over dinner, you’d only been more sure that you were sick with love for your ex.
It was a small miracle that you’d rounded out the day without confessing your feelings, particularly since you ended the evening with a movie playing on the television of your hotel room that the two of you barely paid attention to, as Patrick held you and talked about some of the things you’d missed while the two of you were separated.
In the morning, you woke up to the soft sound of chatter, rather than your loud alarm clock or the sound of deep breaths in the shell of your ear.
From what you could faintly make out from the words and the lack of a warm body beside you, Patrick was on the phone with his mother. You wanted to feel bad for eavesdropping, especially since you’d just had an argument with Patrick over your snooping habit just over a week ago, but it was far too difficult not to listen in.
“I’m glad you liked the picture,” you made out from the muffled words behind the doorway. You were sure he was referencing the selfie the two of you took in front of Big Ben a few days ago. You also liked the photo a lot, with the two of you looking particularly good and particularly happy. You’d also taken a more baity photo of him kissing your cheek, specifically to send to his mother who he knew would be overjoyed to see you. While Patrick had explained the idea behind the picture as his mom simply wanting to see you, you knew the more accurate statement is that his mom wanted to see the two of you together.
After a beat, there was a soft chuckle. “No, we’re not back together. No mom, there’s no ‘yet.’ I know. I’m an idiot, I know- aren’t you supposed to take your child’s side? Well, I don’t know if you know this, but we never ended up getting married, so no, she’s not your daughter. How could she possibly be your favorite child! We just talked about this. I’m gonna hang up. I’m serious. Alright. Love you, bye.”
When Patrick returned, you were already sitting up in bed.
“Can you tell your mom I say hi next time?” you asked with a cheeky grin on your face, still coming off of the high that was the romantic outing you’d had the day prior.
“I’m sure she’d love to hear that,” he replied, getting back into bed beside you. “She probably wants to hear from you more than she wants to hear from me.”
You laughed and shook your head, not bothering to argue with his words since you both knew they were pretty accurate.
“I mean, I’m sure she’ll be inviting you to Thanksgiving and Christmas long after we’ve moved on with other people and have our own families.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. You were sure of it. You thought you could genuinely feel the movement of your most vital organ slowly sinking into a pit of stomach acid.
You tried not to let your smile falter, considering that Patrick was looking right at you with a sweet look of his own plastered on his face. You wondered if this was some sort of test, to gauge how you felt after a day of rekindling the love the two of you thought had burnt out.
Or maybe, more realistically, he’d already come to accept the reality that you’d been stalling on accepting: your relationship was truly over. One fun day wouldn’t change the fact that your wedding had been called off, and that the two of you said things to each other that would alter the foundations of any solid relationship for years to come.
Your heart was such a traitor. She refused to accept the simple fact that Patrick wanted to move on, and that your relationship was a thing of the past. Maybe, if you couldn’t convince your heart to accept that truth, you might be able to force your brain to.
“And I’ll still be accepting that invitation, thank you very much,” you stated, trying to sound confident in your words. “In the meantime, let’s get ready before we miss this bus. You can tell me what your mom’s menu is gonna look like this year on our ride over.”
SOMEWHERE IN CENTRAL GERMANY
It was stupid for you to be torn up the way that you were over just a few simple words, but the more you thought about it, the worse you felt.
In reality, it wasn’t just what Patrick had said to you in the hotel room. It was the fact that he’d been actively trying to move on with other people since who knew when, and the way he seemed to frequently verbally reiterate the fact that your relationship was over. By holding out hope that you might somehow be able to repair your relationship, you were being much more naïve than you even realized.
You felt stupid. But you also felt confused, because as much as Patrick swore he was over you, and pursued other people, he was also far too comfortable acting like nothing had changed between you two. After all, he was the one flirting with you, and trying to attach himself at the hip to you as you traveled. He was the one who always managed to end up spooning you over the course of the night and woke up kissing whatever part of your body he was closest to. For god's sake, he’d just told you yesterday about how he’d searched high and low to find a bouquet of flowers that he thought you would genuinely like. And most damningly, you hadn’t forgotten the look of hurt on his face when he found out that you had slept with someone else. That wasn’t the behavior of someone who was over their partner.
To say you were receiving mixed messages was a complete understatement. You couldn’t understand how it was possible that the man who was currently leaning against you very affectionately, despite being on a cramped bus, was also totally over you and wanted to move on.
You didn’t know what you wanted to do about the situation, but you were sure that you couldn’t keep going like this.
Your bus stopped somewhere in Germany for the evening, letting you all out to have dinner and do some light sightseeing before regrouping in the morning and heading to Prague. Somehow, that translated to going to a bar to try out German beer for you, Patrick, and a few of the friends you’d made while traveling.
After a brief intermission of checking into your hotel room, your small group met up in the lobby, then set off to find a bar.
Drinking while you were feeling a little upset probably wasn’t your brightest idea. The speed and volume at which you were consuming alcohol was a little concerning, but not nearly as concerning as how much Patrick was drinking. Eventually, even in your drunken state, you realized that you should probably slow down—if nothing else, to take care of him.
But the two of you continued on, going from bar to bar, getting drunk at a level that probably would’ve been acceptable when you were younger, but was certainly going to take a major toll on you now.
Forgetting about the repercussions of the future, you two were having a great time. Despite you being out with a group, it felt a little bit like the two of you were in your own little bubble. Nothing else in the world seemed to matter as the two of you took shots and danced together. Not the people around you, not the fact that you had to be up early the next morning to make it onto your coach, not even the fact that Patrick had implied that the two of you would move on and have families with other people only a few days ago.
By the time that the rest of your group had called it quits, explaining that they wanted to be up and functional in time for your ride the next morning, you and Patrick were still in your own little world. It was only after you’d shared a few drunk cigarettes that the two of you decided that the fun should end, and that it was time to head back to your hotel.
Unfortunately for you, midway through your trek back home, your drinking buddy had given up on walking, leaving you tasked with literally dragging him all the way back to your hotel. While a sober version of yourself would’ve been annoyed by the inconvenience, all you could really think about was how nice it was to have his body so close to yours.
After a tumultuous journey back, the two of you finally made it back to your hotel room. You had only been in the room for a matter of seconds before Patrick collapsed onto the bed and let out a loud sigh of relief, followed by an even louder yawn, as if he was the one who had just carried you down the road.
It was annoyingly endearing.
You had half the mind to at least get somewhat ready before getting into bed, shedding your outermost layer of clothing before joining Patrick in bed.
“Thank you,” he said to you once you laid down next to him.
“Mhm,” you hummed, your head still pleasantly buzzing from the alcohol. “But I’m never doing that again.”
“Aww, why? We had so much fun,” he practically whined. “I always have so much fun when we’re together.”
“I had fun, but you’re so heavy. You’d never guess it. All those muscles,” in the midst of your complaining, you reached over to grab his bicep to demonstrate his point.
He laughed, which made you laugh, though you didn’t exactly know what you were laughing at. Then, out of the blue, he randomly said your name in a very serious tone.
“Can you help me with something?” he asked, sounding very genuine and giving you a look that you couldn’t quite place in your drunken state.
“Anything,” you replied earnestly and meant it. You would probably do literally anything that he asked you to do at that moment. Move a mountain? You’d start pushing. Marry him? You’d wake up an officiant and come up with vows on the spot. Help him hide a body? You were sure you could find a shovel somewhere.
“Can you help me get my shoes off?” he lifted a foot as he spoke to demonstrate his point, a little pout on his lips. You were a little disappointed that he hadn’t asked you for anything else, but you also weren’t quite sure what it was that you wanted him to ask you for.
You groaned playfully, a long and drawn out sound that you hoped would communicate that you were exhausted after dragging him through the city and comfortable where you were laying. Still, you leaned over and untied his shoes before gently slipping them off. When you looked back up at Patrick, his pants were newly half undone and halfway off, but it looked as if he had given up fully taking his pants off.
“Need help with that too?” you asked, though you were already working on slipping the article of clothing off of his legs.
Though you tried to push the thought out of your mind, you couldn’t help but recall a similar night the two of you shared several years ago. Your relationship was still relatively new, but you were already very obviously in love. So in love that you’d gone out of your way to set up a surprise party to celebrate a particularly successful tennis match, decorating your apartment with photos of him with trophies and other tennis paraphernalia and inviting as many of his close friends that you could track down. Still riding the high of winning and his all-consuming adoration of you, Patrick had partied a little too hard, leaving you in charge of tucking him in at the end of the night.
After bringing him a glass of water, the man snuggled into your sheets and slurred out a comment about how they smelled like you. You felt your cheeks warm as he continued on in a disjointed ramble, talking about how much he appreciated you and how no one had ever gone out of their way to make him feel like that before. He ended his monologue with a request for you to help him take his clothes off, and you happily obliged. It was tender and far more intimate than you’d expected, and ended in a drawn out kiss that left you giggling as you told Patrick that he tasted like Smirnoff Ice.
Even as inebriated as you currently were, the nostalgia made you feel a little dizzy.
By the time you’d finished helping him get his pants off, Patrick had clearly given up on getting his shirt off, too. Once again, you moved your hands up his body and helped him out with the piece of fabric.
“Look at that. All ready for bed,” you commented, setting a hand on his bare chest. The small action made your heart soar, and you promptly decided that it was probably better for you to avoid touching him altogether.
“My watch?” Patrick asked, lifting his wrist up to show you the accessory.
“You can take your watch off yourself,” you replied, leaning back into bed and finally laying down.
“Fine.”
“Night, Patty,” you said, reaching over to turn out the bedside lamp.
“Wait,” he paused pensively, as if he was digging deep in the recesses of his mind to conjure up what he was about to say. “A kiss?”
“Patrick!” you gasped, sounding far more scandalized by the proposition than you actually were. Of course you would give him a kiss, you just weren’t sure you were ready to open up that can of worms, especially after you’d had a minor crisis at the realization that he genuinely wanted to move on.
“No goodnight kiss? C’mon. Fully commit to tucking me in,” Patrick insisted, as if it was the most logical thing ever. As if either of you had the self control to not let something as simple as a kiss spiral out of control.
“Fine,” you sighed before pressing a gentle peck to his forehead, figuring that was the safest place to do so. A forehead kiss was about as platonic as it got with you. “Sweet dreams.”
“Thank you,” he said, rather sweetly as his eyes shut. “Love you.”
Those words instantly gave you pause, causing you to suddenly feel very alert and very sober.
“Sorry, what did you just say?”
“I said I love you?” Patrick repeated, looking at you with confusion. “What?”
“Nothing,” though it was very much not nothing. In fact, if his confession was true, it would change everything. “Go to bed.”
“Wait, what?” Patrick grabbed your arm, looking very worried in the low light of the room. “You’re mad. You’re mad that I love you?”
You didn’t even know how you were supposed to react to that admission. While it had been exactly what you’d been dying to hear from him for months, it only further complicated your already very complicated situation.
“I’m not mad, I’m… I’m just tired. Let’s go to sleep, okay?”
Your explanation seemed to placate Patrick enough to let it go and go to sleep. He shuffled around to get comfortable behind you, before pulling you in to hold you as he’d done for the entirety of the trip. Except, tonight, it didn’t feel quite right. The mixture of his frequent rejections of you, paired with his casual confession that he still loved you made your head spin.
The following morning, you woke up with a pounding in your head and a gross taste in your mouth—only one of which, you could fully attribute to the drinking you’d done last night. You clumsily reached for your phone, and found yourself pleasantly surprised to find an announcement about the delay of the next bus you would be getting on.
You got out of bed with a grunt, your entire body aching with the reminder of having to drag Patrick through the city last night. Somehow, the sore muscles didn’t hurt nearly as much compared to the memory of being told that Patrick still loved you.
You slowly paced back and forth around your hotel room, desperately trying to organize your racing thoughts. Did Patrick actually mean what he said last night? Or had been caught up in the heat of the moment? If anything, the latter seemed more likely, since he’d been very obviously trying to distance himself from you. But had he really been distancing himself from you, or just talking about distancing himself from you? If his care for you on the ferry had been any indication of how he really felt about you, it was possible that his drunken words were more honest than you were trying to convince yourself that they were.
Finally, you decided to stop annoying the person staying in the room under you with your increasingly frantic pacing, and to go outside to walk. Some fresh air would be good for you anyway.
“Where’re you going?” a muffled voice, heavy with sleep asked. You paused the tying of your shoes to look over at the bed, where Patrick was currently squinting at you.
“I’m just going for a walk,” you told him. “Go back to sleep. The coach is coming late.”
“Wait for me. I’ll come with you.”
That was probably the last thing you needed or wanted. After all, the whole purpose of your walk was to help you sort out your thoughts about Patrick. To say he wasn’t a welcome addition to your trip was an understatement.
“Okay,” you said anyway, against your better judgment. It seemed like you hadn’t been using much of your judgment at all on this trip. What was one more poor decision on top of a series of poor decisions?
You watched him get ready from where you were sitting, quietly impressed with his ability to get up and be functional despite surely being just as hungover—if not more—than you. He also seemed wholly unaffected by the conversation you’d had last night, which was something that you certainly couldn’t say for yourself.
With sunglasses perched on your nose and the weight of your entire relationship placed on your shoulders, the two of you headed out into the city, walking on the same sidewalks that you’d practically carried Patrick down the previous night.
“Last night was fun,” Patrick commented, making small talk with you as you began to head down the street.
“Some parts,” you agreed, hoping that he’d recall you grunting as you lugged him down the street, rather than your shock when he told you that he still loved you.
“I honestly don’t remember most of the night,�� Patrick said with a chuckle that almost sounded a little forced. You couldn’t be sure if he was being honest or searching for a cop out for the things he’d told you before you went to sleep, but you weren’t sure that it really mattered.
“Unfortunately, I do,” you replied.
“Oh no. I hope I wasn’t too much of a pain.”
“You were like, slightly above average in terms of being a pain. Nothing I’m not used to.” You figured that maybe you could banter your way out of this situation. Perhaps if you just pretended that everything was okay, things would magically become okay.
But that didn’t feel alright. In fact, it wasn’t alright. If you ever wanted to improve your relationship with Patrick, you had to stop beating around the bush with him. You were both adults. You’d been together for years, yet you felt like you wasted far too much time not being straightforward with your thoughts and feelings. If there was going to be a next time for the two of you, you wanted things to be different.
“You did say something kinda interesting last night, though.” While it had been easy to talk up a big game in your head, you immediately regretted the words that came out of your mouth. Regardless, it was too late for you to back out.
Patrick laughed nervously before asking, “what?”
“You just… you kinda told me you still have feelings for me, or whatever. I just think, maybe we should talk about it. Or at least talk about us.”
The man next to you paled at your words. Your regret for bringing the topic up immediately grew exponentially.
“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” Patrick said, though he was lying through his teeth and both of you knew it. You wanted to approach this topic with civility and an open mind, but his blatant lie was making that a rather difficult task.
“Are you kidding? We’ve been tip-toeing around it this entire trip.”
“We’re broken up. You called off our wedding. I don’t think it gets any more straightforward than that,” he dismissed with a gross simplification of the state of your relationship.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. And even if it was, all I said was that I didn't think I was ready to get married. You put the final nail in the coffin when you told me you fell out of love with me. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to interpret you not being in love with me anymore when you still act the way that you act with me.”
You could tell the direction this conversation was going, your discussion quickly veering into argument territory as Patrick began to invade your space as he always did when you argued.
“And how exactly do I act with you?” he challenged, though you were sure he knew exactly what you were talking about.
“Do you want me to give you a list or something?” you asked, his anger becoming contagious.
“Sure, why not,” he said drily.
“Fine. Let’s start with the cuddling, then. Please enlighten me, do you know any exes who spoon regularly? I mean, I certainly don’t. I don’t even touch my friends like that. So I don’t know what that really makes us. Or maybe how jealous you got when you saw me with someone else. I really can’t think of any sort of platonic explanation for that, and trust me, I’ve tried. And while we’re at it, I guess I should mention those showers. I respect the hell out of your faith in the thickness of these hotel walls, but I actually can hear you moaning my name while you’re in there. I’m honestly a little flattered, but I’m mostly confused.”
“Like you’re not doing the same,” Patrick scoffed. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was masking his true feelings with hostility, and though you wanted to engage in an actual conversation with him, you weren’t sure you would be able to take the high road in this conversation.
“Sure, but I’m not the one in denial of what’s going on here!”
“I’m not in denial. Have you ever considered that maybe I want to move on?”
“Do you, though?” you asked, pausing on the sidewalk.
“Clearly, I do,” he stopped right along with you, now really getting in your face.
“Clearly,” you repeated with a laugh. “Maybe you should start acting like it.”
“Maybe you should stop clinging to the past.”
His piercing gaze was unwavering as he waited to read your reaction. You knew how he liked to play this game, looking for an indication of any sort of weakness from you. You refused to give him that, though his words cut deep.
“Okay,” you said calmly, though you were very much not feeling calm on the inside. “Well, thanks for letting me know how you really feel. Or how you think you feel. I don’t really know anymore. And I don’t think you know either.”
PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC
If you had known that telling Patrick that he drunkenly confessed to loving you would’ve broken the already very delicate relationship the two of you had built back up, you never would’ve said anything at all. As it turned out, having some of Patrick was better than not having him at all.
The contempt he now felt for you had become so strong that he didn’t even seem to be able to look at you. He sat next to a different person on the bus to Prague, not even sparing you a glance. When you arrived at the hotel, he made it a point to ask for separate rooms—something the two of you hadn’t done the entirety of your trip. As your tour began, he seemed to make a strong effort to separate himself from you, standing in the back of your group when you were in the front and vice versa.
Usually, even after your worst arguments, you’d been able to find the time to talk out your feelings, but now it seemed like Patrick couldn’t even find it in himself to give you that.
You wanted to be mad at Patrick too. You were mad at him. But you missed him more than you were angry with him, and you yearned to be with him, no matter how crazy his constant antics drove you.
Part of you felt frustrated that your relationship had become so cyclical since your breakup. You weren’t sure you could handle another cycle of fighting to the point of real anger, then making up with your relationship still a little more strained than it was in the past. You just wanted Patrick. Why did things have to be any more complicated than that?
You desperately clung on to any bits of hope that your relationship might persist, coming out of this argument altered, but still existing. You snuck peeks at Patrick while you toured a beautiful castle and tried to bite your tongue until you stopped thinking of how badly you wanted to grab him and joke about his home looking like that castle. You wondered if he wanted to put your initials on a lock and put it on a bridge as much as you did. You wished you could ask him if he missed the warm body in bed beside him the way you did.
But every time you looked at him, he was pointedly not looking at you. As your group paused on the bridge to allow couples the time to make their own locks, Patrick didn’t even spare a glance in your direction. You were sure that even if he did miss you in bed, or wherever else, he would never tell you about it.
You didn’t want it to be over—but you couldn’t keep clinging to hope that it wasn’t.
GENEVA, SWITZERLAND
Getting to view the breathtaking scenery of the Swiss Alps as you sat on a cable car had been a dream of yours for years. What wasn’t included in that dream was dodging the glare of your ex-fiancé as the two of you sat in silence on that very gondola.
Unluckily for the two of you, you were stuck together for the afternoon. Private skiing lessons in the Swiss Alps sounded like a great, even romantic, idea while you were planning the trip, but it was far from romantic now.
The two of you stood on opposite sides of your instructor, the tension between you so thick that in the midst of his safety spiel, he paused to ask if everything was okay between you. After a stilted reply of yes, your instructor looked at you both skeptically before carrying on.
Seeing as Patrick was an athlete who spent his childhood school breaks in Aspen, he was pretty decent at skiing already. Far better than you, a novice who was moving a little bit like a giraffe standing on its feet for the first time.
While it wasn’t your first time skiing—that had been on a family vacation you’d tagged along on with the Zweigs—you certainly were not experienced enough to be keeping up with Patrick, who had the experience and the ego to give even your instructor a run for his money.
It was entertaining to watch him in his element, his competitive side coming out despite the fact there was no competition anywhere to be found. He was significantly faster than you wherever you went, and skied with a confidence that you doubted you would ever be able to exhibit. In the past, this behavior may have been slightly endearing to you, but right now, it was mostly a little annoying.
You and your instructor stood above Patrick, watching him effortlessly glide down the mountain in front of you. If you weren’t so agitated, you might actually have been impressed. As if your instructor was actively reading your mind, he leaned over to say something to you.
“I think he’s trying to impress you,” he said quietly, though the subject of your conversation was an entire slope away.
You nearly choked on your own saliva at the observation. “No way.”
“What do you mean no way?” he laughed. “Trust me, I’ve been doing this for years, and I’ve seen it all. Couples, crushes, friends, coworkers. I know posturing when I see it.”
“Trust me, he could care less.”
He looked at you with a doubting squint. “Why don’t we go down there and ask him?”
“Absolutely not,” you laughed. The thought of asking Patrick anything after the interactions you’d had seemed absolutely ridiculous. At this point, you wouldn’t even ask him what time it was.
“Sorry. Let me rephrase that. That was me telling you that it’s time for you to go down the slope.”
You looked downhill at where you needed to go, noting that it was far steeper than what you’d been practicing on leading up to this point. You had been looking for an excuse to stall going down it, but now that your instructor had said something about that, you couldn’t not go.
After taking a deep breath, you began to go down. Gaining a bit of speed, you also found yourself growing slightly more confident, closing your eyes and feeling the cold air press against your body. While you were enjoying your speed at first, it was quickly growing out of hand, and you began to panic as you realized just how fast you were going. Desperately trying to pull your skis into a V shape to slow down, you were horrified at the realization that you were far too late, and actively heading towards a cluster of trees. You didn’t know what to do other than to accept your fate, and everything had happened so fast anyway that you found yourself tumbling into a tree, a searing pain on your ankle and tailbone as you laid out on the rocky ground.
Everything felt like it was moving slowly and quickly at the same time. One second, you were alone in the snow, and the next, Patrick and your ski instructor were hovering over you, goggles on their foreheads as they looked at you with concern.
“Are you okay?” you were finally able to make out once the slight ringing in your ears had ceased.
“Did you see how hard she crashed? Of course she isn’t fucking okay,” Patrick’s voice huffed, though slightly muffled from your helmet covering your ears.
“My ankle,” you said, as if that gave them enough context. You wondered if they could see the tears beginning to pool under your goggles. The pair looked at your limb, though with your snowsuit covering it, they really couldn’t see much.
“Can you walk?” your instructor asked you.
“I haven’t tried, but I’m gonna go with no.”
“We’re gonna have someone check you out. Don’t worry, they’ll be here soon,” your ski instructor told you. You blinked a few times and mustered all the strength you could to nod.
The longer you sat, the more you began to realize how badly everything hurt. From your head down to your surely swollen ankle, you weren’t feeling too hot. You closed your eyes, suddenly feeling very exhausted. Maybe a quick little nap was exactly what you needed to feel a little better.
“Hey, don’t do that. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell, so you might have a concussion.”
“I don’t, I’m just tired,” you explained, though you didn’t know for a fact that it was true. In fact, with the pounding in your head, you more likely than not had a mild concussion.
“Well, you kinda have to stay awake,” Patrick told you, though he surely knew it was easier said than done. You were surprised when you felt his gloved hand take yours and squeezed your hand softly. “Hey, why don’t you tell us a story?” he suggested, clearly just trying to keep you awake.
“Do you wanna hear the story about how he proposed to me?” you asked the instructor. You weren’t sure why that was the first thing to pop into your head, but it was a long enough story to keep you awake until help arrived. You wished your goggles were slightly less tinted, so you could at least see the scandalized expression Patrick was probably making. You loved when you made him react like that, since the roles were usually reversed.
“Well, yeah. Of course,” your instructor responded with a hint of a laugh. “You guys are engaged?” he directed towards Patrick.
“This is our honeymoon,” you replied before Patrick had an opportunity to respond. You wished you could see the confused look that your instructor was surely making.
“So what happened?”
“When he proposed?” you asked to clarify.
“...Sure.”
“Well, for a little context, Patrick here is a professional tennis player. He’s really good too. So given my athletic ability, as you got to see today, I never really played with him. Like, he would always ask me to just play a fun, quick little round and I would always tell him no. Mostly because I knew he would crush me. I did play a little bit back in the day, but I was nowhere near his level. I mostly preferred to be on the sideline while we dated. I mean, I came to every single one of his games. I’m pretty sure my office introduced remote work to us because of me, since I was traveling all the time to see him.
“Anyway, one day, after a day of buttering me up, and I mean, he was really laying it on thick. I don’t know how I didn’t think something was up,” you laughed as you recalled the day, how Patrick had scheduled a nail appointment for you, then wined and dined you during a very romantic midday picnic. “But he asked me to play a little bit of tennis with him. I think I just thought he spent the day buttering me up so that I would play tennis with him, not that I would agree to marry him, but I digress.
“We get to the tennis court and Patrick’s nervous like I’ve never seen him. He was a little jittery all day, but this was a different beast. Looking back, I really don’t understand why. He should’ve known I was going to say yes. Anyway, we’re playing, and somehow I win, even though I’m extremely rusty and have absolutely awful form. Obviously I knew Patrick threw the match for me, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna gloat at him.
“So I’m doing my victory spiel and I walk over to his side of the court, where he’s digging in his bag. He’s so quiet, which should’ve been a sign that something was up, and I’m thinking he’s about to pull out more tennis balls and tell me we’re doing a rematch, so he can really crush me. Instead, he pulls out a box and gets down on one knee. He gives me a speech about how he didn’t care if he never won another game of tennis in his life, because as long as we were together, he was a winner. It was really sweet. Obviously I said yes.”
You finally looked over at Patrick, though you couldn’t perfectly read his expression through the darkened lens of your goggles. You wondered if he felt any of the same feelings that were currently simmering in your own chest. Though, you didn’t get to stew too long, as help arrived just as your story came to a close.
You were taken to an infirmary and given a series of tests, some to see the state of your head and other to see how the rest of your body was doing. Surprisingly, you made it out without too much serious damage. Your ankle was sprained, but nothing that would make it take too long to heal. You had a concussion, which surprised you, given your ability to recall so many details earlier in the day, but it was a very mild one. At least you’d made it back into your hotel in one piece.
You really just wanted to relax for the rest of the evening, and you had plans to do exactly that, when there was suddenly a soft rapping at your door.
You got up, and with help from the crutches you were provided, you hobbled to the door and opened it. On the other side was Patrick, who you were both surprised and unsurprised to see.
“Hey. I got your room number from the front desk,” Patrick told you. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“Sure, but I’m probably going to sleep soon,” with some effort, you sidestepped the doorway to let him in.
“Do you need anything? Want anything?” he asked as he made himself at home in your room, evaluating what you already had.
“I’m good, I think.”
“How’re you feeling? They wouldn’t let me see you at the infirmary.”
“I’ve been better,” you shrugged, sitting down on the foot of your bed to take some pressure off of your aching ankle.
“I bet. Are you icing that?” he asked, gesturing to your most obvious injury.
“I haven’t been able to make it out to the ice machine,” you confessed, though the doctor had suggested ice for the inflammation.
“Let me go grab some for you,” he said before disappearing out into the hallway. Once he left, you laid back in bed, letting out a sigh of relief at how much better being flat felt.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like being taken care of this way. It seemed like no matter how bad things got between the two of you, you would always care for one another in some capacity. You wondered what had gone through Patrick’s mind when he saw you hurt yourself. You wondered if that changed anything in the way he felt about you.
He knocked on the door once more to tell you he was back, though the door was already unlocked.
“If there’s anything else you need, I mean anything at all, just call me. I’m just down the hall from you,” he told you as he bagged up the ice he retrieved.
He sat down on the foot of the bed, where you’d previously been sitting, and tenderly set the bag of ice on your ankle, clearly not wanting to hurt you any more than you were already hurt. He looked at you a little sadly before standing back up, not wanting to linger in your presence too long.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he explained, already turning to head towards the door.
“Thanks, Patrick,” you paused, looking for any other words you had for him. “Good night.”
“Night.”
SOMEWHERE IN ITALY
The next few days in Switzerland had been extremely boring. Due to doctor’s orders, you mainly stayed in bed, avoiding screens by reading books, and looking out the window to view the mountains that you were currently missing.
Although you had to miss a lot of the fun your tour was going on, like a cheese and chocolate tour, you somehow still received an anonymous delivery of cheeses and chocolates—though, you were pretty sure you knew who was responsible for that.
Patrick didn’t seem like he wanted to overstep any boundaries, which you respected, though you really could’ve used some company whose ear you could talk off. Hell, you’d even take another nasty argument over the resounding silence of your room.
Luckily for you, by the time your group was traveling once again, you were starting to feel slightly better, concussion and ankle-wise. Though, your head was starting to hurt from listening to a person at the front of the bus go on about how much they needed the bus to pull over somewhere.
After a period of incessant complaining from someone on your bus, the vehicle finally came to a stop at a small rest stop in the middle of the Italian countryside.
Not willing to pass up an opportunity to stretch your legs, you got off at the stop, briefly stopping inside the building to look at what they had to offer before stepping behind the building, watching the wind blow through the overgrown weeds.
Your attempt at enjoying the quiet, idyllic countryside was disturbed when you were joined by a smoking companion.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said.
Before you could stop it, a sad smile appeared on your face. The two of you hadn’t spoken since your brief conversation in your hotel room, despite the mystery snack deliveries and the promise of coming if you called.
“I’ve been worried about you,” he said plainly.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” you dismissed.
“You’ve spent the last few days all alone in a room with a concussion.”
“It’s mild.”
“You fucked up your ankle.”
“It’s healing. It’s not all that bad.”
“Well, I’ve been worried anyway,” he passed you his partially smoked cigarette and you took a drag from it, though you were sure that was one of the things you shouldn’t be doing with a concussion.
“Thanks, I guess.” you said. “So is this just a wellness check, or…?”
“No, well, yes. Obviously I was worried about you physically, but I also was wondering about how you were in general.”
It was strange to see him clumsily mince his words, given how bold he usually was.
“Oh? What changed between here and Germany?”
“What changed? What changed was that I watched you almost die.”
You laughed aloud at his over dramatization of the event. “Patrick, I did not almost die.”
“How would I have known that? I just saw you flying downhill out of control and crashing and it terrified me. I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it.”
You weren’t sure how you were supposed to interpret his words, especially after the wild ride you’d been on throughout the trip. You weren’t sure you could handle another emotional bait and switch.
“Pat, maybe we should talk about this later. The bus is probably taking off soon.”
“No,” he stopped you with a hand on your arm, calling you back with a desperation you hadn’t seen in him in a long time. “I don’t want to waste another second without you.”
“Okay,” you said, though you weren’t sure that you should buy into it yet. “Go ahead, then.”
“I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you or don’t want to be with you,” he confessed, which genuinely took you by surprise. With the way he’d been dodging your attempts at building a connection, you certainly didn’t think he’d tell you something like that.
“Then why have you been pretending?” you asked, hoping that your somewhat harsh words didn’t betray your genuine curiosity behind his behavior.
“I don’t know,” he said. It was a terrible, unsatisfying answer. One that didn’t explain a single reason behind his behavior. “I guess I just can’t wrap my head around the idea that anyone would want to keep me around long-term.”
You looked at him with shock in your eyes, your mouth slightly agape at the confession. You couldn’t imagine Patrick, overconfident, bold, and self-assured, who you’d been dating for years, not feeling secure in your relationship–to the point where he’d been actively trying to push you away out of anticipating how you’d feel about him.
“When you told me you weren’t ready to be with me, it just confirmed everything I’d been worried about—that one day you would wake up next to me and realize that I wasn’t the guy you wanted. I guess it just happened sooner than I anticipated.”
You almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “If you felt like that, then why’d you tell me you weren’t in love with me anymore?”
“I thought if you were gonna leave me anyway, I might as well beat you to the punch.”
You were giving it your all to keep it together at this point, feeling slightly vindicated to know that Patrick was lying about no longer loving you, but mostly devastated that your whole relationship had been uprooted over an assumption that Patrick had made about you.
“I… I don’t even know what to say,” you looked out into the grass, then back at Patrick. “I wish you’d stop assuming that you know what I want all the time.”
“Hey you two, last call for the coach,” your tour guide suddenly interrupted, looking very obviously annoyed that the two of you were holding the bus up.
“Sorry. We’ll head back now,” you apologized to the guide. “We’ll continue this conversation later?” you directed towards Patrick.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
VENICE, ITALY
Putting a hold on your conversation probably wasn’t the wisest idea you’d ever had, considering that your next few days in Italy were set to be your busiest this far.
Between gondola rides on different boats and exploring historic palaces, the two of you didn’t have much time to stop and have as serious of a talk as you wanted to have. Even if you did somehow manage to pick up where you’d left off, there were so many people around you that it didn’t even feel worth it.
Luckily for you, your hotel had a private beach attached to it, and as you spent your evening by the beach, watching the sun go down, you were pleased to find that you were joined by familiar company.
At first, Patrick didn’t say anything as he sat down on the same chair next to you. The two of you enjoyed the serene sunset and privacy that the beach afforded you in silence, though you were sure that things wouldn’t stay that way for long.
“I love you, you know?” he finally piped up, breaking the silence with a very bold declaration.
You looked at him calmly, though you weren’t feeling very calm on the inside. You’d been waiting to hear those words from him from the moment that the two of you broke up. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to react to it now, though the confession was better late than never.
“I love you too. I never stopped,” you told him simply, as if the realization that you were stuck on him hadn’t been haunting you for months now.
“I never did, either. It was cruel of me to ever tell you that I did.”
You nodded in agreement, wondering if Patrick would ever understand the full extent of the damage his words had done to you. “It was, but I understand where you were coming from. If I had known that you didn’t think I was going to stick around, I would’ve gone about what I did differently,” you began to explain. “I think it came across as me not wanting to marry you at all. Of course I wanted to marry you. There was just so much else going on in my life then that the timing didn’t feel right.”
“But the timing might be right someday?” Patrick asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice.
“The timing will be right someday. Maybe sooner than either of us know,” you shot him a wink, then broke into a grin as he pulled you into a firm, loving embrace.
ATHENS, GREECE
The rest of your time in Italy mainly consisted of making up for lost time, with the two of you partaking in far more PDA than what was ever necessary and thoroughly documenting your time abroad together as a couple.
Thanks to your injury, you were slightly slower than the rest of your group. But that certainly didn’t stop Patrick from lagging along with you, letting you lean on him for support when you needed it and pausing to sit and take breaks with you whenever you noticed that walking was taking too much of a toll on you.
It was nice to be back with him, to not have to feel stupid for feeling what you felt or feel the pressure of knowing that you should probably be trying to move on. The only unfortunate part was how little time the two of you had left on vacation, with you heading home after spending a few days in Athens. If only the two of you had been upfront about your feelings earlier, then you could’ve been having as great of a time as you were having now during your entire trip.
The two of you briefly floated the idea of having somewhat of a shotgun wedding, but scrapped it after realizing that you would prefer to have your family and friends there to celebrate with you. After all, many of them had been on the emotional rollercoaster that was your relationship right along with you.
For the time being, the two of you were perfectly content with being together, and knowing that neither of you had any intentions of leaving.
Somehow, that made your last few days of vacation feel infinitely better.
ATHENS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
You scrolled endlessly on your phone, sending out a few messages to friends and family to let them know that you were heading back home. While you typically felt a few nerves before boarding a plane anywhere, you couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of excitement, both at the thought of being able to go back home and sleep in your own bed, and at the potential your newly reformed relationship had.
Your scrolling was interrupted by Patrick’s presence, carrying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in his hands with a slightly goofy look on his face.
“Sorry for taking so long. I think everyone and their mother wanted coffee today,” he explained as he sat down, passing you your items as he got comfortable next to you.
“No worries. I’m just glad you were running late to grab us breakfast, instead of trying to switch our seats like last time.”
The two of you shared a laugh before Patrick said, “That feels like a lifetime ago.”
“It basically was,” you dismissed.
Once it was announced that your group was boarding, the two of you stood up quickly, attempting to gather your bearings before getting on the plane.
“‘Till next time, Europe,” you bid the country goodbye as the two of you made your way to the line.
“Should we come back to Europe? I was thinking our next honeymoon should be somewhere else. Maybe Bali.”
“Oooh, Bali sounds nice. I think anywhere warm and with a beach is good,” you explained, though you really didn’t care where you went, as long as Patrick was there by your side.
#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig fic#art donaldson x reader#challengers#challengers fanfic#josh o'connor x reader
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The perfect end is near?
MHA 424 spoilers
Those new leaks were literally fucking perfect,like??? Not just for shipping (I'll get to that) but just for a conclusion of the series.
Simple ending?
(First of all,I personally wanted Hori to kinda send the kids back to school,y'know,to see how they'd be after the fact how this war really changed their mindsets,but to also give them so time to just be a class. Those kids deserve to be kids just for a little bit).
To me this just proves even more so how Hori loves and enjoys his characters,he loves the world he's built for them,I think he wants to explore this further,and all the power to him! I know we want stories that are mind blowing every step of the way,but that's just not realistic and that's not really fun.
Hori,in my opinion,has made a heartbreaking and inspiring story,but I appreciate that he can dile it back a notch. I appreciate stories that can just roll with the simplicity. I feel people have this negative connotation of simplicity,that simple is automatically bad,which isn't true in the slightest.
I am a big fan of deep and meaningful stories,but I think one of the deepest turns you can take is to simplicity. These kids have been fighting non-stop and have been experiencing tragedy after tragedy,I want to see them recover. I want to see them comfort one another.
Let's not forget Hori has given us plot twits,death,war,grief...so if MHA goes back to how it was in the beginning,by being a little more simple,then I'm in full support for that.
(Just making this argument before the dudebros start talking shit! As for Shigaraki and AFO's ending,and the war,I've already done a pretty long analysis for those two,so I kinda see no point in repeating something since my feelings on it haven't changed)
The gay ending???
ALRIGHT. Let's get to the shipping portion of this post.
(Izuku trying to reassure him is so fucking sweet,oh my fucking God, he's like, "Oh,Kacchan don't cry everything's okay :D" whilst trying not to cry himself,and Izuku being shocked to see him cry? Like,bitch,this man has cried to you like two times before this,but at the same time he's never openly sobbed I guess)
Guys,we're going to get the quirkless hand hold. GUYS,WE'RE GOING TO GET THE QUIRKLESS HAND HOLD.
And Katsuki being vulnerable with Izuku once again? Honestly this whole chapter hasn't been some dkbk/bkdk crumbs,it's been a full-course dinner.
Now let's get to the most important part...
THIS. This is so telling of the future in a sense.
Katsuki and Izuku being brought together by All Might's words once again,which Hori fucking HINTED at,
Something tells me he was super excited to do this whole scene. With All Might,once again,bringing these two together,it makes me think of Togachako,especially with Ochako at the end here.
If Ochako is the one holding her stomach at the end,then we can assume that's where Toga stabbed her and she's thinking of her,while dkbk/bkdk are having their moment. This is extremely important.
I've said Izuku is kinda like Togachako's All Might,and I stand by that. Throughout this series,Ochako has been growing to become a hero,her own hero. And,Izuku has been one of her biggest inspirations,so much so,she feel in love with him. But,as things change,and Izuku has grown away from her,she's grown away from him.
What I'm saying is: Ochako has fallen out of love with Izuku. I've said this a million times,but I cannot stress it enough. Izuku has brought Ochako and Toga together though,that's for sure.
I mean,if we really take a look at their recent romantic moments,who has Ochako been thinking of?
and the rooftop scene?
people please stop trying to make this about Izuku. This is about Ochako finally realizing what kind of hero she wants to be,and that's why she falls out of love with Izuku.
Ochako wanted to save the heroes (Izuku) but in the process she found out she wants to save the villains (Toga). This is her story of becoming a hero,and falling out of love with Izuku. Izuku brought them together,their shared feelings for him made them realize their feelings for each other. Sound familiar?
Izuku's and Katsuki's shared feelings for All Might caused their feelings for each other to bloom,then their conflicting ideals made it to where they couldn't be together. Sound familiar?
(And let's not forget they had two fights,each one of them.)
And,Katsuki said something this chapter that made me think: "Oh,Togachako vibes!"
Remember when Ochako says she wants to give Toga her blood for the rest of her life?
Or the lyrics in the mha season 2 ending theme about Izuku's feelings for Kacchan?
Dudes,these mfs just wanna be together.
Those are just some of my thoughts one the ending,dkbk/bkdk,Togachako,and all that. I'm super fucking excited for the rest of this series though!
(Let's cross our fingers for a Deku Vs Kacchan part 3 but it ends with them making out???)
#Mha#Bnha#Bnha 424 spoilers#Mha 424 spoilers#Bkdk#Dkbk#GreeNade#tgchk#chktg#bloodbubbles#dekucchan#katsudeku#togachako#ochatoga#deku x kacchan#toga x ochako
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Which joestar do you think would be the worst yandere? And why
Pick your poison! I like to think the Joestar’s all have their little traits that shine the most based on their personality (so whose the worst can depend on what you’re uncomfortable with). Going to do just the og verse jojo’s for this 1-6.
Jonathan : Very sweet almost intoxicatingly so, but he tends to end up a bit overprotective/just a bit babying. Insisting he does things for you, if you have some issue somewhere else? Why not let him resolve it. Don’t fret over too much he has the means to take care of you. There might be a time or two your room might be locked if you’re a little more stubborn than usual
Joseph: What is this thing called “personal space” ? It almost sounds like a foreign language to this man. He totally didn’t mess certain things up so you happen to meet up with him. Not sure why your date stood you up? He couldn’t possibly give an answer other than they’re not worth your time since they didn’t bother showing up. He should take you to this great place he loves going to after a long day.
Jotaro: Stalking type usually, and mows past anything that he might feel gets in the way of you and himself. He’s used to punks, so he’s not afraid to pummel someone if they don’t get the message to scram. When it comes to classes, he’s glancing at you every so often, maybe there’s a “doodle” or two in his notebook. Need to walk somewhere? He’ll walk with you. If you’re hiding out to be alone, he ends up finding you. You’re probably the reason he learns any building’s layout in the first place. Clubs or class cleaning doesn’t stop Jotaro either, he’ll wait as long as it takes. Being sick at home doesn’t stop him either, usually there’s some kind of hot soup/dish that’s good to eat while sick sitting in your room somehow. (Not to mention potential kidnapping later down the line if you’re not really cooperating)
Later Parts like 4 and 6, he’s pretty similar in dropping you off things even if you never once told him your address. (He has a decent memory of these things). Similarly Jotaro has any phone numbers you have in his contacts, and he’ll have a talk personally with anyone that he isn’t fond of approaching you. He tends to have you in the back of his mind while out on his studies, or writing a paper, and yet again drawings somewhere he’s compelled to place them. Every so often he checks in on you (whether you want this or not doesn’t matter). Broken down car? It’s either replaced swiftly or he’s driving you places himself. Maybe he somehow (forces) nudges you to live with him.
Josuke : He’s head over heels for you, and similar to Joseph he’s going to take any opportunity to squeeze himself into your life. He just so happens to have some leftover lunch from that place you like? You looked sad when they had sold out of your favorite meal there, so why doesn’t he help with that? Speaking of, maybe your eyes are drifting somewhere else. He steals any potential love letters to a crush and rewrites them, making it look like you’re confessing to him. He may also leave one of your favorite treats you like in its place. It’s an enigma to you how he found that out.
Giorno : He’s the don of the Italian mafia, he’s almost constantly worried about you. So if he has eyes on you, it’s almost immediate you lose autonomy whether born in Italy or a tourist. He’s clever in his ways to trap you, whether you’re resistant or not doesn’t matter. (he does think you’re cute with a strong head on your shoulders). There’s some of that charisma he possess all the same just like his father. Even if it doesn’t work on you, it makes others around you to trap you easily. Giorno likes to think he gives you a lot of leeway with voluntarily coming to him. He’ll meet you casually in coffee shops or wherever you’re willing to shop at. The bill is covered without you having to say a word. Any cash you used is miraculously brought back to you somehow. The blond isn’t afraid to get his hands a little dirty however when it comes to you. If he has to take something for you to step into his arms (whether it’s your ability to walk around outside or someone close to you) he’ll do whatever it takes.
Jolyne : Sure she stalks somewhat, but like her father she can be bold in taking care of the competition. She’s not afraid to hold your hand or finding a way for you two to do so. Eavesdropping is something she does occasionally, and anyone that wants to stomp on your heart is going to get stomped themselves. She does delay you with stone free (or outright captures you) if Jolyne doesn’t want you to leave. It’s impossible to shake her off, no matter what you try to do. Of course she made a copy of your apartment key, what if there’s an emergency? Maybe she wanted to make you breakfast. Huh? What do you mean she can’t just walk in unannounced? Don’t be ridiculous.
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere jjba#yandere jjba imagines#yandere jjba x reader#jjba imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere jotaro kujo#yandere jonathan joestar#yandere joseph joestar#yandere josuke higashikata#yandere giorno giovanna
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Helloo I was wondering if I could make a request
Since it's prom season here where I'm at I was wondering if you could do a highschool au prom with Jason Grace (or any other of the PJO boys) where reader(male or gn) Is waiting for someone to ask them out because they don't think anyone will accept their invitation to prom if they ask so they wait patiently for someone to ask them to prom. Days go by still no one has asked the reader out to prom and reader is like sulking in their home sad cause no one asked them out until reader heard a noise coming from outside they check it out and they see Jason outside waiting to ask reader out
Angst to fluff type stuff It would be so nice if you were to fill this request but it's you're choice if you do tyy
wait forever —☆
| highschool au | — jason grace x gn!reader
warnings; language, a bit of angst but turns into fluff.
tags; the reader has a crush on jason, jason being oblivious about the reader feelings.
a/n; hello! I hope you are very well. This is the first Jason fic omg . I will do it in gn because I usually use the feminine or neutral, I hope you enjoy it and I send you a big greeting from mhmm mars!
Jason was the king of the class. Everyone wanted to talk to him, ask him out, kiss him, or even kill him though those were the jealous few.
Guys like him got tons of invitations to be prom dates, just for the chance to be by his side for one night. But every time, he politely declined – which somehow made it even more painful– I mean, he was handsome, kind, and smart. Whoever ended up with him would be lucky.
And there you were, leaning on your elbows, watching as he gently turned down another girl. This was becoming routine since the prom date had been announced and plastered all over the school. You noticed the girl apologized, and he tried to avoid a hostile rejection. You could almost read his lips saying, “On the contrary, it’s an honor, I’m sorry, blah, blah, blah.” Same words, just another person hearing them from Jason. You laughed to yourself, unsure if it was in humor or despair.
Then you cleared your throat as you saw Jason return to his seat, conveniently in front of you. You guessed that you and Jason weren’t that close because talking excessively during school but rarely outside of it didn’t make you friends.
— If you keep this up, you'll never get a date, Jason — yelled his dark-haired friend, tossing a paper ball at him. Jason examined it with a raised eyebrow.
— Shut up, will you? And really, Leo? Heather B.?— His friend grinned and raised his hands. If you remembered correctly, Heather often teased Leo, and they apparently couldn’t stand each other. But it seemed that was just her way of getting his attention, and it worked. Great, Leo Valdez had a date, and you didn’t.
When Jason finally sat down, he turned to you with a smile that gave you butterflies.
— Do you have a date?
Oh god.
— No — you said, whining with pleading eyes. It would’ve been just as obvious if you got on your knees and started praying out loud that you were the one he wanted to go with. Instead, your classmate pressed his lips together and rested his head on his crossed arms.
— You’ll find someone.
Uh, that was the problem. You looked around, and no one seemed particularly interested in asking you. Your friends had found their dates before you could even suggest going as a group. But honestly, even if that had happened, it wouldn’t have been what you wanted. You wanted to go with someone special, but you were too shy to ask anyone, so you just waited.
—I suppose,— you responded, trying not to sound disappointed, though you knew you couldn’t expect anything from him because he probably had much better and more attractive options than you… oh. Despite your mind’s attempts to calm you down, you found yourself wondering… What if you asked Jason? Would he say no? Of all the people, you’d be the first somewhat close person to ask him.
— Jason — you called out suddenly, a burst of courage surprising you. His bright blue eyes glanced over his shoulder, leaving you speechless. How many had the privilege of his attention? You didn’t know, but you wanted to be the only one. You stumbled over your words, cheeks flushing, but he turned slightly, attentive, until the words left your mouth. Not a hint of mockery on his face. — Never mind.
You mentally slapped yourself, and Jason smiled kindly.
— If you remember what you wanted to say, tell me.
Yeah, asking wasn’t your thing. It was better to wait for someone to ask you. Maybe that Nakamura guy from the other class with whom you had a great conversation about the weather would come to mind. You thought, with a bit of luck, he wouldn’t have a date, and he’d think of you.
So, that’s what you did. But the torment was watching others ask each other in creative ways, flirting to see if there was mutual interest. You witnessed the air fill with the joy and misery of securing a date. Obviously, the proposals for Jason didn’t stop; they increased, making it more painful because he was the guy you wanted to hold your hand at the stupid dance.
As the days passed, your mood worsened, and that Wednesday, you opened your locker with hope and found absolutely nothing. Frustrated, you stuffed your books inside and slammed the door shut with a curse. You might have looked intimidating if Jason hadn’t appeared behind it, making you scream and him laugh. You didn’t understand how some people thought he was stuck-up and serious when the guy was the complete package (you cried internally again).
— What are you doing later? — he asked, twirling the rose in his hand with a raised eyebrow.
— Why? Are you going to tell me all the ways people have asked you to the dance, starting with that rose that some girl must have given you — Jason laughed again and pointed the rose at you so close you could smell its sweet fragrance.
— Boy — he corrected, and you rolled your eyes, but curiosity and anxiety overwhelmed you.
— And you said…?
— No.
You nodded and headed to the cafeteria with him following behind, which you found odd since he was about two heads taller than you.
— Don’t get me wrong. It’s for the same reason I turned down everyone else.
You smiled to show you were listening and stopped abruptly when the dance committee blocked the way with their huge decorations. Totally distracted, Jason bumped into you. If it had been the other way around, it wouldn’t have happened, but he was much heavier, so you ended up wobbling, at risk of falling flat on your face if his large hands hadn’t caught you at the exact moment.
— Sorry, I didn’t see — he swore, holding you tightly by the waist with his chin brushing your ear. His breath against your skin gave you a shiver; you had never been so close to him.
You slowly turned your body while still on tiptoes, and to your surprise, he never let go. Probably, your eyes had stars, and you wore the stupidest smile ever, but Jason didn’t notice because he was focused on not letting you fall on the freshly waxed floor in front of everyone. Because contrary to what you thought, to Jason, you were a dear friend. Now that his eyes met yours, the frustration of not knowing why he felt so different with you compared to his friendships with Leo, Piper, or Annabeth became even more apparent. He could never achieve the same level of closeness with them that he had with you.
— Th-thanks — Nervously, you began to remove his hands from your body, and Jason let go with an apology, noting that maybe you didn’t like physical contact too much while ignoring the fact that some people were watching and whispering, and you were almost melting in his arms.
You gave him an embarrassed smile and watched as the last decorations paraded down the hall. Only two days left, and you still didn’t have a date. Apparently, Jason didn’t see your frown or the pout starting to form on your lips because he carelessly began to pat you on the shoulder with a friendly laugh. But that wasn’t as bad as what he said next.
— Well, if I pushed you against the balloons and streamers again, at least you’d be part of the decorations and prettier than being a wallflower.
And honestly, what the fuck?
You didn’t know if it was the stress of not having a date, the desperation for Jason to notice you, or everything combined with the bad weather outside, but you didn’t have the guts to handle the joke. Because yeah, that’s what it was, and there was no malice in his tone. But you couldn’t do anything more than hum while grimacing. The hallway seemed to transform into the coldest place in the universe and Jason looked at you with slightly wider eyes than usual, noticing your mood change immediately.
— Sorry–
— It’s fine, Jason. I wish I were you to get thousands of proposals. See you later. — You rushed ahead, leaving Jason with his mouth open and a guilty feeling in his chest. He had never seen that side of you.
—Come on, dude! — Leo yelled, slapping the blonde’s back, who was miserably hugging his left sneaker while sitting on the locker room bench. He had worn that long face and slumped shoulders for the next hour. How could he have dared to make you angry before building a better friendship with you?
— I swear, Leo. Their eyes were full of…
— Not that, Jason — interrupted the dark-haired boy with a grimace. Jason raised an eyebrow, expecting something better than a nonsensical scolding, or so he thought. — Seriously, you haven’t realized they’re in love with you?
Jason nearly fell off the bench and bit his tongue. Leo rolled his eyes, exasperated by his friend’s dramatics. If being blind was a definition, Jason embodied it in many ways. Leo took off his glasses.
— Hey!
He cleaned them with the edge of his sports shirt and put them back on Jason.
— Can you see now? Or do I have to tell you that you’re terribly attracted to them, which is why you keep rejecting everyone?
Jason opened his mouth, his cheeks starting to burn, his stomach twisting, and his heart feeling close to a panic attack. Leo nodded wisely.
— My friend, you have the emotional maturity of a toddler.
Jason felt like a creep lurking around your house from the bushes after not seeing you anywhere for the rest of the day. Your sudden announcement of being sick didn’t sit well with him, so he ended up finding out where you lived.
In reality, you were grumbling and pacing around your living room while watching another episode of your favorite show. You reached the part where the main couple finally realized they were in love, and the episodes were filled with romance, so In bad humor, you threw a chip at the TV. The protagonist reminded you of Jason… Jason. UGH.
You smashed a pillow against your face and groaned in embarrassment. You had acted so weird with him that you thought you’d never be able to face him again, and that moment came too soon when his face appeared squished against your living room window, accompanied by a familiar metallic clang. Jason had tripped over the trash, leaving his face imprint on your window.
You wished you could’ve said something better than:
“AHH!”
And Jason wished he could’ve responded with something better than:
“AAAHHH!”
But honestly, neither of you was good at expressing your feelings in front of each other.
You quickly got up to open the door and found the blonde with his hands in his jacket, his breath visible in the cold. It took you several seconds to formulate the first of many questions racing through your mind.
— What are you doing here? — was the first of them, but you hadn’t expected the tone to be so guarded. You still seemed to hold a grudge from the morning, but in reality, you felt worse with yourself.
— I came… I…. — Jason took a breath and walked towards you, illuminated by the porch light with each step until his hair looked like golden thread. — Sorry for what I said. It was really stupid.
— It’s okay, Jason. I wasn’t in a good mood…
— No, please. I should’ve been more considerate…— You frowned, and he took another step, pulling his hands out of his jacket to try and reach yours. The gesture seemed unexpected, but you didn’t do anything to avoid physical contact because, honestly, you’d never do anything to avoid being close to him.
— Jason…
— Please, let me speak. — He held your hands, and for the first time, he was aware of how it felt physically to be with you. He almost felt his body vibrate, his heart leap with excitement, but he still had the hardest part to say. — I don’t have many explanations right now, but I’d like to be your prom date.
The words didn’t have the expected effect because you stepped back.
— If this is just out of pity…
Jason shook his head and reached for you again, this time hugging you. Maybe if he didn’t look directly at you, it would be easier. He hadn’t realized you could make him so nervous.
— Never. You’re the one I’ve been hoping to go with… just forgive me, I have the emotional maturity of a five-year-old, and... I thought you hated me.
You smiled, and Jason took that as a good sign. He pulled back a bit to look at you face-to-face and, with a nervous smile, whispered, “Please.” You had Jason Grace begging you to be his prom date.
— I don’t hate you — you whispered and blushed. — I, uh, like you.
— Thank all the gods that exist! Because I hope you forgive me for what I’m about to say…
Jason smiled widely, cheeks pink, nervously pinching the fabric of your clothes. You raised an eyebrow. Did that mean he liked you too?
— Actually, I kinda forgot to give you a message from one person and maybe it was to ask you out...
You opened your mouth in disbelief.
— Nakamura — you guessed, and Jason nodded, embarrassed, but then he started waving his hands and stuttering.
— But, Please, be my date. I like you too, okay? Who’s Nakamura, anyways? — He almost said it so fast it made you dizzy, but you laughed, the sweetest sound he could’ve heard.
— I thought it would take forever.
#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#pjo hoo toa#heroes of olympus#pjo#pjo x you#hoo x reader#heroes of olympus x reader#jason grace headcanon#jason grace fanfic#jason grace#jason grace headcanons#jason grace x y/n#jason grace x you#jason grace x reader#jason grace x gn!reader#the seven heroes of olympus#the seven pjo x you#the seven pjo#percy jackson#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus#heroes of the olympus#riordanverse#riordan universe
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Hello! Could I request something with Marc Guiu where he is smitten by reader who is two years older than him. She also live abroad. And she doesn't stop saying no to Marc to get into a relationship but Marc is adamant and wants to prove her that they can work a relationship together.
Like reader is studying in uni, having her own problems and doesn't want to add a long-distance relationship on top of those things.
Thank you! And I want to say that I really appreciate reading whatever you write.
Giving you a lot of hugs and hoping that you get your inspiration back 🥰
ready when you are / Marc Guiu
Summary: Marc x female!reader - Marc can't get you off his mind. You wish you could get him out of your face.
Warnings: suggestion of depriving oneself of proper self care
Requested?: Yes!
Author's Note: You're literally a lifesaver; thanks so much! Also, I made this a little bit more romantic and emotional than your request suggested, but do you really expect any different from tumblr user sports-on-sundays?!
Sometimes you think that giving Marc Guiu your number was the biggest mistake of your life.
You know it sounds mean, and it's not that you don't like Marc. He's funny; you enjoy chatting with him.
The only thing you did not realise, though, when you gave him your number, was that the boy is smitten by you.
He's stuck on you.
You just thought it'd be kind of cool. You know, you have the opportunity to stay in touch with Marc Guiu. Not world class or anything, but you're a Barcelona girl. It was just a cool idea.
Now, just as you're slipping under your quilt to shut your eyes for some sleep, nearly halfway across from Marc Guiu, in the United States of America (it was a treat to spend a lot of time here), you suddenly, to your dismay, hear your phone vibrating on the end table.
You roll over to snatch it up in annoyance, and sigh even louder when you see it's Marc trying to face time you.
You blow air out through your lips before sitting up and answering, immediately saying, "Is it not, like, 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning there?"
"It's 6:00 A.M.!" the guy beams, his brown eyes sparkling. "You said you didn't want me calling at 9:00 A.M. anymore, since that's like 3:00 A.M. for you, and I'm waking you up in the middle of the night. So I woke up early so I could call you now!"
"Marc," you groan. "It's 12:00 A.M. here! I was just about to go to sleep! Let me make this clear- calling me in the morning for you is off-limits."
His smile very swiftly turns upside, and he almost looks hurt, which immediately fills you with a considerable amount of guilt. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I just wanted to talk to you."
You sigh. Yeah, because you're mad in love with me, you can't help thinking to yourself. You decide not to say it, and inside respond, "I know. It's fine. Don't worry about it."
"Why were you going to bed at 12:00 A.M. anyway? You should be getting more sleep than that... did you not say once you have to wake up at 5:00 A.M....?"
"Oh, Marc," you click your tongue. "With all I've got going on, the last thing I'm worried about is getting enough sleep. I'm holding up two jobs, and having to study, and everyday I give myself at least some time for exploring and travel."
"How do you do all it?" he suddenly asks.
You shrug. "I like living like this. But health isn't my concern like it is yours. We have different priorities. And yours shouldn't be ridding yourself of sleep by waking up early to talk to me, hm?"
"Yeah, yeah. Sure..."
"Now, was there something you want to tell me?"
Through the screen, across the world, you can still see the tenderness in his eyes for you. His soft spot for you that's getting just a tad bit dangerous. "No, not really... Just wanted to... hear your voice, I guess."
"Oh... Oh."
"Yeah," he clears his throat. "I guess I just miss you..."
Despite everything, and the fact that you were determined to keep this to yourself, seeing Marc so open now about this still pushes the words out of your mouth as you say, "Well, Marc... My contract ends soon, which means I'll probably be coming home back to Barcelona for my next semester... After that, though, I've got plans for France... But at least that's closer, right? And you've got me for one semester."
You don't like how 'you've got me' sounds. And you know you shouldn't have said it.
Can't give this boy any more false hope than what he already has.
"Oh!" his eyes brighten, and his mouth tilts up once again. "Seriously! I'm so excited to see you again, then!"
You chuckle. "Y- Yeah, me too. Now, can I go to bed and get a few hours of sleep in?"
"Haha! Whoa, Marc, hold your horses, mate!" you laugh as he practically jumps into your arms for a hug, causing you to drop all your bags on the airport floor. "Just because I'm older than you doesn't mean you're not bigger and stronger!"
He grins, pulling away, and immediately scoops up all your bags for you. "I've already got a cab. Come on. I'll bring you to your flat and help you unpack!"
There's not much you can do to deter the Spanish boy, and once you're in your flat, all unpacked, you two plop on the couch. You sigh in relief as you say, "Feels good to be home!"
"Feels good to have you home, Y/n," Marc pipes in.
Even though you really don't want him to think you're interested, some of the little things he says never fail to make you smile, and feel warm inside.
Whether you want it or not, being loved feels good.
But then he slips his hand in yours. "So, the United States. That was the longest you've been away. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"
"Probably not as much," you tease truthfully, "and we did face time pretty much every single moment you could. But, yeah, I missed seeing you in 3D."
He grins, and reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your hair, asking softer, "So... are you ready to date me yet?"
You lick your lips. You knew this would come, sooner rather than later. You sigh. "Marc, you know my answer." You begin to slip your hand away.
He grabs it back, and brings it to his chest. Now he's looking at you earnestly. "Please, Y/n..." His happy demeanor has quite suddenly turned almost desperate. "I know we can make this work..."
"Marc, I'm not going to be in a long-distance relationship like that."
He frowns, squeezing your hand tighter, looking you right in your eyes. "We already have a long-distance friendship. Why not a little more than that?"
"That requires more emotional involvement. My heart just can't take that. I can't be getting into relationships like that at this point in my life. Maybe someday, I can settle down and find someone. But you know I'm born to run, Marc..."
He looks down. Wraps your hand in both of his and rests it in his lap. "But we'll both be better off. I can make this work. Just give me a chance. Let me prove it."
"You're eighteen. You should be focused on your own things, like football, and your career, just like I'm focused on my own things, like travelling and studying for college. You shouldn't let yourself care so much about me, Marc," you speak gently, almost soothingly. "Please, please don't find your happiness in me. I'll fail you. You mustn't find perfection in imperfect people."
"But you're perfectly imperfect, just like me. Broken, like me, and I love you for these things..." he looks up again.
"Oh, Marc," you barely whisper, staring into those eyes. "Please don't ever say you love me. It's not good for either of us."
"But I do-"
"Marc," you say, sterner. "With everything else I have on my plate, and with everything else I'm chasing after, I can't give myself to you like that. Not right now. We're both so young, you even younger than me. I'd rather see you as a younger brother than anything else-"
"But Y/n-"
"Let's just be friends, okay?"
He sighs deeply. He doesn't nod, because he doesn't want it. But instead he leans in, resting his head against your shoulder, and wraps his arms around your body.
You sigh as his warmth is spread to you.
"Well, I'll enjoy you while you're here, and call often you when you're off to France. And you could run away and go wherever in the world you want, but please. Please always come back to Barcelona. Please always come back to me. Because I'll always be waiting here for you. And I'll be ready whenever you are. Ready for you whenever you're ready for me."
#sports-on-sundays#fcb#fc barcelona#barcelona fc#barcelona#fc barca#fc barça#barca#barça#barcelona imagine#barcelona spain#spain#france#united states of america#barcelona imagines#barcelona one shot#barcelona one shots#barcelona oneshot#barcelona oneshots#barcelona blurb#barcelona blurbs#barcelona fic#barcelona fics#barcelona fan fic#barcelona fan fics#barcelona fanfic#barcelona fanfics#barcelona fan fiction#barcelona fanfiction#marc guiu
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COMPLICIT SILENCE
‧₊˚ ┊synopsis ... it was yoongi's birthday and, since you missed being with him and wanted to celebrate his day, you decided to surprise yoongi at his studio.
‧₊˚ ┊fandom ... bts.
ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ ft. ... yoongi x gn!reader.
‧₊˚ ┊genre ... one-shot.
ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ content ... fluff, shy yoongi, best friends to ???.
ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ word count ... 1.4k.
‧₊˚ ┊cole's note ... let us imagine it's march again, shall we? :3 i hope u like it ♡ eng is not my 1st language xx
Standing at the door of Yoongi's studio, you considered your next action. Should you knock? Or was it better to just go in and surprise him? I mean, you hadn't seen him in a week due to your classes, so any of your actions would surprise Yoongi. But you wanted it to be perfect – it had to be perfect for your best friend.
As such, after taking a deep breath once, twice, three times, you decided to put on the studio code and take off your shoes before slowly entering that room.
Yoongi had his back to the door. With his attention focused on the screens in front of him, Yoongi didn't notice the strip of light you let in when you opened the door. With headphones on, hand on the mouse and eyes glued to his creation, Yoongi was completely lost in his world, not even imagining your presence in his studio.
You smiled when you realized that your arrival had not been announced and, with slow and calculated steps, you approached Yoongi.
The silence in the studio was your accomplice, muffling your steps, hiding your presence while you thought about the best way to show yourself to your best friend. But you just smiled and decided to opt for the most basic choise and, leaning your face close to Yoongi's face, you gave him a small kiss on the cheek that made him jump a little from his chair.
“You scared me!” Yoongi, after turning his chair to see you, took his hands to his headphones and quickly took them off. “What are you doing here?”
You couldn't contain the small laugh that escaped your lips when you saw Yoongi moving away from you after the kiss, his scared look bringing you a little fun.
“I just wanted to see you.”
“You could have told me you were coming,” Yoongi placed his headphones on his desk and looked at you a little irritated, nervous because you saw him behaving so cowardly.
“And ruin the surprise?” you smiled as you extended your right hand and showed him a bag of McDonald’s. “Happy birthday, Yoonie.”
There was a moment of pause in which Yoongi tried to assimilate what was happening and, as soon as he realized that your visit was a consequence of his birthday, Yoongi just smiled – suddenly, he started to love that special day.
For minutes on end, your company was the only light that shone in Yoongi's studio.
Sitting on your black sofa, you and Yoongi enjoyed a late dinner, talking warmly about the last few days, repeating the words that were exchanged through messages. But none of you cared about this repetition. Finally you were together. At the end of a long week of work and school, you were once again in the company of the most important person in your life – and that was all that mattered.
Time floated around the studio, lingering on your words, enjoying the conversation that you and Yoongi didn't want to end. In a short time the food had been eaten, the news had been reported and there was nothing left to do but enjoy the small silence that appeared between you.
Yoongi looked at you.
Sitting on the couch, his arm resting on the back of it, Yoongi looked at you with a small smile. There was a certain sparkle in his shy gaze, a bit of admiration flecking the sweet brown of Yoongi's eyes. His smile was genuine, almost automatic when he looked at you, and Yoongi didn't even realize he was smiling – for him, the expression of happiness was instantaneous when it came to you.
“It’s late,” you stretched your back and looked around for the coat you had put down, you didn’t remember where. “I better get going.”
“If you give me five minutes I can take you home.”
“Thank you, Yoonie,” you smiled as you looked back at him, one of your hands gently resting on your best friend’s leg. “But I don’t want to bother you.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Yoongi got up and sat back down in his chair, staring at the screens once again. “I just need to finish something. It doesn’t take long at all.”
You sighed between a smile and decided to sit in the chair next to Yoongi, curious about what he was doing. However, your eyes didn't rest on the screens.
There was a certain magnetism about Yoongi. You couldn't explain it, but there was something about him that attracted you. Maybe it was Yoongi's intriguing soul, painted by the stars with dust of dazzle and fascination. Maybe it was Yoongi's magical essence, sprinkled with the hope and adoration left by the constellations. Or maybe it was because he was your best friend. You didn’t know. You only knew that it was stronger than you and, as such, you were admiring Yoongi.
And Yoongi was beautiful.
Engulfed in his art, focused on what he loved most, Yoongi was simply beautiful with his face slightly illuminated by the bright light of the screens. His lips were slightly open, eyes focused on lines and numbers on the screen, his hand on the mouse moving frantically as he tried to figure out what was left to do.
And you couldn't look away from him. You couldn't stop looking at his face. It was as if he had cast a spell that trapped you within his charms. Yoongi was mesmerizing.
“Yoongi…”
“Hm?”
Yoongi didn't look at you, his response even seemed to have been released without any idea of words. And you smiled. He really loved his work.
“Yoongi.”
“Yea?”
“Can I kiss you?”
The movements of Yoongi's hand stopped abruptly as soon as your question settled in Yoongi's lap and your words reached his ears.
He didn't react.
Had he heard right? Was he too tired to already imagine words? Yes. That was the only explanation. Yoongi's tiredness was deluding him with hopes and dreams that he didn't want to confess. Yes. Yoongi was sure of that.
“Sorry. I don't know what came over me…”
You gave a small, wilted laugh when the abstention from a response tightened your chest. How foolish. What a ridiculous idea. Yoongi was your best friend. Only that. Don't try to ruin what is already beautiful. Stop dreaming about fantasy stories.
“Yes.”
Yoongi's confirmation echoed through the studio, hovering in the dim light of the room, spreading out in that cubicle and making itself big enough to be noticed by you.
Yes.
Yes.
Yoongi turned his chair and stared at you, hand still stuck on the mouse, not knowing what to do with it. Slightly illuminated by the screen, Yoongi's face was dyed with the faintest shade of pink, his eyes shining with more emotion.
You stared at Yoongi, lips slightly open as if trying to swallow that confirmation to make sure it was reality. This was really going to happen. Finally.
You got a little closer to Yoongi, a little nervous about what you wanted to do. Yoongi came closer too, eyes jumping from your gaze to your lips, the anxiety of feeling you moving every muscle of his.
There was a moment of hesitation on both sides. But you took a deep breath and, as if driven by days and weeks of desire, you touched Yoongi's lips.
There was no thought in Yoongi's mind other than kissing you back, his soft lips worshiping your lips, passion and nervousness settling between your mouths.
It was brief. Something small. Shy but still intense. But you didn't know if you should continue, if you could continue. So, you moved away from Yoongi, foreheads coming together in a pause of controlled euphoria. Smiles painted your faces, Yoongi's face becoming even pinker with the action you just did – but oh!, how accomplished he felt.
“Y/N…”
“Hm?”
“Can I kiss you again?”
Yoongi's smile ran over his words, making them sound more cheerful than intended. But he didn't care. At that moment, he didn't care if he showed his true colors. He only wanted you.
“Yes.”
Your smile was stopped by Yoongi's lips, who, now more thirsty for you and confident in himself, kissed you once again; Yoongi's hand resting on the mouse quickly moved to your face, holding you gently.
And Yoongi's studio was silent, retaining within itself all the truth of your hearts; preventing the outside world from interrupting the testimony of your love, Yoongi's studio seemed small at that moment, forcing you to join Yoongi in order to feel alive.
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That Girl’s A Liar~
Satoru Gojo x F!Reader
Here is part III! I hope you all enjoy<333 Part I Part II
The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. I headed towards the library, where Kai and I had planned to meet up and go over his strategy to ask Amai out. My mind was still buzzing with thoughts of Toru and the missed chance to talk to him earlier. It had been such a strange, disheartening day. For the first time since we became friends, Toru and I hadn’t exchanged a single word.
We never even crossed paths, our schedules seemingly conspiring to keep us apart. That or we were just too busy with school work to talk. It felt as if a crucial part of my day was missing, leaving an empty void that gnawed at me. The absence of our connection cast a shadow over everything, making the day feel unusually long and painfully lonely.
Entering the library, I spotted Kai at a table near the back, surrounded by books and notes. He looked up and waved me over with a relieved smile.
“Hey, Y/N!” Kai greeted me. “Thanks for coming. I really need your help with this science project, and… you know, the other thing.”
“Of course,” I replied, setting my bag down and pulling out my notebook. “Let’s get started.”
As we began reviewing the material, I noticed Toru entering the library. He paused at the entrance, his eyes scanning the room. When he saw me and Kai sitting close together, his expression shifted. Instead of approaching, he decided to observe from a distance, his curiosity and jealousy piqued.
“So…do you think Amai likes coffee or tea better? I’m thinking about asking her if she’d like to get something with me sometime this week…or maybe next week.” Kai asked, glancing at his notes to mask the question.
I leaned in, whispering back, “Probably tea. She seems like a tea person.”
Kai chuckled, shaking his head. “You think so? What makes you so sure?”
I gasped dramatically, placing a hand over my heart in an exaggerated manner. “You doubt my finely honed abilities to discern whether someone prefers coffee or tea? That is blasphemous!” I declared with mock seriousness, a playful glint in my eyes. “My skills in beverage detection are unparalleled. I can read the subtle signs and nuances of a person’s taste preferences with unmatched precision.”
Kai laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Alright, alright, I believe you. I just want to make sure I do this right. I don’t want to mess up any opportunities given to me."
I smiled reassuringly, leaning in a bit closer. "You won't mess this up, Kai. Just be yourself and show genuine interest in her. Trust me, Amai will appreciate the effort and sincerity. And remember, you've got me in your corner to help you out."
Kai's expression softened, his nervousness giving way to a grateful smile. "Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot. I guess I just need to relax and take it one step at a time."
I nodded, feeling a surge of warmth from our friendship. "Exactly. And who knows, maybe this will be the start of something really great for you."
Toru found a spot behind a bookshelf where he could watch us without being seen. He noticed the way Kai leaned in close, and how I responded with a smile and a laugh. His grip on his bag tightened as he tried to make sense of our interaction.
We both giggled at our own seriousness, finding some levity in the situation. Toru, catching the intimate nature of our conversation but not the details, felt his jealousy deepen. He struggled to maintain his composure as he watched us from the shadows.
“What the hell could he be saying to make you smile like that?” He thought
Kai nudged me, his voice low. “Do you think Amai likes science fiction? I’m thinking of recommending a book.”
I leaned in closer, whispering, “Yeah, I think she does. She mentioned something about liking scientific settings in our last class. Maybe you should talk with her about what her favorite book is or something amongst those lines.”
Toru’s eyes narrowed as he watched us, feeling a pang of jealousy. The way we were huddled together, whispering and laughing, was unsettling for him. What was going on between you two?
Kai looked at me with a mixture of hope and nervousness. “Do you think it’s too soon to ask Amai about her favorite books?”
I shook my head, smiling reassuringly. "Not at all. In fact, asking about her favorite books is a great way to show you’re interested in her likes and dislikes. It will make her feel appreciated."
Kai’s face lit up with relief. "Right. You’re right… I just… I don’t want her to think I’m some sort of creep."
I laughed, rubbing my hand on his shoulder, trying my best to reassure him. "For asking her about her favorite book? Kai, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. You aren’t going to sound like a creep as long as you don’t ask too many personal questions. Just keep it simple!"
Kai nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Okay, got it. Keep it simple and genuine."
I patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Exactly. You're going to do great, Kai. Like I said, just be yourself and let the conversation flow naturally. Amai will see the real you, and that's what matters most."
He took a deep breath, seeming more at ease. "Thanks, Y/N. I really appreciate your help. I don’t know what I’d do without you."
I grinned, feeling the bond of our friendship strengthen. "Anytime, Kai. I'm always here for you. Now, let's get back to this science project and make sure we ace it."
As you two continued discussing both the science project and Kai’s plans for Amai, Aksana entered the library. She spotted Toru almost immediately and saw him staring at you. With a determined look, she walked straight over to him, her books clutched to her chest.
Toru continued to watch you and Kai, his frustration growing as he struggled to understand your guys’ interaction. Just then, Aksana appeared beside him, noticing his distraction.
"Hey, Toru, can you help me with my homework again? I’m really struggling to understand it," Aksana said, effectively blocking his view of me and Kai.
Toru hesitated, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer. He wanted to focus on our interaction, to understand what was going on between us.
"Uh... sorry, Aksana, but I am actually—" he began, trying to excuse himself.
"Oh, please, Toru? I really need you!" she begged, sitting down next to him and effectively blocking his view of me and Kai.
He felt a surge of annoyance but forced a polite smile, trying to be nice despite his reluctance. "Alright, Aksana. What do you need help with?" he asked, though his thoughts were still preoccupied with me and Kai.
I glanced over, catching a glimpse of Toru and Aksana together. My chest tightened as I saw them, their heads close together as they worked on her assignment. The way his arm grazed against hers, the way his eyes looked at hers—it all made my stomach churn with an unfamiliar pang of jealousy.
Kai noticed my distraction and gently nudged me. “You okay, Y/N?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Let’s get back to work.”
We continued studying, but I couldn’t help stealing glances at Toru and Aksana. Every time I looked over, they seemed more engrossed in their conversation, making my heart sink a little further.
The image of them laughing together left a bitter taste in my mouth. The day that had started with a missed connection now felt even more complicated and heavy.
I glanced over again, catching a moment where Aksana playfully nudged Toru. He smiled politely, but there was something distant in his eyes, a flicker of the tension I knew he was trying to hide. Yet, the way they interacted still made my heart clench with jealousy.
Kai’s voice pulled me back to our conversation. “So, when do you think is the best time to ask Amai about her interests? I don’t want to come off too strong.”
“Maybe start with something light,” I suggested, trying to keep my focus. “Talk about school, then gradually bring up hobbies and books. It will feel more natural that way.”
Kai nodded, absorbing my advice. We continued to work, but my mind kept drifting. I noticed that Toru would occasionally glance my way, his expression unreadable. Each time our eyes almost met, Aksana would say something to draw his attention back to her.
Eventually, Kai suggested a break. “Hey, Y/N, why don’t we take a break and go to the café down the street? My treat for all the help you’ve been to me.” Toru’s expression darkened as he overheard Kai’s suggestion. The mention of our usual spot hit him hard. He watched as I hesitated, torn between helping Kai and the implications it might have for Toru. Maybe it would be for the best. It would help keep my mind off of him and Aksana.
“Sure, Kai. Thanks,” I finally said, trying to keep my tone neutral.
Kai beamed, completely oblivious to the tension. “Great! Let’s go.”
We packed up our things and headed out, leaving Toru and Aksana behind. Toru watched you both leave, his hand breaking his pencil in half from the jealousy and frustration he felt.
*****
I stirred my tea with my straw, struggling to drink it as I was lost in thought. My mind kept drifting back to Toru and Aksana, and the unsettling feelings it stirred within me. Kai took notice of my distraction and leaned in, concern etched on his face.
“What’s up, Y/N? You seem really out of it,” Kai asked gently.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Kai. Really,” I replied, trying to brush off my feelings with a weak smile.
“Come on, I know self-deception better than anyone. Now, what’s going on?” he pressed, his tone sincere and encouraging.
I sighed, putting down my straw and looking up at Kai. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, and I knew I couldn’t hide my feelings any longer. “It’s just… seeing Toru with Aksana today. It made me realize how much I miss talking to him. We didn’t even get to see each other at all today, and it felt so… empty.”
Kai nodded thoughtfully, a hint of realization dawning in his eyes. “Do you… like him?” he asked, a small smile making its way to his face as he saw me look away from him.
I felt my cheeks heat up, and I avoided his gaze, fiddling with my straw. “I… I don’t know, Kai,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh, so you do like him!” he yelled, his eyes lighting up at the news.
“Will you keep it down, Kai?! The whole world doesn’t need to know!” I exclaimed, placing my hands over his mouth to muffle his excitement. My heart raced at the thought of anyone else overhearing our conversation.
Kai laughed, gently moving my hands away. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep it quiet. But wow, Y/N, this is big! No wonder you seemed so distracted today.”
I sighed, my shoulders slumping as I looked down at my untouched tea. “Yeah, it’s a lot. But just looking at him makes me feel so happy. His smile, his voice, his eyes…even his dumb jokes and antics make my heart flutter.
Kai laughed, making me look up at him.
”Why don’t you tell him?”
”I tried! But every time I try to, its like the universe always seems to find a way to stop it from happening.” I explained.
”Not only that… but stupid Aksana keeps butting in, so I can never get any time alone with him,” I finished, frustration evident in my voice.
As Kai was about to say something, he noticed the weather changing. The clouds began to circle around in the sky, making him look down at me with concern.
“Uh… Y/N?” he asked, pointing towards the outside.
I turned and rolled my eyes, realizing what was happening. “Damnit. Sorry,” I said, quickly taking a deep breath to regain control. Within a few seconds, the clouds disappeared and the sun began to shine once more.
Kai watched in awe, his expression a mix of surprise and admiration. “Wow, you really do have a unique and powerful cursed technique. I forget sometimes.”
I shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, it tends to react to my emotions. It’s something I’ve been trying to control better. But now Im seeing that I need to work harder on that…especially if something like this is getting to me.”
“Don’t feel bad about it. Love is a powerful thing. It can make even the strongest of people lose control.” He said, making me ponder.
”Listen, thank you for the tea, Kai. It was so sweet of you…but I better get going. I have some things I need to sleep on tonight. How about we meet tomorrow during lunch and we can go over the plan some more and you can finally get some interaction with her.” I said, quickly leaving the cafe, not giving him any time to respond.
As I stepped outside, the fresh air helped clear my mind. I walked all the way back to my home, my thoughts swirling with everything that had happened. Once inside, I went straight to my room and face-planted into the bed, letting out a long, frustrated sigh.
As I lay there, the events of the day replayed in my mind. Every missed chance to talk to him, every moment he spent with Aksana instead of me—it all seemed to point to one conclusion. What if the universe was trying to tell me something? What if Toru and I were never meant to be more than friends?
I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away. I couldn’t give up so easily. I needed to talk to Toru, to clear the air and find out how he really felt. But the fear of rejection, of ruining our friendship, weighed heavily on my heart.
Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling, Why did things have to be so complicated? All I wanted was to be close to Toru, to share everything with him, to hear his voice….I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. “Get a grip, Y/N,” I muttered to myself.
I don’t know whats going to happen to us in the future…but I do know that I am going to make sure I get alone time with Toru tomorrow…no matter what. I need to see him…and just him. With that resolve in mind, I closed my eyes and tried to drift off to sleep.
—With Satoru—
“I don’t know what the fuck to do, Suguru! It’s like he’s completely replaced me!” Satoru exclaimed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. The usually composed and confident young man was now a bundle of nerves, his eyes reflecting the turmoil he felt inside.
Suguru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching his friend with a mixture of concern and sympathy. “Calm down, Satoru. Tell me what’s going on.”
Satoru sighed, pacing the room. “It’s Y/N. I’ve barely gotten to spend time with her, if any at all. She’s too preoccupied with that boy Kai. It’s like she doesn’t even notice me anymore. And seeing them together... it hurts, Suguru. It fucking hurts.” The words tumbled out of him in a rush, each one laced with the raw pain of unrequited love and the sting of jealousy.
Suguru nodded, understanding the depth of his friend’s anguish. He had witnessed the way Satoru looked at you, talked about you, even thought about you. He knew how much you meant to him. “Okay, first, you need to try and relax man-“
”How can you say that? You know how I feel about her. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about her. I miss her so much…I love her so much.” He started, looking down at his bandaged arm where you helped him. The memory of your gentle touch and kind words only made the pain sharper.
”i just…I thought maybe she might’ve felt the same for me.” He said, his voice breaking in defeat. Suguru lifted himself off the wall and walked towards his best friend, placing a hand on his shoulder.
”Listen man, I get it. I know how much you love her, and maybe it feels like she’s slipping away. But I feel like all of this is just a big misunderstanding. Maybe there’s something going on between those two that you don’t know of.”
”Like what? Like them dating? Do you think they are dating?” Satoru interrupted, his eyes widening in fear at the realization. The mere thought of you being with someone else made his heart ache with a pain he couldn’t bear.
”What? No! I'm just saying that maybe there is more to the story than you think. You need to talk to her. You need to finally let her know how you feel. Maybe then…all will be revealed.” He suggested. To be honest, Suguru wasn’t sure what you were doing either. He could’ve sworn you were absolutely head over heels for Satoru just as much as he was for you…did he interpret your feelings wrong? Could it be true that you moved on from his best friend to another boy?
“It’s not that simple,” Satoru replied, his voice tinged with desperation. “Every time I get close, something or someone gets in the way. Trust me, I want to tell her! I want to be with her so bad, to just hear her beautiful voice, see her beautiful smile… but instead, I end up seeing her with Kai...and hes the one getting all of those things that I want. it’s like a knife to the heart.”
Suguru placed a reassuring hand on Satoru’s shoulder. “Then make her see it. Show her what she’s missing.”
Satoru's eyes lit up with an idea. “You’re right. Maybe if she sees me with someone else, she’ll realize what she’s missing. Maybe I need to make her jealous.”
Suguru’s eyes widened in alarm. “No, that’s not what I meant! I was trying to say that you need to be honest with her, not play games.”
But Satoru, being himself, was already forming a plan in his head. “Thanks, Suguru! You’re a genius. I’ll show her that I can move on too. Maybe then she’ll realize how much she misses me.”
“Satoru, you fucking idiot, wait—” Suguru began, but it was too late. Satoru was already heading out the door, determined to put his plan into action.
Ignoring Suguru’s protests, Satoru sought out Aksana. If making Y/N jealous was the way to get her attention, then he would go all in.
*****
It didn’t take too long before Satoru found Aksana. There she was, in the library, engrossed in a book.
“Aksana, hey,” Satoru said, putting on his most charming smile.
Aksana looked up, surprised. “Oh, hi, Satoru. What’s up?”
“Do you want to hang out? Maybe grab a coffee or something?” Satoru asked, trying to sound casual.
Aksana’s face held a sinister smirk. Had all the work she put into getting close to Satoru finally paid off? “Sure, I’d love to,” she replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she sensed an opportunity unfolding before her.
As they walked out together, Satoru couldn’t help but glance around, hoping Y/N would see them. Suguru’s words echoed in his mind, but he pushed them aside. This had to work. Y/N had to realize what she was missing.
Meanwhile, Suguru watched from a distance, shaking his head. “This is going to backfire spectacularly,” he muttered to himself. He could only hope that Satoru would come to his senses before it was too late.
”What the hell is he doing?” Shoko asked, showing up out of nowhere. Suguru looked down at her and shook his head.
”Something he's going to regret.”
—With you—
Well…your plan to get alone time with Toru plan went to shit. Weeks had passed, and you hadn't had a single opportunity to be alone with Toru. Each time you attempted to get close, someone inevitably interrupted—most often Aksana. It was almost as if she had a sixth sense for when you wanted to speak with him because she was perpetually by his side. The way she clung to him made it appear as though he were her boyfriend, the two of them always in close physical proximity. People around you even started saying how cute of a couple they would be.
If you wanted to talk to him before class, it was too late—Aksana had already walked with him to school before you even had a chance. Trying to catch him during lunch was futile because Aksana had preemptively whisked him away to a nice place to eat. Attempting to speak to him after school was equally hopeless since she was already monopolizing his time, ostensibly to get help with her “homework.” It was driving your emotions into turmoil, and consequently, the weather seemed to mirror your inner state.
Days that were forecasted to be sunny turned out to be rainy, and days that were supposed to be mildly windy saw unexpectedly strong gusts. There were even some days that would have a mix of both snow and rain. All because of you. Shoko, Kai, and Suguru quickly noticed the change in you and attempted to reach out, but you were so consumed by your own emotions that you began to shut them out. The frustration and longing were driving you to the brink of insanity, and you could feel your sanity slipping away with each passing day.
What made matters worse was that you started to notice how much closer Toru and Aksana were getting. Almost too close. You still remember the day you were in the lunchroom with Kai, preparing him to go talk to Amai, only to see Toru and Aksana leaving the school premises together. They were laughing with one another, their heads close as they shared a private joke. The sight made your heart ache, a deep, painful throb that you couldn’t ignore.
Kai, noticed your sudden silence, and he followed your gaze. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
You tore your eyes away from the scene, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “Just lost in thought.”
Kai gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further. “Well, if you need to talk, you know I’m here for you, right?”You nodded, appreciating his support but feeling helpless. “Thanks, Kai. I appreciate it.”
As the days passed, the growing closeness between Toru and Aksana became increasingly difficult to ignore. They seemed inseparable, and every time you saw them together, it felt like a dagger twisting in your heart. You felt a mix of emotions—hurt, jealousy, and a strange sense of betrayal. Why was Satoru spending time with Aksana? Had you misread the situation all along? Did Satoru really not feel the same about you as you did about him? The thought was almost too painful to bear. You could’ve sworn he…you thought he…well maybe…maybe he just didn’t love you after all….
*****
The following day, you decided to go to the cafeteria to grab something quick to eat. You and Kai were close to being done with the science project, and he and Amai were becoming closer and closer each day. He managed to build up enough courage to take her out to eat, so you were left alone. Now, you had some time all to yourself to just relax. It was a rare moment, but it meant that you got to actually sit with Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru.
As you made your way, the cafeteria’s usual cacophony of voices and clattering dishes seemed to fade into the background. You spotted Shoko and Suguru sitting together, but no sign of Toru. You went over to the table Shoko and Suguru were at, and forced a smile, trying to shake off the sense of dread that had been gnawing at you. As you sat down, you heard Toru’s voice from afar. Your eyes involuntarily drifted to the direction of his voice and found Toru and Aksana entering the lunchroom, talking amongst themselves about something random.
They were standing close, their heads almost touching as they shared a private joke, their laughter mingling with the ambient noise but somehow standing out painfully to your ears. The sight made your stomach churn with jealousy and hurt, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that had become all too familiar.
Every giggle from Aksana and every smile from Toru felt like a dagger to your heart. The way they seemed so at ease with each other, so effortlessly close, was unbearable. You had always cherished the moments when Toru smiled at you like that, but now those moments seemed to be slipping away, replaced by this growing bond between him and Aksana. It was a bitter pill to swallow, seeing someone else enjoy what you longed for so deeply.
Suguru, sitting across from you, noticed your pained expression and turned to look at Toru and Aksana. He scoffed in disgust, completely in disbelief at what his best friend was doing. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in frustration. He couldn’t fathom how Toru could be so oblivious to your feelings, so wrapped up in his plan to make you jealous that he didn’t notice the hurt he was causing you.
Shoko, on the other hand, looked like she was ready to strangle both Toru and Aksana. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she watched them, her fists clenched tightly on the table. “This has to stop,” she whispered to Suguru fiercely, her voice barely containing her rage. She had seen the toll this situation was taking on you and it infuriated her to see her friend in such pain.
Both Suguru and Shoko had witnessed your frustration and heartbreak over the past few weeks. They had seen the light dim in your eyes and the smile that no longer reached your lips. It pained them to see you like this, to see someone they cared about suffering in silence. They exchanged a look, silently agreeing that something needed to be done to end this misery.
“Hey, Y/N,” Shoko said, her voice softer now as she turned her attention to you. “Are you okay?” Her eyes were filled with concern, and you could tell she was genuinely worried about you.
You forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, though your voice betrayed your true feelings. The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and you could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you fought to keep them at bay.
Suguru leaned forward, his expression serious and earnest. “You don’t have to put up with this, you know. We’re here for you,” he said, his tone comforting yet firm. He wanted you to know that you weren’t alone, that you had friends who cared about you and wanted to help.
And you were grateful. Truly. But the emotions were overwhelming, and you couldn’t bear to delve into them any further. You sighed deeply and placed your head in your hands, trying to steady your breathing. “Can we not talk about this… please?” you asked, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. The sight of Toru and Aksana together was like a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have, and it was tearing you apart. You just needed a break. A break from it all.
“Of course...” Shoko replied softly, her worry for you still evident in her eyes. She exchanged a glance with Suguru, both of them silently agreeing to shift the conversation away from the topic that was causing you so much pain.
“Well, how about we talk about training then?” Suguru suggested, his tone lightening in an attempt to lift the mood. “I heard Sensei Yaga is having all of us go out later today for a practice exam on our form to see where we are at.”
Your eyes widened in surprise and mild panic. Was that today? Just when you thought you might get a break, now you were bombarded with the realization that you had to use your abilities to get a good grade. The stress of everything was beginning to weigh heavily on you, and the thought of the upcoming practice exam only added to your anxiety.
“Great,” you muttered, your voice tinged with sarcasm. “Just when I thought I could relax, now I have to worry about my form and performance.” You ran a hand through your hair, feeling the tension building up inside you.
Suguru gave you a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s a lot, but maybe it’ll be a good distraction. Focusing on training could help take your mind off things for a bit.”
“Yeah, and you’re really good,” Shoko added, her tone encouraging. “You always impress Sensei Yaga. Just think of it as another chance to show what you can do.”
You nodded, appreciating their attempts to cheer you up. “I guess you’re right. It’s just… everything feels so overwhelming right now. I’ll try to focus on the training and give it my best shot.”
As the conversation shifted to the details of the practice exam and various training techniques, you found yourself gradually relaxing. It wasn’t a complete escape from your thoughts about Toru and Aksana, but it was a temporary reprieve. For now, you could channel your energy into preparing for the exam and proving your skills.
The laughter and chatter of the cafeteria buzzed around you, blending into the background as you listened to Shoko and Suguru discuss strategies and tips. You took a deep breath, letting their words wash over you, and tried to find some semblance of peace in the midst of the chaos that had become your life.
Just then, your phone buzzed with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you saw it was from Kai. His words caught your attention right away.
“Meet me before our practice exam today. I’m going to finally ask Amai out… and to the dance… but I want to practice what I’m going to say. I need you to pretend to be her,” he wrote.
Despite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling, a small smile grew on your face. At least someone in your life was going to have a good ending… hopefully. The idea of helping Kai with his romantic plans provided a glimmer of positivity in your otherwise turbulent day. It was a reminder that not everything was bleak and that happiness was still possible for those around you.
You quickly replied, typing out a response with a renewed sense of purpose. “Sure, I’ll meet you in our science class. We can practice there,” you texted back, feeling a bit lighter.
“Y/n…we need to tell you something. It’s about Satoru and what he’s been doing. Just please be ready to-“ Suguru started before being cut off by your voice.
“Hey guys, it was wonderful talking to you both… but something just came up and I gotta go. I’ll see you guys later today!” you said, not hearing a word they were saying before getting up and leaving, trying to muster the enthusiasm you no longer felt.
As you walked away, Toru’s eyes followed you, noticing the small smile on your face that barely masked your true feelings. His heart began to race with anticipation, a flicker of hope igniting within him. Were you finally going to come to him? Were you going to hug him and let him hear your voice that he had been longing for? He missed the way you used to laugh, the way you used to share everything with him.
Just as you made it a few feet away from him, your eyes locked with his, making both of you pause. For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still, and all the noise of the cafeteria faded into the background. His heart pounded in his chest, a flicker of hope igniting within him. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment he had dreamed about during the countless sleepless nights. He wanted to reach out to you, to bridge the painful gap that had grown between you.
However, before he could make a move, you averted your eyes and walked in the opposite direction, directly ignoring him. He felt his heart shatter right then and there from your actions. The small glimmer of hope that had sparked in his heart was extinguished in an instant. Every step you took away from him felt like a crushing blow, each one more painful than the last. The rejection was a raw, agonizing wound that left him reeling.
“Y/n…” He muttered under his breath.
—————
Part IV coming soon!
Taglist: @goreedo11
#angst#jjk imagines#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#gojo imagine#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu gojo#jjk x you#gojou satoru x you#jjk headcanons#jjk angst#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu kaisen imagines#satoru imagine#gojo saturo#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru angst#satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo headcanons#satoru headcanons#jujustsu kaisen x reader
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imagine an alternative universe where instead of them being the killers, the killers are us
(Creepypasta!Killer!Reader x Normal!Helen otis, Normal! x-virus and Normal!Toby)
Crazy (Creepypasta!Killer!Reader x Normal!Helen otis, Normal! Toby and Normal! x-virus)
Warnings: Reader has yandere vibes. Toxic relationships, with Cody the story is better because he is crazy lol
Normal! Helen Otis
Honestly, he was constantly terrified. He couldn't say no and reject you. He was completely trapped with you, he knew that the only destiny that would take him away from you was death and he was sure that if that happened you would manage to continue leaving the chaos. He preferred to be by your side.
One day he simply returned from his classes, trying to turn a deaf ear to the constant mockery of his classmates. And at nightfall things got worse and to this day he cursed the day he decided to arrive later at his house, because that's when he started it all. The same day you decided on his death and then you changed your mind unpredictably determining that he would be with you until you got bored of him. He walked feeling a presence behind him, his hands began to sweat and he understood that in his life everything could always get worse.
There you were, having already forgotten any hint of empathy you ever had, feeling miserable and mentally carrying murders that you could no longer count. Life no longer had any meaning for you and you were angry. Anger at your own life and at your own conditions that made you now stand behind a young boy who was soon going to die. Maybe that gave some kind of feeling of power. Power you needed to feel like your life wasn't just a loss of control. No, you had clearly chosen this. Without him being able to react, you hit him hard on the head, leaving him dazed. There you saw it, at that very moment you decided to leave it alive for a while.
He being conscious said all the things a victim would say to his attacker, that you would regret this and that he would call the police. Until he saw your appearance, in his head he knew that he was lost.
Weren't you just an internet story made up by someone else?
He was really lost. No one would ever believe him.
He knew he had to listen to you when you killed his friend Tom because you were jealous. And then you just continued, threatening to do much worse things if he didn't give in. Every day you became worse, you were no longer the person who sat on the side of the room and talked about how life had no meaning, you were completely crazy and your head no longer understood reasons.
Yes, he was cursing the day when he decided to arrive later at his house. However, he was slowly losing his sanity with you, enjoying your outbursts of anger and everything you did for him.
Normal! Toby
His family life was completely unstable and he himself was already going crazy. However, he was alone. Until one day you came to kill him, to end his suffering. He didn't want to do anything against it, since he already felt guilty enough to consider himself a problem.
Furthermore, he was insensitive to pain so your sadism did not cause him fear. You had entered his house, he who had just come out of a severe crisis simply stared at you, completely bored with his own life. Not that you cared, really. You only came here to do one thing and you both knew what it was. And you, being completely honest, left him alive because he didn't seem to suffer from your attacks. You were surprised, completely. You had clearly ignored his emotional distress, you simply asked him why he didn't seem to react, he replied. Without doing anything else.
Until they hear a voice. A man's voice. He was scared, he could see that fear.
“I hope he does feel some shit” You mocked him, walking out of his room.
Toby started, but something stopped him. His body simply did not respond, deep down he wanted that to happen. And he knew it. So he let you do it. That day you had brutally ended the life of his father. And he stayed there, listening to his screams. Emotionally numb, not knowing how to feel.
When you returned to his room you only thought about what to do with him.
“You're so fucking boring” You simply said.
He was used to that kind of comment so he just understood it. From that day on he followed you. He felt hate and love towards you. But he was addictive, he felt like you had somehow saved him from his misery. If you ever did something unforgivable, he just turned a deaf ear.
Normal! x-virus
He was not well, since they adopted him he learned things that give him a great advantage. From the moment you saw him you knew that he was different, different from other people. He captivated you instantly, you couldn't even think about blood at that moment. But you knew that the only way to get something on your terms was to simply go for it, enduring the tears and cries for help. So you decide to save that drama and simply leave the boy behind. Although his figure did not disappear from your mind, it was like an obsession, someone you couldn't let go. So you hid and began to observe the house where he lived, hoping that he would come out.
One day, you couldn't continue hiding your little hobby, because he had discovered you. When he started to approach you simply appeared, you waited for him. You weren't afraid of anything anymore.
“If you do anything to me it will go very badly for you” you threatened.
He just asked who you were.
His mind was completely unhinged, despite not being able to bring out those hidden impulses, so something about your appearance made him just keep you close.
Although he knew that you had complete control of the situation.
#creepypastas x reader#ticci toby x reader#x-virus x reader#bloody painter x reader#ticci toby#bloody painter#x virus#creepypasta#helen otis
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I wish Daniel got to interact with Andrew and John more :(
#LIKE PLEASE#Please#we could've had John hating Daniel#Because he totally would omg#AND ANDREW AND DANIEL COULD'VE BEEN BEST BUDS PLEASE#Andrew and Daniel's interactions at the end are kind of funny tho#yk when they had the conversation about if they were dreaming or whatever#one of my fav parts!!!!#also when Daniel talks to Angela it is really in a nice way#but tbh I always make him mean to her because I don't want Taylor to be mad at him...#BUT ANYWHO#I headcanon that John hates Daniel because he's a “dumb jock”#and he supposedly doesn't do well in his class#lmao#random stuff#daniel little hope#john little hope#andrew little hope#angela little hope#taylor little hope#little hope#dark pictures little hope
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TLDR at the bottom, as I know this became very long. My apologies.
I would really like to clarify first that I am not arguing with you or attempting to make you like her and am just attempting to explain my stance since you seemed confused about specifically this: as someone who is very solidly for mage rights in the Dragon Age games and also really likes Vivienne, I do think you overestimate how many fans she has? Which is completely understandable as fandom has cooled a little bit in the last few years, which means there’s less discourse posts floating around, but it used to be that if I found Vivienne content it was vitriolic towards her—she has a canonical Ao3 tag labeled “Vivienne (Dragon Age) Is A Bitch” for example.
We’re not prone to criticizing her character on the regular because she already gets a lot of it, on about the same level as Anders (whom I also am very fond of) and most of it has already been said before.
For examples though, her arguments about mages are genuinely infuriating and make little sense.
She is fantastically racist in the game, which is also very frustrating, though to be fair to her, I’m having trouble thinking of a companion who isn’t at some point or another without ability to correct them (Dorian supporting slavery and his “elven harpy” comment towards, Cole’s “Never trust half an elf” comment which is bad regardless of if they were intending it to be about Michel, Solas and Sera’s everything unfortunately, etc. all come to mind.) Maybe Bull, Leliana, or Josie? I can’t remember them being so off the top of my head.
These things do suck and most Vivienne fans (except for a few, but typically fans who support the fantasy Catholic Church aren’t going to be the type of fans who will bother caring about a Black woman—they’ll usually go for Cullen, the white straight man who is anti-mage and who the narrative actually cares about) are very aware of her flaws, but generally we think it was a very stupid idea to have the first Black companion (that they will actually admit to being Black anyway, unlike Isabela who got whitewashed and Morrigan and Cole, who never really have the fact that they are mixed Black acknowledged or shown in the games) support the oppressive system and use her as a mouthpiece for a conservative agenda.
(Using characters as a mouthpiece for whatever agenda the devs are trying to push with little regard to their actual characters is a very common thing in Inqusition—ex. at one point they have Cole say Cullen was a “good Templar who remembered the mages are people” when Cullen literally has a line in 2 saying “Mages aren’t people like you and me.” which is a direct quote from him, and even though Cole should by all rights be terrified by Cullen. Also, all of Varric’s Inquisition characterization.)
I mean, her companion quest is just there to have you distrust her briefly (the quest is named after a classic villain line and the youth potion paper) before “surprising” the player with the the fact that she… has layers? Cares about someone? Which is so… incredibly stupid on the Dev’s parts for a variety of reasons that if I talk about now I will start getting genuinely angry over.
I also think she has some very redeeming qualities. I personally found that she was very compassionate towards an Inquisitor she was friends with. It doesn’t stop her from being opportunistic, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing necessarily. I think this bit specifically is probably something we won’t agree on however, since we have very different readings on these moments, so I’m going keep it at that.
None of this is meant to convince you to like her at all, but I wanted to explain my perspective in doing so since you seemed confused about it.
TLDR: I, and many other pro-mage Vivienne fans, are aware of her flaws, but we think that was a terrible writing decision and do see several redeemable qualities in her character. None of this is meant to sway you in your dislike of her, but I wanted to explain my perspective since you said you didn’t understand how someone could like Vivienne and be pro-mage.
(P.S. I am very sorry if any of this comes off as condescending or if this was completely unwelcome. I’m autistic and have a hard time with tone, both reading it and delivering it. I’m working on it, but I’m still not good at tone over text.)
I. I understand all of this. I’ve criticized the fact they made the first black companion a huge bitch and a bigot against her own kind from the second it became clear that was her personality? But her being the first black companion also doesn’t innately make her a good character. Being a minority doesn’t make what a character does automatically ok or less bad, and idealization is dehumanization as much as villainizing is. It makes BioWare’s writers and their decisions gross, and their agenda gross, any anyone who uses her sucking as an excuse to be racist or disproportionately hateful to only the black companion horrible, but it at the same time doesn’t just…make her good, or ok.
She’s written stupidly, but the character they made is a bigot given no real character growth who tries to ruin the advances for mage rights even if you put forth the best possible outcomes (Lelianna Divine, allied Mages) and befriended Vivienne. She straight sucks. She does. She is a bad, selfish, emotionally manipulative person with no empathy for those of her kind less privileged than her, and a species traitor. (Or whatever? Can’t think of a better thing to categorize Mages as. Class??) It’s not like I only complain about her. I’ve been just as liberal complaining about Doriana and Sera and every other fucked up choice the Devs made. If you’ve seen anything I posted the past week, you’ve probably seen me having a meltdown over how utterly unsalvagable Inquisition is as a game. As for Viv herself, she’s not devoid of good qualities. She’ll be nice if she’s your friend, you’re right, but you have to be kind of terrible to befriend her at all, and so? So is everyone on the planet. That’s what fair weather friends /are/. But beyond that, yeah. She’s not all evil. She cared about the guy she was mistress to. She’s not a monster. But she high key is a terrible person and sucks. You’re right, the devs making her quest a quote from the Queen from Snow White of all things, to encourage a player to lie to her, is fucked up. So is literally everything they did to her. So is how they treated Bull, and Dorian, and Sera, and all kinds of things. But that doesn’t make the character good.
From your own description, you don’t actually like canon Vivienne. You like the HC version you rewrote in your head. And that’s fair, and it’s a fair way to say fuck you to the devs—I do the same with Solas. But you’ll never see me not absolutely accusing the shit out of canon end game Trespasser Solas—he’s a racial supremacist genocide intellectual dude bro, which is a horrific choice for the devs to make esp considering his preTrespasser characterization, but that’s still what he was. I can ignore that and make my HCs, but I’m not going to pretend canon wasn’t what it is. It was. And I wasn’t complaining I see alternate takes on Vivienne, but that I see people talk about Canon Viv like she’s a girlboss while claiming to be pro mage, and those things just concretely do not and cannot go together. And that complaint absolutely stands. It’s cool and even good to hc and rewrite her as a different person. But that’s not canon Viv anymore then, it’s an OC that should have been in the game.
#ask#anonymous#I’m sick of people wanting to argue with me about dragon age so I’m not tagging this sorry people who filter my blog I usually put you first#but I can’t take it anymore#I am also sick of people arbitrarily liking charcaters who suck because they’re hot or because they’re X and then ignoring or excusing every#terrible thing they do or ignoring it compeltely and it happens all the time in everything and I’m allowed to be annoyed by things that#annoy me. it annoys me I don’t see people complain about Dorian being pro slavery or even hesitate to romance him over it. it annoys me Sera#is a bigot to elves and will try to forcibly convert a lover to Fantasy Catholicism or break up. it annoys me Varric is a massive bitch in#Inquisition in many ways but everyone loves him. it annoys me he refused to speak to my husband ONCE even in the event of my death to tell#him I died. it annoys me he will Stan Iza after the end of Act2 but flips on Anders like a griddle cake. it annoys me he’s a centrist and no#one criticizes that. it annoys me Aveline is a bastard cop in DA2 and I don’t see people criticize that. it annoys me Cassandra won’t tell#Mages how to reverse tranquility and no one I see talks about it. it annoys me they Tommy Gun’d Solas’ charcater from the entire game in#Trespasser and I see people stan him or hate him but no one talk about how fucked up the message the devs flipped on a dime to push with#Trespasser was. and it annoys me Vivienne is a huge bitch and a bigot but i either see people complain only that she’s mean or Stan her as a#girlboss and ignore the fact she’s specist and horribly anti mage and a class/species traitor who doesn’t get better#and it annoys me MUCH MORE than ALL of these things that the fault Leo’s with BioWare eroding it’s ethics to a point of toxicity utterly#*Lies With#unlivable and as little as I see complaints about any of the above I still see them more than people calling to break down doors if that#dumbass white Canadians’ game company and wring their necks for every horrific racist anti-minority-action centrist#fascist religious oligarchy supremacist bullshit take they shoved down every player’s throat in Inquisitiom
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I am newly single and already have caught feelings for someone, debating if that’s a bit awful or not lmao
#To be fair I’ve known things with the then-boyf weren’t going well for a Very Long Time#We love each other so much but just aren’t compatible as a couple anymore#So I think I started grieving our relationship a long time ago#And dealt with the heartbreak a little at a time over a long period of time#Honestly the biggest things that made me want to keep trying were the family & beautiful future that we talked about having together-#And the fear of losing him as a friend because I have a hard time staying close with friends#But over time I’ve let go of the potential future we would’ve had. And now I can officially confirm that we’ll stay best friends#The last giant chunk of our relationship was already just a very strong platonic friendship#So all that’s changing is the label and any romantic expectations that weren’t matching up#Our needs and wants were too far apart for either of us to be happy or comfortable meeting in the middle#So yeah I knew the relationship was ending long before I accepted it#And in the last few weeks I recognized I was getting feelings for a very charming classmate in our costuming class#I just didn’t know if it was genuine feelings or me missing having romantic aspects in my relationship & projecting those feelings#But now I do think I’m into him#He’s just so darn charming#The thing that really pushed it was when another classmate was sad about the guy she was talking to ghosting her-#And we were all comforting her saying she deserved better & all that#And he had a response that was just so kindhearted and genuine#At the time it just felt on the same level of when I have a crush on a fictional character#Like “oh I just think they’re neat :)” and not meaning anything irl#I’m a cereal monogamist. I would never ever think about anything happening while in a relationship#But now I’m not in a relationship and that admiration for him are still there#And his smile can light a gosh darn room I swear#We smile at each other whenever we pass by & make eye contact n when he smiled and waved at me I thought “fuck I do like him huh”#So yeah that was today#But it feels way too soon after literally just getting out of a 3 year relationship#But I would love to platonically hang out with him and get to know each other#I feel like I’m supposed to be single for awhile#Even though I’ve mentally done all my mourning of that relationship#But it didn’t actually end until very recently
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some of my most random fucking original characters from half-baked story ideas i have yet to fully develop are the most tragic ones to ever exist. like yeah the people from my current work are pretty fucked up but they don’t inspire as much pain in me as when i think about citydale characters. min truly and genuinely makes me want to cry
#it’s just. auuugh when you’re a writer and you’re sooo lonely and you’re this like 15 year old trans kid and your sisters dead and your mom#hates you and all you can do is live in your own delusion and form parasocial relationships with strangers in your class or on your tiktok#but for some reason god picks you why does god pick you is it even god??? and you create ur own little fucking self contained world through#your writing and as you write your characters based off these real life parasocial relationships you suck these real people into this fake#world and you rewrite their lives and everything about them and make them more relatable and more you and control their fates the way you#can’t control your own. and suddenly ur 16 and ur a miniature god and everyone you were obsessed with hates you so so much but you never#meant to do anything bad. and there’s one kid who gives you a chance and he’s just like you but yeah of course he is that’s because you MADE#him just like you you wouldn’t give him a happy ending or a happy life and he hates you too he has to!#and then you’re road tripping with this kid through a town that’s not real and a world that’s not your own even though you made it#and ur meeting god and ur meeting angels but who fucking knows you might just be hallucinating everything’s so murky and you don’t know when#you got blessed/cursed with these powers and you don’t know if the boy next to you is real#and you’ve spent ur life scared of god and now you become him but he can’t be bothered with you and you’re not even the only one you’re not#even special#and all this time ur sisters dead and ur parents suck and you try to rewrite both those things but it hasn’t quite worked. and ur really sad#and fundamentally you’re still 15 and stuck in ur room creating a false reality#*will toledo voice*: heyyy space cadet it’s alright to want to dream it doesn’t mean reality is mean-#Jesus fucking christ ahyway. one of these days i will sit down and i will write citydale#oc posting…#citydale#oliver talks
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I only watch the sopranos for the scenes between carmela and meadow actually
#the sopranos#how they got closer after meadow moved out? reminds me so much of me and my mom#and meadow is so smart I love when she talks abt the stuff she learns in class#+ she KNOWS what her dad does and she stood up for him against jackie’s daughter at the funeral reception#when by all means she had NO reason to. ‘what about loyalty?’ ok queen!!!#glad jackie jr is dead solely for her sake. carmela was RIGHT about him and she doesnt even rub it in bc she knows meadow loves him still#a mother knows her daughter at the end of the day and all she wants is to protect her both from tony and the rest of the world#orig
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