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#and this book could help in writing the pov story! ;)
ozzgin · 3 days
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Hope you’re doing well! Just read your monster writer fics. I love the idea, it’s so hilarious to imagine a monster having a human kink. Beat what if the reader is also an author? And author who writes monster fucking stories! I could just imagine them working together. Helping where the other is curious/lacking knowledge. They could write a companion series where one book is the monster’s pov and the other is human pov all for the same interaction. Oh! Or what if our little human is being hired to write a very intimate book about a different breed/species of monster, how would our writer monster respond/help? Just such a fun idea to play with!
In my attempt to connect some of the stories together, I came up with the idea that the Monster Author is a frequent guest at Monster Hotel. And Reader could be working at the hotel as a way to make money on the side, because their published books aren't quite at the same level of popularity yet.
Both write monster-human smut. They have no idea about each other. The Monster Author is a scattered airhead, too absorbed by his writing to notice anything around him. He is completely oblivious to the multiple fliers and brochures advertising a human employee. He leaves manuscripts and unfinished pages all over the room, which are then sorted and cleaned by Reader, but the handwriting is too atrocious to decipher. Reader has no idea what all that paper is about.
And then, it happens. The hotel hosts a small award ceremony for creative writing, featuring old-timers and promising newcomers. The two main winners for erotic romance are Monster Author and Reader.
"We'd like to congratulate our own (Y/N), for being not only an exemplary employee, but a talented writer as well", the manager announces.
The Monster Author is mildly curious about this mysterious hobby artist. Reader climbs onto the stage, and the dots finally connect. They stare in disbelief. To think they've been folding the sheets of their favorite writer. The ancient Beast returns their shocked look. An actual human? They had an actual human under his nose, this entire time?!
He immediately begins to devour Reader's books. Fascinating. This demands a collaboration. No, a permanent partnership. Reader must quit this silly job at once, there are ideas to be uncovered and stories to be created. He insists. He would be more than glad to help Reader elaborate on monster...particularities. He can even demonstrate it himself, if Reader would only allow it.
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liquidstar · 3 months
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a friend who'd wait :)
#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops.#and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can!#and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol#finn's ocs#finn's art#i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me#and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun#i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here:#barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past#he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it#he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned#which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them#they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore#but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird#and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place#though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library#and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together#since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door#eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement#barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time.#barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate#but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd#he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself#but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done.#and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies.#and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them)#and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances''#from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov#sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3#but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh
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britishchick09 · 4 months
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i've been itching to write the second rewrite book (an erik mystery!) but i'm still working on his pov story... that one will take a while to get done and i'm excited to move the story forward! (at least partially!) :D
(and unlike the last poll, i'll actually do the result!) ;)
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Point of View: the Biggest Thing You're Missing!
Point of view is one of the most important elements of narrative fiction, especially in our modern writing climate, but you rarely hear it seriously discussed unless you go to school for writing; rarely do help blogs or channels hit on it, and when they do, it's never as in-depth as it should be. This is my intro to POV: what you're probably missing out on right now and why it matters. There are three essential parts of POV that we'll discuss.
Person: This is the easiest part to understand and the part you probably know already. You can write in first person (I/me), second (You), and third person (He/she/they). You might hear people talk about how first person brings the reader closer to the central character, and third person keeps them further away, but this isn't true (and will be talked about in the third part of this post!) You can keep the reader at an intimate or alien distance to a character regardless of which person you write in. The only difference--and this is arguable--is that first person necessitates this intimacy where third person doesn't, but you still can create this intimacy in third person just as easily. In general, third person was the dominant (and really the only) tense until the late 19th century, and first person grew in popularity with the advent of modernism, and nowadays, many children's/YA/NA books are written in first person (though this of course doesn't mean you can't or shouldn't write those genres in the third person). Second person is the bastard child. Don't touch it, even if you think you're clever, for anything the length of a novel. Shorter experimental pieces can use it well, but for anything long, its sounds more like a gimmick than a genuine stylistic choice.
Viewpoint Character: This is a simple idea that's difficult in practice. Ask yourself who is telling your story. This is typically the main character, but it needn't be. Books like The Book Thief, The Great Gatsby, Rebecca, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the Sherlock series are told from the perspective of a side character who isn't of chief importance to the narrative. Your viewpoint character is this side character, the character the reader is seeing the world through, so the main character has to be described through them. This isn't a super popular narrative choice because authors usually like to write from the perspective of their most interesting character, but if you think this choice could fit your story, go for it! You can also swap viewpoint characters throughout a story! A word of warning on that: only change your viewpoint character during a scene/chapter break. Switching mid-scene without alerting the reader (and even when you do alert the reader) will cause confusion. I guarantee it.
Means of Perception; or, the Camera: This part ties the first two together. If you've ever heard people talk about an omniscient, limited, etc. narrator, this is what they mean. This part also includes the level of intimacy the reader has with the viewpoint character: are we in their heads, reading their thoughts, or are we so far away that we can only see their actions? If your story is in a limited means of perception, you only have access to your character's head, eyes, and interpretations, where an omniscient narrator sees through all characters' heads at once. (This doesn't eliminate the viewpoint character--most of your writing will still be in that character's head, but you're allowed to reach into other characters' thoughts when needed. You could also be Virginia Woolf, who does fluidly move through everyone's perspectives without a solid viewpoint character, but I would advise against this unless you really are a master of the craft.) Older novels skew towards third person omniscient narration, where contemporary novels skew towards first person limited. You also have a spectrum of "distant" and "close." If omniscient and limited are a spectrum of where the camera can swivel to, distant and close is a spectrum of how much the camera can zoom in and out. Distant only has access to the physical realities of the world and can come off as cold, and close accesses your character's (or characters', if omniscient) thoughts. Notice how I said narration. Your means of perception dramatically effects how your story can be told! Here's a scene from one of my stories rewritten in third-person distant omniscient. The scene is a high school football game:
“Sometimes,” he said. “Not much anymore.” “It’s not better, then?” She shivered; the wind blew in. “A little.” His tone lifted. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be better, though.” She placed a hand on his arm, stuttered there, and slipped her arm around his waist. “Did it help to be on your own?” He raised an eyebrow. “You were there.” “Yes and no.” “And the guys, the leaders.” “Come on,” she heckled. “Okay, okay.” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, it helped. I don’t think—I don’t know—I’d be me if they’d fixed it all.” She grinned. “And who might you be?” “Oh, you know. Scared, lonely.” He fired them haphazardly, and a bout of laughter possessed him which Piper mirrored. “Impatient.” “And that’s a good thing?” “No.” He sat straight. “Gosh, no. But I don’t want to be like him, either.” He pointed to the field; Devon recovered a fumbled ball. “He’s never been hurt in his life.” She met his eyes, which he pulled away. “You don’t mean that," Piper said. “Maybe not. He’s too confident, though.” The cloth of Carmen's uniform caved and expanded under Piper's fingers.
With distant-omniscient, we only get the bare actions of the scene: the wind blows in, Piper shivers, the cloth rises and falls, Carmen points, etc. But you can tell there's some emotional and romantic tension in the scene, so let's highlight that with a first person limited close POV:
“Sometimes,” he said. “Not much anymore.” “It’s not better, then?” Frost spread up from her legs and filled her as if she were perforated rock, froze and expanded against herself so that any motion would disturb a world far greater than her, would drop needles through the mind’s fabric. A misplaced word would shatter her, shatter him. “A little.” His tone lifted. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be better, though.” She placed a hand on his arm, thought better, and slipped her arm around his waist. “Did it help to be on your own?” He raised an eyebrow. “You were there.” “Yes and no.” “And the guys, the leaders.” “Come on,” she heckled. “Okay, okay.” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, it helped. I don’t think—I don’t know—I’d be me if they’d fixed it all.” She grinned. “And who might you be?” “Oh, you know. Scared, lonely.” He fired them haphazardly, and a bout of laughter possessed him which Piper mirrored. “Impatient.” “And that’s a good thing?” “No.” He sat straight. “Gosh, no. But I don’t want to be like him, either.” He pointed to the field; Devon recovered a fumbled ball. “He’s never been hurt in his life.” “You don’t mean that.” She spoke like a jaded mother, spoke with some level of implied authority, and reminded herself again to stop. “Maybe not. He’s too confident, though.” Piper felt the cloth of his waist cave and expand under her fingers and thought: is this not confidence?
Here, we get into Piper's thoughts and physical sensations: how the frost rises up her, and how this sensation of cold is really her body expressing her nervous fears; how she "thought better" and put her arm around his waist; her thought "is this not confidence?"; and how she reminds herself not to talk like a mother. Since I was writing from the close, limited perspective of a nervous high schooler, I wrote like one. If I was writing from the same perspective but with a child or an older person, I would write like them. If you're writing from those perspectives in distant narration, however, you don't need to write with those tones but with the authorial tone of "the narrator."
This is a lot of info, so let's synthesize this into easy bullet points to remember.
Limited vs. Omniscient. Are you stuck to one character's perspective per scene or many?
Close vs. Distant. Can you read your characters' thoughts or only their external worlds? Remember: if you can read your character's thoughts, you also need to write like you are that character experiencing the story. If child, write like child; if teen, write like teen; etc.
Here's another way to look at it!
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This is a confusing and complex topics, so if you have any questions, hit up my ask box, and I'll answer as best I can. The long and short of it is to understand which POV you're writing from and to ruthlessly stick to it. If you're writing in limited close, under no circumstances should you describe how a character other than your viewpoint character is feeling. Maintaining a solid POV is necessary to keeping the dream in the reader's head. Don't make them stumble by tripping up on POV!
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amoreva · 4 months
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yes i’m so glad you’re writing for clarisse because im obsessed with your writing.
could you write something with reader being a really confident and vain daughter of aphrodite who channels her mothers war goddess attributes and is one of the best sword fighter in camp? also playful teasing from reader and sparring because 1 i need justice for the massacre of aphrodites character and 2 clarisse x aphrodite!reader is essential to my life force. haters can hate.
maybe also show how other campers interact with her as well, like luke showing percy around idk
LOVER AND A WARRIOR
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pairing: clarisse la rue x daughter of aphrodite!reader
summary: clarisse has always been a hard hitter and a tough lover, but a certain someone from aphrodite makes her soft. and she doesn’t entirely mind it.
warnings: use of “y/n” once or twice, kinda switches to percy’s pov, fighting, almost death(?), fluff, mentions of beckendorf!!
a/n: i really hope i did this request right! enjoy! i was trying to crank this out as soon as i could.
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Everyone thought you’d be claim by Ares (even though your dad was still very present and not a god) or at least by Athena. You were smart and a hell of a lot strong; both mentally and physically.
So it came to a surprise when Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, claimed you.
Though, Clarisse knew you were her daughter. You were every bit of passionate: about life, hobbies, interests, her. You paid attention to every little detail that flew out of her mouth (she noticed).
It didn’t help that you channeled your mother’s past title and abilities. After all, in Sparta, she was known as Aphrodite Aeria, “Aphrodite the Warlike”.
Clarisse was head over heels for you the minute she saw you fight (you even bested Luke, how was she not supposed to not fall in love with you?)
You and Clarisse started dating at the peak of the Summer Solstice and never looked back. No one knew Clarisse could be so…tolerating to someone outside of her cabin, especially to one of Aphrodite’s daughter.
Percy surely didn’t expect it either.
Clarisse was so callous and you were compassionate. He guessed that thing about opposites attract was true.
“Look, you want attention here, dummy?” Clarisse spoke condescendingly to the newest camper. She just couldn’t believe a scrawny kid took down the Minotaur. “You better be ready for it when it comes.”
Clarisse made Percy flinch and walked past Hermes’ kids. An amused smile plastered on her face. Luke shook his head as Ares’ kids passed which begged the question. “Why don’t they mess with you?” Percy asked.
“They know better.” Luke smirked.
“Luke’s the second strongest swordsman in camp.” Chris added with a proud grin.
“Who’s the first?”
“Y/N.”
Suddenly, you walked by in perfect timing. Percy’s eyes glued to you. You witnessed the whole situation and went to talk to your girlfriend. “Clarisse…” You muttered.
Percy watched Ares’ daughter soften at the mention of her name from your lips. Nothing in the facial expressions, it was all in the eyes.
“She doesn’t look menacing or intimidating—” Percy acknowledged.
“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Luke reminded as he glanced back at you and Clarisse. “Got my ass handed to me when I sparred with her.”
Percy looked at Luke. “Really? Can I train with her?”
•••
It wasn’t odd to find Clarisse in Aphrodite’s cabin; nor was it odd to find the two of you cuddling on your bunk. Sunlight beaming onto the two of you and the only sounds were the campers outside. All of your siblings when do go enjoy camp activities while you read to Clarisse.
Ancient Greek flows from your mouth like the water from River Styx. Clarisse had one arm haphazardly thrown across your abdomen. Her head perched on your shoulder.
Silently, she admired the way your lips moved. The way you were invested into the story. The way she can see all the tiny details on your gorgeous face from this position.
Clarisse found herself falling for you more and more with each second of the day. She was aggressive and intimidating. She was Ares’ favorite daughter after all, but she found herself becoming more softhearted to you.
“You’re my…everything.” Clarisse whispered fondly. It might’ve been a slip of the tongue, but it made you blush.
She never failed to make you blush. Your rosy cheeks complimented with a sheepish grin. “Clarisse…” You mumbled and put down the book.
“I mean it.” Clarisse stated firmly and sat up on her elbow. Her heart locket fell from her orange Camp t-shirt. It matched yours, except you had a sword charm. Clarisse insisted on giving it to you (after threatening Beckendorf once or twice) for your two month anniversary.
“I know.” You reassured and pecked her lips quickly. Clarisse smiled and dived back in to press her lips into yours
A giggle erupted from you. A rush of dopamine intoxicating your brain. It always felt like the first kiss with her. “I love you, I love you, I love you—” You repeated into her lips.
“I get it, lovergirl.” Clarisse chuckled as she pulled away. Her cheek tinged with pink. “I love you too.”
She continued. “Will you keep reading? You sound so beautiful when you read—”
“Clarisse!” You exclaimed. Your blush even more prominent.
“What? I can’t tell my girlfriend she has a voice from the sirens that could bring the Big Three to tears?”
“Clarisse…”
“Keep reading, lovergirl.”
•••
“This is safe, right?” Percy asked Grover.
“Yeah! Perfectly safe.” Grover reassured with a smile.
Luke had recruited you to help train Percy (Clarisse just so happened to tag along). There were swords in all of your hands. You were going to fight Clarisse and Luke and Percy doubted you were that good.
It was all to help Percy learn more about fighting with the sword and a great way to show off. The forest clearing gave enough room to really show your talents in combat.
“Don’t go easy on me!” You yelled at Clarisse and Luke on the other side of the clearing. Percy and Grover were sitting on rather large rocks anticipating the battle.
You took a deep breath and your eyes hardened. It was like switched had been flipped within you. You shifted your foot, sliding it in the dirt. The air felt different. Tense, sharp, lung-crushing.
Clarisse and Luke tightened their grip on their swords and gave each other a confirming nod. Percy and Grover watched as the three older half-bloods charged one another.
With precision and quick-wit, you were able to keep Clarisse and Luke on their toes. Luke shifted his weight in his feet before charging you again. You clashed swords. Celestial Bronze against Celestial Bronze.
Your ears perked up on shoes slapping against the dirt. You ducked causing Clarisse to swing at Luke. There was no trace of a your warm sweet smile Percy saw, only your hardened gaze.
It was kind of scary to see Aphrodite’s daughter switch up so fast.
Clarisse cursed under her and swiped her sword as if flicking off imaginary blood. She met your gaze, her heart skipped a beat. She rushed you again and swiped your legs. You jumped back with the grace of a swan, but Clarisse parried her sword immediately after.
You riposted Clarisse when Luke cane out from behind Clarisse to continue an onslaught of attacks. You scoffed quietly, but you could never complain. It was a good workout.
Yet, a particularly heavy swing from you knocked Luke’s sword from out of his hand. His sword flinging at Percy’s head. Percy shouted and ducked.
“Oh my gods!” You exclaimed and slapped your heads over your mouth in surprise.
Clarisse and Luke stopped their attacks and looked back at Percy and Grover. Luke’s celestial bronze sword was sticking out of a tree. Percy centimeters away from the blade.
You apologized for your reckless behavior. Percy was more scared of how fast you switched from your focused nature to a worried attitude.
“It’s okay…” Percy laughed nervously.
“He said he was fine!” Clarisse called out and walked towards you, pressing a small kiss to your cheek.
“Sorry, Percy.” Luke apologized.
“A lover and a fighter. Got it.” Percy noted in his mind as you complained to Clarisse about feeling bad about impaling Percy.
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stardustizuku · 4 months
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Unfortunately I came across a very strange and misinformed video about Black Butler.
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It’s not good. Don’t watch it. Unless you wanna ruin your day, in which case have fun.
Despite it all, I watched it. What left me wondering, however, was how off the mark the person who made the video was on, well, everything.
From their insistence that the Book of Circus Arc theme or point is non existent, to reading Ciel’s character so badly they genuinely thought the Green Witch Arc did nothing for his character development.
While baffled, it also made me think on how someone could read Black Butler so badly.
Sure, you can say that there’s no real way to read or interpret something “in the wrong way” but interpreting The Hunger Games as a pure battle-royale action story would make you believe it’s bad.
“Why are we focusing so much on how the capitol preps them?” Or “Why isn’t Katniss winning everything?” Or “I wanna know more about the rebellion” All questions that miss the actual point of the story - which is criticizing (not solving or ignoring) the way that media distracts us from violence via spectacle.
The same thing applies here. While there is no “right” way to consume media, there’s things that the author makes clear they wanna focus when creating a story. Things that, if you understand, make the story you’re reading actually make sense.
And in Black Butler there’s three things that you have to understand to properly get what Yana is saying.
Sebastian is the protagonist
Ciel and Sebastian’s relationship IS the story.
And that relationship is, fundamentally, a positive one.
A quicker version of it would be:
Black Butler is a love story from the POV of Sebastian, and you have to ship it to get it
- but that’s not entirely true.
You can still look at it as a complex but ultimately positive rship and get in broad strokes of what it’s conveying. It doesn’t have to be romantic. Although, it helps much more than a platonic framing.
(That said, interpreting their rship as father and son, still isn’t the best way to go about it. Mostly because by its very nature of “soul consuming” their relationship is extremely sexually charged. And hey, if you’re into that I don’t judge. However, if you’re desperately trying to interpret their rship as NOT romantic to the point you fall back on heteronormative patriarchal ideals of nuclear familiar as framing device, I don’t think this interpretation bodes with you)
Now, having all that ground work:
Why do I say these are the key components to understand BB?
Okay so, first,
1. Sebastian is the Main Character. The protagonist.
There’s a lot of people who wanna argue against it, claiming he’s either the villain or the antagonist. Both wrong.
He does not function as an antagonist. Even if, and an emphasis on if, you consider Ciel to the protagonist, Sebastian isn’t a narrative antagonist.
If you wanna go back to Creative Writing 101, be my guest. An antagonist is directly defined by the protagonist. It’s the opposing force. If the protagonist wants A, the antagonist wants to stop them from getting A.
Sebastian’s catchphrase is “Yes, my Lord”. He never opposes Ciel, in fact quite the contrary. By the mere fact they’ve created contract, it means that they’ve both agreed in the inevitable outcome.
People want to frame Sebastian as the villain, because Ciel having his soul taken by a demon, would be a BAD END in the context of their moral compass. They see Ciel as a frail victim of abuse, who’s being tricked by Sebastian, who wants Ciel’s soul.
Which is an. Interpretation. A bad one. But still one.
The narrative (and whether the narrative fits your personal moral compass and lack of critical thinking is irrelevant) treats Ciel as an agent in his own destiny. The abuse he suffered was the moment in which he had no control. It’s only after he meets Sebastian that he can rid of both his guilt and his despair, and do what he wants.
In this case though, it’s revenge.
The famous “Asthma” scene shows this. If Ciel is taken back to his past, he becomes helpless. Swarmed with pain and memories that make it so that he can’t even react. Sebastian is his saving grace. If Ciel didn’t have him, and the power he wields to rebuilt what’s broken, he would crumble once more.
If Ciel has a panic attack, because of all the pain he has, Sebastian picks him up and says “you are not a helpless child anymore, you are not a victim anymore, you have the power to do anything. So, what do you wanna do?”
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Ciel’s answer is to kill them.
A proper analogy would be to say that, if Sebastian offers a gun, Ciel pulls the trigger. They are both at fault. Sebastian, strictly speaking, is not here to directly cause Ciel’s downfall, but as a tool Ciel uses to plunge into the abyss.
If, again if, you were to frame Ciel as a protagonist, Sebastian falls closer to the “Voice of reason” character. Not a literal voice of reason, but a literary one. If you have a protagonist and an antagonist exchanging ideals, the Voice of Reason serves to engage with the protagonist on their own ideals.
That said, Ciel isn’t the protagonist. The story quickly falls apart if you interpret it as such.
Things such as Ciel’s character arc being…shall I say odd?
It’s not that his character arc isn’t there, but it’s never lineal. His goals stay the same, the only thing that happens is that we start to peel back the “why”s of his goals. Throughout the series it’s never about Ciel understanding himself better, he knows who he is, he knows what he wants, he knows why he wants it. He doesn’t ever need to uncover these, but simply remember them. Because it’s always about the audience understanding Ciel.
He knows he wants revenge.
In the Circus Arc: He knows that he needs Sebastian because without him, the pain of the abuse he suffered would be too much to bear. But WE are introduced to it.
In the Book of Atlantis: He knows that with this new lease he does not want happiness and peace, he wants revenge. The one being told this is the audience.
In Green Witch Arc: He knows that their revenge isn’t for his family, the real Ciel or guilt. It’s because he wants it. He’s angry, he’s upset, and this is entirely for him. The one being told this is the audience.
Except. Not really. The one either discovering or remembering these key moments - is always Sebastian.
Sebastian is the one who reassures him that he now holds the power of a demon to override the pain. Sebastian is the one who remembers that to override that pain, Ciel wants revenge. And Sebastian is the one who discovers that that revenge isn’t built out of grief or guilt, but for himself.
We are witnessing it all, through the eyes of Sebastian.
This is why we have an extremely vague idea of who Ciel is, Sebastian does not have the whole picture.
If you haven’t been reading this manga with your eyes closed, you’ll realize we have a better grasp at Sebastian’s character than that of Ciel. We get a lot of insight on how he thinks and what he values through light hearted dialogue he has with the servants. You even see the character development in these little interactions.
Think about how when he first arrived to the mansion he magically created food with no regards to taste, but when he meets Bard he states that food is created to see whoever will eat it, smile.
That is character development, more than you will be able to see from Ciel.
Because Ciel’s character, while not static, doesn’t go from point A to point B. Mostly, cause it doesn’t need to. He went through that when he lost the real Ciel and got Sebastian. Everything we are watching is the falling out.
Now, given the fact that I’ve told you that it makes more sense for Sebastian to be the protagonist/main character, and that he 100% isn’t either a villain or antagonist in ANY of the interpretations you can get:
Do you believe me?
If you don’t, you’ll probably believe Yana herself.
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This is from the first Volume, where Yana herself describes the process of making Black Butler. The primary idea behind the creation of BB was a butler as a “hero”.
If you go back to the introductory chapter, you notice that Ciel is barely mentioned. He’s simply the one to give Sebastian impossible tasks and standards that Sebastian must find how to overcome.
Ciel is properly introduced until the NEXT chapter. The second chapter has this formula too, introducing Lizzie as a problem to overcome. Although, to Sebastian the best way to “get rid of the problem” is simply to indulge her.
The issue here being that the problem isn’t as simple as a business meeting but something directly tied to Ciel and Ciel’s past. Each time that Sebastian has to solve a problem, it chips away at Ciel. While with Lizzie he shows a persona, once he’s alone with Sebastian he acknowledges the toll it took on him. It serves to build Ciel as Sebastian’s master, and how some problems aren’t as simple as discarding a tablecloth.
The third and the fourth, are a unified narrative, with a similar premise to the first chapter. Ciel gets kidnapped and Sebastian must find a way to retrieve him without raising suspicions.
If the first chapter is to set up what Sebastian must do as a butler, the third and the fourth serve to set up what he must do as a demon.
The entirety of the volume, and up to Book of Circus Arc, is about how Sebastian tries to follow the increasingly absurd orders that Ciel has - it is not about Ciel trying to solve them.
That’s how they work, we follow Sebastian for the most part, because he’s the one having to come up with the solutions.
If anything, in early Kuro, where the emphasis was more on a slice of life conflict, Ciel is the antagonist. He’s the one creating problems for Sebastian to solve.
What’s more, in the second volume, the very first chapter is one from Sebastian’s POV. So far, we hadn’t gotten an entire chapter from Ciel’s POV. In fact, I would find it hard to point to a single chapter where Ciel is the POV throughout. The reveal of real Ciel and the flashback is the closest contender.
But once we move past early Kuro, and into Book of Circus, this set up changes.
It’s fairly easy to assume that Ciel is the main character, because from this point on the conflict of the plot sorta surrounded him. We spend a lot of time with him and with his story. The enemies start being people directly tied to Ciel and Ciel’s trauma. Rarely, if at all, we get to see Sebastian before he met Ciel.The framing device for the story, is Ciel.
This is where point 2 gets intertwined.
2.- Sebastian and Ciel’s relationship IS the story.
The story begins at the point where Sebastian and Ciel met. Who Ciel was before he met Sebastian, informs why he’s the way he is when he does. You have to know all he went through to understand why he’s a brat, why he lashes out. However Sebastian’s past doesn’t matter…because Sebastian himself doesn’t care much for who he was, before he was “Sebastian”. That’s also part of the narrative.
Unlike Ciel, he doesn’t seem opposed to revealing information from before the contract. He talks about how pets from where he is from are gross, he talks about how he knows how to dance because of other places he’s been to, and alludes to the life he's lived before.
Just that, to him, they're footnotes.
He makes allusions to a very bland, uninteresting life, up to the point he meets Ciel.
That’s why we don’t know more about his past.
As for why we focus on Ciel’s story…okay maybe we need Creative Writing lessons 102
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I studied Dramaturgy for about 3 to 4 years. And something you notice is how play-writing is the quintessential story telling. It’s making it work with the bare bones of a story.
Some other mediums have more finesse, more depth, or more spectacle - all amazing things that work for whatever they’re created for. But understanding a play, how and why it works, helps understand the fundamentals of any derivative story telling medium.
Particularly, conflict.
Conflict is dialogue and dialogue can take many forms. A story, in its essence, is a dialogue between two opposing ideas.
Take Batman, for example, who embodies the ideas of justice and order. On his own, he’s not a well rounded character.
If you ONLY present him, in a vaccum with nothing else, you don’t have a character. You have a list of characteristics that you’re supposed to know.
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You only know who he is when you have dialogue with another character.
I say Dialogue, but it doesn’t necessarily mean spoken language at one another. Dialogue can mean fist fighting, playing tabletop games, talking to other people about the other, or even just a competition. The idea is to simply to compare and contrast both ideas.
If you want an example on how tabletop games serve as dialogue, watch the video “Well, Someone Had to Explain the Liar’s Dice Scene” by Lord Ravecraft
Another example, were we to retake Batman, you have him fight Joker. Who’s the embodiment of chaos and randomness.
In the following picture, you get far more information than the one previously shown. While the Joke fights with daggers and fake guns, Batman only uses his fists. He doesn’t use the tricks that Joker does. His serious demeanor, contrasted with Joker’s glee at the dangerous situation. The fact that Batman has a deathly grip on Joker’s shirt, while the Joker doesn’t, which shows a desperation to catch him.
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You are being shown, through a dialogue, who Batman is.
It’s so much easier and much more effective to explore a character through another character.
This is the reason why Shonen has a tendency to make incredibly good gay ships. If you want to explore Naruto’s personality, and his feelings of inferiority, you HAVE to have him interact with Sasuke.
If you wanna understand Hinata’s passion for volleyball, you have him enjoy himself the most with the only other crazy motherfucker who’s as obsessed with volleyball - Kageyama.
And I think that originally, Yana had this problem.
Sebastian was the protagonist, but she had little room to develop him as a character in the confines of the manor, dealing with random enemies.
She likely tried to create Grell as someone of the same stature as Sebastian. Someone who could be this other person to engage dialogue with and show or allude to his past a bit more.
The problem being that Sebastian didn’t care for his past. Or really, engaging with anyone. He sees everyone as below him, but when confronted with Grell who isn’t below him, he doesn’t wanna talk to her.
So you’re stuck in conundrum.
How do you have dialogue with a character, that as a character trait, doesn’t really wanna have dialogue?
Well, Grell also solves the problem. Because only the moment she gets him to start any semblance of a dialogue - is questioning why he’s serving Ciel.
And this is the moment when it’s perfectly cemented that the focus of the story is their relationship.
Why is Sebastian here? Why does he stay? What did he see in Ciel that made him want this extremely convoluted contract?
THATS the dialogue.
THATS the conversation we’re having in Black Butler.
We need to know Ciel because understanding who he is, let’s us know WHY /Sebastian/ is here.
Then slowly, with the introduction with the Undertaker, we find out Sebastian’s conflict.
Which is…
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He’s scared of losing Ciel. It becomes apparent with the constant imagery of the Undertaker taking away Ciel and at some point even obtaining r!Ciel’s body, that he’s worried it might happen.
But he can only be worried that Ciel might be taken away if he wants to stay near Ciel.
And that’s his character arc.
Realizing that he actually likes Ciel, cares for him and the role he plays a butler that he doesn’t want this to end.
In the first chapters, he doesn’t feel a need to protect Ciel anymore than what’s strictly necessary. Just don’t die, that’s about as deep as his involvement in chapter 4 gets.
But by the Green Witch Arc, he feels a need to protect Ciel from ANY harm.
This is why I also said
3.- Their relationship is fundamentally a positive one.
In broad strokes, Sebastian to Ciel is the person who allows him to survive. He’s not worried about giving up his soul since he’s already dead. While Ciel to Sebastian, is someone who’s making him have fun. He’s slowly becoming more and more attached to Ciel and the life he has with Ciel.
Their relationship is not that of just a predator and prey, but also of master and pet.
In the terms that Black Butler itself would call: Sebastian is a wild wolf acting like a collared dog.
Ciel is aware that the wild beast will eat him at the end of the day, but if he clings hard to leash for now, he might just be able to have Sebastian maul his abusers.
Sebastian as a dog, currently finds that he enjoys being a chained dog.
(This is demonstrated in the Green Witch arc where he quite literally says, he doesn’t wanna be a wild beast and prefers to be a butler)
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And much like the actual DOG Sebastian, Ciel constantly interprets his attempts to get close and protect him, as an act of aggression.
This push and pull of Ciel’s perception of Sebastian and Sebastian’s true motives is what feeds the story.
And the briefs interludes were that isn’t the case (what other people call the “plot”, but I would refer to as the connective tissue) such as Sullivan and Wolfram, the other servant’s past, the grim reapers and the like, serve as a parallel to Ciel and Sebastian relationship. Either to signify how they care for each other, highlight their weaknesses or fears, or explore how they feel.
It’s no surprise that Sullivan and Wolfram are parallels to Ciel and Sebastian. A sheltered sickly child who seeks the protection of a cold hearted machine that only knew how to kill, but who eventually found he cared for her genuinely.
Undertaker and Claudia’s relationship being heavily paralleled with them, even though we aren’t 109% sure what they had but heavily implied it was a romantic attraction from the undead supernatural creature and a Phantomhive.
Everything is a parallel.
That’s why, like the approach of the terrible original video, is flawed.
Trying to interpret Black Butler as action scene after action scene, with mystery after mystery with the only connective tissue being the mystery of who burned down the mansion - is missing the trees for the forest.
That’s not the point.
And if you’re too much of a prude to engage with gothic horror in its gothic horror game, I see little point as to why you even bother to engage with it at all.
A lot of people, including the person who create the video, simply refuse to acknowledge Black Butler IS the story of Sebastian and Ciel as a close and positive relationship, romantically and sexually charged. The reason for it being that they’re “put off” by it.
Part of me wonders how much that is genuinely true, and how much is just performative outrage. It’s like ignoring the fact that Cersei and Jami are in an incestous relationship and try to frame it as “platonic love”, because the idea of it is THAT off putting.
But regardless of that, if you don’t like the fact that it’s as canon as canon can get, I would reccomend you don’t engage with the story at all.
As I’ve explained, the entirety of the series is about them. If you refuse to see Sebastian and Ciel as, at the very least, a duo that cares deeply for the other - you aren’t reading Black Butler.
I have no idea what you’re reading.Perhaps your own biases and subconscious stigma with British aesthetic. At that point, watch the fucking British Royalty Gossip Magazine. You’d find more substance there.
Just don’t be like the person in the video, please? Don’t play dumb. Don’t ignore the fact that Yana is a Shotacon, don’t ignore the fact Sebastian is a hero, don’t ignore the fact that the entirety of the story is based on Sebastian and Ciel’s dynamic.
Because if you do, you are ashamed. You are ashamed of what this story is about. You don’t wanna engage with the text, you want to engage with yourself. You wanna project into Ciel whatever traumas and experiences you have, for the sake a vanity project, where you come out as the morally superior.
You don’t wanna talk about Black Butler, you wanna talk about how good YOU are. How you “don’t sin” by watching it “without all the gross unholy stuff”.
Which is the exact opposite of what BB is about.
So, if you don’t want to, save us all the humiliation fetish and leave.
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isalisewrites · 30 days
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A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part One
Welcome to my new series, where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.
And when I say 'poor writer,' I'm talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the plots of the books.
This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.
Disclaimer for all readers: I'm going to sound very confident in my posts. I'm going to be working under the assumption that I'm a better writer than JKR. Because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You're just witnessing two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn't just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.
After years of being beaten down by others, I will no longer tolerate that.
I will be using my writing to compare with hers to make some of my points. Some of what I say in these posts could be considered stylistic choices. However, in my humble opinion, most of this is a difference of skill, which can be learned. Yes, everything I'm going to teach and cover in this series can be learned. There's no 'talent' here. You can learn how to become a better writer right here and now. You only have to understand the craft of writing and sentence structure to better improve your prose and scenes.
I don't have fame and money.
I don't need them to teach you how to write better than JKR.
You're free to disagree with my stances about this and about everything I cover, of course. But if you're a writer, you might gain some insight from this post and I sincerely hope you are enriched by my efforts in this. I spent quite a few hours on this post. Helping others become a better writer than JKR is one of the greatest contributions I can give to society.
Thus, take what resonates and leave what doesn't.
I have stated before: JKR's writing is bloated in the wrong places, underwritten in others, and the prose is poor. These problems show up in all of her HP books.
Buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Let's begin.
Class is in session.
In this post, we're going to dissect a page from HP4.
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There's so much wrong with this page and the three pages of this scene overall. So much to go over. Bullet points I'll cover from this page:
Disconnected Dialogue Lines
The Great Sin of Adverbs
Too much fucking dialogue!
Wrong focus altogether in this scene
Out of POV writing
First point. This is a huge ongoing issue I see in all of the HP books. There are a lot of disconnected dialogue lines, which become confusing over time. This could be an issue of the publisher, but it's still a problem. In the middle of this page, we have:
Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.
Wait, wait, wait. Who said this? Listen, I know. I know it's Sirius. However, this is an improper placement on the page and can become confusing because Harry also goes by he/him pronouns and he's also in this scene. While the dialogue here suggests Sirius is talking, it could easily be misinterpreted if there were other characters or if he said something that Harry could've just as easily said.
To make this dialogue more clear for the reader, it should go as follows:
Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.
Second point. JKR is an adverb sinner, a criminal. Jail. "Do not pass go; do not collect $200." Arrest her for these blatant crimes, please, for the love of god.
Look, I love adverbs. They're great. Don't fucking listen to anyone who outright demonizes them (including your huffy, uppity literature professors). Adverbs are the seasonings of writing. You season your food; you also need to season your writing when the case asks for it.
However...
Adverbs should always be used sparingly when connected to dialogue tags. The setting in this scene is: Harry is in the Gryffindor Common Room at night crouched in front of the fireplace where Sirius is in the fire in a floo call. I read through the whole scene, though I've only shown one page here.
Harry says a line of dialogue 'slowly' three times and Sirius says a line of dialogue 'slowly' two times.
The same adverb 'slowly' is used FIVE FUCKING TIMES IN THREE PAGES.
I want to scream, not gonna lie here. Set this adverb on fire!
What does this adverb do for us in this conversation? What is so important that we have to be told that five lines of dialogue were said slowly? What do they contribute? Spoiler alert: nothing. What are their facial expressions? Harry is 14. He's exhausted since it's well after 1am or so and he's burdened with the new knowledge of dragons for the first task. He's kneeling in front of a very hot fireplace. There's fire fumes and smoke, potentially. Is he fidgeting? Is he yawning? Rubbing his eyes? Bouncing a leg? Is he picking at the carpet or rug?
Harry is a tired, burdened child.
Show me this!
Now I'm not saying that you can't use adverbs in your dialogue tags. There's a huge difference between "he said softly" and "he whispered." It's about balancing the moment when an adverb says just enough versus an adverb replacing well needed scene enrichment. Let's compare this with a section from my HP time travel fanfiction, Terrible, But Great, Chapter Thirty.
Dumbledore nodded at Monty, pocketing his wand. “Mr. Potter.” “Lo, Professor,” said Monty, pout gone, but still a watchful light in his gaze. “Is there a problem?” asked Dumbledore in a mild tone. Ice slipped in between Tom’s ribs, piercing his flesh. Monty tilted his head. “No, sir.” Oh, but Tom knew better. He could see through that innocent facade. The man could’ve been a Slytherin for how much he was cataloguing every little detail, from Tom’s appearance, to the content of the selected books, and to the supplies of ink, quill, and parchment scattered on the surface of the table. Tom masked the raw, whirling feelings in his chest with a well practiced blank, emotionless expression. He willed himself to hide.  “Nothing at all, sir,” said Tom lightly. “Young Mr. Potter was regaling me about his friendship with Miss Malfoy.” Monty glanced at Tom, brows furrowing. Those blue eyes were piercing, filled with suspicion. “Was he now?” Dumbledore said; though his tone was still without direct accusation, Tom could hear the hint of it. “Then, may I ask, why a silencing charm was necessary for such a benign conversation?” Tom wet his lips. His throat was dry. “I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library.” “I am awfully loud,” said Monty with a sage nod. “Ah. A noble intent. However, it is not an appropriate use of magic in the library,” said Dumbledore, his gaze firm as it bore down on Tom. “Ten points from Slytherin. I think it’d be wise to take your studies to your common room, Mr. Riddle.” “Yes, sir,” whispered Tom.
I only used "said Tom lightly" once in this section to show Tom attempting to be unaffected by Dumbledore's interference. I did not dialogue dump information in giant chunks. I did utilized actions tags versus adverbs, like Monty tilting his head or Tom licking his lips. I suspect that if JKR had written this scene, she'd have used lines like:
"No, sir," said Monty curiously.
or
"I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library," said Tom nervously.
The adverbs that JKR's uses add nothing to her scenes. They're just thrown into them without a thought. Did she even reread this scene after she wrote it? I cringe in agony if I use an uncommon word more than three or four times in an entire 4,000 to 7,000 word chapter, let alone the same adverb five times in three pages. Good grief.
There are two other adverbs used in this page, hastily and bitterly. Hastily does nothing for the scene and is connected to another issue, but I'll go over that in the end. However, bitterly is one of the adverbs I'd keep. It gives us a glimpse into Harry's feelings here. We need more of this, but we got nothing.
Thus, the overuse of adverbs in JKR's dialogue detracts and steals so much from the scene.
Third point: there's too much dialogue and no description whatsoever. Again, the adverbs are a pathetic attempt to give us something, but they're thrown in there without a damn forethought. We're missing the crackle of the fire and the smell of it. We're missing Sirius' facial expressions. We're missing Harry moving around on the floor, fidgeting, yawning, rubbing his eyes, feeling the heat of the fire, bouncing his legs, picking at the rug, something, anything, etc.
The dialogue is bloated with a terribly boring conversation. It's just endless dialogue with nothing else. No, it's awful. Welcome to the fourth bullet point. This scene focuses on the entirely wrong point. This scene is 100% a plot device and it's terribly done as well. It's three pages about Karkaroff being a Death Eater--oh no he might be trying to kill you, Harry, aaaaaa--and something about Bertha Jorkins being near Voldemort's last location. Meh. Who cares. Somebody has been trying to kill Harry in every book thus far. This isn't a new development, sweetie.
We been done know this, okay? Come on.
This is a stilted, unnatural conversation between Harry and Sirius. It's not realistic. It's not normal. Telling Harry about the Karkaroff's past is boring and does nothing for him. One line, maybe two, for Sirius to say, "Hey, keep an eye out for Karkaroff. He's an old Death Eater." Done. End of Karkaroff information. And cut Bertha Jorkins out altogether. I'm sorry, but why the hell are we talking about a dead woman to a 14 year old kid whose biggest problem at the moment is dealing with a jealous friend, school ostracization, and a giant fire breathing lizard???
These points are important to the plot, but they're not important to Harry.
The plot isn't important. No, it's not.
Harry is the POV character.
Harry is the single most important aspect in every scene and should be treated as such.
The plot should weave around Harry, slowly revealing itself to both Harry and the reader. Harry should not be the weaver of the plot. He should not be used in plot devices.
Do you know what part of the conversation was summarized in the prose between Harry and Sirius in a single paragraph versus the three pages about Karkaroff?
Harry talking about how no one believes him about not putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. About the school hating him. About Ron, about his betrayal and his jealousy. About Rita Skeeter. About seeing the dragons as the first task. These are all important to Harry. These all are causing pain to Harry's heart right now. Somebody give this child a hug, please.
We missed out on exploring Harry's feelings here. The author skips the MOST important part of the conversation, what could've been a deeply emotional, either positive or negative, conversation between Harry and Sirius.
Oh, this scene could've been so good. It could've been amazing. There are so many paths that could've been explored here, too.
We could've had a callous Sirius, who doesn't notice Harry's state of being, and just goes on and on about nothing of importance where Harry clams up. Or we've could've had a comforting Sirius, who attempts to give Harry some actual advice about his friendship with Ron. We could've seen Harry opening up in his body language, connecting with this parental figure in his life. We could've heard a story of Sirius' time as a kid at school with Harry's father and the marauders.
We were robbed of an important moment between Harry and Sirius.
Instead, the author puts the focus on the red herring 'foreshadowing' of Karkaroff. What a waste. She's trying to put suspicion on him, rather than Moody/Barty Crouch Jr., the real Death Eater in disguise. Again, who cares. It's not about them. It's about Harry and how his experiences are affecting him. It's about how he reacts to them.
This scene is a waste of time and paper. It's empty of emotion and movement/flow. It's just there for a set up and it's glaringly obvious during a second read of the book.
When I say, "The writing is bloated and underwritten at the same time." this is what I mean. We're focusing on the wrong things here.
Fifth point. JKR breaks the POV character with the following line:
"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but...
Harry is the POV character. Sirius 'seeing Harry about to speak' should NOT be occurring in the prose whatsoever. To fix this with the bare minimum of effort for this poorly written dialogue line:
"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts--" Harry opened his mouth to interject, but Sirius said hastily, "Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm, but..."
I wouldn't write these lines like this, by the way. I just don't want to rewrite this. It's a poor paragraph overall, but this is an example of returning the POV back to Harry. Sirius isn't 'seeing' anything anymore. Harry is doing an action and Sirius reacts to his action.
Breaking POV is a rule that can be occasionally broken, but should be done so with intent and purpose. I'm pretty confident when I say that JKR probably had no idea that this was a mistake on her part in the prose.
All right then.
We have come to an end of Part One in this series. We have dissected a single page and a single scene in JKR's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The page in question is 333 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.
More to follow because I have lots of pages to go over. This will definitely be series, ah dear.
And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.
Until next time.
Isa
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marasvenus · 7 months
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How An Author Would Describe You & Your Person ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
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Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.
Book a reading with me here!
Pile 1 ࿐
This is actually a very cute energy 🥹. If you were in a book, I think the book itself would be about your child/children but you and your person would play such a huge part in it.
An author would describe the two of you as a couple that had been through so much but came out of all of it stronger than ever. Maybe the two of you got together very young and struggled through some of the most transformative years of your life together, loving each other through a million different stages as you worked to find yourselves and each other. An author would write a lot about the bond the two of you share, the way it’s almost like you can read each others minds and understand each other on a level that is rare and beautiful. An author might write about financial struggles or loss that you may have faced together early in your relationship and how those struggles shaped each of you and your relationship as a whole for the better. There’s a strength and stability in your relationship because you survived your lowest points together and loved each other through your worst moments so you could become your best selves together.
Because this books seems to be from the POV of your child, it seems as though your relationship and the strength/stability of it would be referenced a lot in this book. You and your partner would be written in as voices of wisdom and words of advice when it was needed, helping guide the story in the right direction and give the reader hope and a sense of peace. I heard “the book wouldn’t feel whole without you” for some readers, you’d make the book really worth reading.
Pile 2 ࿐
An author would describe this love as a beautiful, all encompassing kind of love. Possibly a first love, the kind of love that you only feel once. There’s a rush of so much emotion and excitement but also fear of the unknown. This love is about embracing the uncertain and opening yourself up to another person in a way you haven’t opened up to someone before. Laying all your cards out on the table and hoping the other person is prepared to do the same. This love would be described as watching curiosity and infatuation bloom into love and admiration for someone that you’ll never get tired of getting to know. It’s about taking someone in for all that they are, mind, body, and soul.
This love would be described one of the most beautiful things that we get to experience as humans and part of what makes life so worth living, written as every beautiful emotion that makes all pain and suffering that we face at some point so worth it. I think you would be the author of the book this love is written in, writing from a place of wisdom and looking back on the past and everything that made you the person you become to be, writing about all the moments in your life that shaped you as a human and shaped you for better or for worse.
Pile 3 ࿐
This love is a love you haven’t found yet. Some of you may be going through heartbreak and I think this reading is meant as a beacon of hope, your guides reminded you that there is better for you out there and it will come when you least expect it. I heard “don’t hold on so tightly to something that no longer serves you”
This love would he written as devotion and certainty from the point of first eye contact. A love that never weavers and doesn’t leave room for any doubt. A love that you are deserving of. This love is a love worth fighting for. This is something you’ve dreamed about since you were a child, to finally receive everything you’ve been giving for so many years. It would be written as kind, gentle, forgiving, safe. This love is pure happiness and bliss and you will never be left doubting it or wishing for more.
This book would be a fantasy or fairytale book. Filled with beautiful scenery. You and your person would be apart of some sort of series of books, a couple that readers root for and want to see succeed. The book would provide readers with the same sense of comfort and safety that you and your person provide each other with. Stories of your love would give readers hope for themselves and their future.
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nicoline1998enilocin · 2 months
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Red and Gold
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PAIRING || Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader
WORDCOUNT || 4.1K
SUMMARY || Tony is bringing you along to a charity event, but this time, you decide to surprise him with your outfit. The moment he finds out you're wearing his colors, he has to restrain himself from tearing it off you and having his way with you right then and there.
RATING || Explicit (E)
TAGS || Sugar Daddy AU. Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark. Sugar Baby!Reader. Heaps and heaps of tooth-rotting fluff.
WARNINGS || Unspecified age gap. Use of nicknames (Sugar). Use of Y/N. Mutual pining. Idiots in love. Sexual tension. Explicit sexual content. Feral Tony Stark. Referenced heartbreak.
SMUT || Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Begging. Praise. Degradation. Hair pulling. Oral (F receiving). Beard burn. Spanking. Semi-public sex. Clothed sex. Rough sex. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Cream pie. Aftercare.
A/N || The idea for this one-shot has been living rent-free in my head, and I am happy to say that with the help of @ccbsrmsf1, this story has finally come to life! This is proofread by the lovely @ccbsrmsf1 as well, for which I'm forever grateful. Thank you for everything you do for me; I love you! 💙
A/N 2.0 || I used writing prompt #2422 from @promptsforthestrugglingauthor while writing this story. From the moment I saw it months ago, I knew I had to use it in a story, and I'm happy to say I finally found the perfect one to incorporate it into! 💙
EVENTS Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Book night || "Look At Me." Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Book night || Sexual Tension Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Wild || Love Confession Masterlist || @mcukinkbingo || Having sex while clothed
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Banners: @nicoline1998enilocin || Divider: @rookthornesartistry || Photo: @ccbsrmsf1
Main Masterlist || Tony Stark Masterlist || AU Masterlist
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Sugar's POV
It's a beautiful day today, and you're sitting outside the coffee shop on your college campus, a hot cup of coffee and a pastry on the table, along with your laptop. On the screen is the face of someone you haven't seen in almost a month but who you miss more than anyone: Tony Stark.
He's seated in his office, his phone propped up as he eats his lunch while talking to you - a habit you two have subconsciously slipped into a few months ago. Seeing how your lunchtimes overlap most of the time, you spend 30 minutes to an hour keeping each other up to date on everything, and today, the topic of conversation is tonight's charity event you're both attending.
"Why won't you hint at your outfit, Sugar? I've already shown you mine, so it's only fair you show me yours," he tries again with a soft smile, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach go wild as you look at him.
"Because, Tony, it's a surprise. I've told you that before, and I'll tell you again now. I want to surprise you tonight because we haven't seen each other outside of FaceTime in a while. And I may have gotten something special that I'd like to hide from you," you say as you wiggle your brows, and Tony's cheeks flush at your teasing.
"Not fair," Tony pouts before taking another bite of his lunch, making you laugh.
"Life's not always fair, sorry," you respond, sipping your coffee as your eyes slip shut. The liquid warms you from the inside out, spreading a content smile.
"Are you sure you won't be able to drive to the event together, Sugar?" Tony tries one last time, and you shake your head. Between classes until 7, getting ready for the event, and meeting Tony beforehand, there won't be enough time to join him, so you will have to meet him on the red carpet.
"I'm sure, Tony. I wish I could, but unless you want me to wear my casual outfit, I prefer to go home first and meet you on the red carpet instead. But I promise you I'll make it worth your while later tonight," you say with a wink, and Tony almost chokes on his food as he realizes what you're referencing.
Just as he's about to respond, a notification on your screen lets you know it's time to head to your next class. A sad feeling settles in your chest as you say goodbye to Tony, whose face shows a hint of disappointment that you must go.
"I can't wait to see you tonight, Sugar. I'm looking forward to seeing what you have in store for me," he says before you both say your last goodbyes and you head to class.
Luckily, the remaining classes seem to fly by, and once it's finally time to go home, you can feel the butterflies in your stomach go wild at the thought of seeing Tony again in an hour or two. Your dress and accessories have been picked out and laid on your bed in preparation, and your hair has been washed this morning to save time.
The moment you step into your apartment, you're running from one place to another to get ready as quickly as possible while eating some leftover pasta salad you made for dinner last night. Your hair is straightened before being put into a ponytail, a few pieces left out to frame your face, and you opt for a red and gold makeup look to finish your look.
Lastly, it's time for your dress: a deep-red off-shoulder gown that reaches down to the floor and has a split on your right side that reaches mid-thigh to show off your leg. Combined with gold jewelry, high heels, and a matching gold bag, you're ready to go on time.
After one last look in the mirror, you hear a car honking outside - letting you know that the car Tony has sent to pick you up has arrived.
"Good evening, Ms. Y/L/N," Happy says with a nod, and you smile at him as you greet him.
"Good evening, Happy. Thank you for picking me up," you tell him before getting in the back of the large car, careful not to bang your head or trip on anything. The second you're seated, you let out a soft sigh, and your heart hammers against your ribcage, trying to escape as the realization sinks in that you're almost reunited with Tony.
But most of all, you're curious to see his reaction because you're wearing red and gold—his colors.
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Tony's POV
It's been a long day already for Tony, filled with long meetings, and it's about to become even longer now that he's at the charity event. Pepper has also been asking him countless questions today, and all he wants now is to see you again; he wants a piece of his sweet, beautiful Sugar. At this point, knowing that he'll be reunited with you soon is the only thing that keeps him from walking out of here with zero fucks to give.
He has already passed countless photographers and is now being interviewed. However, he's sure that his answers are barely usable, now that you have completely taken over his thoughts. His mind is miles away from the moment at hand, after all.
Just when the interviewer is about to ask the next question, Happy pulls up in the car he sent to pick you up, and it's all Tony can focus on now. Time seems to have slowed as the door swings open in slow motion, and each of your legs emerges from the large, black vehicle.
First, he sees your golden shoes complementing your skin tone beautifully, and then he sees the bottom of your red, floor-length gown. His heart is hammering against his chest as he's holding his breath in anticipation of the rest of you—which will be gorgeous, without a shadow of a doubt.
Happy extends his hand, and you grab it to get up carefully. Tony sees the dark red nails that match your dress perfectly, and his mind instantly wanders to how they will feel as they scratch his back later, feeling himself chub up in his bright white pants.
Every last drop of blood officially rushes south as you step out of the car and into the spotlight. After thanking Happy for the ride, you face the red carpet with a bright, wide smile on your lips as you spot Tony, and you wave shyly at him before being led to the giant wall of photographers.
Men and women shout your name left, right, and center while Tony can do nothing else but stare at you in absolute awe. The woman interviewing Tony has given up and moved on to someone else, all while he looks like he's nailed to the floor, his jaw slightly slack at the sight of you.
The dress hugs your curves in the best way possible, and Tony's heart beats faster than ever as he looks at you, enjoying yourself on the red carpet. You have joined him enough times, and you two have been the headlines of many tabloids since your arrangement started, so everyone is well aware of who you are.
When you extend your hand towards Tony, letting him know you also want some photos together, he immediately rushes over to where you're standing. If he weren't already deeply in love with you before this moment, he definitely would be now, though he wouldn't dare to admit it out loud. He doesn't want to ruin your relationship, after all.
As soon as your hand makes contact with his, you both feel a shock of electricity going through your body. Tony lifts it to his mouth, kissing the tender skin of the back of your hand, causing a deep red blush to spread across your cheeks, but you also feel superb as he does it. He never fails to make you feel like a princess.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you did this just for me," he says as he looks at you with pure love. His glasses frame his face in a way that makes him look even more handsome than usual, and they complement his bright white suit.
"I told you I wanted to surprise you, and I believe it worked," you say as you reposition yourself against his side, the leg that was exposed by the slit of your dress is bent slightly while your hand covers his arc reactor under his shirt, which helps to ground you a little bit as well.
"Let's get a move on, Sugar. I can't wait any longer to be buried deep inside your tight, sweet pussy," Tony whispers in your ear before grabbing your hand and pulling you away. His heart beats faster with every step, and his cock is straining hard against his pants. Seeing you has made him horny, and he is going to make sure he will have his relief - preferably by burying his thick, hard cock deep inside the hot, tight, velvet walls he's missed so much.
He needs you badly, and he needs you now.
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It doesn't take long for Tony to find an empty closet, and without a care in the world, he opens the door before pulling you inside with him and pushing you against it once it's closed. Tony's lips are on yours instantly, and you welcome his tongue immediately, savoring his taste after almost a month of not seeing each other.
The kiss is messy, and it's a combination of tongue and teeth as his fingers glide over your exposed thigh, the other hand pulling your hips against the straining bulge in his pants.
"God, I missed you so fucking much, Sugar. Missed having that perfect little pussy wrapped around my cock, and your lips sucking my soul out through my cock," he pants while he works your panties down your legs, all while your hands are wrapped around his neck, your forehead pressed against his as your breaths are mingling.
"Missed you too, Daddy," you say before capturing his lips to suppress the moan leaving your lips, but he quickly pulls back after hearing you say that.
"What-" is all he can get out before you move your hands from his neck down to his pants, unbuttoning it quickly before pulling out his achingly hard cock. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you look at him with a shimmer of mischief in your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth.
"I need you to fuck me, Daddy, please," you beg softly, and it's exactly what he does. Your dress is quickly pushed up and out of the way so he has the access he needs, and he guides his shaft back and forth through your folds, making you gasp each time it nudges your sensitive clit.
"So fucking wet for me already, huh? Nothing but a dirty, desperate little slut for Daddy to fuck whenever he wants. Letting me fuck you in a closet where everyone can walk in at any moment - I'm sure it makes you fucking drip for me," he says through gritted teeth as he lines up his cock, not pushing in just yet, but letting his hand glide back and forth over his length.
"Y-yes, Daddy! 'M your slut," you tell him in a breathy tone as you look through half-lidded eyes at him, mouth slightly slack as you feel him pumping his cock up and down, your nails digging into his shoulders in anticipation of what's to come.
"If you want to be a good slut for Daddy, you will need to keep quiet for me right now, Sugar," he says, and without any other warning, he shoves his cock in with a single thrust, and his lips instantly crash onto yours to swallow the loud moan that was spilling over.
Tony's thick, strong fingers are digging into your thighs as he thrusts in and out of you at a strong, rapid pace that has your eyes rolling back and your pussy fluttering around his cock, the length of it hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.
Your nails are digging harder into Tony's shoulders, and it only spurs him on as he builds both your highs, your orgasms barreling closer at an alarming pace. Suddenly, Tony's mouth is gone from yours, and he carefully grabs your jaw with his right hand, his left one holding you still.
"Look at me, Sugar, look at me when you cum on my cock. Fuck, need you to cum on my cock like the good slut you are for Daddy," he groans, and you nod as soon as your eyes find his intense gaze, the usual dark brown entirely replaced by the black of his pupils.
"Cream my fucking cock, Sugar, and I'll fuck you so full of my cum it'll leak out of you for the rest of the fucking evening, dripping down these delicious thighs of yours before I fuck it right back into this tight, warm pussy when we're in my penthouse," he pants. Still, all you can do is whimper softly as you're trying not to scream as he repeatedly hits your G-spot.
The moment your orgasm washes over you, your nails are digging hard into Tony's shoulders, and his mouth is immediately back on yours as he fucks you through it, your legs trembling heavily in the process. He whispers soft praise as you come down from your high, and it's only when he pulls out that you notice he has cum, too, his seed nestled deep inside you.
"Such a good girl for Daddy; I missed you so much," he whispers as he peppers your face with soft, gentle kisses, and you smile shyly up at him. You always feel extra vulnerable after you've had an orgasm, but he has learned how to handle that, making sure you won't crash after your high.
"M such a lucky man to have you by my side, Sugar," he whispers before placing a kiss on your forehead, followed by one on the tip of your nose, and he finishes with a last peck on your lips when you've found your footing again, and you're steady on your feet.
"Thank you, Tony," you whisper, and he smiles. Just before you two leave the closet, Tony picks up your panties from the floor and tucks them in the pocket of his pants as a little souvenir to remember what you two just did.
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Surprisingly, the charity event went by quickly, but you and Tony decided not to stay for the afterparty this time. You two have been eyeing and teasing each other ever since you emerged from the closet, wanting nothing more than to make each other fall apart a couple more times before falling asleep in each other's arms.
Happy has picked both of you up, and there's a comfortable silence in the car as Tony's hand draws abstract figures on your thigh. You look out the window at the New York City skyline. It has always been one of your favorite cities, and when you decided to study here, you couldn't wait to explore it all.
Somewhere along the way, you met Tony, and now you're seated in the back of a large SUV on your way to his penthouse, where you two will undoubtedly spend the entire night pulling orgasm after orgasm out of each other.
The moments between Happy dropping both of you off and the elevator ride to his penthouse are a blur. The only thing you remember is Tony kissing you fiercely in the elevator, hands wandering everywhere until you had to let go, and he would lead you to his large bedroom.
Now, you're standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows. As you look over the Manhattan skyline, Tony stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders. Your heels have already been kicked off, making him considerably taller than you are.
"I can't believe you had the nerve to show up looking like this, Sugar. Wearing my colors was such a bold move, and I can't say anything other than that I'm impressed," Tony tells you as you meet his gaze in the window.
"You must bring it out in me, Tony. Because I know for sure I would never have been able to do something so bold without you by my side," you answer as you take the last step back until your back is against his chest. Your eyes flutter shut as his arms wrap around you, and you hold his forearms as you stand there for a moment, basking in the moment's intimacy.
"As much as I love seeing you in that dress, I know for sure it'll look even better when it's on the floor," he tells you, making you chuckle as you let go of his arms, and he pulls the zipper on your side down. The fabric falls to the floor in one flowy movement, leaving you entirely bare for him.
"Perfect," he whispers, his nose nuzzling your neck while his hands glide down your sides until they land on your hips, where he makes a move to turn you around as he sinks to his knees. His fingers glide over the soft skin on your thighs and calves, before grabbing one of them and hooking them over his shoulder, opening you up beautifully for him.
Your glistening, puffy folds are on display as Tony licks his lips in anticipation, and he groans softly when you let your fingers glide into his hair, pulling softly to get him to the place where you need him most. Without a second thought, he flattens his tongue as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, and you throw your head back as he teases your sensitive nub a bit with the tip of his tongue.
"D-Daddy," you moan as your hips roll against his face, the friction causing a jolt of pleasure to go through your entire body. Tony's hands are holding you up firmly, his fingers pushing into the flesh of your hips to steady you.
With expert precision and the enthusiasm of a puppy, he eats you out like a starved man, and before you know it, you're tugging on his hair from root to tip to pull him closer, his facial hair giving you the best case of beard burn you've ever had as he works you through a mind-bending orgasm.
Every sound coming from your body is almost inhuman as the pleasure takes over your body, and you're trembling in Tony's hold, but you're not scared to let go. You trust him completely to take care of you, and you know he will do everything in his power to ensure you're safe, especially during moments like these.
"Tastes like heaven, Sugar, sweetest pussy I've ever tasted in my life," he rasps as he carefully guides your foot back on the floor before pulling you against his chest and kissing you softly, allowing you to taste yourself and the faint taste of his cum on his tongue. You quickly get lost in him as he touches you, and he makes you feel like you're floating right now.
"'s your turn now, Daddy," you tell him when he pulls away, but he shakes his head with a smile as he stops you. Your brows knit together as your gaze finds his, worry visible in your eyes.
"As much as I would love to have these beautiful, puffy, pink lips wrapped around my cock, I think I'd prefer to stuff you even more with my cum. Now that I've had a taste again, I want to be buried deep inside you, Sugar," he tells you as he cups your cheeks, and you nod in understanding.
"M'kay, but only because you ask so nicely," you tease, making him laugh. You let go of him before walking to the bed, and he lands a slap on your ass as you pass him - making you yelp in surprise.
A few minutes later, he's entirely bare above you, your head on his pillows as you look up at him in anticipation. He has settled between your legs, and his hard cock rests on the crease where your hip meets your thigh.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, enjoying how your cheeks flush at his praise. A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as he lets his thumb glide over your cheek and the line of your jaw, before tipping up your chin to capture your lips in another kiss.
You two may not have revealed your feelings for one another yet, but you're also not afraid to show them off when it's just you two right now, basking in the intimacy of your closeness. So vulnerable and yet so strong at the same time.
Tony's fingers ghost over your body and down to his cock, which he fists a couple of times before lining up with your entrance and pushing in. You're still stretched enough from when he fucked you earlier, making it easier for him to slide in, but despite that, he still takes his time with you.
Soft moans tumble from your lips as he slowly thrusts in, taking his sweet time to fill you up completely. His hands are interlaced with yours above your head, and your noses are practically touching each other as he slides in completely, and your back arches into him as he hits your sweet spot.
"That's it, Sugar, you take me so well," he praises you as you wrap your legs around him, allowing him to fuck you even deeper than before. His hips roll into you at a careful, steady pace as he watches your face for any discomfort - but he doesn't find any.
"So good," you whisper before capturing his lips, and it doesn't take long for both of you to be on the edge of yet another release. Your eyes widen as you feel the band inside your belly on the verge of snapping, and with one last command, you're over the edge.
"Cum for me, Sugar, milk Daddy's cock for all it's worth," he grits out as he nuzzles his face in your neck, and with a loud scream of his name, you fall apart around him, your hips rolling in tandem with his as he releases every last drop of his cum inside you.
After riding out both your orgasms, he carefully pulls out before collapsing beside you and pulling you onto his chest, where you both come down from your highs.
"God, that was amazing, Sugar. But I definitely don't want to wait a month again before seeing you," Tony says with a breathy chuckle, and you nod.
"Me neither," you say sleepily as you listen to the soft hum on the arc reactor in his chest. It doesn't take long for Tony to hear your soft snores, and he pulls the comforter over you both. The cleaning up can wait a little bit.
"I'm not sure I know what love is, but I think this might be it, Sugar," Tony admitted to your sleeping form. "And I know you can't hear me right now, but maybe one of these days, I'll be brave enough to say it when you can," he whispers, the reality of his feelings suddenly hitting him hard.
After that, he got you cleaned up after you had a short nap and something to eat. You two shared more cuddles and soft kisses before going to sleep again, and you felt content in his arms as your arm was draped over his chest.
The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, and you rub your eyes to make sure Tony isn't in there with you. When you've confirmed that he's not there, you sit up, pull the comforter to your chest, and grab your phone to look at the time.
"Good morning, Sugar. I made you breakfast in bed," Tony tells you as he walks in with a tray filled with your favorite fruits, french toast, some yogurt, and two steaming cups of coffee to finish it all off.
"Mornin'," you say as you yawn, the scent of breakfast filling your nose. A smile dances on your lips as you look at everything Tony prepared; your stomach begins to rumble.
"Someone's getting hungry," Tony teases as he sits on the edge of the bed and leans in to kiss your lips softly. You can get used to these mornings, though you shouldn't be getting too comfortable with how things go now. You don't want to get your heart broken again, after all.
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182 notes · View notes
sturniolos-blog · 4 months
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Can u do one similar to “first panic attack” but Matt comes home late and walks in on reader crying herself to sleep because she feels like she’s raising her kids alone and they don’t really argue but she just kinda breaks down and tells him how she feels. And then he comforts her and like flashes to him putting in more effort and being more present for his kids but also as a husband?
(Love ur writing soo much girl!!💋❣️🫵)
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I’m sorry - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot
warnings - swearing, angst, sad sorta, fluff
disclaimer: this will all be third person pov because i think i write better that way but that wont be for all my fics ‼️‼️
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9:36pm
“Goodnight, sweet boy.” Y/n whispered to her 4 year old son, kissing his forehead as he fell asleep in his thomas the choo-choo train bed.
“Night night, mama!” He giggled, pulling the covers up to his chin.
Y/n smiled at her boy before turning on the white noise machine and before leaving the room also turning on the fan, knowing how her song gets hot and sweaty during the night.
She closes the door to her sons room, making her way to her 6 year old daughters room, a bigger smile flashing on her face when she sees her daughter sitting up waiting for her.
Estrella smiled at her mom as Y/n walked into the room.
“Hey, lovey.” Y/n said in a soft tone.
“Hi, mommy.” Ella smiled cheekly, getting under the covers.
“Goodnight, my girl.” Y/n whispered, the same way she had done to her son prior to this, leaning down and kissing her forehead.
Y/n then turned on the fan for her daughter too, her fan was a little older so it rattled with noise, making enough noise to help Ella fall asleep.
“Mommy?” Estrella called out as the room went dark, a little butterfly nightlight that sat on the small girls nightstand being the only thing lighting up the room, but enough to see.
“Yes, honey?” Y/n turned around.
“Can you read me the dinosaur book?” Estrella asked, “Please?” She dragged out the E at the end.
“Okay, sweetheart.” Y/n sighed, giving into her daughter.
Quick Disclaimer pt.2: This book is based on the runaway dinosaur from the flash, i have changed some words and some details from the book from the show, this book is not made my me, only some changes were made‼️enjoy
Y/n walked over to the 6 year olds shelf with a variety of items on it, picking out the hard covered book that had a dinosaur on the cover, ‘The runaway dinosaur.’
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(Italics is the dialogue in the book.)
Estrella clapped her hands together in excitement as Y/n came over and sat on the bed with the girl. Ella immediately snuggling into her mothers side as Y/n started to read.
“The runaway dinosaur..” Y/n started.
There was silence as Y/n flipped to the first page of the picture book.
“Once there was a little dinosaur called a Maiasaur, who lived with her mother.” Y/n read, although Ella has had this story read to her many times, she still pays close attention.
“One day, she told her mother, ‘I wish I were special like the other dinosaurs. If I were a T.Rex, I could chomp with my ferocious teeth!’” Y/n continued, Ella’s eyes focused on the pages as Y/n read.
“‘But if you were a T.Rex,’ said her mother, ‘how would you hug me with your tiny little arms?’” Y/n flipped another page.
“‘I wish I were an Apatosaurus,’ said the little dinosaur, ‘so with my long neck I could see above the treetops.’” Ella clung onto her mothers shirt.
“‘But if you were an Apatosaurus,’ said her mother, ‘how would you hear me in the treetops when I told you I love you?’” Y/n read, her eyes glancing to her daughter that was still wide awake.
Y/n took one deep breath, “‘What makes you so special, little Maiasaur?’ said her mother. ‘Is it your ferocious teeth or long neck or pointy beak?” Y/n shook her head.
“‘What makes you special is out of all the different dinosaurs in the big, wide world, you have the mother who is just right for you, and who will always love you…’” Y/n finished, closing the book.
Ella smiled as Y/n set the book down on her nightstand.
Y/n sighed and started to get up, “Alright-”
“Mommy?” Ella unintentionally interrupted.
“Mhm?” Y/n hummed as she started to tuck the blankets in around her daughter.
“I think the dinosaur book is like us, because you will always love me, and..” Ella trailed off.
Y/n stopped tucking in the blankets to look at her daughter, “And what, baby?” Y/n asked softly.
“And there’s no daddy dinosaur, kind of like right now.” Ella said in a quiet tone.
“Estrella, baby, daddy’s not gone.” Y/n let out a laugh in disbelief.
“But he’s not here.” Ella shrugged, turning on her side.
Y/n stopped for a moment, taking in her daughters words, is that really what she thinks? has matt really not been here that ella feels like she doesn’t have a father? why-
Y/n’s thoughts get interrupted when Ella speaks again, “Well except there’s no Mailo in the book, so it’s kind of different.” The 6 year old points out.
Y/n nods, sniffling for a moment before blinking the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes away. “Time for bed, yeah?”
Estrella nodded, getting comfy one last time. “Night, mommy.”
Y/n forced a smile on her face, “Goodnight, Ella.” She whispered, brushing the hair out of Ella’s face before slowly making her way out of the room.
Y/n walked into her and Matt’s shared room, but now that she thinks about it, it really just feels like hers.
Her eyes glance to the big, empty, bed, the bed looking like it will swallow her whole when she climbs in.
Y/n shakes her head, getting rid of her thoughts as she changes her clothes and into pajamas.
She slowly got into bed, dreading the feeling of the cold sheets without her husband next to her.
And then she slowly, softly, let out a sob.
Tears overwhelmed her, she thought it would stop but it didn’t. The tears kept flowing down her cheeks as she cried into her comforter.
Keeping quiet as she’s afraid to wake her children. The tears soaking her pillow as her head rested on it.
Thoughts ran through her head at rapid speeds but she couldn’t focus on one, the tears that blurred her vision also blurred her line of thought.
The racks of her body and the sobs that escaped her lips went on for about 15 minutes.
Her cries were loud enough for her not to hear the front door open, for her not to hear footsteps come up the stairs, for her not even to hear her bedroom door opening and closing.
Matt made his way in, his calm demeanor he had once plastered on his face now changed to a worried expression, running over to his wife and completely covering her body with his, bringing her to cry in his chest.
She struggled in his grip, not wanting to be held by the person that made her feel like this, the person that was supposed to be a husband to her, the person she vowed her life too, made her feel like this.
She sobbed harder, her tears running through his shirt, making dark wet spots on the white cloth.
“Y/n, holy shit, please- s-stop, Y/n, talk to me.” Matt stuttered out, his wife gripping onto him like he’d disappear once again if she had let go.
Y/n shook her head, knowing what she wants to say but not being able to, her cries were in control, her overthinking was in control, everything else but herself was in control, even Matt.
Matt held her close, repeatedly whispering sweet nothings into her ear as he stroked her hair, a gesture he remembered she loved having done to her.
Her sobs soon turned into, heavy breathing and a cry every so often, her heavy breathing then turned into sniffles, and her sniffles soon turned into silence.
The air was stuck. Every breath she took felt like it was swallowing her.
“Y-you good? What happened?” Matt asked, not wanting to make her break again but also wanting to know what caused her to fall apart.
Y/n took a deep breath and sat up, “I just-” She cut herself off, taking a deep breath as she sat against the headboard next to Matt.
Matt shook his head, “Don’t say it was nothing, Y/n. It obviously wasn’t nothing. You can always-”
“It was you!” She yelled loudly, immediately clearing her throat and lowering her voice into a whisper shout. “It was you.”
Matt went to speak but Y/n beat him to it, “You’re not here anymore, Matt! You leave at seven in the morning and don’t come back ‘till twelve or so. Your children barely see you anymore,” Y/n points to herself, “I barely see you anymore.”
Matt sits there for a moment, “I-i don’t know what to say..” His voice was quiet and small.
Y/n sighed, her sadness was gone, all she felt was anger. “Well your daughter did! She told me how it feels like you’re not here anymore when we were reading ‘The runaway dinosaur.’ And you know what? I realized she was right.” Y/n said.
“I g-got her that book.” Matt said, sadness now filling his body like it had done to Y/n.
“Yeah and that’s probably the best thing you’ve done for a father. I mean, she starred in a play last week! Did you know that?” Y/n asked him.
Matts eyes widened slightly before he shook his head.
“Yeah. She told you, but you were on the phone and said you were running late for work.” Y/n scoffed. “And Mailo made a scene in pre-school when someone asked where his dad was because they never see him drop him off.” Y/n explained. “And i thought that was just Mailo getting upset, but no. He was upset because he probably feels like he doesn’t have a father either. Just like Ella.” Y/n ranted.
“I-i’m sorry. Please, forgive me. I’m so sorry. I don’t mean too- i just, my brothers, and fans, i just- i don’t know i just try to handle it but it seems like im making it worse.” Matt pleaded, tears brimming his eyes as his voice cracks.
Y/n sighed and shook her head. “I just need you, Matt. I miss you. I feel like i don’t have a husband, and my kids don’t have a father, you’re here but you’re not. And i need you to be here, i need you.” Y/n finished.
Matt nodded, grabbing her face in his hands, “I will be here, i promise. Let me make it up to you. Okay? Please.” He begged.
Y/n looked her husband in the eyes and nodded, “Okay..” She whispered.
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8:44am (2 weeks later)
Y/n yawned as she woke up her eyes widening as she checked the time, looking to her left and seeing no one there. She sighed as she should of expected it, it has been good for the last two weeks, but now, as y/n thinks, everything’s back to how it was without Matt.
She rushed out of bed, quickly throwing some jeans and a sweatshirt on, throwing her hair into a bun before running out of her room and into Ella’s,
“Ella! baby! come-” She cut herself off as she looked at the empty made bed.
She scratches her head as she closed the door to Ella’s room, making her way to Mailo’s, opening the door to see his bed was also empty and made.
“What the hell?” She muttered to herself before hearing loud laughs from downstairs.
No way, she thought, starting to walk downstairs.
She walked downstairs and into the kitchen, music was playing from Matt’s phone as he had a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, holding a wooden kitchen spoon as he had pancake batter smudged on his cheek.
Now taking a look, Y/n saw pancake batter scattered over the counters and some on the floor.
“Mommy!” Ella yelled, catching Y/n’s attention as she looked over, Ella and Mailo sat at the table, dressed with their hair done, eating pancakes with orange juice.
Ellas hair was in a slicked back pony tail and Mailo’s was combed nicely.
“Hi guys..” Y/n furrowed her brows. “What is going on?” Y/n walked closer to Matt as she pointed around the kitchen.
“I got them ready and made breakfast.” Matt shrugged, a smile on his face as he walked over to Y/n, kissing her lips slowly, but both pulling away once they hear complaints of disgust come from the children.
Matt laughs and rolls his eyes.
Y/n’s hand goes up to Matt’s cheek, swiping the pancake batter and putting it in his face. “And what’s this?” She laughs.
Matts eyes widened, “Yes, i’m so sorry, we got a little messy when we were making the pancakes. But i will clean everything up later..” Matt trails off as he glances at the clock.
“Speaking of, i should probably head out.” Matt mentions.
Y/n smile fades, “Where are you going?” She asked quietly.
“To drop the kids off, i’ll be back to clean everything up, promise.” He smiles, pulling her in one last time for a loving kiss.
Matt stares at her for a moment and lets out a sigh, “Okay, and get ready for a lunch date we have at 12:30.” He told her.
“A what?” Y/n laughed in disbelief.
“You heard me.” He laughed too, “Alright,” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s go, let’s go! All aboard the choo-choo train, don’t miss it!” Matt said as the kids giggled.
“Thomas!” Mailo yelled.
Matt nodded, “Well, let’s go so we don’t miss him!” Matt says in a duh tone as he walked past y/n one last time, kissing her cheeks and grabbing the kids backpacks.
“Bye mommy!”
“Bye mama!” Both Ella and Mailo yelled.
“Bye guys!” Y/n said before the door shut and the house went quiet.
Matt really changed.
He really was sorry.
—————————
so i hope you guys loved this and if you didn’t let me know and i’ll make sure to never mess up again okay love yalll
tag list: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo
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lucid-loves · 4 months
Text
Sweet Tooth ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley One-Shot
As requested by @hellhavevibes ! Thank you so much for the fun request and for being patient while I write it. Happy Valentine's~
Sweet Tooth (One-Shot)
Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, soft!reader, callsign “Glacé”)
Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot
CW: strong language, angst, violence, scars, blood, wounds, killing, fluff, attraction, one-shot, reader POV and Ghost POV, minors DNI, EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, passionate kisses, fingering, hickeys, couch sex, passionate sex, gentleness, compliments, praise, raw sex, unprotected sex (seriously though people, use birth control!)
Let me know if I missed any CWs.
Story Synopsis: You are the newest member of the 141 under the name “Glacé” which the team is skeptical about. While your file says that you are a fantastic marksman and deadly interrogator, they find it hard to believe with how absolutely sweet you are. Ghost especially finds you sweet enough to eat right up but is unsure of how you may perform out in the field. That is until you demonstrate that you are truly a force to be reckoned with during a mission. When that happens, Ghost can’t help but cave into his craving for you.
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The men looked at you, confused expressions on their face as they looked at your smile that radiated nothing but pure joy. They looked at Kate who stood beside you like it was a joke. Normally, they wouldn’t judge a book by its cover. However, you were the furthest thing they imagined when Kate said that their new member was incredibly skilled, a deadly addition to the team. On the outside, you seemed like the sweetest thing to ever walk the earth. Feminine, optimistic, cute. 
You noticed the odd looks that they gave you, yet you still persisted with your grin. When you spoke, your voice came out light like a songbird. “I look forward to working with you gentlemen! I hope that we become great teammates~!
“Kate, could me and Ghost speak to you for a moment.” Price spoke up with a strained smile. Laswell gave a nod and ushered for them to step outside the meeting room for a moment to speak in private. You were left with Gaz and Soap who just awkwardly tried to make small talk with you. 
You weren’t surprised by this turn of events. This was actually expected. You weren’t ignorant about how you appeared to everyone else. It took a long time to prove that you were more than a cute face when you first joined the military. Even longer when you began to climb the ladder to be an exceptional soldier outside of deskwork. You had more than your fair share of discrimination and being underestimated. Now that you were a member of the 141 task force, you were even more determined to prove that you could hold your own.
That didn’t mean that you had to sacrifice your personality though! 
As Ghost and Price talked to Laswell about you, you began to socialize with Gaz and Soap. It began awkwardly with them asking basic things. Where you were from, why you joined the military, all that jazz. However, the longer they talked to you, the more comfortable they got. There was still some doubt about you being cut out for this kind of work, but at least you were very nice. Eventually, you surprised them with a question. “You guys wanna hear some jokes? I got quite a few great ones if I do say so myself!”
Meanwhile, Ghost and Price expressed their concerns, Price being the most vocal about this while Ghost was his right-hand man. “Are you sure about this, Kate? I mean, she doesn’t exactly look like a killer.”
“Glacé has an impressive file that proves that she should be part of a capable team. I know she doesn’t look it, but give her a chance. If she really can’t take the heat, we can reassign her. However, she’s been working really hard to be an important asset. I doubt that she will fail based on her track record. See for yourself.” Kate vouched, handing the captain a manilla folder filled with all of your personal information. 
As Price scanned through it, Ghost looked over his shoulder. His brow rose under his skull mask, almost disbelieving what he read. An impressively high accuracy score in firearms, high test scores in academics, letters of recommendations from many notable soldiers, and a special report on your interrogation capabilities. All of this was in your file along with a picture of you, bright, beaming, and brimming with happiness. 
“You sure you didn’t get a file mixed up with the picture?” Ghost half-joked, holding the picture of you closer to his eyes to examine. You had the warmest gaze he’s ever seen from the photo alone. 
Kate rolled her eyes and faked a laugh as she took back the file. “Very funny. Just get to know her first, okay?” 
Just like that, you were a part of their team. Price and Ghost returned to the meeting room after Kate left, surprised to see Gaz and Soap wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. You just told them a joke that they really weren’t expecting. Price and Ghost cocked a brow, looking between you who giggled along with them, and the two grown men who took to you like a new candy. 
“Oh! You got to hear this one, Lt. You will absolutely love this. Go ahead, Glacé! Tell ‘em!” Soap encouraged, still trying to get his laughter under control. Gaz took a tissue from the box in the middle of the meeting table, wiping his tears through fits of giggles.
With optimism, you turned and looked up at your new captain and lieutenant. “Did you know that protons have mass?”
Price thought about it for a moment before answering. This didn’t really seem like a good setup to a joke. “Yes, I did.”
“That’s a pretty basic fact.” Ghost pointed out, wondering where you were going with this. He didn’t think much of the setup either.
You tilted your head and shrugged, trying to prevent a grin from spreading across your face. It didn’t work as you revealed the punchline. “Oh! I didn’t even know they were Catholic!” 
Price cracked a smile before caving, chuckles erupting from him slowly. It was hard to keep his cool with how silly your joke was and with how his sergeants were cracking up once again. Even Ghost was smirking under that intimidating mask of his, a deep chuckle escaping from him. It was a corny, stupid joke. Yet, it was clever. Dorky. Cute.
This was unexpected of you. Ghost realized that he couldn’t wait for what else you had in store.
~
You spent a lot of time with the boys learning about their personalities and abilities. Soap could be a bit of a goofball, but seriously loyal. Gaz was their youngest member besides you. Though, he wasn’t immature. He was optimistic like you, yet he was able to keep cooler to come off as a capable soldier. Price was hardworking and considerate, always checking in on how well you were adjusting to the team. He genuinely tried to get to know you like you were more than just a sergeant he could order around. He wanted to know you as a potential friend.
Ghost was the toughest nut to crack, but eventually, he seemed to take to you too at the present moment. He just couldn’t resist how sweet you were, always asking if he needed help, always bringing refreshments to the team during deskwork days, always walking around like the world was your oyster. The other men in the 141 saw you as their softest, sweetest teammate as well. Before he knew it, he was always watching you whenever you were in the room or even across base. 
You were talking to some of the new recruits on base who had questions about your progress. While you gave them some advice on how to outlast the worst of being a newbie, you spotted Ghost from a distance. With no shyness, you raised your hand up high and waved. “Hi, Ghost!”
Saying a goodbye to the newbies, you sprinted over to where he was, finding yourself to be quite attracted to him naturally. You were curious about him. The mask made him mysterious, his uniform made him intimidating. Yet, he shared some of his own jokes with you, revealed his favorite drink, and helped you around base with things you were a little too short or small for. Ghost had rough edges, but you somehow knew that he was secretly a big softie.
Besides that, opposites did seem to attract. Standing next to him, you looked like the sweetest thing alive while he seemed like the deadliest thing alive. It was an odd pairing from the outside. You paid it no mind, though. All you cared about was earning his approval.
“How are you doing, Glacé? Making new friends?” He inquired as you got closer, looking at the group that you were just talking to from afar. There were a couple of guys in the group whose eyes still lingered on you despite walking away. It stirred something in him, yet he didn’t know what.
“I think so? I mean, they just kinda came up to me and asked about my accomplishments and advice. I guess they saw a few records around base with my name. I like talking to new people though, so I didn’t mind! It made me feel a bit like a celebrity which is fun!” You chipperly answered, your expression bright like the sun. 
Ghost looked down at you, his heart not being able to soften up at your softness. “Well, I’m glad you’re having fun. I was on my way to the mess hall for some tea.”
“Can I come with? I’ve been craving a mug of hot cocoa lately. Something sweet, you know?” You asked with a grin that he couldn’t possibly say no to. 
“Fine, I wouldn’t mind the company.”
You walked by Ghost’s side to the mess hall, the space relatively clear since it was later in the afternoon. Like an energetic shooting star, you rushed to the open kitchenette where soldiers could help themselves to making coffee, tea, and other simple drinks. Opening the cabinet, you spotted your favorite mug on the top shelf. A pink one with cute little strawberries on it. Someone had moved it to the top shelf to make room for other mugs on the lower shelf. 
Just as you were about to jump up and get it, you felt Ghost start to press into you from behind. His firm, broad torso radiated heat against you, causing you to form a wicked blush. Carefully, he brought your mug down and held it in front of you to take. 
Looking down at your blushing cheeks, he realized what he had done to you. For the first time, you seemed bashful and his heart melted. Yours did too from the gesture, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes met his blue ones. Nonetheless, you stayed openly polite. “Thank you! It isn’t easy being shorter than most around here. When I put it away, I’ll make sure to put it on the bottom shelf so I can reach it next time. I’ll make your tea for you as a token of my gratitude~”
“You don’t have to do that, Glacé. It was nothing really.” He brushed off, feeling just a tad bit shy himself as his heart quickened for you.
You waved him off. “Nonsense! Here, I’ll make your tea exactly how you like it! Which one is your mug?”
Ghost moved to open the small cabinet that was over the fridge, taking out a simple, black mug with a skull on it. Of course. What else did you expect? 
Taking his mug with a little laugh at your internal thoughts, you began to fix him his tea, his eyes watching you work. You filled an electric kettle with water and set it to boil before going to the pantry to get tea and cocoa. From the bottom cupboard, you took out a small pot followed by taking out some milk from the fridge. The kitchenette had a small hotplate to which you used to start heating up your milk. 
Ghost raised a brow at the amount of effort you were putting in. Most people sucked it up and used hot water for their instant hot chocolate. 
When the kettle boiled until the button clicked, signaling that it was done, you prepared the mugs. Using Ghost’s favorite black tea, you poured the water into his mug, the color quickly turning into a dark brown. When the milk came to a simmer, you cut the heat and poured it into your own mug, the color turning into a much softer shade of brown. With the leftover milk, you lightened Ghost’s tea to the perfect shade that he liked. A small pinch of sugar later and his tea was made to perfection. 
You handed him the mug, the liquid still swirling in a whirlpool from you recently stirring it. He couldn’t deny it, the look of it was exactly how he liked it. Lifting his mask halfway up his face to drink, it tasted like it too. How did you know he liked his tea like this?
He stood for a moment, watching you put the finishing touches on the drink. You pulled some whipped cream from the fridge, topping your cocoa with a beautiful, white swirl of sweetness. While you put the box of tea and cocoa back into the cupboard, you got yourself a jumbo marshmallow and gingerly set it on top of the cream. 
With an excited little giggle, you turned around and headed to a small table to rest, Ghost following right behind you. As soon as you sat down, sitting across from each other, Ghost had to pull his mask back down to hide his smile. Looking at your pink strawberry mug, the marshmallow and whipped cream topping your cocoa, and you right behind it with a satisfied expression made you look absolutely adorable. How could such a sweet thing like you be a killer?
You took a sip of your hot chocolate, whipped cream getting on your cute nose and the corners of your small mouth. Without thinking, Ghost took his thumb and gently wiped your face, getting the whipped cream off for you. You blinked at him in surprise as he licked it off his thumb, the light sweetness melting on his taste buds. 
Now, your cheeks were turning bright red like the painted strawberries on your mug, stomach filling with millions of butterflies that danced to the beat of your rapid heart. Did Ghost really just do that? Were you hallucinating? No, he definitely just did that. The scene kept replaying over and over in your head. He one hundred percent just did that. 
Frozen in your blush, Ghost looked at you, blinking himself as he processed what he just did so naturally. Behind the mask, his own face felt warm. He cleared his throat, lifted his mask to reveal his mouth, and hid it behind his mug of tea. “You had a little something on your face.”
“Ah, aha. . . I see. Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed, your heart still going a million miles per hour. Lifting your mug to your own lips, you looked at Ghost just above the mountain of sugar. For a moment, you wished that he kissed the cream directly off your face.
His military beige shirt clung tightly to his muscles, revealing years of training to be strong. Battle scars ran along his arms, some camouflage by his black and white forearm tattoo sleeve. He was built strong, tall, powerful. Delicious in his own way. You couldn’t help but stare at such a handsome, capable man. Even with the skull balaclava. 
When his eyes met yours again, you averted your gaze, thoughts running rampant. Oh boy, you think you were starting to fall for your lieutenant. 
Silently, you enjoyed your drinks, stealing glances at each other every now and then. When your mug was completely empty, you motioned to go clean it up. However, Ghost put his hand on top of the brim, making it stay on the table. “It’s okay. I will clean it up. Least I can do for making our drinks.”
A warm smile graced your features. “Thanks, Ghost. I appreciate it.”
Taking a glance at your watch, you gasped. “Ah, I’m late to my workout! I gotta get going before I lose my reserved room! I’ll see you later! Thanks for cleaning up!”
He waved as you hurried out of the hall to head to your workout. A soldier needed to stay in tip-top shape at all times, so he wasn’t particularly sour at your departure. Though, your sudden absence did make him feel a bit lonely. 
However, that feeling quickly disappeared when his eyes wandered around the mess only to see his teammates across the room. They were in the middle of playing cards with their own drinks, their attention completely on everything that went down between the two of you. Even the part where he ate the leftover whipped cream from your face. Their expressions were mixed between shock and amusement. 
Ghost shook his head, a signal for them to not say a fucking word about it to him or you. Downing the last of his tea, he grabbed the mugs to wash. After washing them, he paused for a moment, looking at your cute cup. Then, he put it back on the top shelf of the cupboard before closing the doors. 
~
For the first time, the 141 was assigned their first mission that included you. During the briefing, you listened carefully, taking in every single detail like it was life or death. The men listened carefully as well, yet their minds did wander towards how you would perform in the field. They’ve never seen anything but pure sweetness from you. Price had deep conversations with you like you were a close friend. Soap finally had someone that would participate in car karaoke with all his favorite songs with him. Gaz enjoyed watching shows with you that no one else seemed interested in. 
It was Ghost that was having the toughest time compared to everyone else concerning you. You two had been sharing drinks in the mess hall a few times a week to spend time together. Talking, playing cards, even just reading. You always had your hot cocoa, he always had his tea. You always used your pink strawberry mug, he always used his black skull mug. You always had your mug on the top shelf, he always got it for you while pretending that he had no idea who kept moving your mug back up there. 
Could you really take a life?
The answer was yes, you could. And you planned to when you were given your target, a dangerous terrorist that had plans to attack a small city in South America with the intent to take over. A man that was desperate to be a dictator to the point where he was killing innocent people. A man that wouldn’t stop at just taking over his city. Until he took over the whole country and more, he would never stop. 
Someone like that had to be taken down. You were happy to be part of the team to do it.
Just before you board the plane to take the team to their destination, Ghost pulled you to the side for a moment for a pep-talk. “Glacé, this is your first mission with us. Are you nervous at all?”
You shook your head, standing at full attention. “Not at all, lieutenant! This is what I trained for. You can count on me to do what needs to be done.”
He stared at you skeptically, worry still invading him through knots in his stomach. “If anything happens, let us know immediately. We’ll help you out as much as we can. We’ll protect you.”
“I appreciate it, Ghost. I’ll protect all of you as well.” You promised before you finally got on the plane. Following close behind you, Ghost boarded as well. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared for you. He considered you a close friend at this point. Maybe even more. You were just so soft, so sweet that he couldn’t imagine you being anything other than a beautiful soul that he had to protect. He didn’t want to lose you. Not so soon.
Little did he know that you were more than ready for this. Excited even! This was your chance to really prove yourself. To show everyone in your team that you could step up to the plate. You loved spending time with everyone, especially with Ghost as your feelings for him grew. However, they all still looked at you like you were just a sweet girl. You needed them to start looking at you like a capable member of their team. Like a deadly weapon when it came down to it. 
~
You were dropped down into a jungle, the weather hot, sticky, and humid. Sweat was already clinging to your skins, the cover of your armor not helping beat the heat. Quietly, the team traversed the jungle, trying to find the compound belonging to the terrorist organization. They weren’t given pictures or precise coordinates, just general coordinates since the compound was well hidden among the jungle. 
In the cover of night, the 141 crept along, guns ready to be fired at any threat. You carried your own weight well, being able to handle your armor and gear easily on your body, despite how you look without it. It didn’t slow you down one bit. In fact, you felt light as a feather with confidence. 
From a distance, you noticed a light. A dim one, but a consistent one. Unmoving. You spoke into your headset. “Light ahead at our ten o’clock. Could that be the compound?”
“Could be. Nice catch, Glacé. Approach carefully.” Price praised, leading the way to the light. 
Brushing past massive leaves as well as weaving through giant trees, the light revealed a collection of more lights, all coming from abandoned village buildings that were now a terrorist compound. The team crouched down into the lush jungle foliage, watching men move about the compound with guns in their hands. Crates of dangerous items were being moved across the clearing, something that would have to be confiscated as part of the mission. 
Overall, the compound was huge. Much bigger than expected. There were enough buildings to host many terrorists, weapons, food, and even prisoners. Satellite photos were none the wiser as most of it was under thick canopy or painted green to match the jungle green.
Most importantly, the 141 was trying to spot the main target, the leader of this whole operation. When the man was spotted moving from one building to the other. Instantly, Price formed a plan in his head. “Gaz, Soap, head west to take out some men. If things go south, we want to make sure we won’t have to fight our way out of too many enemies. Ghost, Glacé, head east and do the same. See about finding their bombs too. The ones that they planned to use on the city. I’m going to find their prison, help out anyone that may be held captive. Securing all those things before going after the leader is essential.”
“Yes, Captain.” Everyone agreed, splitting up into their respective directions. Sticking to the foliage, you and Ghost slithered around the east of the compound. Watching the guards to observe their moves, you both began to infiltrate further into enemy territory without being spotted. Up ahead, a guard stood with his back turned. You swapped your gun for a knife, the silent weapon being the best bet in a situation like this. 
Before Ghost could do or say anything, you silently stalked the man until he was close enough to grab. Bringing him down and slapping your hand over his mouth to stifle any sound, you quickly swiped your knife across his neck. The sound of gurgled struggle lasted for only a second. Once he was limp, you dragged him back to hide the body in the shadows.
The whole ordeal didn’t last more than a minute. It happened so fast that Ghost thought it didn’t even happen at all for a moment. You didn’t give it a second thought as you clung to the wall of a small building, eyeing a small open window that you could hop through. 
Peeking up, you spotted three men with rifles who were checking an assortment of more guns on the table. Hand signals from you silently gestured to Ghost that there were three enemies inside. Using more hand signals, it was agreed that he would take the two on the left and you would take the one on the right. With a nod, you jumped through the window and rushed your enemy, the knife slicing into his neck like butter.
Ghost shot the first target with a pistol with a silencer attachment followed by running his own knife through the other man’s jugular. All before they could even comprehend what was happening. 
Your ears picked up a subtle sound of footsteps against dirt just outside. Right behind Ghost. In a quick draw, you raised your pistol towards the door and shot an enemy as soon as he opened the door. Ghost caught the body, carefully laying him on the floor to avoid sounds that would give you away. 
As you began to search the place for any important information, Ghost looked at you almost incredulously. You worked like a well-oiled killing machine. Precise, silent, swift. Your sharp ears saved him. Your file wasn’t lying. You were clearly made for this line of work.
That fascinated him in an attractive way. It lit a fire in him. He couldn’t wait to see more. 
With a profound courage from pride to work by your side, Ghost began to search the place with you. Ultimately, you found nothing. That meant that it was time to move on to the next building. 
You felt good showing off, taking out one enemy after the other with minimal sound. Ghost had more confidence in giving you instructions, ordering you to take down more enemies while he handled his own. When you came across a building with a ladder, a guard standing on top of the building, you took it upon yourself to take care of it. From a mini-alley made by two houses, Ghost snuck forward to take down two guards. Just as he killed one of them off, you jumped down from the rooftop only to land on his second enemy and plunge your knife into him. 
Your kill count was becoming higher than his. However, he didn’t mind whatsoever. Every now and then, you looked back at him with the sweetest smile that hoped for a little praise. Without fail each time, he gave it to you. It was a treat watching you light up when he did, only to take his praise as motivation to keep taking out enemies. 
In a strange way, he was having fun. You were too. There was nothing like ridding the world from evil with the men you trusted.
The only problem was that each building was bare of what you were looking for. None of the buildings you cleared had the explosives you needed. Not even the larger buildings. When you had practically cleaned up the whole east side of the compound without finding them, Ghost radioed the captain. “East side cleared. No sight of explosives. Waiting for further instructions.”
“Copy. Gaz, Soap, any sight of the bombs?” Price responded.
“Negative, Captain. Only more terrorists.” Gaz responded promptly.
“Keep searching. We have to secure them. I’m exiting the prison now to help the search.” Price ordered, his tone frustrated from the lack of progress on that front. 
While everyone said their “Copy that,” you began to think. At this point, you should have come across something. If Gaz and Soap had swept through their side already, the explosives should have been found. There was no way any of you could miss those bombs. There was supposed to be enough to cause a huge part of the city to crumble. 
That meant that there were only two options of where the explosives were. They were either in the leader’s building, or worse, they were already planted.
Fearing the worst, you spoke through your radio. “Captain, I may know where the explosives are. They are either hiding in the building where the terrorist leader is or they are already planted in the town, waiting to be detonated.”
Ghost looked at you wide-eyed, admiring your deduction skills, yet also fearing your words. If the latter was true, then they were running out of time.”
“New plan. Everyone head to the leader’s building. Find the explosives. If they aren’t there, then we have no choice but to take that terrorist back for interrogation.” Price decided, trusting your intuition. 
As fast and quietly as you could, you ran through the compound, taking out any enemies that stood in your way like it was nothing. At this point, you didn’t even bother sneaking around. Instead, you were moving so quick and light that you were rushing guards before they could draw their weapons. You were ruthless in getting to your objective. You left almost no one for Ghost to take care of.
Down a little ways was Soap and Gaz, trying to book it as fast to the building that you were already entering. Using your pistol, you took out the guards with deadly accuracy. As the boys caught up behind you, they saw the destruction you left in your path. Bodies dead from your single headshot littered the floors, all done with barely a sound thanks to your silencer. Soap cursed in shock as he stepped over bodies in the hall. “Holy shit. Who knew that the lass could do something like this?”
“Just be glad she’s on our side.” Gaz responded, equally impressed by your kills. 
Ghost gave a dry chuckle, pride swelling within him. “Should’ve seen her in action. Glacé is like a machine.”
A minute later and all the men found you in a room, an unconscious target taped to a chair with two dead guards bleeding on the floor. Price was deeply impressed, but his words of praise would have to wait. Right now, they needed to know where the explosives were. “Any bombs?”
“Negative, Captain. Text messages from the leader’s phone reveal that the bombs are set in place in town, though.” You answered, passing him the phone you swiped after  you roundhouse kicked the target.
While Price read through the messages, the target groaned, coming back too. His eyes fluttered open, anger spreading throughout his face as he saw the 141 look down on him. Price cut to the chase, his tone threatening with each word. “Give us every single location of the bombs you planted. Now!”
“Fuck you!” The leader simply responded, spitting blood onto the floor. A bruise already began to form on the side of his face where you kicked him. As his rageful eyes looked between the men, he smirked. He didn’t plan on cracking. 
Ghost waltzed up and punched him, a crack resounding in the room from a broken tooth. In response, it was simply spit out followed by a wicked smile. He chuckled. “You really think that’s gonna make me talk? Breaking my jaw? You’re gonna have to try something else.”
“I can break him!” You spoke up, your features soft as if you weren’t watching a bloody interrogation. Price and Ghost’s gaze snapped to you, a little shocked that you were volunteering so cheerfully. They remembered that your file mentioned that you were great in interrogations. How could a sweet thing like you get someone so evil to talk?
Well, they didn’t have many other options. Price nodded. “Soap and Gaz, keep watch at the door. Take care of anyone that may cause a problem.”
“Aye, Captain.” They simultaneously confirmed before camping at the doorway. Then, Price and Ghost took a step back, allowing you all the space you could possibly need. This oughta be good.
You grabbed a spare chair, dragging it across the floor to set right in front of the terrorist. Taking a seat, you smiled at the man. A sickly sweet smile that unsettled him for some reason. However, he played it off with vile insults. “This is your secret weapon? A fucking chick? What is she gonna do? A little whore like her won’t make me talk unless she sucks my dick.”
Fury rose in Ghost’s soul as he talked to you like that. His jaw clenched and his muscles tenses, aching to beat the shit out of the target. He stepped forward, almost caving into his rage before Price put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. The captain wanted to punch the man senseless, too, but they had to trust that you were able to do this. 
You merely laughed off the insults, finding his attempts to intimidate you pathetic. “Oh, come on now. That’s not very nice. Did someone forget who roundhouse kicked you unconscious? Give me a little more credit. Anyway, the bombs. Give us every location, please~!”
His eyes widened at your rather playful attitude, the unsettling feeling growing past his stomach and into his heart. Still, he kept his mouth shut, his voice turning into a low growl. “Even if you ask me nicely, I won’t tell. That town deserves to burn to the ground. A new world will be built upon its ashes.”
With a sigh, you shook your head. “Oh well. I tried to play nice. I guess we will have to do this the hard way. Don’t blame me for what happens next~”
Without explaining any further, you unsheathed your knife. The chair was dragged behind the target after you got up, allowing you a new place to sit that revealed exactly what you wanted. Sitting behind him, you began to cut his shirt away to reveal spine. “Ghost? You mind bending his body forward for me? Keep the legs of the chair on the ground, though. Just stretch him.”
Quirking his brow out of curiosity, Ghost walked forwards and followed your instructions. He had no idea where you were going with this. Once the target was in position, the bones of his neck and spine stuck out against his skin nicely. You counted the bones, starting from the bottom using the tip of your blade. 
As soon as you had your count, you glided your knife against his T12. “Feel that? That’s your T12. This little vertebrae helps you use your legs. A fracture here doesn’t completely paralyze you, but it will be quite uncomfortable. You may feel a little numb in one leg along with back pain. Now, tell us where the bombs are planted, please~”
A shaky laugh was given, trying to call your bluff. As you worked, shivers ran across the 141’s own spines. This was your method? Spinal cord knowledge? You were both a genius and the scariest person in the room right now. Ghost, who had a front row seat, saw how you positioned your knife handle with careful accuracy.
“You think I’m afraid of a little pain and numbness?” The target mocked, his anxiety growing in secret.
Without warning, you hit his T11 with the handle of your knife. A crack resonated throughout the room along with screams of pain. Searing pain went through his body, tears threatening to escape his eyes. Parts of his body began to go numb. “AHHH! WHAT THE FUCK?!”
“That was actually your T11. A fracture here is much more painful. Recovery isn’t out of the realm of possibility yet, though. Where are the bombs?” You casually explained, your tone still light as if you were drinking hot cocoa with Ghost in the mess hall back on base. 
The target choked on his breath, the pain feeding the growing anxiety that traveled through all the nerves he could still feel. Still, he refused to confess with a shaky breath. Ignorance was bliss for him. He had no idea how much worse it could get. “Th-This is nothing! Fuck you, whore!”
Another blood curdling scream filled the room as you fractured another part of his spine with ease. Severe kidney pain with his back flared up like fire inside him. You might as well just have stabbed him directly in the kidney. “That was your T9, a vertebrae connected to your adrenal glands. Fascinating that the spine is connected to more than just simple nerves, huh? Controls more than just movement. The spinal cord is actually incredibly important to the function of the whole human body”
“YOU BITCH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!” He screamed, tears now uncontrollable from the pain. It wasn’t just the immediate pain that haunted him, though. It was the fact that if you kept going, if he didn’t seek treatment soon, he could suffer from paralysis for the rest of his life.
“The bombs. Where are they? If you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to hit your C5 next. This one won’t hurt, but the long-term side effects won’t be pretty.” You pressured once again, your knife handle slowly traveling further up his spine.
Stubborn as a mule, he steeled himself and shook his head, refusing to speak. You clicked your tongue like a disappointed school teacher. “By the way, my name is Glacé. They call me that because I tend to sugarcoat things.”
The scream that followed as soon as you shattered his C5 was unforgettable. It was bound to keep even some of the members of the 141 up for a couple nights. Your psychological game combined with your physical one was outstanding. Apparently, someone as sweet as you could really bring a man to incoherent screams and tears.
“Please, no more. I-I can’t feel my legs. . .” The target cried, his pants becoming darker in color as he soiled himself. Such was one of the side effects of injuring the C5. Loss of bowel and bladder control was quite common. Paralysis of the trunk and legs as well. 
You didn’t pull away yet, your knife raising further up to his C3 which controlled his breathing along with more motion function. However, you didn’t tell him that. You didn’t need to. “Every single bomb. If you neglect to mention one, then I will have no problem coming back to fracture more of your spine. Not that you would be able to escape very far with your legs now~”
With a solemn nod and sob of defeat, he revealed each and every location of his planted bombs throughout the nearby city. Along with the detail that the explosives were actually already set on a timer. They were all set to detonate by noon the next day on the dot. After the locations were taken down, you patted the target’s shoulder. “Thank you for the information. However, keeping you alive would be an act of disservice to the world~”
A hard force to his C3 had him spasm, drowning out all sounds with his cries until he lost the last of his breath. Struggling to breath, the man began to slump, losing control of his diaphragm from the injury. It wouldn’t take him long to die out due to this. Not before experiencing some time of pure suffering, though. 
The compound itself held no more enemies, the last of them being killed by Soap and Gaz when they came to check on their boss. When no enemies were in sight once the team stepped outside, Price radioed Kate with the new information. While you walked back through the jungle to reach the rendezvous point where a helicopter would pick you up, Ghost kept stealing glances at you. 
All he could think about was how beautifully you performed. Terrifying, yet your tone was still sweet until the end. The way you did your job so accurately, so ambitiously, it was like watching art. 
If he wasn’t in love with you before, he was definitely in love with you now. 
~
Police ran everywhere around the city, helping find the bombs that were ticking down. One by one, they were diffused. Each one was reported after the job was done, Kate keeping a list which was checked off with each find and diffusing. The team was split up, each one of you assigned to diffuse bombs yourself with your own squad of local authorities. 
At first, the authorities didn’t know how to react when they realized that you were in command of them. However, there wasn’t time to debate. They followed your instructions to a tee, finding the explosives diligently. It was pretty clear why you were in charge after the first few bombs were diffused. 
“South side cleared. Good work, Soap.” Kate praised through the radio, allowing everyone to know that the south side of the heart of the city was safe. Soon after, Gaz’s north side was cleared followed by Price’s west and Ghost’s east. You were still working on the central center, the bombs hidden more carefully.
“Glacé, how are we doing? I still have two bombs left unchecked on my end.” Kate radioed you, concern starting to show through her voice. It wasn’t noon yet. There were still a few hours before then. However, anything could go wrong. It was better to find all of them as quickly as possible to avoid any accidents.
“Still searching for the last two. They’re better hidden than the others.” You confessed, your short-term squad searching the entire building for them behind you. You were searching under cubicles, under chairs, in vents, on ceiling fans, everywhere that you could possibly think off. 
“Everyone, head over to where Glacé is to help her. Bring your squads too. The more eyes, the better.” Kate instructed. Everyone agreed, the men making their way across the city to you in armored cars.
You raked your eyes over the floor you were on. Nothing but cubicles as far as the eye could see. Papers scattered everywhere from the search. Authorities scrambled to find the last bombs. Taking a deep breath, you continued your search, hoping to find the explosives before the rest of the team gets to you.
“Sergeant Glacé! There’s a closet hidden back here behind the filing cabinets!” One of your squad members called out. The men pushed the cabinets back to access the closet. When one of the men began to open the door, you saw a brief shine. A glimmer so quick that you could’ve missed it if you blinked. A trip wire.
“STO-”
Everything flashed white followed by a wave of heat. The shockwave sent you to the floor, disorientating you to the point of nauseousness. The sound of concrete and pipes breaking were deafening. Another explosion sounded off from the floor above, the first bomb triggering the second. The whole building shook like an earthquake hit it. The floor above began to crumble away over you. Pieces of it already began to rain down upon you. With the little strength you had left, you crawled under a cubicle, the desk protecting you as the falling building caved you in. 
Then, you blacked out. 
On the outside, the team saw the shattering glass, the burst of fire and smoke, and parts of the building already beginning to crumble. Ghost’s blood ran cold, his heart stopping in its tracks. Being the man behind the wheel of the armored vehicle, he floored it suddenly. The only thing on his mind was getting to you.
The 141 frantically radioed you, panic in their voices as they tried to make sure that you’re okay. When they heard no answer, fear began to take hold. This was your first mission with them, but they weren’t ready to lose you. Not with how much you meant to all of them. Especially Ghost. 
The car screeched to a halt in front of the tall building. Without even taking the keys out of the ignition, the men exited the vehicle and ran into the building. Thankfully, the foundation kept it standing. 
“Laswell! What were the locations of the last missing bombs?!” Price contacted Kate, trying to help the team save time from searching every floor for you. There was no time to waste if you were dying. 
“Fourteenth floor and sixteenth floor! I’m sending medics your way now! Be careful of debris.” Kate relayed, already working on getting medics and a helicopter to you. Sprinting up the stairwell, the men reached your floor. When they opened the door, they began to cough from all the smoke and debris left behind in the explosives’ destruction. Treading carefully, they began to search the rubble. 
Your squad members were scattered, many of them pinned, many of them dead. Gaz, Soap, and Price began to drag them out, praying that the medical team would arrive soon. Ghost focused on looking for you. That’s all he really cared about.
“Glacé! Glacé! Y/n!” He called, eventually using your real name that he remembers from your file. Piles upon piles of concrete made his anxiety get worse and worse. The longer he searched, the longer he couldn’t hear you respond, the more panicked he got. 
Eventually, you began to stir awake, a brain-splitting headache taking hold. You coughed dust out of your lungs, your throat drier than a desert. Your skin felt dirty, caked with dust. Your ears were still ringing, but you could hear Ghost calling out for you. He used your real name. Slowly, you raised your aching arm to your radio. “Simon?”
When Ghost heard you call out his real name from his radio, he almost collapsed with relief. You were alive. His voice shook when he replied back to you.“Y/n! Where are you?”
“Under a cubicle. I’m caved in by debris. I don’t think I can push the concrete by myself right now. I’m okay, though.” You sugarcoated. One of your ribs definitely felt broken. The pain was sharp and it was a bit hard to breathe. 
“Hang on, we’re gonna get you.” Ghost promised, already pulling away collapsed concrete with his hands. Price and Soap joined him, taking crowbars to pull away at the rubble around the cubicles. Gaz focused on saving more men from your squad on Captain’s orders. 
Finally, you could see glimpses of light from your team moving what was caving you in. The sudden bright light when the large piece of rubble made you wince, no windows to prevent the sun from hurting your eyes. When your vision came back, the first thing you saw was Ghost’s skull mask. He looked like he was close to tears when he saw you.
You gave him a weak smile as he helped you out from under the desk. Instead of helping you stand though, he pulled you in for a hug, cradling you in his arms. He thought he almost lost you. 
When he squeezed just a little too tightly, you hissed. That broken rib of yours was starting to really hurt now. He looked down at you, examining how you automatically held your ribcage. “Your ribs are broken. You’re not okay.”
His scolding tone was light, but you still felt bad. “Yeah. . . I’m sorry. . .”
“We’ll discuss this later. Right now, you need medical attention. A helicopter should be here any moment.” He sighed, feeling guilty at how sorry you looked. Ghost didn’t mean to make you feel so bad. However, he didn’t like how you sugarcoated the truth to him. Even if it was to prevent him from panicking too much.
Right on cue, the sound of the helicopter began to fill the air. Dust kicked up as the blades whirled closer to the side of the building, right near the broken windows. Nikolai expertly handled the flying machine, getting as close as he could so you could board. Kate held out her hand for you to take once your team got you back on your feet. 
As soon as you were aboard, the helicopter began to head to the safehouse so you could receive your medical attention in peace. The local hospital was sure to be full of men that your team just helped save. 
Ghost watched the helicopter disappear into the distance, nerves still feeling unsteady as if this was the last time he would see you. A hand landed on his shoulder, snapping him out of his dark thoughts. Soap gave a supportive grin. “She’ll be okay. She’s sweet, but also tough as nails.”
~
It’s been eight weeks since Ghost last saw you. All that time was spent recovering in your apartment off base. While he wanted to visit you, he didn’t want to intrude. Your text messages were the only thing that let the team know that you were safe as well as taking it easy. Doctor’s orders.
You were missing your team as well. Especially Ghost. Every day you missed him more and more. Making him tea, the teakwood smell of his cologne, his baritone voice. You often thought about the way he hugged you last time you saw him. How close he held you. 
There were little things that would make you think about him in your apartment as well. Whenever you had to open your kitchen cupboard, you thought about how he would always get your mug for you, often standing behind you with his chest close to your back. You knew that he was putting your mug on the top shelf on purpose. It was obvious since he always cleaned up your mug after you left. You always gave him a chance to confess, but he always played innocent. 
As you stood in front of your cupboard now, trying to pick out a cute mug, you giggled from the memories. By now, you were fully healed, but the doctor recommended giving it another couple of days with light exercise to help adjust back into work before actually being on base again.
Being a perfect patient, you followed every order. Now though, you were bored. Normally you could keep yourself occupied for a while all by yourself. And you did for as long as you could. Now, you wanted at least some good company.
An idea dawned upon you, causing you to pull out your phone and send a text to Ghost. You invited him to your apartment for drinks, the usual tea and cocoa to create more normalcy in your life. It didn’t take long for him to reply, saying that he was on his way.
In a little less than half an hour, there was a knock at your door. You got up and opened it, greeting him warmly with a bright smile and a tight hug. “I missed you~”
Simon lost his breath when he saw you for the first time in eight weeks. You were dressed in civilian clothes, something he’s never really seen before. The sky blue skinny jeans you wore paired with your white blouse made you look like the perfect little housewife. A special treat he could just eat right up.   
God, he missed you. He’s been dying to see you again to not only work with a beauty like you, but to also finally confess his feelings to you. “I missed you too, y/n. Let’s head inside, yeah? I got something important to tell you.”
You gave him a quick, tight squeeze before letting go, ushering him into your cute apartment. Everything in your space matched your soft personality. Cute colors on the walls, healthy plants near windows, white furniture with flowers painted on. He would’ve never guessed that you were a beast on the battlefield based on your apartment alone. Knowing that you were felt like a special secret that only he knew.
“Thanks for coming over by the way! It’s been a little lonely being here by myself. I kinda did all the things that usually entertain me already when I was first ordered to recover at home. Anyway, I got your favorite tea! Just give me a moment to make it for you.” You rambled, missing being able to talk to the person you cared about.
A hand on your shoulder stopped you from waltzing into your kitchen. “Oh no you don’t. While I’m here, you’re taking it easy. I’ll make the drinks. You sit on the couch and wait. Put on some of your favorite music at the most.”
His stern tone sent a little shiver through you, cheeks growing red as he stirred something inside you. “O-Oh! Okay! If you need any help, let me know!”
With a pep in your step you headed to your soft couch. Settling in with a fluffy blanket, you grabbed the TV remote and turned on some light music. Not too loud so you would be able to have a conversation with Ghost.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Simon was doing his best in making your drink just how you liked it. While he’s seen you do it many times, he was still nervous about screwing it up somehow. He picked out two different strawberry mugs for the both of you, filling each one with hot cocoa mix. Just like you did, he waited for the milk to simmer, poured them into the mugs, and gave them a gentle stir. He found whipped cream in your fridge which he used on both of the mugs. When he put the whipped cream back, he noticed a leftover bar of chocolate in your fridge. It didn’t look bitten into. Rather, a corner of it seemed shaved off.
Grabbing it and finding mini marshmallows in your pantry, he finished off the mugs with chocolate shavings and marshmallows on top of the whipped cream. The cream didn’t look as pretty like when you did it, but the chocolate shavings helped make it look not so bad.
Taking the mugs, he carried them to your living room only to see you waiting patiently for him, a big smile on your face that was contagious. Simon handed you your mug before settling into the couch beside you. 
You eyed his mug, surprised that he didn’t opt for his usual tea this time. The strawberry-shaped cup in his large hands didn’t quite match his military image. He was still in camo pants and the classic military beige shirt like he just came from base. “I thought you didn’t have much of a sweet tooth for things like this.”
“I didn’t until I met you.” He admitted, leaving you unsure if that was meant to be flirty or not. Either way, it sent the butterflies in your tummy into a frenzy. 
You took a sip of cocoa, the chocolate-covered whipped cream melting on your tongue. Simon observed you, watching your expression to morph into satisfaction or disgust. A weight was lifted off his shoulders as you beamed at him, making his own heart skip a beat. “It’s delicious! Thank you~”
He nodded silently, debating his next move. Ultimately, he decided that he was ready to give you everything he had to offer. Removing his mask off completely, you saw his face for the first time. You almost choked on your marshmallow as you took in how handsome he was. 
Chiseled features, beautiful blue eyes flattered by blonde lashes, facial scars here and there that only made him look more ruggedly handsome. You could feel your face heat up as you stared, unable to take your eyes off him.
“Something on my face?” He smirked while raising his cocoa to his lips, eating up your reaction. He was hoping that you would react this way. He wanted to have your heart pounding for him. 
Realizing that you were being teased, you giggled. The blush on your face was getting redder by the second. Waiting until he was done with his sip, you responded by wiping the whipped cream off his face with your thumb. You kissed it off your thumb when you pulled back, still somehow being able to be relatively smooth while also being a gooey mess inside. “Just a little whipped cream~”
Simon’s ears turned red from your actions. His heart almost burst out of his chest. Not being able to hold it in anymore, he set both of your mugs down on the coffee table. Once those were placed down, he cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss.
Your eyes went wide for a moment. You didn’t expect him to suddenly kiss you like this. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. Fireworks erupted through you. Before you knew it, you were leaning back into the kiss, tasting the sweet chocolate and cream off his lips.
His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him while your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. You wanted to touch him like this for so long. Ever since you first shared drinks together you wanted to touch him. As soon as he licked your leftover whipped cream off his thumb you wanted to wrap your arms around him for a kiss. 
The kiss became deeper as it went on, small moans escaping from you that was real music to Simon’s ears. You tasted so sweet to him. So soft to the touch under his hands. More than anything, he wanted to taste you further. Cave into his craving for you. 
When you pulled apart to catch your breaths, Simon saw how brightly your eyes shined. How cutely you smiled at him. He wanted to make you his so badly. “Y/n, I want you to be mine. I want you to belong only to me. Will you be my love?”
You blinked, hardly believing that those words came out of his mouth. It was impossible to fight back the smile that formed on your face. You wanted to dance with joy. For now, you sprung up and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. Your pretty scent, your lovely laughter, and your velvety softness blessed his senses as he held you close right back.
“Absolutely, Simon! I would love to be yours~!” You accepted, hardly being able to contain yourself as your lips crashed against his right after.
You could feel him smile against you, equally as happy that you accepted. You resumed making out, each kiss full of love as feelings were mutual. Large hands felt up your curves, causing you to moan into the passionate kisses. Not being able to help himself, he swiped his tongue against your lips, urging you to open your mouth for him. As soon as you did, his tongue slipped through to overtake you. His warm, soft tongue wrestled against yours, aiming to taste just how sugary sweet you were. 
As he deepened the kiss, your fingers ran through his blond locks, the silky strands feeling nice against your touch. A low, guttural moan came from Simon as your own touch caused him to tremble. The effect you had on him was out of this world.
Slowly, he lifted you up to have you sit in his lap. He began to lose control as your soft chest pressed against his. You could feel his firm chest as he breathed heavily, getting lost in the kisses you shared. Your own breath was getting hot and heavy. Underneath you, you could start to feel a subtle rise of his pants as an erection began to grow. 
When you shifted in his lap, your hips grinding into his by accident, he gave a sharp groan. His hands landed firmly on your hips to stop moving, a fluttering feeling inside you coming to life as he handled you. 
Simon pulled away from the kiss, feeling like he was embarrassing himself by getting so sexual with you. You had just agreed to become his girlfriend! Did he really have no self control when it came to you? “We should stop. I don’t want to rush things if you aren’t ready.”
“Who says I’m not ready?” You genuinely asked, a curious tilt of your head making you look absolutely adorable in his eyes. His erection twitched, only growing bigger the longer you sat in his lap with that kissable face of yours. 
“Seriously, sweetheart, I’m trying to be a pretty decent boyfriend right now.” Simon warned, his playfully narrowing eyes sending your heart into overdrive. The new nickname had you grinning as well.
“What if I told you that I didn’t mind taking things further? It’s been lonely recovering here all by myself. My usual efforts to ease the tension haven’t been working so great.” You explained delicately. While you were open to talking about how you felt, you were still a little shy hearing the words out loud. 
Simon took your words seriously. It was hard to say no to you. He wanted to give you the world. Such a sweet thing like you deserved all of the love in the world if you wanted it. 
Not being able to refuse your advance, he began to gently kiss your neck. The sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin already had you trembling. Sweet kisses trailed down to your exposed collarbone, Simon excited to go further down on you. “At any point where you want to stop, tell me. We’ll stop immediately.”
“Don’t stop, Simon.” You sighed as his kisses became firmer. Parted lips suckled on your skin, leaving marks on your skin. He wanted to cover you with them to let everyone know that you were his. 
The tent in his pants got larger and firmer, throbbing every so often against your crotch as you grinded into him. You could feel your panties become damp with your arousal, the feeling of his erection pressing against your needy folds making you excited. Wanting things to progress further, you pulled off your blouse to reveal your lacy bra.
Simon wasn’t much into lingerie. He always had the mindset that lingerie would end up on the floor anyways, so what did it matter. However, seeing your daily, cute lace bra on you like a delicate candy wrapper hiding a sweet treat had him reeling. Christ, he wanted to completely unwrap you and indulge. 
The way your new boyfriend looked at you in just your lacy bra alone filled you with fuzz. The way his eyes ran all over you, taking in your figure that was so close to his, made you shiver. You wanted to be eaten by him just as much as he did. If not even more. 
Passionate kisses resumed, tongues tangling together as hands roamed each other’s bodies. Slipping your hands under his shirt, you felt how hot he was running. Muscles flexed under your touch. Moans entered your mouth. Simon’s skin felt like heaven, even with the scars from hell that he had all over him. 
“Mmn, you taste so sweet, sweetheart.” He praised you, his cock now fully erect within his pants. Wanting more, you helped take off this shirt. You almost began to drool as soon as you got to see his bare chest. Broad and strong. 
You reached behind you and unclipped your bra, your breasts free to rub against the chest that you were aching for as soon as you were ready. For a moment, you got up too and removed your pants along with your panties. Simon’s brain short circuited for a second as you stood in front of him almost unapologetically nude. 
There was a bit of blush still on your cheeks as you hoped that Simon liked what he saw. Even the parts that you felt self-conscious about and the new scars that you got from the last mission. However, to Simon, you were the most beautiful woman in the entire world. The best thing he has ever seen.
He was eager to touch your soft skin, run his hands over your silky folds, and rake his fingers through your luscious hair. More than anything, he wanted to make you feel good. Especially if you have been sexually frustrated during your recovery. 
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. May I touch you?” Simon complimented, pulling you back onto his lap, making sure that you were situated comfortably. 
You knew what he meant when he asked. Your senses tingled and pussy clenched when he asked so nicely. As much as you wanted him to touch you, another part was a bit bashful. You were already so wet for him that you didn’t want to scare him off. Nonetheless, you couldn’t resist the offer. 
After you nodded, Simon turned you around in his lap, your back against his solid chest like you always belonged there. Large, firm hands began to massage your breasts, body already shuttering from the touch. You sighed in pleasure as he handled your tits with just the right amount of grip, squeezing in all the right places. Each touch was deliberate. Simon wanted to know every sweet spot you had. Every place that made you tremble and moan. When he began pinching your precious nipples, you flinched suddenly.
Simon gave a soft chuckle, kissing the side of your head. “Sensitive here, sweetheart?”
“Y-Yeah. . .” You blushed, figuring that being honest for him was going to be the best for the both of you at the moment. 
“Good girl.” He praised, his accented, husky voice going straight into your ear. With one hand, he felt up your stomach and down your hips. He kept going until he was feeling up the inside of your thighs. Some pressure on your skin motioned for you to spread your legs farther for him. 
Like his good, sweet girl, you obeyed. The open air hitting your slick slit made you whimper. Simon’s fingers traced up the skin of your thigh until he was just grazing your weeping cunt. Fluid coated his fingers like a smooth sugar glaze. “Look at you, so wet for me.”
Your breath became heavier and heavier as your heart raced faster. He was teasing you, gently spreading your mess all over your fluttering folds. When he did apply more pressure, thick fingers exploring your external crevices, you let out a cute moan. One that Simon wanted on a record. 
In circular, powerful strokes, Simon rubbed your swollen clit. While it soothed the ache for his physical touch, it began to drive you wild for more. Earthquakes of pleasure shook you to your core. You may have bucked out of Simon’s lap if it wasn’t for his other arm and hand holding you down across your torso. 
Pinching your clit softly between his fingers, he did the same with your nipple. You cried out deliciously, Simon smiling at every reaction that you gave him. His own arousal throbbed and ached, hitting the back of you with mutual need for more. Yet, he could hold it back if it meant getting you off first.
However, you knew that he was holding back for you. Not only did you feel it in his cock, but in his heart as his chest thumped against your back with each beat. It made you want him even more. More than just his kisses and fingers.
“I-Inside. . .” You begged, the words falling off your tongue as you became breathless. It wasn’t enough for him to play with just your clit anymore. You needed something inside. Something that will hit you deep in all the right places. 
His fingers began to toy with your entrance, more of your honey leaking out. “Sorry, sweetheart. Not yet. I need to loosen you up first before I can give you more. Be a good girl for me and stay patient, yeah?”
Before you could respond, his fingers plunged into you with ease. You gasped and moaned, tightening around him as he began to slowly rub your insides as deep as he could go. Kisses landed on your cheek and neck, praises for your patience spilling out as he continued to pump his fingers. Your head began to feel fuzzy along with every single blood cell that flowed through your body. 
You were making a complete mess out of his hand, your slippery slick traveling up into his palm as it pressed against your still throbbing clit. The other hand still played with your tits, rubbing your nipples in time with how his palm rubbed up your clit. 
Your toes curled as his fingers did, hitting that delicate spot inside you that made you see stars. Moans turned into cries as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. Simon’s cock began to leak pre-cum as he felt you squirm and squeeze around his fingers. You looked so perfect like this. Close to orgasm, mouth opening to release each moan. 
As you clenched down, Simon quickly turned your face towards him, lips pressing against yours to eat up your orgasmic cries. Suddenly, his tongue slipped into your mouth just as he pumped faster into you. With the firmer, quicker movements, he was rubbing against your clit at an overwhelming rate. Pinching your nipple for the final time sealed the deal as he plunged you into your climax.
He held you down tight against his warm body, eating up moan after moan as you shuttered hard. You doused his fingers and tightened up so much that you were sucking him in. Even as you came all over his hand, Simon still rubbed your walls, not wanting you to completely recover from your orgasm. 
When he broke the kiss, you gasped for air. Your hands that gripped the couch cushion below you felt numb. Still, you raised them, grasping Simon’s arms to get him to give you a second. 
And just like that, he stopped. He didn’t want to push you too far after all. If you needed a moment to catch your breath, he would gladly give it to you.
“S-Simon. . .” You weakly called out, going limp against his chest. As wiped as you were, you didn’t want to just end it there. There was still a strong desire to feel his cock inside you. It was something you didn’t mind pushing for now if you needed to.
However, that dazed, yet needy look of yours said everything to Simon. Carefully, he laid you down onto the couch. As you settled in comfortably, he removed the rest of his clothes. His cock sprang to life, still leaking pre-cum. He didn’t have any condoms on him and he doubted you did too, but he trusted himself not to go too far.
You trusted him too, arms raising up towards him, inviting him into your embrace. Finally, he was going to make love to you. 
Positioning himself first, his erection pressed against your entrance, giving him chills from how hot you were already. Once he was in position, he slowly lowered himself over you, arms on each side of your head. 
Holding onto him tight, you braced yourself for his intrusion, your pussy stretching to accommodate his large size. Your nails dug into his back, your breath hitching as he took his time pushing himself deeper into you. Just him going in made all your nerves go haywire. When he was finally all in, he sighed in relief. “You okay, sweetheart?”
You shook your head, trying to hold back whimpers. “I’m okay. You just. . . It feels good. . .”
Love flashed in Simon’s blue eyes, ecstatic that he wasn’t causing you pain. Not wanting to jinx it, he moved at a tender pace. Passionate kisses were peppered over your soft lips as he began to thrust, causing you to moan. The way his cock massaged the deepest parts of you had your body feel like it was on fire. 
“Fuck! Don’t clench down like that all of a sudden. You’re already tight, y/n.” Simon hissed, his expression wincing from the pleasure of your cunt tightening around him more than before. 
Just him saying your name had to tighten up again, making Simon give a low groan. Afterwards, he smirked, sending your heart aflame. “You like it when I use your real name, y/n?”
Again, you clenched without meaning to, your nectar dripping out and down your filled cunt. “Y-Yeah. . .”
“Good girl. You know, I like it when you use my name too.” He hinted, his pace picked up so he could hear his name come out of you.
“S-Simon!” You gasped at his new speed, feeling every single inch of him reach deep inside until he bottomed out before thrusting outwards. Simon couldn’t believe how wet, hot, and tight you were. It was like a dream come true seeing you shake with ecstasy, cry out his name, and hold him for more. The way you dug your pretty little fingernails into his muscular back made him shiver. 
He buried his face into your neck and kissed your skin, making sure that you would get all the pleasure you deserved. Your moans got louder as his movements became more passionate. Feverish. You made a mess on your couch, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how good it felt for Simon to make love to you. How good it felt to feel all of him inside you. As tight as you were around him, it felt like you were made for each other.
Screaming his name, your hand went up to his hair, gripping onto blonde locks as you got close to an orgasm again. Simon could feel it too with the way you sucked him in. His cock throbbed at the prospect of you cumming all over him. He wanted to be able to cum with you so bad, but he wouldn’t do that to you. Not without your consent or being ready for that next step. For now, he was just loving how perfect your pussy was for him. 
Sweet words of praise and encouragement flooded your ears, pushing you closer to cumming. Simon thrusted harder and deeper, yet still kept his flawless pace to not completely break your flow. “That’s it, sweetheart. Give it all to me.”
When you felt his tongue glide against your neck, you nearly cried out his name for the final time. Your legs around Simon kept him close, allowing him to feel just how much you could clench around him. Douse him in your sweet honey. He didn’t mind how hard your nails were digging into his back or how firm your grip on his hair was. Actually, it felt heavenly as he continued to thrust into you for his own pleasure. 
Your quivers became more violent as Simon kept pumping through your orgasm, more and more of your nectar making a mess on both of you. You bit your lip as you tried to regain control, but it didn’t matter. Whimpers, whines, and moans just wouldn’t stop flowing out of you. Each cry was sending Simon to his own climax. Wanting to hear even more, he gave in to going faster.
Without knowing it, Simon made you cum once again. Since he didn’t stop while you were orgasming the first time, your senses were overloaded with indulgence. Your brain went and vision turned into fuzz again as you came harder the second time. 
Simon growled as you soaked him once more, feeling your pussy try to milk him for everything he’s got. His own vision was seeing stars as the pressure began to build for him. With one last shred of reasoning left, he pulled out of you and stroked out the rest of his orgasm with his hand. His body strained to keep him upright as he jerked off over you. Hot, white ropes of cum showered your belly as Simon worked himself. 
Finally, he slowed to a stop, breath heavy and brain catching up to reality. When he saw the mess he left on you, he captured the moment in his mind like a picture. When you came as well, you looked up at him with the most adoring look in your eyes. 
Taking a tissue from the box on your coffee table, he wiped you clean. Then, he took one of the blankets you draped over the top of the couch onto the both of you, Simon spooning you close as the both of you regained some energy back. 
You nuzzled his hand that was draped over you. “Stay over tonight?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you wish.” He promised, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. 
282 notes · View notes
thefallennightmare · 4 months
Text
Just Pretend-Twenty One
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: This entire chapter will be in Angel's POV! Hence the gif! Now before any of y'all ask, no! This isn't a love triangle chapter. Its about a girl who meets someone that has gone through the same thing she has and they have a moment together where they help each other over come those evil parts of their pasts (Platonically) Two people finding their "friendship" soulmates, if ya will.
FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.
We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses
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READER
I sat on my bed with the notebook perched on my lap with papers and discarded pens all over my bedroom. Salem curled up on my pillow next to me, his purring an eerily calm background noise as it combined with the scratching of my pen on paper. 
“I know it’s colder where I’m at,” I muttered in a soft tune. 
Ew, no not that. 
I scratched through the words with such force it ripped through the paper. 
“Fuck,” I cursed while tossing the book onto the floor then rubbed ink-stained hands over my face. 
I went through four different pens by now and changed the paper from my spiral notebook to printer paper. I had been held up in my room all night writing, not wanting to be bothered. With our tour starting in a few days, we needed to leave tomorrow which meant I spent most of my day and afternoon packing and getting things in order. 
For the last few days, Hollow Souls had been working tirelessly to practice our setlist and make sure all of our visuals were spot on. It was our first tour of just the three of us and my nerves were taking over every aspect of my life. I couldn’t even enjoy the fact that I was about to spend the next two weeks with my favorite artist. 
nothing, nowhere. 
Joe’s music had been a huge part of my healing process for years so when he reached out with the idea of opening up for Hollow Souls, immediately we agreed. Even though the nerves were still there, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I couldn’t count how many times I picked up my phone, wanting to text Noah, but always backed out. I told him I needed some time, truthfully I think I needed it to remind myself I could be my own person and succeed with this band for a little while. 
Maybe I needed to prove to myself that I was able to take the lead of this band without anyone pointing the finger, thinking it was someone else behind the curtain. There wasn’t someone else. It was me.
My heart began to stutter in my chest, blood running cold, so I took a deep breath while counting to four; exactly like Dr. Poulos told me to do. Soon, I felt heat spread within me as the image of Noah danced behind my eyelids. I missed him and yearned for his presence. My stomach was in knots since the second I left his house a few days ago. 
“I know it’s warmer where you are,” my eyes snapped open as the words fell from my lips. 
Fuck, that's good. 
We confessed, we told the truth. A weight was lifted off me. Noah loves me. 
He fucking loves me back. 
“I know it’s warmer where you are, and it’s safer by your side,” I sang while quickly writing it down on a fresh piece of paper.  “Right now I can’t be what you want, just give it time.”  
I began to ache at times, my stomach was sore, and my head would pound. It was often like this that I began to think I’d caught a cold. I wasn’t- it was just me feeling empty. I knew whatever this moment of self-reflection was, it was worth it. I love Noah and he loved me back.
We’d be together; soon. I had to believe that. I knew in my gut. I trusted it but I hope he trusted me.
“Cause if you and I can make it through the night,” my voice was loud now as I felt comfortable with how the lyrics were now pouring out of me. 
But there was this nagging feeling inside of me that I couldn't ignore. We last texted each other at 10 p.m. that night saying we loved each other. The invisible string that always seemed to connect us was urging me to text him. This was something else I couldn’t ignore. 
It was important to me that with this new love, the love for Noah, we have made the effort to fully heal first so we do the inner work that is required to become a whole person once more. All born into our era, our family, our body. We can only be ourselves and accountable for ourselves. He needed to know I loved him, and that I’d come to him. 
Was it selfish of me to walk away after we confessed our love? I wasn’t sure. I just knew it was important for us both to grow from our experiences. So be that rare kind of true love and this bond will be eternal. That I promise him.
With a deep breath, I shifted my attention to my phone and decided to send the message before I doubted myself again. 
Me: I love you, mochi. 
Before I could even set my phone down, it buzzed in my hand with a new message. 
Mochi 🍡: I love you, angel.
The crushing weight that I felt gripping around my heart lifted as I read Noah’s message over and over again. Although we were apart for the time being, we would be alright because we loved each other. I lay here in deep thought and my mind wandered back to my primal need for intimacy.  There is that feeling of maturity, the admittance of being in love with Noah. It arrived without fanfare. Our souls were humble travelers and I could feel the bruise begin to form on my shoulder, so desperate to feel him again.
Salem rubbed his head against my arm and I brought him into my chest, peppering his face in kisses. 
“We can meet in the middle, body and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight,” I muttered to myself. 
Noah and I have a long road together, and it’s one I wanted to last. 
A knock sounded on my door before it opened slowly, Chase's stern smile on his lips. 
Uh oh. 
He leaned against the door frame. "Sweets, I love you. You know I do. But you're fucking killing me with the paint on the carpet in the dining room." 
I knew it. 
"I'm sorry! I know, I know.” I nodded with a long sigh. “It's just the lighting in my bedroom sucks compared to the light in the dining room. I'll put down a drop next time."
Malcolm came into my room, laying a kiss on Chase’s cheek before falling onto the end of my bed somehow missing the mess I created with my writing. 
“Don’t be so hard on her, Chase,” Malcolm said before motioning to my bed. “How’s the writing going?” 
I shrugged. “It’s going, I guess. I think my mind is so preoccupied with the next few weeks that it’s hard to focus.” 
“Excited?” Chase questioned. 
“Excited?” I scoffed. “I’m fucking ecstatic. In less than twenty-four hours I’m going to meet one of my idols and tour with him for two weeks.” 
Malcolm spoke next. “Feeling confident with the setlist?” 
“Yeah! I think we’ve got a good amount of songs and I’m stoked to perform Eyelids live. I think it will be a great way to tease the new album.” 
I’d been very apprehensive to put one of the newer songs on the set list only because some fans weren’t supportive of Eyelids or St. Patrick when they first came out. But Hollow Souls were evolving into a new era and we couldn’t continue to be stuck in the past. 
“Ethan said the bus will be here to pick us up by noon tomorrow,” Chase informed. “Are you all packed and ready?” 
I pointed to the three suitcases at the other end of my room but as Salem jumped off my lap to go lay with Malcolm, I realized something important. 
"Oh, shit. I forgot to see if someone can take care of Salem,” I chastised myself. 
I didn’t miss the glance the two of them shared and raised a brow as Malcolm spoke up.  "Already taken care of."
“You asked Noah, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face. 
“Maybe,” he shrugged while giving Salem some belly rubs. 
Chase rolled his eyes before pushing himself off the door frame and sitting next to Malcolm. “Of course we did. Who else would you ask?” 
“I could have asked Jolly or Jesse. I didn’t want to put this on Noah,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 
“Well, he’s basically Salem’s dad now,” 
“Malcom!” I smacked his shoulder. 
“I’m just saying,” he chuckled while rubbing his arm. 
“We’re not official yet, guys,” I ran a hand through my hair before pulling my knees to my chest. “Please don’t do that.” 
“No way,” Chase shook his hand as Malcolm rested a hand on his thigh. “We’re not doing that. You need to think of the positives. You two said you love each other. Soon you will find your way back to one another.” 
“I love your optimism,” I said while playfully rolling my eyes. 
“Hey, smart ass. We know these things,” Malcolm snorted while still playing with Salem. 
“You do, huh? Do you have connections to the other side?” I teased. 
“We were watching a show last week about alternate universes and shit. It made me think that maybe there’s more of us out there, ya know?” he squeezed Chase’s knee. “Who the hell knows, maybe you and Noah fucked one night, magically fell in love, and went on the road with him. By the end of it, you moved into an apartment that’s right across the street from his house because you couldn’t fathom being away from him,” Chase spoke with a smirk.
My face reddened as I shifted my gaze downwards. “Wow, that’s-uh-you really thought about that.”
Malcolm laughed. “Or what if in another life, Noah walked through literal flames for you.” 
I snorted at that thought because there was no way Noah would risk his life to walk through a fire to save my life, even if I was hanging from a building. 
“Now you’re talking about shit people read in romance novels. Did my long-lost brother start the fire as well?” 
Malcolm narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m just saying, the two of you will find your way. We’re proud of you and how far you’ve come. You and Noah will grow together.”  
My heart jumped in my throat at how sincere Malcolm sounded and the way Chase’s eyes danced as he stared at me. 
“Thank you guys. That means a lot to me,” I smiled. 
“Always sweets, always,” Chase kissed my forehead. “You’re the miracle Noah needed, you know?” 
“I think he was the miracle I needed as well,” I admitted. 
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READER
“Wow, Dallas. You are all such beautiful souls tonight. I cannot express our gratitude for all the support we’ve been getting this tour. We’re only four shows in and we’re having the best fucking time. Thank you,” I smiled into the microphone while tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind my ear. 
The crowd cheered wildly as Chase pounded the foot pedal of his drum, the beat making my heart thump hard in my chest. It was night four of the tour and even though it was straight show after show and I was exhausted, I let the energy from the crowd up me hype to finish tonight strong. 
The support of this tour had been fucking outstanding. Every show was sold out and we even had to move our last show into a bigger arena due to high demand. The three of us were so unbelievably proud of the direction we were headed and we didn’t want to look back. 
“Before we play our last song, I think we need to show our opener some love!” I said into the microphone. 
The crowd clapped and screamed but I frowned while shifting my weight on one foot while shaking my head. 
“That’s pretty weak. I want the fucking roof to blow off of here. Let’s hear it for nothing, nowhere!” 
Chase and Malcolm played an in-sync beat as the crowd screamed, cheered, clapped, and jumped up and down. 
“That’s better.” I nodded with a smile while adjusting my guitar. “Not many know this but I’m such a huge fan of nothing, nowhere so to be here touring with him has me fangirling pretty hard right now.” 
I peered over to the side stage where Joe was leaning, watching our set with a smile. We met a few days ago and even though I did my best to keep my composure, I was a giddy girl on the inside. He and Malcolm had a lot in common which made them click almost immediately which made tour life easy for all of us. 
“So,” I cleared my throat while staring back out toward the crowd. “Our final song is a new one and I’m so excited to perform it in front of all of you. Our new album White Noise will be released in a few months. It’s different than our first three but we promise that it’ll be worth it.” 
As the crowd clapped and cheered, I smiled. “My friends, thank you. This song is   called Eyelids.” 
As we began the song over the loud cheers of excitement, I let my eyes flutter shut as yet again, memories of mine and Noah’s night flashed in my mind. 
"Noah," I breathed while breaking apart from the kiss.
He buried his face into the crook of my neck to breathe me in. "Say it again."
I did, over and over like a mantra, as he left a mark on the skin of my neck while his hand switched to the other breast, mimicking his actions from before. The wetness that pooled between my legs was almost a new feeling, never been this turned on.
With one touch I could have sworn he entered my soul. As if my body was his key. He entered me and it fit, pun not intended. Not a thing of metal nor gold, Yet a sensation of love that came.
"I want to hear you," he left a gentle bit on the inside of my thigh
I used the small break-in lyrics to let out a deep breath, doing my best to remain centered so I could finish the rest of the song strong
Noah was in every aspect of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the song. 
His fingertips, his eyes, his lips on every inch of skin, or the way Noah steadied our breaths. “Breathe through it with me.” 
I did as he said, both of us breathing out my orgasm as our eyes locked intently with each other. I writhed against him, my arousal soaking the condom and parts of his hips. It was such a simple action but the way it set my body on fire intensified the aftershocks to something I'd never experienced. Noah stared down to the place where we met and with a noisy moan, he wrapped an arm tighter around me to pull me flush against his chest as his hips stilled for a second before he emptied himself inside the condom.
Through his sweet words and the resolution of my survival self to never let anyone else sit at my core. He was already there.
As the song ended and I thanked the crowd with a bow, I thought how relieved I was to discover my pure self. That this with Noah could be real love. There was no temptation to change because it was our real selves that bonded us. It is our real selves that each other loves.
That night, I walked away from him without listening to his pleas but now, we were different. We had grown together, for each other.  
Tonight, I vowed then and there under the bright lights of this stage that I’d stay.
I would always stay with Noah. 
“Kick ass show tonight, guys!” Joe cheered while giving us a round of high-fives. 
I smirked while whipping out my phone. “Thanks, Joe! Give me a few minutes and we can head to karaoke.” 
Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Whose time zone is it tonight?” 
“Mine” I smirked into my phone while I quickly typed out a message. 
 Me: I love you, mochi.
“Oh,” a hand with a rose tattoo waved in front of my face. “Who has you smiling like that?” 
Playfully narrowing my eyes at Joe, I stuck out my tongue at him. “Someone is nosy.” 
Just then a new message popped up and my heart fluttered when I saw Noah’s response. It was the same response for the last week but every time, my smile spread wide on my face. 
Mochi 🍡: I love you too, angel.
When I went to put my phone back into my pocket, it vibrated with a new message, this time it was a video from Noah of Salem lying on a couch, one I hadn’t seen before. 
“Salem, say hi to your mom. She misses you,” Noah’s voice came from the background. 
I broke out in an even bigger smile and giggled when my cat did not move, didn't even bat an eye as Noah scratched behind his ears. But the music playing in the background suddenly caught my attention. 
The lyrics sounded so familiar. 
“Gave you way too many chances but it wasn't enough.” 
I replayed the video a few more times to make sure. 
“No way,” I muttered, not paying attention to the conversation behind me with Joe, Malcolm, and Chase. 
I quickly sent a text to Noah. 
Me: Hi Salem baby! Mom misses you! Also, I hear something in the background. Is it..?
Mochi 🍡: He’s napping. He had a long day of playing outside. 
My brow peaked. 
Me: You took him outside?
Mochi 🍡: Don’t worry, angel. We had him on a harness and leash. He loved laying in the sun on the back patio. 
“Sweets, let’s go!” Chase called from behind. “The karaoke place closes in like an hour!” 
I waved him off before texting Noah back. 
Me: I trust you with him, Noah. But what’s that playing in the background of your video? 
He responded with another video and when his face graced my screen, my heart jumped into my throat. 
Fuck. Me. 
Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait for you to hear the final version. 
“Well, who’s that?” 
Joe peered over my shoulder causing me to jump slightly while clutching the phone close to my chest. 
“Geez, can’t a girl get some privacy?” I asked with flushed cheeks. 
The image of Noah in that video played in my mind on a fucking loop and I suddenly did not want to go out with the guys tonight. 
Joe raised a brow. “Oh, that’s him?” 
Malcolm looked between Joe and me, noticing how red my face was. “What the hell did Noah send you?” 
“No-nothing. Just a video of Salem,” I stammered at first but was quick to recover.  
Chase’s mouth parted to speak but soon his eyes turned dark, jaw clenching as he stared past me. 
“What’s wr-,” I didn’t get a chance to ask because an all too familiar voice crept deep into my bones, ripping me apart from the inside out.
“You still have that fucking cat?” 
My heart sunk low to the depths of my stomach and I let my eyes flutter shut, all the breath leaving my lungs. 
No. No. No. Please, not here. Not now.
“He can’t be,” I shook my head while keeping my eyes trained hard on Chase, doing my best to stay centered. 
Do as Dr. Poulos says; deep breath in for three seconds, long breath out for four seconds.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Malcolm spat while stepping in front of me. 
“I needed to come to check out the new Hollow Souls,” the deep voice chuckled darkly. 
I didn’t miss the venom in his words. 
But I never turned around, simply kept my gaze straight on Chase who still refused to look at me; his own hard gaze was trained on the man behind me. Joe noticed the sudden tension and rested a gentle hand on my elbow. 
“Y/N?” His words were white noise. 
I’m imagining this. He’s not here right now. There’s no way. 
“You looked good on that stage, baby. Although, I bet you’d look even better in the back of it.” 
No. No. No. 
A sharp whistle. “I know you hear me.” 
“What the hell are you doing here? Why are you here?” Chase’s voice was thick with anger. 
The voice that I spent so many days in therapy talking about let out a low scoff. 
“What? I came to see my protégé.” 
Malcolm pushed me towards Joe. “Can you take her back to our bus? We’ll be there soon.” 
I shook my head feverishly with tears brimming in my eyes, my back still to the one I refused to look at. 
“No. It’s not worth it. Please guys,” I begged while Joe wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Please come with me.” 
Chase’s eyes softened when he finally peered down at me. “It’ll be okay, sweets. We’re just going to talk; promise.” 
“Come on,” Joe urged my frozen state a few steps. 
Until that darkness pulled me back into the place I spent many days dragging myself out of. 
“Oh, it seems as if you’re back to your old ways. Fucking the opening act, huh? How does good ‘ol Noah feel about that?” Trey did the jerking-off gesture at Noah’s name.
“FUCK YOU!” I screamed as I spun on my heels, Joe’s arm falling away from me. “Don’t you dare say his name. You haven’t earned the right to talk about him!” 
Those cold eyes that I swore at one point I’d have a future with bore into my soul as he ran a hand through the curly locks on his head. Trey smirked wickedly at me. 
“I should call him up. Better yet,” He stuck a cigarette on his lips. “Maybe I’ll send him the video I took of you two ogling each other while you were on stage.” 
I took a step towards Trey but Malcolm held out his arm to stop me, only for me to push it away. 
“Go ahead! You have absolutely no fucking idea what you’re talking about. We should have had you fucking blacklisted,” my upper lip curled, barring my teeth. 
“Good luck, baby. My name gets me places, I can’t help it. Plus, I needed to come see my protege. Since I fucking made you,” Trey twirled his hand towards me with a snide smirk. 
“MADE ME?!” My eyes doubled as my voice roared through the dwindling venue as fans slowly took their time leaving. 
The stagehands and crew members paused their work to watch my outburst. 
I took a deep breath to center myself again, not wanting to create a scene right now when there were still so many prying eyes.  “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show. We’re doing fine without you.” 
Turning my back to him yet again, I allowed Joe to lead me away with a hand ghosting over my lower back; until Trey’s voice stopped me. 
“You’re so broken you don’t even trust yourself.”  
“Y/N,” Joe’s voice was soft as he shook his head. “It’s not worth it. Come-.” 
“Excuse me?!” I turned swiftly on my heels, hair whipping over my shoulder. 
Trey shrugged while reaching for a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You heard me.” 
I smacked his hand away, the noise echoing loudly backstage. “No. No, I don’t think I did. Say it again.” 
“You’re broken.” Now his hands were in his pocket, a lit cigarette hanging loosely on his lips. “That uh- that new song? That's about him, isn’t it? Where is he?”
Trey made a show of looking around backstage. “I don’t see him anywhere. Oh, let me guess. You demolished it right? ‘Cause we all know you can’t have a perfect thing without doing that.” 
My hands curled at my side, knuckles turning white from how hard my nails dug crescent moon shapes into my palm.  
“You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Trey! You never did and you don’t know a fucking thing about Noah, okay?”
“I don’t need to. I know enough,” Trey blew the smoke towards Malcolm. 
Before he could take a step towards him, Chase wrapped an arm around his chest to pull him away. 
“You know he has asthma, you piece of shit!” I pushed Trey hard in the chest. “No. No! No! You’re not going to do this.” 
“Do what? We both get off on hurting other people,” Trey snickered while taking a step toward me. “I tell you the fucking truth. You’re on the stage singing your pretty little lullabies and maladaptive daydreams because I let you! And you know what else? That little Sykes wanna be?” 
When he made the gesture of sucking a dick, I nearly gagged in my mouth at how disgusting and vulgar Trey actually was. 
Anger filled my veins as he continued to spew his venom. Every single thing Trey said was meant for one thing; to hurt and destroy. He’d spent years perfecting it and before, I’d swim in it. 
Now? Now I was different and I wasn’t afraid of standing up to him. 
“No! Shut the fuck up!” I ran a wild hand through my hair before pointing a finger at him. “You were such a poison that I should have avoided. Every single part of you. I thought you wanted to save me but in the end, all you did was break me!” 
Tears fell from my eyes and I was quick to wipe them away. I refused to cry in front of everyone; especially Trey. He didn’t get the privilege to break me. Not again. 
“How dare you reach out your hand? You said you loved me but acted like you hated me,” I choked on a sob. “I should have run but I didn’t.” 
Trey flicked the ashes on the ground at my feet with a fake pout on his lips but before he could say anything I pointed another finger into his chest causing him to stumble back.
“No! I have to get this off my chest! There’s more shit I have to say!” 
I could feel the proud smiles of Chase, Malcolm, and even Joe as they all flanked behind me. Not stepping in but still wanting to be close in case they needed to. 
“You’re not half the man you think you are! You’re not! You’re abusive, an addict, and I hated the way you would make me feel. Everything I did was under a constant microscope with you.” 
I began to list things on my fingers. “I couldn’t dress the way I wanted. I couldn’t talk to who I wanted. I couldn’t even fucking talk about things that I enjoyed because if it didn’t involve you, it wasn’t important. In the beginning, you needed to know my every single fucking move. But the one night you went out with your friends and I asked where you were going, you thought it would be funny to choke me!” 
“What the fuck?!” Chase roared while stepping up next to me. 
I placed a hand on his chest but kept my eyes on Trey. “I’ve outgrown you, I fell out of every trace of love and respect for you, Trey. I’ve moved fucking past you. Yes, in the beginning, I thought that maybe there might have been a chance for us. But you found yourself on drugs and nicotine. A hollow body like a figurine and I always felt like an accessory.” 
Joe turned his head towards me with a small smile on his lips. 
“Looking back now, I can see it. You always tried to put me in the background. I wasted so much fucking time on you and you wasted so much Hollow Souls time. You held us back for so long because you thought you knew what was best for us.”
A muscle in Trey’s jaw ticked. “I fucking made you. I made this band.” 
I rolled my eyes while crossing my arms over my chest. “Oh, please. Everyone knows that Hollow Souls was my idea. I was the one who asked Chase and Malcolm to join. I wrote the songs. I wanted to produce our songs but you immediately shot that idea down claiming it was too much work and not worth it.” 
Thankfully, it was long after our show ended and the main part of the venue had cleared out but there were still workers backstage as they tore down our equipment. They acted like they weren’t listening to our fight but I knew that with the glances our way every so often, they heard everything. 
“You always wanted to change shit that didn’t need to be changed,” he snarled. 
I held my arms out wide. “And look where I’m at? Every show on this tour is sold out. We had to upgrade to a bigger venue because of high demand.” 
“What?” Trey tossed his cigarette to the ground. “Do you want a fucking medal for that?” 
I stepped on the bud of the cigarette, stepping right up into Trey’s space. “You fucked with my head knowing that I couldn't take it and for that, I can't forgive you. I’ll never forgive you.” 
Chase waved over security as my final words relieved the weight that I didn’t know was on my shoulders. I thought that the last time I saw Trey I wouldn’t need to say my peace but saying it now, I felt as if I could breathe easier. 
“I don’t need you to forgive me, Y/N.” He scoffed. “Noah will never love you and that you won’t blame me for.” 
My lips twitched in a smile as I breathed through the last of my stray tears. “You’re wrong, Trey. He does love me, and I love him. You won’t disturb my peace anymore, never again. I’m moving on, and I’m happy. You should be sad, and truly I feel sorry for you.” 
I took a step back to stand in between Chase and Malcolm just as security snuck up behind Trey. 
“I hope you choke in your sleep while you're dreaming of me. I fucking hope when you suffocate in your sheets that I'll be the last thing you see. Goodbye, Trey,” 
My hands shook at my side, something that Joe noticed so he gave them a reassuring squeeze. 
One of the security guards grasped Trey’s elbow to drag him out but he ripped it from the guy's grasp. Trey eyed all four of us, his gaze lingering on me a few seconds longer than the others before he spat on the ground at my feet. 
The old me would have let that bother her. But the new me simply smirked as I watched security escort Trey out of the building. 
Ethan came up to us in haste as he looked back towards Trey. “What the fuck was he doing here?!” 
Malcolm made sure that Trey was out of sight then turned towards Ethan, pointing a stern finger at him. “Do whatever you can to get that piece of shit blacklisted from any Hollow Souls shows in the future.” 
“Bad Omens too,” I nodded firmly. 
Chase cupped my cheek. “Sweet, are you alright?” 
Through tears, I nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.”
“How do you feel?” He had a faint smile on his lips.
I gnawed on my bottom lip, really thinking about Chase’s question. 
Relief. 
This felt like a new wave of freedom. Something I’ve yet to experience in a long while. A new form. 
I looked back at my new friend and then at my brothers; my family.  Those who bring a sense of love into my life. We can make choices to care for the self and still be kind. I had so much to say to him. It felt good to release it- yet; still I killed him with kindness. Something he’d never dare show me.
You can care better for others from strength than weakness. 
At the expense of my own comfort. It’s a prudence with integrity that awaits the right moment to be brave. I felt brave. 
I was ready for my new beginnings.
Joe motioned behind me. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your bus.” 
While Malcolm and Chase hung back to talk more with Ethan about what happened I allowed Joe to lead me outside. The cool night air danced around me with a comforting touch and I let it ease my heated skin. As I made the walk towards where the bus was, Joe had other plans and dragged me to a bench at the back of the venue. 
“What?” I asked. 
“Sit.” When I didn’t move, Joe nodded to the bench behind me. “Sit down, Y/N. Take a breather. I can see the rage in your eyes and the vein in your neck is doing a weird twitch thing.” 
Instinctively, my hand went to my neck, rubbing at it, before sitting on the bench with a long breath; Joe doing the same. 
We let a long beat of silence fall between us and with the sudden breeze of cold air, I shivered and covered my bare arms suddenly wishing I didn’t wear the dress with skinny straps. 
“Cold?” Joe wondered. 
When I nodded, he handed over his jacket which I took gratefully. “I’ll make sure to give it back to you.” 
“Good,” he snorted playfully. “Because it’s my favorite.”
I chuckled while easing onto the bench, now warm. “About what happened inside with Trey-.”
Joe bumped his shoulder with mine. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ve been through something similar. I did love how you threw in lyrics from Clarity in Kerosene. ”
I rubbed my hands on my thighs, suddenly nervous. “Uh, yeah. Your album Reaper means a lot to me so it felt therapeutic in a way.” 
We sat for another long while, enjoying the quiet that shocked us for being in the middle of the city. It was in the middle of the night but neither of us was complaining. 
“It’s an honor doing this tour with you, Joe. I’ve been a fan for so long.” I smiled at him.
“Hey, the honor is all mine,” he ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile. “Hollow Souls has been on my playlist for a long time.”
A familiar memory of long ago crept into my mind of someone saying the same thing. 
“We're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows.”
 “Ya know, someone else told me the same thing the first time I met him,” I said with a warm smile. 
Joe’s brow peaked. “Yeah? Seems like I’ll have to meet this someone.” 
Noah flashed in my mind now; his infectious smile, his bright almond eyes, and the sound of his laughter made my heart flutter. Even though he was hundreds of miles away, our souls were always connected. It was as if he was sitting right here with me. I could feel the ghost of his hand on my thigh and his lips on mine. 
“I love you, angel,” those eyes glimmered as he watched me. 
“Hm,” I hummed while bumping my shoulder with Joe’s again. “Maybe someday.” 
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READER
As I stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying my long locks, I sighed in content and made work of getting ready. It was an off day but I had no plans, something I intended to keep so much so that I was dressed in a pair of Bad Omens joggers and a black crop top tank. My typical stay-home outfit. 
Just when I was about to load up my laptop to continue writing, there was a persistent knock on my hotel room door. It wasn’t Chase or Malcolm since they mentioned to me earlier that they were spending the day doing a joint interview and then getting something to eat. 
Some would think it was weird that I wasn’t going to an interview with them but Hollow Souls were all for doing our own separate interviews or joint. I did my fair share of solo ones, the same with Chase and Malcolm. I actually had one planned in a few days so I wasn’t too upset about skipping out on this one today. 
“Joe?” I asked while leaning against the open door. “What’s up?” 
He smiled while giving me a once-over. “Good, you’re dressed. Grab your things and let’s go.” 
“Go where?” My brows furrowed. 
“We’re not going to waste the day away inside. I have our whole afternoon planned,” Joe adjusted his hat. 
“You do, huh?” I chuckled while leaving him on the threshold of the open door so I could grab my things, not wanting to forget the small camera I brought along for this tour, and slipped on a pair of white Converse.
With the door closed behind me, I let Joe lead me toward the elevator where we waited for it. 
“There’s this sunflower field I was thinking we could check out,” Joe said. 
“That sounds nice,” I smiled while we both stepped into the elevator. 
“Hilary sent it to me this morning and said it would be a great place to clear your head with what happened last night,” he informed. 
“Did you tell her-?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek as the elevator descended. 
Joe quickly shook his head. “Nope. I only mentioned how you needed to clear your head.” 
“Thank you,” I breathed when the doors opened. 
For the next few hours, Joe and I enjoyed the peacefulness of the sunflower field. We laughed, we joked, and he told me about his life growing up as I did the same. He also told me about an ex of his that messed him up mentally causing him to hide away for a year. 
“I had to cancel shows because the depression and panic attacks were so bad I had to seek treatment,” Joe said as we neared the end of the sunflower maze. “I went to hospitals, sat with monks in Buddhist temples, and went to therapy. I was so mad that someone took years out of my life.” 
I smiled solemnly. “I understand what that’s like.”
“Therapy told me that I need to stop hating the world and hating myself. I found someone who showed me what love is and I’ll forever be grateful for her,” Joe said. 
“She sounds like a lovely person, Joe. I’m glad you were able to find your happy ending.”
We came to a stop in front of a large patch of sunflowers with him a few spaces in front of me. 
“Hey,” I called after him, beckoning him to turn around so I could take a picture of him. 
His black hood was pulled over his hat and a small bag crossed over his chest. Although he didn’t smile on his lips, I could see it in his eyes. 
“It seems like you found your own happy ending,” Joe noted. 
My cheeks burned as I waved him off. “Oh, no. Not yet. We’re not official.” 
“But you text each other every night at 10 o'clock to say I love you?” 
“It’s-,” I pursed my lips while looking around the field. “Complicated”. 
Being in an open field like this, the breeze blowing through my hair, made me remember the last time I was in a place of solace like this. 
Earlier that day. 
"Noah?" I asked while looking up at him through lashes.
"Yes, angel?"
"You have a cute nose," my voice was quiet. 
Noah tilted his head to the side. "My nose?"
"Yeah. It's just the perfect size for your facial structure," I booped his nose. 
"Did-did you just boop my nose?" Noah chuckled with a scrunched face.
"See!" I pointed to him. "You look so fucking cute; it's insane."
"Angel, literally.” 
"Mochi, literally," I mocked while sticking out my tongue. 
Joe’s soft voice brought me out of the memory and I blinked at me. “Hm, I’m sorry. Did you say something?” 
“Do you want to be with Noah?” He asked his question again while gripping the strap of his bag. 
“More than anything,” I answered without missing a beat. 
He shrugged. “Then what’s holding you back?” 
I licked my lips while shifting on my feet. “It’s not as easy as you think. After that party, so much happened and things were said that I can’t exactly forget. I was hurt and needed time away.” 
“So you just left?” 
Hearing the reality of what I did from someone else made the guilt eat away at my insides and my heart sunk low. 
“I needed to get my head together,” I defended while adjusting the black beanie on my head. 
“Do you guys even talk? Besides the usual 10 p.m. texts?” Joe asked. 
Not wanting to speak, I shook my head with a long breath. 
“Y/N, this might not be my place, but that wasn’t very fair of you to do that.”
I bit my lip, not trying to snap at Joe because all he was doing was being a good friend; something I needed. 
“My therapy session is tomorrow. I didn’t need it today,” I sighed while running my hands up and down my thighs. 
“My friend, you do,” Joe snorted. “Why are you so afraid of committing to this?” 
I played with the string of my joggers, really mewling over his question. Noah and I moved past all the bullshit and we’re ready to finally be together. So what was I so afraid of?
With a wobbly lip, I let out a shaky breath and met Joe’s eyes. “I just don’t want to disappoint him, I don’t want him to ever feel like I don’t support him or something.”
He squeezed my arm. “I don’t think you can. If you’re both more than aware that you’re human beings, Y/N.” 
“Understandable,” I nodded. “But I don’t want him to know how flawed I can be.” 
“It’s vital to face hard facts and choose to be present, honest, and mindful of what’s happening in the life of your relationship. You guys aren’t even official yet and you’re worrying about shit that you don’t need to.”
Birds chirping were muted by the sudden commotion of a group of people arriving at the sunflower patch but neither Joe nor I moved from the end of the maze we finished a while ago.
“You’re not robots, Y/N.” He began. “Erase any confusion or doubt surrounding your needs so you can learn to powerfully communicate your needs. You both need to talk. Get it out of yourselves, don’t curl up with shit alone. Don’t do that to him. Don’t assume the worst about him, especially when you haven’t even discussed things properly.” 
I crossed my arms over my chest while shifting all of my weight to one foot. “I never even noticed. In hindsight, I thought I was doing something validating. Turns out I hurt him numerous times, and he still did nothing but try to love me. Even when I wasn’t perfect. I left him alone in that hotel room because things became to real. I left him the night of the party because we both admitted we love each other. And I do. I love him, Joe. I love him so much. I want us to work. But I don’t understand why I keep leaving him. I don’t want it; I just do.” 
Joe gave me a warm smile. “I know, Y/N. You should talk to your therapist about this. I think she can give you more insight than I can offer but just know I understand. You need to approach Noah and this relationship with a loving spirit, believing that he will love you and we want to satisfy you in every way. That he is deserving of your love and kindness even if things feel too good to be true. Feel it out, you’re probably that good of a fit.”
I playfully rolled my eyes. “Joe, I don’t need another therapist.”
He snorted. “No, you don’t, but I’d like to think I’m your friend and I’m telling you, that doing this to someone you love isn’t fair. Noah deserves to communicate with you too. I haven’t met the guy or seen the two of you together but from what you told me I already know.  He fucking loves you, Y/N.”
“I love him too, so fucking much, okay? I do,” I admitted with tears in my eyes. 
“I’m not saying you don’t/. I don’t know everything but, from my experience and what I’ve learned, shit like this can ruin a perfectly good relationship because we simply don’t tell ourselves the truth.”
I cocked my head to the side confused. “Truth about what?” 
“About why you’re subconsciously running,” Joe said. “You’re scared shitless and this avoidance can lead to procrastination that delays dealing with damaging stressors on or within your relationship. It did until the pipe finally burst at the birthday party.” 
“Should I be paying you by the hour?” I joked with a small chuckle.
“If you want to,” he snorts. “No, but come on. If you want him to be there for you, to be your everything, then you have to give half as well.” 
“I know. I want to. I’ve been feeling so sick lately without him.” 
It was true. 
Noah and I seemed to have been brought together by this unknown force. The universe? Maybe: we didn’t believe in high powers, yet also knew we weren’t alone. 
Staggered over weeks, months, or years. In this time the pain of our separation was an act as a focusing lens. The point was to give each other time to see the purity of our love, to be sure that there can be only one lover for this lifetime. 
Seems silly, especially in this era. Yet, it’s how I feel. I just know.
I get almost neurotic to my knees. I know that I must get enough sleep. He made a sham of my pain. I feel like I blew a hole in my heart with an ice-cold magnum. 
Why, when he’s not around I feel lonely when there’s company around. I’m not lost, but I have been found. That level of emotional indifference is not a mark of superiority, but the reverse. I was always worth more, I just needed to educate myself as to how and why.
It hit me. My body yearned for the other half of me.  The lovers who are right for one another take away the other pain naturally, by virtue of who they are the strength of their loving bond.
I couldn’t wait to embrace him again.
Joe peered over his shoulder, noticing a group of people slowly reaching us so he motioned for me to start walking in step with him. “Of course you do. It’s like half of your entire body is ripped apart and begging for the other half back.”
I smacked his arm. “Yes, exactly like that! Even though we’re far apart from each other right now, I still know subconsciously what he’s doing without actually knowing.”
“Exactly. So you two need to talk together about what you’re facing. Discuss the realities and your key concerns. Listen to each other and reflect on what you hear for optimal understanding. Be curious and open-minded concerning each other’s ideas and solutions for relief and change. If you love him, meet him in the middle like you’re saying in the song, Y/N. Don’t just use words, act too.”
We reached the rental car and Joe leaned against the driver's door. “What do you want this song to do; to say?” 
My forehead creased as I put deep thought into Joe’s question. “I think I want to expose the vulnerability. I’m kind of like star light. Maybe it can guide the way to the ones who must travel by night. The ones who don’t know that there is something special waiting for you if you keep pushing forward.” 
Joe bumped his fist with mine. “I love that, a reminder for people. However, it’s not just about that.”
“No, no it isn’t,” I chuckled. “It’s special that we aren't so different, him and I. Somehow together we are balanced. As yin and yang, but a perfect match. All I want is for him to ask me to stay again, and I’ll always say yes.”
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JOE
The conversation between Malcolm and Chase was muted as we sat at the hotel restaurant, my food going cold a while ago. After my afternoon with Y/N at the sunflower field with our conversation and everything that happened last night, something was weighing heavy on my mind. 
Malcolm must have sensed it because he waved a hand in front of my face. “Everything alright?” 
My eyes snapped up towards him and I nodded. “Oh yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m just reflecting on that whole interaction last night. 
Chase hummed while resting an arm over the back of Malcolm’s chair. “We’re sorry Trey pulled you in the middle of it.”
“It’s fine but he’s a fucking piece of work,” I said. 
Malcolm took a long drink of his beer. “Yeah. He’s always been a piece of shit. It was like that for fucking years. Trey tried to dictate everything she did. What the band did. He was off doing what he wanted when he wanted. Y/N would fall into it time after time until-.” 
“Til Noah?” I asked with a hint of a smile. 
“Yeah,” Chase spoke next. “Have you  ever heard of Bad Omens?”
“I’ve heard their name and listened to a couple of their songs. But I’ve never seen his face until recently,” I said. 
“Did he send her a dirty photo?!” Malcolm’s eyes widened. 
“No!” I shook my head with a chuckle. “Y/N showed me a picture of him in braids.” 
“Oh, that picture,” Chase snorted. 
I continued again. “Noah has a great range and a good ear; talented guy. He seems crazy about Y/N from what she said.”
“Oh, he is. Shit, he’s over the fucking moon and back and everything fucking else. They have some otherworldly shit going on.” 
“Oh yeah? Think so?” I asked Malcolm. 
He shared a look with Chase, both of them smiling. “We know so. Noah made her fucking smile again. Laugh in a way we hadn’t heard in so long. He gave her confidence when she desperately needed it. Y/N became herself again. It’s been so beautiful to watch her hatch from the sick cocoon she was in. Last night was a terrific example. We’re so proud of her.”
“Yeah, that was something; the way she stood up to him. She kicked his ass. I may not have been around or anything for long, but that was awesome to see. I’d like to talk to Noah about it.”
Chase and Malcolm shared yet another look, the former's brows raised as he looked at me.
“You want Noah’s number? That’s a bit random, no?” 
“I just want to formally introduce myself,” I assured them. “To let him know how Y/N was last night and how awesome your record is.” 
“Is that all you want to let him know? Or do you want to make sure Noah knows that you’re not a threat? Because he knows you aren’t. And he also knows that Trey hasn’t come near her,” Malcolm reassured me. 
“No, it’s not even about that,” I leaned forward on the table to rest my arms on it. “I want to keep him in the loop, I have a feeling they’re still working out this what do I say or not say phase. Y/N’s become a friend now, and I’d like to also reach out my hand so he knows things are cool on our end.” 
I shrugged. “Plus, Noah deserves to know how badass she is and that she can take care of herself.”
After dinner, on my way back up to my hotel room, I had my phone in my hand as I worked out the message to Noah. 
Me: Hey Noah, this is Joe. I got your number from Chase and Malcolm. This is a little awkward but I wanted to introduce myself. I’ve actually listened to your band- you’re really talented! The acoustic version of If I’m There was killer, seriously. 
Now in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed to send another text. 
Me: I’m texting you because I’m sure you saw the video of what happened with Trey and Y/N. I will firstly say, she’s fucking awesome! And I’m honored to be on this tour with her and the guys. Incredible musicians and incredible people. Gearing back to the whole Trey situation, he showed up out of nowhere; but I feel it’s important to let you know, at least from my side, that Y/N kicked ass. She stood up for herself and I could see she felt a world of relief.
Only a few minutes went by when Noah texted back. 
Noah Sebastian: Hey Joe, it’s Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you as well. Y/N has been a huge fan of yours for a long time. She was stoked about this tour, and yes she is awesome. Y/N’s special to a lot of us. She’s a genuine person and has a heart of gold; Chase and Malcolm as well. I appreciate your kind words. That means a lot. You know how it is- especially in this industry. And I did see the video, unfortunately. You were there?
I quickly responded to Hilary’s text before typing out my reply to Noah. 
Me: In case she needed support.
Noah Sebastian: Right, thank you for that. I hated what Trey said, I wish I could have stopped it myself but I also know how important it was for Y/N to have closure. I’m so fucking proud of her. 
I let out a loud laugh when I saw the meme Y/N sent me but swiped away the message for right now, continuing to text Noah. 
Me: You should be proud. She’s awesome and she’s over the moon about you. From what I’m told you really lit a fire inside her, and that seems to be shining through. My partner did that for me when I found her and I’m sure it’s the same for you as well. So I just wanted to pass this along and formally introduce myself. I’m sure Y/N will bring this up to you but I wanted to show you how I saw it on my end. I hope we can meet soon.
Me: Oh, also. Hollow Souls new record is going to be sick. What they’ve been working on is sounding great.
I busied myself the next long while getting myself packed since we were planning on leaving in a few hours to head to the next city. Once finished, I realized that Noah texted me back almost instantly after I sent the last text. 
Noah Sebastian: For sure! Thank you so much. I wish I could be there. But, I understand it’s not the right time. I do hope soon we can chill at my place to shoot the shit. Thank you again for sending me a text. Very kind of you and I’m sure we’ll talk soon. I can’t wait to hear her new album. We’re all very stoked about it. We’re also close to releasing our record, I’d love for you to check it out! 
Me: Hell yes!
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READER
“And if you and I can make it through the night,” I hummed while sitting in my bunk on the tour bus. 
My laptop was perched in my lap as I loaded up Zoom, clicking on Dr. Poulos’ contact. It wasn’t our usual appointment day or time but with what happened the other day, I felt as if I needed an emergency session. It wasn’t because of the negative parts but for the first time in a long while, I felt good. My spirits were high and nothing could wipe the smile from my face. 
“Well someone seems like they’re in good spirits today.” Dr. Poulos’ voice sang through my speakers. 
Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she had black glasses perched high on her nose. 
“I am actually,” I smiled, the kind of smile that made the corner of your eyes crinkle. 
She tilted her head. “Care to elaborate?”
I began telling her the entire story of Trey and my afternoon with Joe from top to bottom; from that night up until now. 
“I’m very proud of you, Y/N for standing up for yourself and closing that chapter in your life. And Joe seems like he’s becoming a great friend in the aspect of telling you things you need to hear.” 
“Yeah, he is.” I nodded. 
Although I was in high spirits before this meeting, something shifted in my brain and I began to stare at the keyboard of my laptop. 
“What’s the matter Y/N? You’re slipping into disassociating thought,” Dr. Poulos’ voice brought me back.  
“Nothing,” I had a tight lip smile. 
“Y/N,” she warned. “We’ve talked about this; you need to be open and transparent.”
Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh. “Okay, well-.” 
When she motioned me on with a nod, I continued. “How- fuck this is embarrassing. How do I stop running away?” 
“Do you grasp that’s what you’ve been doing to Noah?” 
“I do,” I admitted. “But it hasn’t been intentional. I love him, I’m- I just don’t want to become my parents.”
Dr. Poulos’ gave me a small smile. “It’s great that you’re seeking to address this pattern. Building healthy relationships often involves understanding and addressing the root causes of our behaviors.” 
“I’m trying.” 
“It might be helpful to reflect on past experiences and identify any underlying fears or insecurities that may be contributing to your tendency to run away from relationships,” she adjusted her glasses. 
“I know it’s my mother, I know it is. Noah seemed to know it too since he was there that day she reamed into me,” I said. 
Her eyes lit up. “Yes, I remember that day. You were very grateful for him being there weren’t you?” 
“More than anything. He’s my safety when I feel like I have none,” I answered. 
“That’s wonderful Y/N. In Addition, I suggest practicing self-care, setting boundaries, and communicating openly with Noah as your partner, rather than your friend, which can help build a foundation for more fulfilling and lasting connections. I remember you telling me you finally admitted your love for each other,” Dr. Poulos couldn’t hold back the wide smile on her face now. 
“Yes. I do, I do love him and I don’t want to do anything to hurt him. Noah’s already so hard on himself with everything.  I don’t want to be one more thing he’s hard on himself about. I want to help, be his escape, and his safe haven. I want him to trust I’ll stay because I want to; I will always stay.” 
She wrote something down in her journal before resting her chin in her hand as she looked back at me through her screen. “I know, Y/N. You’ve spoken about this often.  Seeking support in this form can also provide valuable insights and strategies for breaking this pattern. I believe the two of you can and you won’t run.”
I ran a hand through my hair, the length becoming a big annoyance lately. “You know so much about this, Dr. Poulos. I don’t know the first thing. I want to be able to communicate with him. Not do what I have been doing.” 
“Y/N, it’s normal. It’s critical that before you speak to Noah, you suspend any assumptions or conclusions that put you at odds with him. You absolutely need to approach him by making a generous assumption; and by giving him the benefit of the doubt. This is what it means to be a team, even when you’re feeling distant. You keep loving even when you are feeling as if you are unloveable. You’re not going to do what you did with Trey.”
“Trey.” 
His name still tasted bitter on my tongue. 
“Yes,” Dr. Poulos nodded. “You got your closure on that chapter. Now this is a new one.
“I can’t shake the fear sometimes. The fear of the feeling coming at me all at once and messing it up,” I shifted in my bunk. 
“What I suggest doing when you are feeling upset or angry is to own your emotions and realize that they stem from your interpretation of the situation, not from the facts of the situation. Your fears and deep-seated beliefs about your own sense of inadequacy, unworthiness, or unlovability often lie at the root of all those negative stories you tell yourself about why life is happening the way that it is.”
“Woah,” I blinked. “That’s-uh-a great observation.”
Dr. Poulos narrowed her eyes at me while steepling her fingers under her chin. “I have an assignment for you.”
“Oh, come on! You know how busy I already am,” I joked with a wave of my hand.
She let out a soft giggle. “Yes, well, this will be fairly simple.”
“Take a moment to challenge your assumptions, and allow the possibility that something completely different could be true. Like that, you are loved! And that with patience and respectful communication, you can experience something exceptional with Noah. You said his album is coming out soon, this party could be a great way to try this. Have you thought about going?”
“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said without missing a beat. 
“Wonderful Y/N, see this as an opportunity to vulnerably share something about yourself with Noah, be curious so that you, through this experience, can learn something with him, too.”
I’d be the first one to admit that at first, therapy wasn’t something I thought I needed. It was a waste of time to talk about my feelings with someone who didn’t understand. But right now, I was eating my words. 
“Joe was right,” I said after a few beats of silence. 
“About?” Dr. Poulos shook her head with confusion. 
“Discussing this further with you, thank you it helps,” I ended our session with a large smile. 
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READER
“Not to be overly dramatic. I just think it's best. 'Cause you can't miss what you forget.” Joe sang into the microphone. 
I sat in my spot on the couch in the interview space, watching and singing along with a bright smile. 
“So, let's just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant,” he finished the song with a long breath. 
I, along with the interviewer, Jackson, clapped as Joe took a seat next to me on the couch. 
“That was phenomenal. We appreciate you being here with us,” Jackson beamed. 
My phone buzzed in my lap and with a glance downward, I felt my face warm at the name. 
Mochi 🍡: You look phenomenal, angel. 
“Thank you,” Joe nodded with a faint smile. “I’m sure I can speak for Y/N that we’re both glad to be here.” 
“It seems like the tour is going pretty well. Every show is sold out. How does that feel for you, Joe? I know Hollow Souls are used to this feeling,” Jackson said while fixing his notes, not looking at me. 
I tilted my head to the side, tongue brushing over my bottom lip. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
He finally looked my way and shrugged. “It's just that Hollow Souls is already pretty popular. You guys are used to playing in front of a sold-out crowd.”
“Are you saying that nothing, nowhere isn’t? Or did you forget that his last headlining tour had three back-to-back sold-out shows?” I questioned with a raised brow.  
“Well,” Jackson shifted in his chair across from us and looked at Joe. 
He merely ran a hand through his hair. “Number one fan.” 
“So,” Jackson cleared his throat. “Everyone online is begging me to ask you two this but what’s the dating situation? There’s so much chemistry between the two of you in the behind-the-scenes clips you guys post on Instagram. Everyone wants to know; are you two dating?” 
Joe and I shared a look then I made a show of rolling my eyes while crossing my legs. “Just because a male and female artist tour together, doesn't mean they’re dating.”
My phone buzzed again but this time, I opened the message to read it fully. 
Mochi 🍡: Tell him who’s boss, angel. You know who you belong to.
I cleared my throat while setting my phone screen down in my lap just in time for Joe to speak. 
“No, no. I’m spoken for.”
Jackson looked at me. “Y/N?”
“That’s my name, yes. Do you have a question about Hollow Souls or the tour?” I said with slight venom in my voice. 
Typically I didn’t mind interviews but every once in a while, I’d get an asshole of an interviewer that asked all the wrong kinds of questions. 
“Video surfaced online that Trey was at the show a few nights ago and it looked like the two of you were having an intense conversation. Is there a chance he’s joining Hollow Souls again?” 
My face twitched as something inside of me burned. I leaned towards Jackson with narrowed eyes. 
“Here’s what we’re not going to do; we’re not gonna focus on my love life, or personal life. I make art, not headlines. I’m cool because I'm me, and my band is cool. The art is what’s the focus, not anything else. I do feel as if people need to understand that having a private life is my right. I don’t feel comfortable sharing every aspect. Like I said, I make art, not headlines.” 
“That’s a bold statement to make. It comes with the whole fame territory,” Jackson tried to joke. 
“I refuse to allow this time in my life to be touched, tainted, or bastardized by anyone,” I finished while crossing my arms over my chest. 
While Jackson changed his direction and tone of questions towards Joe for the next couple of minutes, I bounced my knee as the anger continued to fest low in my gut until another text came in. 
Mochi 🍡: Fuck I love when you put douchebags in their place. You’re so sexy, angel. Fuck. I’m going to think about you bossing me around all night.
A hot flash of arousal took over every inch of me as I shifted in my spot on the couch, clenching my thighs together to curb the itch that burned there. 
“Everything alright?” Joe wondered when he saw the warmth on my cheeks. 
I cleared my throat. “Yep. Totally fine.” 
It would be so easy to call Noah to have our first phone sex but the thought of messing with him later sounded more fun.
“So, Y/N. I’d love to know what the future of Hollow Souls looks like?” Jackson questioned with a different tone. 
“See? It’s not that hard to ask questions that actually matter,” I teased with a smile. “But I don’t think we found ourselves because we always knew we wanted this style and this direction but we never really had the confidence to do that.” 
“With this record though, we finally have the assurance to know that we can make it work.”
“Is there inspiration behind this new album?” Jackson wondered. 
“I've always been really inspired by dark things and the supernatural for some reason. Ghosts, paranormal stuff, death, anger, sadness.” 
I gave pause when I realized that this wasn’t exactly a happy inspiration. 
“Well, anything that’s not happy basically inspires me, which sounds kinda messed up,” I admit with a laugh. 
“A lot of the new record, I wrote when I was having a really bad time mentally. I don’t like calling it depression but it seemed like that and I couldn’t pinpoint what my issues were, or what was wrong with me but I knew there was something wrong.” 
Joe watched with a proud smile and I knew that there were a few others back home watching with their own proud smile; my heart could feel it. 
“My problems weren’t tangible things, they weren’t things I could see or explain to people so in a way it was like they were ghosts or spirits that were haunting me,” I continued. 
Jackson rubbed his chin. “Why do you think that is?” 
I pursed my lips, thinking about my answer deeply. “I think a lot of people are afraid to put it out there and talk about it but we weren’t. I think that might be a big reason people have connected to the songs that have been released so far. I feel like for anyone who’s sharing feelings of topics like that, it’s a little bit scary but I feel it's more therapeutic and cathartic to write about that stuff, to talk about that stuff and put it out there. You feel better about it. To know that other people can connect to that makes you feel even better. As scary as it at first, it eventually just pays off and turns out to be good in the end.”
“Why do you think people can relate to it?” 
I shrugged. “I guess because our new album is pretty raw and honest. There’s a lot of topics people can relate to and I think it sounds pretty great, if I do say so myself. We’re pretty proud of it.”
Jackson leaned into his chair. “I would like to jump back to the haunting aspect of this album. Can you elaborate on what exactly is haunting you, if you don’t mind.” 
We’d be here all day if I did and frankly, it wasn’t his or anyone who was watching business. 
“I’m becoming a very private person as of late so I don’t need to go into the personal aspects of my life. Just know I’m moving past things, and I’m very content. Dare I say happy with where the future will be.”
Jackson nodded. “Fair enough. Would you say you’re hopeful for what the future will bring?” 
With a bright smile, I looked directly at the camera that had been pointed at us the entire time and winked. 
“Oh yes, more than hopeful.” 
Later on that night, when I was in the solace of the bathroom of the tour bus, I wore the skimpy red lace teddy I bought earlier. The necklace and bracelet glinted under the dim light as I extended my arm to take a variety of pictures; the sly smirk never leaving my lips. 
With four different pictures attached, I quickly typed out a message to Noah right on the dot at 10 p.m. 
Me: You were bold to text me earlier like that, mochi, I could barely contain myself. Here’s a little payback. Hope you’re all flustered and bothered, whatever you’re doing I suppose will have to wait. Dream of me. I love you.
Almost instantly, Noah texted back as I was swiftly changing into my pajamas for the evening. What I thought was one text became four right after the other. 
Mochi 🍡: Matt’s right next to me, angel. What if he saw this?
Mochi 🍡: fuck, my dick is throbbing right now but I can’t do shit about it. Consider this my karma.
Mochi 🍡: I can’t stop staring at the picture. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Beautiful. A true definition of an angel. 
Mochi 🍡: I’m going to call you in a little bit. I need to hear your voice. I need it. 
Switching off the bathroom light, I walked across the narrow hallway to climb into my bunk and under the covers
Me:  I’m going to bed early tonight. Maybe we can talk on the phone tomorrow. I love you.
By the time Noah responded, I was already in a peaceful, dark slumber.
Mochi 🍡: Fuck, I love you too angel. So fucking much. 
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READER
"Wait," Joe shook his head at us. "You guys do this after every tour?" 
Malcolm nodded as he held the door open for all of us. "Every tour. It's become a Hollow Souls tradition."
As we all crowded into the small tattoo shop’s lobby, Joe's eyes brightened with the realization. 
“Oh, so that's why you got the tattoo of the anime character on your ankle.” 
"Yep, I smiled brightly. "Noah and I got them together on my birthday." 
The buzzing was loud in the tattoo shop as I waved at the owner who had no problem staying open late for us tonight. We finished the tour strong tonight with a hype crowd and with the adrenaline still buzzing through us, we decided to get the tattoos as soon as we left the venue. 
Joe shifted on his feet while running a hand through his hair. “You’re positive you want to get the Reaper album art tattooed?”
"This album helped me through some dark times in my life. I need to do it, especially with what happened last week. It’ll be a great way to remember a great tour and the new friend I made,” I answered while bumping his shoulder with mine. 
After we all checked in and waited, Chase ruffled my hair. “It’s almost 10 p.m LA time, sweets.”
"Shit!" I cursed while quickly whipping out my phone from my pocket. "I can't believe I almost missed it!"
Me: I love you, Mochi. Last night of tour went off without a hitch. Currently getting our typical tattoos. I can’t wait to show you what I get. 
I sat on the bed, exposing my left thigh to the artist after she laid down the stencil, and struck up a conversation with everyone as I waited for Noah to respond. Surprisingly, tonight it took him a long while to text back which made my mind wander to what he was up to. My heart didn’t ache and my stomach wasn’t filled with nerves which meant it wasn’t anything terrible. 
After my risque picture I sent him the other day, we never had the chance to talk on the phone, but I knew that it still affected him because any chance he could, Noah would send me risque texts throughout the day.
“Thank fuck,” I breathed when my phone buzzed next to me. 
Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait to see it, angel. Also, sorry it took me so long to respond. I may have taken Salem to the pet store to spoil him with a few things. I hope you know I plan on keeping him for a bit once you’re back home. Mal said you guys will be busy in the studio so no need for Salem to be home alone. I love you too, angel. 
“I would ask who has you smiling like that but it’s pointless. There’s only one person who can do that,” Malcolm snorted while his artist wrapped up his tattoo. 
I stuck out my tongue at him. “Noah told me he took Salem shopping.” 
Chase rolled his eyes playfully. “And you say he’s not Salem’s dad yet.” 
Before I could set my phone down, another message came through; one I read with a fast beating heart. 
Nick R : February 23, 2022. 929 Angelus Street. Turn Right on Luna Ave. Overnight valet is already handled. No, Noah doesn’t know when to expect you. Don’t be late, Cinderella.
Nick R: The theme is red. I think you know why. Do with that what you will.
Oh shit, that was in just over two weeks. Which meant I needed a dress. And new shoes. A new hairstyle wouldn’t hurt either. 
With a smile, I responded back to Nick. 
Me: We will be there! Unlike Cinderella, I have no intention of losing my shoe and missing my Prince Charming.
Nick R: Oh good! We are merely the mice. 
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CHASE
I grumbled under my breath as I scrubbed out the fresh red paint out of the dining room carpet. How many times have I told her to put a damn drop down? Y/N’s lucky I know my way around cleaning supplies and know how to get a stain out. 
Malcolm clicked his tongue against his teeth as he leaned against the wall, staring down at me as I continued to scrub on my hands and knees. 
“I must say, I love this sight of you. On your knees.” 
I snapped my eyes up at him. “Not fucking funny, Mal.” 
“I think she’ll be really excited for what Noah has planned,” he noted. 
“Oh she’s gonna lose it! In the best way,” I agreed while continuing to scrub. 
 “I think so too.” Malcolm placed a kiss on my lips before sauntering into the kitchen to get things ready for dinner. “How long do you think Y/N will be?” 
“Not sure,” I ran a hand over my buzzed head then threw in the towel; literally. 
“You know how she is when she’s let loose in the art supply store. I’d be shocked if she made it back before dinner,” I continued while hopping up on the counter. 
Malcolm began setting out the variety of ingredients and I reached for my phone next to me. 
Me: Noah, beware of paint all over the carpet.
Noah S: Already taken care of.
I showed Malcolm the text to which he smirked. “Did we expect anything less from him?”
Me: Good. Because even though I love her to the ends of the earth, paint is a fucking bitch to clean. 
Malcolm handed me a beer, one I took with a kiss of thanks, and slowly nursed it as Noah texted me back. 
Noah S: Here’s the address. I would love it if you and Malcolm come check it out. 
Me: Definitely. Let's plan for Friday?
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READER
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes locked on the things scattered all over the counter, I found myself dissociating into thoughts of earlier today when we were in the studio. We had one last song to record before we started the final touches but this song was the most important. It needed to be perfect. 
I needed to be perfect. 
Which is why 
“Sweets you’ve gone over the verse we can meet in the middle at least ten times now. I think it’s good.”
Chase reassured me as I came out of the vocal booth with a scrunched up face. I did not like how my voice sounded which prompted me to do vocal take after vocal take. 
I fell to the couch in between him and Malcolm. “I need this to be perfect. I hate how my voice is sounding. It can’t sound like this. It can’t.” 
“It sounds amazing, Y/N! I promise,” Malcolm said. 
“I just-,” I ran a hand through my long hair and groaned. “This is so important to me. I want him to know I’m here. And I’m not going to leave him.”
“Noah knows sweets, he knows. He’s so stoked for this record. You know he’ll love it.”
I tossed my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, exhausted with the length. I needed my neck to breathe. It felt as if I was suffocating under the weight of it. 
“Fucking hormones,” I eventually chuckled while wiping tears from my eyes. 
Malcolm gave me a weak smile while rubbing my back. “Any pain today?” 
“A little but not much. It’s bearable.” I informed them. 
Chase nodded while squeezing my knee. “Ok, if you need a break let us know. Don’t push yourself too much. You sound beautiful.”
Salem jumped on the counter, breaking me from my thoughts, and immediately I brought him up in my chest. His green eyes stared up at me in wonder and maybe a little bit of confusion with what he saw.
“Did you have fun with Noah?” I missed you so much,” I cooed. 
Noah dropped him off while we were in the studio, us just missing each other by mere minutes. 
My fingers scratched at Salem’s neck, now realizing the bright red collar and new tag. 
“Oh, dad did in fact spoil you while I was gone. New collar, new tag, a bunch of new sushi toys. Not to mention the bed that can fit a 20 pound dog,” I chuckled. 
My shoulders went rigid when I realized what I just said. 
Dad. 
I just called Noah Salem’s dad. 
Swallowing thickly at the acceptance, I then looked at the new tag and felt my heart jump into my throat; heat spreading from the tips of my toes to my scalp.
Oh my heart. 
Salem Sebastian-L/N. 
And on the front of the tag were symbols I’d never seen before. “Huh, that's weird. What’s with the yin yang and eye symbol?” 
Biting my lip, I set Salem down on the counter and picked up my phone instead, quickly dialing the number I had memorized so long ago. 
Noah picked up after the second ring. “Hi, angel.” 
I twirled a piece of fresh hair around my finger while leaning against the counter. 
“Salem Sebastian-L/N huh?” 
A quick beat of silence. “Yeah. Figured he needed a collar with his full name. I think he likes me, he was quite needy. Is that alright?”
“Definitely alright, mochi,” I smiled into the phone. “Do the symbols have any meaning?
“You’ll know soon, angel.”
“Okay then. Keep your secrets,” I groaned. 
Noah’s infectious laughter made my stomach flip. “Will do, Frodo.” 
“I think we are due for a Lord of the Rings marathon soon. You down?” I bit the inside of my cheek, hopeful for his answer. 
“Always down, especially with you.”
I did my best to hide my excitement and was thankful Noah wasn’t here to see the way I jumped on the soles of my feet. “Wonderful.” 
There was a long comfortable silence before his rich voice came through the speaker. 
“I miss you. I love you.” 
I played with my necklace. “I miss you too, Noah. I love you.” 
“We’ll talk later?”
It was now him who had the hopeful tone. 
“Always,” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. 
“Okay.”
I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Goodnight mochi”.
“Good night angel.”
As I hung up the phone, Chase and Malcolm both popped their heads into the bathroom. They had an approving smile on their face. 
“Does it look bad?” I asked self-consciously. 
Malcolm was the first to speak. “It looks really good, sweets. We’re proud of you.” 
“New Era coming, huh?” Chase asked. 
“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “Yeah I think so. I’m ready for it.”
“Well good. Because we are too,” he knocked on the wall before the two of them disappeared in their bedroom. 
Hooking up the blow dryer, I began to dry my now darker and shorter hair, humming along to a song that had been stuck in my head all day. 
“I was lost but now I’m found.” 
Salem jumped up onto the closed toilet seat, watching me with bright eyes.
“We’re not perfect but we’re proud of who we are,” my voice echoed in the confines of the bathroom.
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foxylady13 · 2 months
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SJM Interview and My Thoughts
Court of Maas has a transcript up of one of Sarah J Maas's interviews. There was some things I found very interesting from it.
Let's start with this one:
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The "meeting a character and just knowing that they're the next story" screams Gwyn to me. Why? Because she was a new character that was introduced and Sarah had to meet. And Gwyn herself has lines in ACOSF that hint at more to come with her story (and Emeries)
“You had this much to say about us?” Emerie said, choking on a laugh. Gwyn rubbed her hands together. “With more to come.”
The back of her throat ached; her eyes stung. “We’re in a book.” Gwyn’s fingers slid into hers, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up to find her holding Emerie’s free hand as well. Gwyn smiled again, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”
Also, Sarah's answer on the question if we'll get an Elain POV in the next book was met with "we'll see Elain in some form" which to me implies she's more than likely not the main character & that just adds to my previous statement.
Next we have this:
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"She realized she wanted to write men who will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being 'the hero' themselves"
That screams like Azriel and Elain are a no go since we know Azriel likes being the hero when it comes to her. Just look at him going to Hybern Camp with Feyre to try to play hero... or what about in ACOSF when Cassian talks about Elain being captured and this is what was said by Azriel:
Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all."
Azriel is "the hero" and will always insist that way with Elain. He's not the one for Elain.
But you know the pairings where the men will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being the hero for their partners? Gwynriel and Elucien.
We already see this with Azriel and Gwyn. He couldn't be the hero for Gwyn when she went into the Blood Rite because of the laws even Rhysand couldn't break. He even tells Cassian they trained them well and to trust in that training.
“There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,” Cassian said, voice thickening. “To Emerie and Gwyn.”
The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. “You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.”
Also, here are even some ideas of them doing things together that fit with their pairings:
Elucien
Traveling to different courts & explore the world together. Hosting parties and being politically savvy.
Gardening - I actually have a commission of this I'll post soon 🤭
Cooking/Baking - Lucien will want to help Elain and it's something I can see then enjoying doing together given their personalities.
Gwynriel
Spy missions. Training. Singing.
Research in the library for universe theories or general reading & just imagine them sitting up in bed together reading passages to one another, analyzing them, theorizing. Thank you @alex-catlady for this one!
Flying - Gwyn on a Pegasus and Azriel flying beside her. Maybe even making into a race for a little competition? Azriel flying with Gwyn in his arms.
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c-m-stuff · 11 months
Text
Casino
Spencer Reid x Female!Raeder
-Description: You and Spencer are having a secret relationship. When you got lost in a casino, Spencer was mad at a certain person.
-Warnings: Fluffiness, angst
-Word count: 919
-Note: (Repost from Wattpad!) I hope, you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Masterlist
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Y/N POV:
Las Vegas, the city known for his many casinos and night life. The city were my secret boyfriend was born and raised. The city were we just finished up a case, but due to circumstances, we could only fly back first thing in the morning.
It was evening, we all were already in the hotel. This was the first time I was in Vegas, and I've always wanted to go to a casino. Not to gamble, but just to look around. Feeling the vibe.
I walked out of my hotel room, wanting to ask the genius to come with me. As I just closed the door, Derek walked by.
'Hey pretty girl, wanna come with me to the casino?'
'Derek Morgan, you read my mind. I just wanted to go to there.' I teased, before I hooked up my arm into his. We saw each other as big brother and little sister, always teasing the other.
There wasn't a casino in this hotel, but luckily there was one a few miles away. When we arrived, my eyes went wide, and I couldn't hide the impressed look on my face. It was huge.
'So pretty girl, what are your plans here?'
'Just looking around. I'm really not gonna gamble, just wanna feel the vibe. What about you?'
'Feeling the vibe was my plan as well.'
We went towards a large table, some people were cheering, other were grumbling. It was pretty cool to watch them work, the poker faces they've got, and the confidence they had.
'I'm going to grab us some drinks.' I told Derek, as he nodded in confirmation, while I went to the bar.
I ordered us some drinks, and as I wanted to go back, Derek was no longer in sight. I placed the drinks on a table, trying not to panic, as I couldn't find the muscular man. I went to look for him, but the casino was huge, you could easily walk a while to reach the other side.
I looked everywhere, but no sign of Derek.
_________________________
Spencer's POV:
I was reading my book, as I heard a knock on the door. I went to open it, and got greet by a very worried Morgan.
'Reid, you gotta help me. I lost (Y/N).' I immediately got concerned as well, hearing the name of the love of my life.
'W-what? You lost (Y/N)? Where? How?' I spoke in a more high pitch voice than I wanted.
'We went to a casino. We wanted to feel the vibe and just look around. She went to get us some drinks, while I went to the restroom. When I got back, I couldn't find her anymore.' he explained, as I got angry for losing (Y/N).
'Did you call her?' I asked, as he nodded his head.
'Yes, but it goes straight to voicemail. I don't even think she took her phone with her.'
'Reid, that casino is huge.' Morgan added, putting emphasis on the word "huge".
'Let's go, she easily panics when she get lost or don't know what to do.' I said, knowing she once told me.
My worrying only grew, when I saw the huge casino. Not only my worrying grew, but also my anger.
'Morgan, how could you lose her?' my voice was louder, anger visibly in my expression.
'I'm sorry, Reid, but you're not the only one who is worried.'
'Let's just split up. Call me when you find her.'
We both went different ways, calling out her name and searching everywhere. After a while searching, I finally saw my beautiful girlfriend. She looked absolutely terrified, a single tear escaping her eye, as her gaze met mine.
I ran into her arms, hugging her tightly, while I gently rubbed her back in attempt to comfort her.
'Spence...' relief washed over the both of us, as I pulled her even closer.
'I was so scared, Spence. I left my phone in my hotel room, and I couldn't find Derek. I forgot the way to the hotel and it's dark outside, knowing our jobs, it's very dangerous, especially for women and-' I stopped her anxious rambling, by pressing my lips on her soft ones. It didn't took long for her to kiss me back, finally relaxing a bit more.
'Pretty boy is finally getting some.' we jumped away, looking at a very excited Morgan.
'So, how long?' he asked us, but my girlfriend was quicker in answering him.
'How could you lose me? Where were you?' she began lightly hitting his chest, expressing her feelings.
'I'm sorry! It wasn't my intention!' he took her hitting hands and wrapped her in a hug. I could see the relief as well on his face.
'Congratulations you two. You make a nice couple.'
'Thanks.'
'I'm going to get you back, Derek Morgan. Watch your back.' I needed to suppress the laughing, threatening to come to the surface. With that last sentence being said, she took my hand and dragged me out of the casino, leaving an astonished Morgan behind.
_________________________
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nolita-fairytale · 1 year
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try a little tenderness | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader one shot
summary: on the anniversary of mikey's death, you help carmy find a way to grieve. (set in the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone piece)
warnings: swearing, grief, mild angst, mentions of death & suicide, second person pov, no use of y/n
wc: 2.3k
a/n: i wrote this as a way to process my own grief over the loss of a close friend to suicide. i fell so deeply in love with 'the bear' because i saw myself in so many of these characters: how they responded to losing mikey, the nature of the loss, and the ways they fought their grief. i see so much of myself in carmy in the show and this ended up being really cathartic to write, even though it's been three years now. anyways, heavy shit ahead so don't feel obligated to read but thank you if you do.
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(banner made by @allthefandomstogether)
Grief is a funny thing. 
For Carmy, most days it’s something easy to ignore – like an old friend that he’s managed to cut out of his day to day. He’s stopped calling, stopped picking up the phone, eliminated any and all thought about this thing that feels so foreign yet, so familiar at the same time. 
But now he has you – and he’s never been able to bullshit you for shit. Some days, he feels like you see right through him. He knows he’s been irritable, short, impatient at the restaurant (and sometimes at home too). It’s something you handle better than he expected – better than he thinks he deserves. 
“Honey, can we take a pause from this conversation? I just don’t think either of us are in the right headspace,” you’d asked him the other day when he’d tried to pick a fight with you. Completely caught off guard, Carmy had stared at you blankly in response, as if you’d suggested you both run naked down the street.
“If you wanna fight, we can fight. I just… don’t think this is what you’re upset about,” you’d explained, before slipping into the bedroom with the book you were halfway through. 
And today, after he’d tried to pick another fight with you, you’d stopped him again, like a tornado hitting an immovable wall. 
“Carmy, I’m not going to fight you about the dishes,” you’d sighed, shooting him a sympathetic look. “I’m gonna take a walk and pick some things up at the store for dinner. Is that still something you’d like to do?”
How could he forget when he’d been making his brother’s family recipe earlier that day, setting the braciole-filled dutch oven in the fridge to be put into the oven for later? But he almost has – another symptom of how checked out he’s been all week. 
He’s not used to this. He’s used to his siblings – his mom – picking fights over the smallest things that usually escalated into a screaming match. And while you were willing to fight over things that felt worthy to go to bat for, always quick to call him out when he’s being a dick, you don’t engage in his smaller, more frivolous attempts at starting something over the smallest, nitpicky things. 
It’s a whole new pattern for him, and he’ll admit, it’s harder than you make it look. 
Earlier in the week, he knew he’d been in a trash mood. Then he looked at the calendar and saw what date was coming:
2/22/23. 
Oh. 
No wonder he’s been such an ass. 
And now wonder you’ve been such a saint.  
“Oh, um…” he stammers, as he realizes his memory has failed him again. “Uh… yeah, we can still do that.”
He’d forgotten you’d made plans for dinner in preparation for today, and truthfully, he’d been so absent-minded all week that he’s forgotten – forgotten about the plan, forgotten about what day it was, forgotten that that day was now today. Thankfully, you’d had the sense to make sure he was off that day, coordinating with the staff of The Bear to make it happen. While you knew everyone would be grieving today, you weren’t interested in a repeat of last year when the both of you were still in New York.
Sydney, the real hero of this story, had moved mountains to get everyone’s schedules nailed down for this week – knowing it’d be a hard week for everyone that knew and loved Mikey. 
“No, we do not need a repeat of last year,” Sydney had agreed, as you’d explained to her the shit show that was Carmy going into work that night, one year ago. “Don’t worry. I’ll run the kitchen. Tap as many newer staff as I can to work too.”
With the recent press about The Bear (not to mention Sydney’s official James Beard finalist status) there’d been a huge increase in applicants lately. You couldn’t thank Syd enough. 
“Okay. I love you, Carm. I’ll be back in a bit,” you reassure, before grabbing his keys and your coat.
“Yeah,” he mutters quietly, as he watches you go. 
*
After lighting up a few in the apartment, he lays down on the couch, turning on something mind-numbing to not pay attention to on the TV. He’s not sure when or how long it takes him to drift off to sleep, but one minute he’s blinking his eyes closed, and the next he can hear the sounds of pots and pans clamoring around the kitchen. 
He feels guilty: guilty for being an ass, guilty for trying to start something, guilty about what Mikey did.
You’ve told him time and time again: “I don’t think it’s fair to yourself to carry this much blame, Bear.” While normally, he’d love the way his familial nickname sounded coming from you, he’d winced at the mention – just because today, it hits a little too close to home. 
He knows it’s not fair to himself – or to you – but it’s something he’s just not ready to let go of yet. 
He can smell the braciole he’d prepared earlier that day; you’ve already put it in the oven, letting it braise slowly like it was meant to be. He recalled the conversation you both had had about this a few weeks ago. 
“Let’s make a meal he’d like,” you’d proposed, wanting to be a supportive 
“The braciole. Or maybe his spaghetti,” he’d suggested, so matter-of-factly that you could tell he was trying to mask his emotions.
“Maybe both?” you’d countered him. 
“Yeah,” he‘d agreed, quick to put himself out of the discomfort the conversation was causing him. 
“How do you feel about maybe asking some of the others to stop by, Only if they want. Only if you’re up for it,” you’d continued, cautiously. 
“Can I let you know?” he’d asked. 
“Sure,” you’d agreed, even though you knew he wouldn’t be bringing it up again. 
As Carmy sits up from the couch, his mind drifting back to the present, he sees you posted up in front of his little apartment’s stove top, working on his brother’s spaghetti sauce. Pangs of guilt fill his chest, and he feels like absolute garbage for being a dick earlier. He can’t picture doing anything else tonight and he’s glad you had the foresight to do this. Carmy rubs the sleep out of his eyes, watching you move around the kitchen. You’ve got a window open just in case that tricky little smoke alarm goes off while you’re steeping the garlic in olive oil. 
You’re busy trying to maneuver the largest saute pan Carmy owns over the burner for maximum heat exposure when he approaches. The sun’s already set, and the heat from the kitchen leaves a fog on the windows right near the stove, as you shake the saute pan by its handle. 
“Hey,” Carmy says, his voice rough with sleep. 
“Hey,” you reply, a soft smile on your lips as you turn to him. “Sleep alright?”
His unruly curls seem exceptionally messy this evening, and you can smell the remnants of the cigarettes he smoked while you were out. You hate how sexy you still find the nasty habit, even though you’ve tried your best to get him to cut back, citing lung cancer as a top reason. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re eager to taste the cigarettes on his lips, wiping your hands on your jeans because, unlike Carmy, you could care less to wear an apron at home. Framing his face with both of your hands, you place a gentle kiss on his lips, breathing him in as he kisses you back. 
“Sorry I was an ass earlier,” Carmy says, in between kisses. 
“Thanks. You’re kind of allowed to be an ass today though,” you say back. 
He can’t believe you’re letting him off the hook this easily. 
“And what about tomorrow?” he asks, taking a more playful approach this time. 
“No, definitely not. Cut off. Ass privileges? Revoked,” you’re quick to banter back, earning a dry laugh from your boyfriend. 
As you return to your post in front of the stove, Carmy slaps your butt playfully from your earlier comment, eliciting a giggle from you as he does it. He watches you work, adding salt to the tomato, onion, and butter you’re reducing in the saute pan, while the saucepan-filled olive oil/garlic/basil mixture comes up to a simmer. 
“I know you’ve always said that Mikey’s pasta was over-sauced and under seasoned… but it sounds like he just needed a little extra salt and a few little tweaks here and there,” you continue, tasting the tomato sauce. 
He’s not ready to taste the sauce just yet, even though he’d suggested you make the spaghetti in the first place. He watches as you use a spoon to check for salt levels, tasting the sauce first. You throw your head back as the salty tomato mixture hits your tongue. Carmy watches you carefully as you remove the sprig of basil with a pair of tongs, tossing it into a deli container for the trash later. Placing the deli container on the counter next to the rest of things you need to dispose of, his eyes linger on the 28 oz San Marzanos. 
Because the small ones taste better…. 
You busy yourself with straining the oil, setting it aside to add to the sauce towards the end of the process. Carmy checks his phone briefly, seeing a few texts from Richie, Syd, and Tina – all just checking in. 
“Silly question, I know. But how are you doing?” you ask him, having found a good stopping point. 
Carmy thinks about it for a second. He’s not sure how he wants to answer – how he’s supposed to answer this question. 
“I’m… I don’t know,” he managed to get out. 
You nod in acceptance, before replying with an empathetic, “That makes sense.”
“It doesn’t feel real, I guess?” he admits, taking his time as the words fall out of his mouth. 
“I can only imagine, Carm,” you sympathize. “Wanna help me out?”
“Yeah,” he replies, a half smile on his face. 
You’re so kind, so understanding, so empathetic, and he can’t picture spending this day with anyone but you. He thinks back to last year – when he got the news. It was the worst day of his life and regardless of that fact, you’d been there: caring enough to show up, to fight with him, to make sure he ate something. And then that night… the night you crossed the line, slept together even though both of you knew it was a bad idea, that there was no way you could start something real. 
He’s not sure how you got from there to here, but he thanks his lucky stars for whatever good deed he’s done in a past life that’s led to it. 
“Thank you for this,” he says intentionally, making sure you hear him as he continues with, in reference to earlier, “... and I love you too.”
You don’t expect anything from him, and he’s grateful, because he’s not sure he has anything to give. Not today. 
You give him the softest smile, something that makes him want to melt right there and then when you reply with:
“You don’t need to thank me.”
You step aside, making space for Carmy as you give him a task to do to help with dinner. You made the executive decision not to scale Michael’s recipes down, making them as written – family style. If anything, you hope to bring some of the leftovers, sharing his food in honor of his life. You wish you could’ve met Mikey, and since you didn’t get to, making his food feels like the best way to get to know the man Carmy loved and admired so much. 
You queue up a good playlist, working in perfect harmony with Carmy till dinner is ready to eat. Between the braciole and the spaghetti, you know you’ll have more than enough leftovers to feed the two of you for the next week. You let Carmy plate – something he’s truly exceptional at – watching him as he creates a perfect twirl of spaghetti before tearing a few pieces of basil for garnish. As you bring the spaghetti to Carmy’s small dining table that is only meant to seat two, he plates up the braciole on one plate for the both of you to share. You set the table, enjoying the sounds of the playlist you’ve set for the night, before sitting down to eat. 
Carmy takes his first bite of the spaghetti, knowing that it’s not going to be an easy thing for him. You watch closely as he tastes the sauce, his eyes closing and face turning a darker shade redder. 
You wait a beat, letting him settle in before asking:
“What do you think?” 
He nods his head, “It’s fire.” You can see that he’s holding back tears, not ready to lose all control just yet. “It’s actually better… than Mikey’s”
You eat your dinner quietly. It’s the good kind of quiet but the air feels heavy. Carmy may not always have the words for what he’s feeling, but he doesn’t need to right now. You try the braciole together, sharing one plate as he tells you about how Mikey refused to use raisins, even though that’s how they grew up eating the beef dish. You listen, letting him travel down memory lane, only as far as he’d like tog. 
Halfway through dinner, Carmy says something that surprises you:
“We’ve got more than enough leftovers to feed a large family of… twenty,” he states plainly. His blue eyes water as he continues with an ask. “You uh… maybe wanna pack this up and take it to the restaurant tonight?”
“Yeah, Bear. I think everyone would love that," you agree, the smallest smile on your lips. "Would you... wanna tell me a little about him? On our walk there?"
Carmy nods, "Sure. Yeah, I-. I think I can do that."
*
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muddyorbsblr · 6 months
Text
slipping between future and past [SAS secret santa 2023]
View the full SAS Secret Santa 2023 Masterlist here! See my full list of works here!
Summary: You give your friend a few pointers on what to know about Yule, and come across a familiar looking stranger in your bookstore.
Pairing: Loki x Reader/OC Talia Williams
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, please leave I'm asking nicely); unprotected p in v sex; cunnilingus; magical restraints; language; possibly wonky interpretation of time travel & timeslipping; possibly wonky understanding of Yule [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: established relationship; still written in 2nd Person POV like my other 'x Reader' stories, but this time Reader has a name and it's "Talia Williams"; this is a secret santa request for @acidcasualties
Dick-tionary: smut starts at "the feel of your hands being brought" and ends at "as he marked your skin"
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It was uncharacteristically slow today in the bookstore, barely a handful of people walking in, browsing for a few minutes, and then promptly exiting when they see that you didn't carry the middle school dystopia book series all the kids were raving over. It was a colossal waste of their time and yours, considering there would have been less effort had they just taken even a cursory look at the sign by the door.
You didn't carry children's books. Classics, Myths, and Romance only.
Of the number of people that walked through the doors that you could count on your two hands, you could only count those that actually made a purchase with one. Half of one.
The sound of the door chimes brought your attention to the entrance again, seeing your friend Ariadne bounding into the front area of the store with a frantic look in her eye. "Talia," she panted, headed straight for you. "Babes, I need your help. Are you busy? You got a customer back there?"
"Nope. Just me," you called out, stepping out from behind the counter. "What's wrong? What do you need?"
"Okay so…you know that guy I'm seeing?"
"Uhh…I think so? Lee, right?"
"Leif. Think trees, Babes. Anyways, he wants me to meet his family and apparently they're super into the ancient Norse traditions, so I need a crash course on how they celebrate Christmas." She paced back and forth by the table that held the New York Times bestsellers that you did hold stock for, picking up a copy of the stalker dark romance duology. "His sister likes to read, you think she'll appreciate this?"
You immediately rushed over to her, grabbing the book and nearly slamming it back down on the stack. "You gotta let them crawl before they walk. Let alone sprint," you explained, giving her Beautiful Bastard instead. "This should be a good enough in between, just in case she's not into guns being shoved up anyone's vagina--"
Up where?! she shrieked, grabbing the first book again, along with the sequel and the book you were handing her. "Okay I'll take that for his sister, and these two for me."
"This is exactly why we're friends," you quipped, ringing up her order. "Now about that other thing…you do know that just because I own a bookshop, it doesn't mean that I know everything about everything, right?"
She rolled her eyes at you. "Yeah, but I also know that you live for all these myths and folk tales, so I bet you know a thing or two about Viking Christmas."
"Alright fine. Find a chair and settle in," you said with an overly dramatic wave of your hand. "First things first, it's not called 'Viking Christmas', it's called 'Yule'. Immediately if you wanna get on his family's good side, you say Good Yule because it shows that you did at least a customary Google search before you stepped foot on their property." You handed her a small notepad and a pencil. "You're gonna wanna write this down."
When her scribbling down stopped, she perked up with a question. "Do they have a Santa Claus?"
"Yes and no," you answered her, prepping two cups of coffee and handing one over to her before plopping down on your own seat in the reading nook, your favorite one in the entire shop. "Santa Claus is what we call who the Brits refer to as 'Father Christmas'. The Brits got that from 'Yule Figure' from the Viking mythology and Mr Yule Figure himself is...Odin."
"Wait wait hold up." She shot up her hand like a kid asking questions in class. "So Odin is Santa? He goes around little Viking kiddies' neighborhoods and slides down the chimney to give them wooden axes and swords?"
"Hmmm not quite. The whole making a list and checking it twice to give the good little boys and girls presents on Christmas is...not quite how the Vikings do it. Instead they engage in something called the Wild Hunt, where Odin aka Big Yule Father Kahuna calls on his posse of gods and plays a game of non-consensual hide and seek with the living souls. So us being the 'living mortals', we have to find a safe enough hiding place that Odin and Thor and the rest of the Norse gods don't find us, because if they do…they drag us to the Underworld."
"Okay first of all, yikes." Ariadne made a big show of shuddering in her seat over what you just told her. "Can't it be something a little bit less morbid? Like if Thor finds you he drags you to his den of iniquity and has his wicked way with you?"
"I mean it's all myths and folklore anyway," you shot back with a small shrug as you finished off your coffee. "So maybe when the big girls are off in their own corner, we can smut it up and pretend that if someone other than Odin finds us, we can get some happy fun times." You both broke out into giggles at your wording. "And when we're telling the story to the smaller kiddos, we say that the gods only go after the naughty kids. Keep with the spirit of Christmas and all that." You wagged a finger in her direction, giving her another suggestion. "Or in the case of meeting Leif's family, just think which one's gonna have him more devastated, your soul getting dragged into the Underworld or your body getting dragged to Thor's man cave."
She wrote down some more notes on her little notepad before standing up, brimming with excitement. "Okay I think that's all I need. Hopefully…"
"Babes, you're there to meet the family, not get gatekeeper gamer boy levels of interrogated on what you know about Yule. As soon as you don't say 'Merry Viking Christmas', you're in the clear."
She squealed, rushing over to wrap her arms around you and give you a tight squeeze. "Thank you thank you! You just saved me from looking a total ditz meeting his family. I have a really good feeling about this one, you know?"
You gave her a squeeze back, happy that she was finally in a relationship that felt stable enough to start on that family she'd always wanted.
Maybe one day you could be so lucky with your own love life.
"I'm really happy for you, Aria. Let me know how it goes when you get back, okay?"
You worked on wrapping up the book she intended to gift Leif's sister as she asked you another question. "What about mistletoe? Do they have that in Yule?"
You scrunched her nose and shook your head at her question. "Yes and no again. Yes, they've assigned meaning to the plant but no, you don't kiss under it for fear of spending the next year all alone. They believe it to be a symbol for fertility, so it's been known for couples to hang it above their headboards so that their holiday fun times might lead to a child. It's also seen as a symbol for new life or resurrection because there's another folktale that says that Loki fashioned a weapon from the mistletoe plant to kill Baldur, and Frigga's tears turned the white berries red and resurrected her fallen son. Which if you ask me is a steaming pile of horse shit that's almost more ridiculous than how Siegfried was felled in the Nibelungenlied, but that's a story for another day."
"Hold up, but isn't Loki also a son of Frigga?"
You shrugged. "Who knows what's real and what's not at this point? These tales are thousands of years old. All we know right now is that Thor's real and he's friends with a billionaire that made a fancy iron suit and a soldier from the 40s that doesn't even look like he's hit his mid-20s. And that he dated an astrophysicist. Tell you what, if I ever meet him, I'll ask him myself. Maybe I'll even ask him what exactly goes down in the Wild Hunt if they still do it in this century."
"Ooh, if he walks into the store please text me?" You gave her a questioning look. "What? He's my hall pass. Leif knows all about it. Natasha Romanoff's his."
You handed her the gift-wrapped book. "Pinky promise, I'll tell you as soon as a 6'4 muscular Barbie looking dude from Asgard swinging a hammer and summoning thunder and lightning walks into my shop. Maybe I'll even text you if the Black Widow herself walks in so that Leif would owe a favor or two."
"Hey, it could happen," she quipped, sticking her tongue out at you like you were back in the sandbox. "We're in New York, after all. And Avengers Tower's just a ten minute walk away. You never know, you know?"
"Right," you breathed, waving her off as she neared the door. "Merry Yule."
"Merry Crisis," she shot back, blowing you a kiss as she stepped into the cold New York night.
You started cleaning the store so you could close up for the night when a new voice pierced through the quiet.
"I appreciate your refusal to believe that hokum about the mistletoe, darling. It warms my cold Jotun heart knowing that it's safe in your brilliant hands."
Large hands found themselves at your waist before your new visitor's arms wrapped around you from behind, your body going frigid at the action. "Who--?"
"Oh no..." He immediately released you from his hold, allowing you to come face to face with a towering man with onyx curls and a devastatingly handsome face that seemed vaguely familiar. "I must have gone back too far this time." He took a step toward you, his hands twitching in your direction as if he wanted to go back to where he was just a few seconds ago. If you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn't object. "Sweetheart, who am I to you?"
"What? This time?" You raised an eyebrow at him, confusion coating your words. "You trying to tell me we met before? Because trust me I'd remember meeting someone that looked like you."
"Who am I to you? What do you know of me?" he asked again, his brows upturned at the center of his forehead, his expression reminding you of a baby kitten pleading for affection.
"Not much," you admitted. "You look like the guy that tore up a hole in the sky and rode some space chariot while leading an alien army that laid waste on the city that I call home...and the guy that went up against Iron Man and his friends, including that big green scary monster looking dude."
He hung his head, looking down at the ground as he let out a long sigh. "I don't just look like that guy, darling, I--" He exhaled sharply before composing himself again. "I am that guy. Well, I was. And Banner's honestly not that terrifying once you get to know him." He looked at you again, seeing your hand and beginning to look emotionally deflated. "I went too far back."
"You know who else you look like?" you asked him, a smirk playing at your mouth as you reached for the chain around your neck, showing him the ring that hung in its center, closing the distance he put between you. "You look like my future husband."
The relief was written all over Loki's face as he eyed the ring he'd given you, a brilliant smile gracing his features when he pulled you into his arms and laid his lips on yours.  You melted into the kiss, pressing yourself against him as the god's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer.
"My darling little mortal," he mumbled against your lips. "Somehow managing to fool a trickster god, for any amount of time, is a feat in and of itself." He kissed you again, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a circle when you put your arms over his shoulders.
"Well you said it yourself, I'm brilliant," you answered him back when you pulled away, your fiancée keeping your feet off the ground. He adjusted his hold on you to hold you up by a single arm, making you giggle when he started walking toward the front door and made your keys materialize in his now free hand. "What're you doing, Mischief?"
"You're finished here for the night," he stated simply, all the lights turning off, along with the doors locking closed, and the sign in front flipping to "Closed" to indicate you'd retired for the night, with a simple wave of his hand. "I'm taking you home, little mortal. Close your eyes."
A breeze flew by your face and the next thing you knew your back was pressed against the familiar wooden column of your kitchen area. Loki crushed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as he pressed your chests together, hands traveling down the sides of your body to wrap your legs around him.
The feel of your hands being brought above your head despite the god's hands still roaming and grasping at your thighs had your eyes snapping open, breaking the kiss with a little squeak from the back of your throat as you looked up. A thrill shot up your spine seeing a thick glowing ring of Loki's seiðr fastened around your wrists and keeping you tethered to the column behind you.
"I could not decide whether to reward you or punish you for getting the better of me earlier, my love," he rasped, latching his lips to your neck and sucking a bruise into your skin. He smirked against you when you started whimpering and arching into his touch within seconds. "So I shall do both."
You let out a whiny sound that had him lightly grasping your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip to coax it into a pout. He kissed you again, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. Then another ring of his seiðr appeared at your hips, keeping them flush against the column as both rings began to lift you up, your feet soon leaving the ground until he was eye level with your pelvis.
He made a motion with his hand and suddenly you felt a breeze all over your body as he bared you to him, your clothes disappearing in a flash of green.
"Loki…" you whined, squirming under his predatory gaze as another ring of seiðr went around each of your legs, just above your knee, and opened you to him.
"I've not been home in ages, my darling mortal," he rasped, not taking his eyes off of your arousal as he licked his lips. "And I am famished." He took a step closer to you, lightly running his fingers up your inner thigh.
"Let--Let me down, then," you said shakily, feeling your walls quivering and clenching around nothing as he traced up your inner thigh again, only this time with the tip of his nose before pressing a tender kiss to your skin. "I can fix us something to--"
"Oh no, sweet Talia." He kissed you right below your belly button, groaning into your skin. "I do not crave food, my love." He continued to press kisses to your stomach, faintly chuckling when you tried to close your legs and his restraints kept you from moving even an inch. "Your reward is that I will not deny you any ounce of pleasure tonight. I have longed for you too much to deny you much of anything."
He moved his head lower, and you let out an obscene moan of his name as he ran his tongue along the length of your slit before slowly circling your clit.
"Your punishment…" he breathed, pressing slow lingering kisses and laving his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "No touching."
"Loki, wait--Oh f-fuck!" The room filled with your moans as he proceeded to alternate between long licks at your entrance and close his lips over your clit for what felt like a blissfully torturous eternity. He kept his word on not denying you anything as he brought you over the edge over and over again.
Your throat was raw from your constant moans and screams of his name and various expletives, already having lost count of how many times you came for him when he slid two devastatingly long fingers inside you and curled up, brushing against the spot that had you seeing stars. "One more, sweet girl," he mumbled around your clit, the vibrations from his voice already bringing you to the brink of orgasm yet again.
He moved your legs to rest your thighs on his shoulders, moaning against you when your entire body tensed as you came for him again, your pussy quivering against his mouth as he lapped at your release with languid strokes of his tongue. The restraints around your wrists and hips moved you down the column until your face was level with his, a weak whimper slipping from you when you saw how his lips glistened with your juices.
You barely registered the sound of the zipper as he kissed along your chest, biting and sucking more bruises into your skin. He lined himself up at your entrance, sliding into you in a single effortless thrust and eliciting a staggered sigh of relief from the god. "I've m-missed this," he whimpered between thrusts. "Missed you." Thrust. "My precious mortal." Thrust. "My wife." Thrust.
He threw his head back, letting out a decadent moan when you clenched around him after what he'd just called you. It had you desperately longing for your wedding day. Desperately aching to touch him. Just desperate for him.
"Please…" you whimpered, feebly fighting against the restraints again. When the rings holding you to the column finally disappeared, you could only let out a sharp exhale, your hand immediately clawing into your fiancée's back, the other weaving into his onyx curls.
Loki pressed you harder against the column, driving himself deeper inside you, his hands roaming and grasping wherever he could, as if he couldn't get enough of you. Couldn't touch you enough. He slanted his mouth over yours, moaning into the kiss when your tongues tangled together and you could taste your release on him. He adjusted his hold on you, letting out another muffled obscene sound into each other's mouths when the motion caused you to bounce on his cock.
Once he held you securely in his arms he started walking you further into your home, each step making you bounce on him and further weakening you in his embrace. He eased you down onto your bed, breaking the kiss and rendering you completely speechless watching his clothes melt away and baring his godly physique to you.
All you could do was breathe his name as he moved to hover over you again, pressing his lips to your cheek as he picked up the pace. He wrapped his hand around your knee, raising your leg to wrap it around his waist so he could drive into you harder. When you felt his fingers rubbing over your clit, the only sound that came out of you was a sharp moan, your body weakly arching against his hand before squeaking out, "I can't--"
"Just one more, dear heart. For me," he grunted, latching his lips onto that spot between your neck and shoulder as he kept on rubbing tight circles on the over-sensitized nub. Your legs shook and your walls convulsed around him, bring him to his own release as he marked your skin.
Once you both came down from your high, you felt his seiðr wash over you as he pulled you into his arms, putting the covers over you both with another wave of his hand. "I gotta be honest with you, sweetie, that felt a little pent up," you exhaled, a tiny part of you finding it unfair that he'd already resumed his regular breathing as if he didn't just fuck you senseless.
Damn Asgardian endurance.
"Because it was, precious mortal," he told you simply, tracing his finger along your cheek. "How long has it been since last you saw me?"
"Three months…give or take a week?" You braced yourself, already dreading what he'd say next.
"I have not seen you for over a year, my love," he confessed, pressing another kiss to your lips. "At least not like this. Every time I had seen you, you were yet to know me. There were worlds where you even outright feared me, scurrying away once you'd realized where you recognized me from. When I got to your shop earlier, I nearly believed I landed in another iteration of that world."
Suddenly your 'prank' from earlier left a sinking feeling in your stomach. "Loki, I'm sorry, I didn't know." You wrapped your arm around him, pressing yourself even closer to him if that were even possible, resting your head on his shoulder. "I just thought it'd be a bit of fun--"
"You have nothing to apologize for," he reassured you, brushing the tip of his nose along your own before softly kissing the spot. "But I have missed you terribly. Getting to hold you, to love you. To simply be here with you and enjoy a moment with my wife."
"Future wife," you pouted. "We're still in the planning phase, sadly. I take it the last time you saw me was sometime in our…future? I'm sorry this still gets confusing for me." He nodded his answer, pressing his lips to  your forehead. "Well then the timelines better fucking behave because I refuse to let you go anywhere. I get that you're a big powerful hero now, and knowing that you're out there making sure that everyone's safe and gets to come home to their families? I couldn't be prouder. But you should get to come home, too." You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. "Preferably for longer than a quickie with your fiancé."
His brows furrowed, shaking his head at your sentiment before pulling you to lay on top of him, chests pressed together with his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "I've come from a time where we were married and I called you my wife. Regardless of our pending ceremony, that is what you are to me now and what I will call you moving forward. No more of those semantics."
You nudged his chin with your nose, a giggle escaping you when he pulled you up to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Tell me about it. The future…"
"When I found you, you were a force to be reckoned with. Planning your friend Aria's wedding--"
"Ah, so she and Leif really are headed for the fairytale happy ever after?"
"No no, you were planning the wedding in Asgard." You eyes widened at the new information. "She was set to marry Thor."
"Wait she what?!"
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A/N: I'm so excited to participate in this year's Secret Santa again! This has been so much fun to write for both times around, and hopefully the story did justice to the request 🥹💖
The request from @acidcasualties:
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secret santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman
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