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#because i know for me it was social pressure and the need to fit in rather than actually giving a fuck
hellhoundlair · 8 months
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sometimes u gotta stop and ask urself... "who gives a fuck?"
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crazysodomite · 2 years
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it truly doesn’t matter if youre a good person or if you try to improve yourself... the only thing that matters is your social skill and social abilities
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honey-flustered · 3 months
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Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)
MDNI +18 Only!!
Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader
Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)
A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.
CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants
You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.
“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.
“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”
You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.
“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.
“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”
“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”
“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.
“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”
“I’m in!” Essie beams.
“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.
“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”
“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”
You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”
——————
The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.
With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”
“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”
“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.
“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”
Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”
Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”
“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”
“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.
“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.
“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.
“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.
“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.
You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.
Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.
A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.
“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”
You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.
“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”
“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.
You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.
Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.
“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”
He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”
“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.
“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”
“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.
————-
“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”
You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.
“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.
“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”
“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”
“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to
Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.
“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.
“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”
“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.
“Exactly.” Your father confirms.
You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”
You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”
You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.
————
Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.
Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.
“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”
“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”
“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”
“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”
“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.
“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”
“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”
“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.
“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”
—————
Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.
“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”
Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!
“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”
He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”
You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.
He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.
“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”
“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.
“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.
“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”
You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.
“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.
——————
You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.
“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”
“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”
“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.
“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.
“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”
“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.
“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”
“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.
He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.
But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.
————
The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.
Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.
“Wilbur. His name’s—”
“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”
The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.
It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.
Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.
You raise the paper to your eyes and read:
If I Were A Hobbit
If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free
I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees
With furry feet and a merry heart
From adventure’s call, I’d never depart
With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.
In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme
I’d wander the fields beneath the sun
I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun
If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid
But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid
You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.
“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”
You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”
“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”
“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”
He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”
“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.
“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”
“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.
“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.
“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.
You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.
“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”
“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”
He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.
It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.
“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.
“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”
Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.
His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.
You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.
He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.
Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.
————————-
Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.
You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.
“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”
“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”
“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”
“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.
“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”
“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”
“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.
You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”
“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”
“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.
Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.
You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.
He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.
“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.
Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?
You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.
“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”
You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.
“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”
“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.
“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”
“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”
He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”
—————
You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.
“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.
“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”
“You know D’N’D?”
“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.
“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.
“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”
“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”
“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”
“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.
“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”
“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”
“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”
“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”
He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”
You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.
“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”
“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”
There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.
“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.
“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”
Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.
“What do you want?”
You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“
“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.
“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.
“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”
“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.
“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.
“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”
“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”
“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”
“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”
“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”
“I could. Considering I am one.”
“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”
“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.
“We’re friends?”
“Us, geeks, stick together?”
“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”
He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.
“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”
“And what about my car?”
“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.
If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.
————
Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.
“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.
Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.
You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”
“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”
“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”
“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”
“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.
“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”
“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”
“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.
Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.
Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.
“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.
“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”
“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.
“Fair enough.”
“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”
“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.
“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.
“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.
“Payback’s a bitch, love.”
—————
“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.
“Tana!”
“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.
“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”
“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”
“I’m not!” You insist.
“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”
“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.
“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”
“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”
“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.
An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.
You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.
“What the hell is this?” You sneer.
“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.
“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.
“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.
“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.
“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”
“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.
Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”
With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.
“If I could just explain...” You begin.
“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”
You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.
“I was just having fun.”
“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”
“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.
Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”
You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”
Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.
“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”
Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.
————-
You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.
A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.
“What do you want, twerp?” You say.
“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.
“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”
“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”
“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.
“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.
————
The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.
The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.
However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.
His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.
“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”
He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”
“Understand?” You ask.
“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”
“Accept?”
“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.
“You don’t hate me?”
“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.
“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”
“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”
“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.
“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.
For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.
“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.
“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”
You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”
“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.
You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”
Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”
“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”
“No way.”
“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”
“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.
“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”
“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”
“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”
“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.
He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”
“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”
“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”
“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”
“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”
“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”
“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.
“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”
He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.
“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”
“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.
He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.
Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.
The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.
“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.
“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.
“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.
And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.
He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”
“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.
Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”
And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.
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scribblesofagoonerr · 4 months
Text
All that I ask is that you stay with me | Inner Demons
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⟫ Alphabet Challenge, A - All that I ask is that you stay with me
Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader
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This is some angst that I thought to write because, well, life's been hard recently and I need a creative outlet to get my emotions out on paper and well, this is the result.
It might not be great and it's not been proof-read at all, so uh, yeah... Let me know what you all think but please be kind :)
And if any of you have any ideas of things to write, I'm open to write anything, within reason of course. My asks are open so feel free to drop anything in there :)
The battle with your inner demons are hard. You sometimes wonder if it's better to leave the world, making the decision without the realisation of how loved you are by the team of girls around you.
TW: heavy angst, SH, MH and talks of suicide and death.
"Y/N are you in there? Hurry up, we're about to start the film" The loud voice of Katie shouts aloud from the other side of the closed bathroom door to alert you of your attention.
You were joined by the girls in a classic team bonding night, a good ol' fashioned film to watch with some sugary treats, curtousy of it being a cheat day.
You are always so excited to spend time with the older girls, you all looked up with some much respect, being a part of the team for a while, you'd grown to love the girls like your own family.
Despite how well you fitted in at the club and how amazing you played football, there would always be people to put you down.
And in this case, it was in the forms of social media.
The internet could be a cruel place sometimes.
"Ye... Yeah, alright. J... Just a minute, I'll be right out" You shakily reply as you held the blade out in front of you while it stared back at you, almost like it was almost taunting you to use it.
Old habits are easy to break, you should have knew that.
It wasn't long before you were slumped on the bathroom floor as you watched the crimson liquid trickle down your arms. It felt like a rush of instant relief to the pain that you currently indured.
One small cut to take away the pain, you thought it would be okay.
Two cuts, you just wanted to chase the rush of the first.
Three, four and five, you realise you may have messed up.
You were doing so well, you had been on the right path to get help. that was needed. You had been clean for a numerous amount of days and just in that instant, the snap of a finger and all of that progress, had just been so easy to unwravle again.
You found it so easy to take a hold of the blade in your hand, press it against your wrist and pierce the skin.
It was a feeling of euphoria that you hadn't felt in a while, it was something that was needed.
The cuts were deep, too deep that even with added pressure, they wouldn't stop bleeding.
"Is this the end now?" You had to question yourself as your eyelids felt heavy, you were so tired and you didn't have it in you to fight anymore.
Was it really that easy to leave a world full of heartache and pain?
Maybe so,
At least you had thought that as you hear the sudden loud bang of the bathroom flying open and clashing against the wall.
"Y/N!" It was Leah's shrill voice that screams out in a panic, her eyes widened in fear as she stares at you. "Y/N, can you hear me?!" she questions with a a quiver in her tone.
"L... Le" You slur her name as you look at the blonde as you can feel yourself slipping into a state of unconciousness.
"Stay awake, Y/N. You have too-- Girls, help!" Leah continues to shout aloud for any of the girls to hear. " You hear me, Y/N? You have to stay awake" she pleads as her tears threaten to spill.
"S' okay, Le. L... Let me go. It's time" You tell her quietly as your eyes flutter between being open and shut.
"No, Y/N. You can't give up... You can't" Leah cries openly, the tears at bay have now escaped. "Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me, please" she adds, her voice becomes louder as hot tears roll down her cheeks.
The rest of the girls all heard Leah's panicked voice and dart in the direction of the bathroom, each of them gasping in shock to find you slumped on the floor.
"Shit-- Y/N" Beths' eyes widen in fear and panic as she takes in the scene in front of her.
"What happened?" Viv questions, alarmed by the sight.
"S... She's hurt herself" Leahs' panicked voice speaks aloud while she's crouched down on the floor and pressing a towel against your wrists to try and soak up the blood. "I... I can't get the bleeding to stop" she tells them.
"Somebody call an ambulance, quick" Katie states as she joins Leah's side to kneel down and try to help in way that she can.
Her usual joking manner has suddenly turned into fearful and that's when the girls all knew this was serious.
"I'm on it" Jen agrees as fishes her phone out of her pocket, dialing 999 and waiting for an answer on the other side. "I need an ambulance, as soon as possible. It's urgent! My team mates' hurt herself and is in and out of unconciousness" the scots' woman speaks aloud,
"Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me, keep your eyes open please" Leah pleads as she continues to hold the now blood-soaked towl against your skin, her own tears freely spilling down her cheeks as you daze in and out of sleep.
"W... Why would she do this to herself" Steph questions concerned as she glances at you, heartbroken it had come to this.
"I don't know, she was... she was doing better" Lia spoke out, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tried to keep her own emotions in check.
"At least, we thought she was" Beth mumbles as she struggles to take her eyes off your unconcious body.
"She'll be okay, she has to be" Caitlin adds in with vulnerability in her voice that wasn't usually shown to anyone, other than you.
You were the baby of the team, all of the girls were overprotective of you ever since you joined. It wasn't a secret that you had them all virtually wrapped around your pinky finger.
All the girls knew it was hard for you, you had a lot of expectation to live up to and knew that eventually, the pressure would be too much for you and you would break.
They were all there the last time, they saw the good, the bad and the damn right ugly and vowed to not let it happen again.
But, old habits are easy to break, right?
"Ambulance is on it's way. It won't be long" Jen tells the girls.
"I'm going with her" Leah was quick to say. A tone in her voice which the rest of the girls knew to not object against.
You were close with the girls but compared to them, Leah was pretty much your second-mum, older sister figure all rolled into one and she was the one that you always came to when it got tough.
Why didn't you just speak to her? Then maybe things could be different.
"We'll follow you to the hospital" Kim replies to the blonde and the rest of the girls all nod in agreement, they would always be there for you at a time when you most needed it.
They were your family, and family never turned their back on another.
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sciderman · 8 months
Note
Round boy + mask = square jaw
Pointy boy + mask = egg
Why?
wade's mask is masc. (hahaehehehahaeo...)
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wade does a lot to mask his soft interior – he worries a lot about appearing soft.
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[x]
he's GETTING SOFT (and peter loves it. he loves when wade gets soft.)
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[x]
underneath it all, wade's soft and round. no matter how he tries to hide it.
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wade is always hiding it – to way more extreme and destructive measures than peter, actually.
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it's kind of funny, wade's insistence that peter needs to be honest to himself - because wade's the poster boy. wade finds it difficult to be true to himself, because he doesn't even know which "self" is true at this point. he's constantly pretending to be someone or something else.
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something that'll please others. make him more palatable. more entertaining. make the audience side with him, even if he thinks he's undeserving. fake it till you make it.
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sometimes i think about how wade lost his virginity the night before he enlisted (because he was worried the guys would make fun of him if he was a virgin.)
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of course they made fun of him anyway.
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he doubles down - he puts on the macho air that everyone expects from him. he can be the bad boy. he can be the rugged antihero that is a total jerk but everyone loves anyway because he's the tough guy. it's why you'll never get to see what adult wade looked like pre-weapon X - you'll see wade in his teenage years - but once he enlists - that's not wade wilson. he's constantly playing a role. cool action hero, whatever'll get him the girl.
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it isn't until weapon X that he's forced into a position where he can't hide anymore. everything is on his skin. plain as day, for everyone to see.
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[x]
deadpool becomes the mask wade can hide all his damage and his insecurities behind because lord knows he can't hide a thing when he's out of it. like a lobster out of his shell. he's soft, and pink and tender. he couldn't survive without that hard red shell exterior, to make him look tough.
peter's mask is also masc, but his mask is peter parker.
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spider-man is kind of funny. in that – outwardly, it does look similar to deadpool's performative masculinity. he has "-man" in his name, for christ's sake - but - it's not, really. you wouldn't say spider-man is overly macho. even as much as peter insists it is - nobody buys it.
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you'd definitely, by all accounts, call peter parker the more masc aligned of the two - peter wears baggy clothes, he's kind of uptight, a little bit boring - and spider-man - spider-man's downright flamboyant - from his mannerisms, his jokes, and his tights. oh, and his fluttery little web-wings. he is fruity.
spider-man, in his tiny fruity little tights: YEAH. take a look at ME, girls. this is what true manhood looks like.
you might say the confidence it grants him is what makes him macho - but i think the fun thing about peter's gender journey is his embracal that actually - confidence isn't necessarily a masculine trait, and that - actually, his gender icons (save for uncle ben) are largely confident women.
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i think that's why olive is so dear to me - that peter's leaning into a confidence and self-assuredness that doesn't come from being conventionally masculine. and, in fact - peter parker might be so shy and insecure because he's trying to fit in a box that doesn't fit him.
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i think spider-man is more of a playground for peter. a place where he can experiment with his gender and his sexuality and the concept of "manhood" and what it means to him.
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he can explore, because the anonymity grants him less social pressure to fit in. society can despise spider-man, and yeah - it'll get him down, but the repercussions are relatively little. peter has to fit in, to survive. and, as peter parker, he's terrified of those repercussions.
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peter has such a desire to explore his identity and understand himself better - but, under safe, controlled conditions - whether that's under the anonymity of his mask or... or with people, who make him feel safe.
so, spider-man is peter's outlet to be fruity without repercussions. peter's og dragsona, actually. so – lithe, and curvy. he is so shape.
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lucy90712 · 3 days
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Not enough- Jude Bellingham
Dating a footballer is fun until he becomes incredibly successful and all of a sudden there are rumours left and right of him dating someone that isn't you. That's what my life is like Jude and I got together 3 years ago now when we were 17 and have been together since but we never made our relationship public because until the summer we were still long distance and didn't want the extra pressure. Having our relationship private has been so nice as it has meant when we do see each other we get to just enjoy being together but it also means we have to deal with rumours of who Jude might be dating. Those rumours never really got to me while Jude was at dortmund but since he's moved to Madrid things have just got so much more intense it seems that every few weeks there is a million new articles and tweets. 
Having to read all of this and seeing how pretty all the girls has really started to get to me. All the girls Jude is rumoured to be with are either models or just incredibly pretty which makes me feel awful about myself. All these girls have made a name for themselves in some way yet here I am with my job in a cafe while I try and find a job in the area that I studied. Jude likes to tell me that he doesn't care what I do for a living or how much I make but I can't help but feel guilty when I can't contribute much to the house or get him expensive things like he does for me. I'm also definitely no model I'm definitely not as pretty or as skinny as a model which I used to be ok with but now I don't feel so confident in myself. The other wags are also so pretty I definitely don't fit in with them either which makes me feel even worse about myself. 
Jude doesn't seem to have any clue that this is all going on he wakes up goes to training then hangs out with the boys leaving me until late at night so he doesn't see all the rumours or how they affect me. He's not here for the time I spend scrolling through social media or looking in the mirror judging everything about myself. Even when Jude is home he always seems to have something else on his mind so he never really gives me compliments anymore. I'd like to think that he still loves me but at this point I'm really not sure I mean he's young and he's attractive why would he want to be tied down with someone like me he can do so much better. I simply don't think I'm enough for him. 
A few days ago Jude went out to celebrate a big win for the team while I stayed at home but the next morning all I could see was rumours that Jude was flirting with multiple girls all night letting them dance with him and since I haven't really spoken to him. I spent all of last night laying awake thinking about everything and I decided that I just think I need to break up with Jude so then he's free to do all the things everyone thinks he's doing anyway. It's hard to decide to end a relationship especially one that has been going on for so long and one you are so fond of but I don't see any other way forward. This is why I've been so distant with Jude because in my head if I didn't talk to him that would make all of this easier. 
As always Jude left for training just as I got up for work but by the time I got back he was home which only happened the first few weeks I arrived so it was strange to see him here. Like always I headed upstairs to shower and change and when I came back out the bathroom Jude was sat on the bed waiting for me. I still didn't say anything to him because I'm trying to stay strong until I find the right time to tell Jude how I feel. 
"Babe are you ok you've barely spoken to me the last few days" he said 
"Yeah I'm fine just been busy had a lot on my mind that's all" I replied 
"Please don't lie to me I know there's something more going on I see the way you look all the time I just couldn't figure out what was wrong and now I give up so please tell me what's going on" he begged 
"I didn't want to say this yet because I'm still figuring things out but I think we should break up I just can't do this anymore" I said 
"Please no baby no I can't live without you whatever I've done I can fix it and I'm sorry just please don't break up with me" he said 
"It's nothing you've done it's just me" I said 
"Then what is it please tell me if you really want to do this at least tell me why" he said 
"I'm just not good enough for you every day there is new rumours of you being with someone else and all of them are prettier and have more going for them than I do and you deserve to be with one of them or to just be free to do what you want" I explained 
"But I want you that's what I want I don't want any of these girls nor is there anything going on with any other girl incase that's what you're thinking I like that you live a more normal life you keep me grounded and I think you are the prettiest girl in the world" Jude replied 
"Then why are you never home and why do you never compliment me anymore?" I asked 
"I-I'm sorry babe you're right I haven't been home much but I will change that I will come home after training and I will invite you to more things and believe me I could sit here for hours and compliment you and I'll do that if I need to" he said 
Jude did exactly what he said he started listing all the things he loves about me while giving me kisses. It felt so good to have his attention again it felt like we were back to how we were before I came to Madrid. After he complimented every single part of me he asked if I'd like to go out on a date like a proper date outside where people could see us and I didn't hesitate to say yes. Even if people see us who cares it's about time that we went public with our relationship then the rumours can be true for once. We have talked about going public a few times but now feels like the right time just so we can stop the media getting too far out of control 
I got all dressed up in a pretty dress and my makeup and hair all done for once I actually felt really pretty. When Jude walked in he had a white shirt and some black trousers on which he looked so good in. He stopped as soon as he saw me and I think his jaw actually hit the floor which made me blush and that was before he started complimenting me. The entire drive Jude didn't stop telling me how beautiful I looked which honestly made me feel so good about myself. 
At the restaurant there was people taking pictures of us walking in which Jude tried to protect me from a bit but we wanted to be seen together. It was weird being in front of so many cameras as I've spent years trying to avoid all of this but now I'm happily letting them all take pictures and stare at me trying to work out who I am so they can get their exclusive headline. The people in the restaurant were lovely though they showed us to our table then left us alone as much as possible which was nice as we were able to have a proper date night together. As we finished dessert Jude showed me all the pictures all over Instagram and Twitter then he showed me a post he had drafted to tell everyone about our relationship and put an end to everything. He had a beautiful caption written which nearly made me cry and all the pictures he had I hadn't seen before as they were ones he took secretly but they were all so cute. He let me click post so that it was my decision to go public then he took my phone and turned it off so we could enjoy the rest of our evening together without having to see what everyone has to say.
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rondoel · 4 months
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Quartz & Riebeck brainrot below! doodles + some snippets of my ponders about psychology & neurodivergence in hearthian society
(snippets but it's still very long! 😂)
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Started with the thought I like that Quartz is of the same age as Riebeck, making them of the same hatch bath and therefore having grew up together :D
(hanging out with Riebeck who is very cautious is probably the only reason Quartz even reached the adulthood)
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--
I think of hearthian society as potentially good place for neurodivergence because of its size and how they seem to function.
It makes sense for something like mentorships going on there where it comes to raising young - a hatchling picks an adult that resonates with them in some way and learns their craft. In small society it's very important to do what you're going to be good at. That would make a person that will be raising you the best fit for you.
I small society a common understanding would be that everyone is different. And again, it's crucial for those differences to be used in the best way. So no ostracizing, no assumption to "fit in" with the "norm". Endorsing those differences to progress.
Those things together create a fascinating environment for me to examine those traits in kind of a vacuum, where I can examine how person will function in society with just the traits they have - instead of mainly through lens of learned trauma responses, masking and social pressures.
--
I'm fascinated by the thought of these two naturally being thrown into the same box of "having a bit of difficulties with people" - while being just so NOT like each other (which later on becomes obvious, but early on they just hang out with each other because 'why not, we're both weird kids after all').
When it comes to social stuff Riebeck just doesn't understand how to relate and connect with others, and it's a big issue for them. While Quartz just doesn't want to participate because they don't feel this need at all.
So there's some common ground here - but they don't really understand each other. Which at some point they start to notice.
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(Riebeck - the only person to ever make Quartz laugh. at their misfortune. but. still)
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Where exactly the line lies in their difference came further in my research.
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It started with me wanting to find a better name for Quartz' neurodivergence. I was thinking about psychopathy and sociopathy and how neither are recognized as a official diagnosis. Especially not medically/neurologically.
So to examine it in hearthian society I wanted to know where is that line between actual neurological condition vs trauma response + adaptation. I wanted to know If there are traits that are there from the start.
Then I found about the Callous-unemotional traits (CU).
This name allowed me to find to find actual scientific research instead of some biased bullshit people have about psychopathy - and it was so good. The interesting thing about it is that it actually shows in infants.
In similar way to autistic traits.
So again, I started to research the links.
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I wanted to know hypothetically - what If those came from the same neurodivergence but psychopathy was a result of bad handling of those autistic traits? (far reaching, I know, but I wanted to know)
And then it turned out that NO. That those are very different! The difference most visible in different empathy responses.
I explored one of the differences in my last comic.
In which before Quartz leaves the planet for the first time - they want to actually confirm their suspicions.
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A thought provoking moment for Riebeck, after which (and just the way Quartz cuts themself off) they start to wonder whether just spending a lot of time with someone is enough to make you friends.
Even more jarring of a thought - to spend most of your life with someone and for it to not mean anything to them at all.
All those things combined, current Riebeck is mostly unnerved by Quartz.
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the-modern-typewriter · 11 months
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im sorry if this is too personal and you dont have to answer. How did you know you were asexual not Aromantic. I really don’t know the difference between romantic and platonic relationships once you remove sex from the equation.
To be completely honest, I know I'm asexual.
I say "biromantic" because:
I am open to a romantic relationship with multiple genders
I love the idea of romance and I want a romantic relationship
It feels easier to identify as biromantic and so stay open to romantic relationships, giving myself the opportunity to have more and new experiences to figure out exactly what I feel and want, then identify as aro when I'm not sure that's what I am or what I want. This is not to say your labels can't change. Biromantic just feels right to help me navigate relationships right now.
What counts as romantic is going to be personal to you and your relationship, though I know many people use the desire to kiss someone or hold hands with them as an indicator of romantic desire versus platonic.
I also know desire can be complicated by social expectations and the desire to belong/fit.
I'm not sure romantic attraction is something I've ever felt, but I don't have that much experience, so I don't find it helpful to rule it out. I know I've had strong feelings towards people before. I know I feel very strongly about my friendships and put a lot into them, so I'm very against the idea that romance means more/is more intense.
This may not help you as its not a handy definitive guide, but I thought I'd share anyway.
Ultimately, a label is there to help you navigate your desires /needs and communicate with yourself and other people. A label can also mean a lot of different things to different people.
E.g. my identifying as ace indicates a lack of sexual attraction, but otherwise doesn't necessarily mean I want the same things out of my sexual/romantic/personal life as another ace person. Broad starting point to quickly convey something key, not the end all.
It's okay to identify with whatever label is currently most helpful even if you're not 100% sure.
It's also okay not to put a label on yourself. I think especially at the moment we put a lot of pressure on ourselves and other people to KNOW, but this stuff is hard. You don't have to have it figured out.
You just have to try and listen to yourself in whatever situation you are in and try and be authentic and kind.
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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year
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Blue raspberry (Gavi x Reader)
28 day writing prompt challenge - prompts are here
Day 11: Late night McDonald's run
Warning: mentions/ alluding to eating disorders! Mentions of being scared to eat certain foods! If you're not comfortable please don't read!
"Pablo, I'm here, but they won't let me come into the parking lot because they don't recognize my car, so you're going to need to come up to."
"I'm walking up to you right now. Pull over to the side."
You moved your car from in front of the barrier to wait as close as possible on the side of the road. Despite the fact that it was 9:15pm, there were still about a dozen fans waiting to see the players emerge, hoping to get photos and autographs. You saw Gavi's hooded figure emerge, and he looked for your car. You flashed your lights to notify him where you were, but you notified the fans as well. They ran over and swarmed him, making it almost impossible to get to you. He took a few pictures and signed a few shirts before security intervened, separating him from his loyal supporters.
He got into your car and threw his backpack over his shoulder into the back seat, sighing and sinking into the seat. There was a path for you drive between the fans, and so you left Camp Nou and the flashes of iPhones behind you.
"Great. Now my Ford is going to be all over Twitter. People will want to get pictures with Gavi's chauffer. I'll never have a moment of peace."
He let out a tired laugh and pulled his hood down, finally relaxing as you hit the road.
"First of all, you already stick out for driving this obnoxiously American car in the middle of Spain. And second, why didn't you just tell security you were here to pick me up?"
"Gavi, can you imagine if security just let random girls in if they said they were there to see you? You would have been kidnapped a long time ago."
You rarely ever picked up Gavi. Your relationship was still relatively new, and he didn't want you to be hounded by the press and by people on social media making unfounded and nasty comments. Plus, he usually had a ride. He often arrived and left with Pedri, who was all too happy to have some company on his way to work in the mornings. If not Pedri, then another member of the squad (or even a member of staff) was always happy to make sure he got to and from practice safely (and didn't get snatched by a random fan).
But today, he was just in the worst mindset. It was freezing in Barcelona, and he hated to practice in the cold. As usual, he was slipping and sliding around the field, even more than usual due to the rain of the previous night. He was cold and wet, and he was being constantly critiqued by the coaching staff because he was just not in top form today. To make matters worse, he was starving. He had been following Robert's "healthy diet" advice, but sometimes he got so fixated on not eating the wrong thing that he just forgot to eat altogether. He had finished some weight training and was ready to hit the shower and go home when he got the news from Pedri.
"The Adidas reps are coming over to get me fitted for some new boots. I wont be leaving until 10:30."
Gavi almost cried at the news that he was going to be held at the Camp so late. He was exhausted. He was cold. He wanted to see his girlfriend. And so he swallowed his pride and called you, asking you to rev up the gas-guzzler and pick him up, even if it meant being photographed together.
"Mi corazón, are you okay? You're giving off more distressed vibes than usual."
"Honestly, I don't know," he replied, turning to look at you. "I've just been feeling drained and down. Everything is irritating me and I just want to sit in bed and do nothing."
A moment of silence passed. You didn't know what to say. You understood how Pablo felt: it was hard living up to so much pressure and expectations, and even if it wasn't full-blown depression, it was enough to make you worried. You didn't want these feelings to start interfering with his day-to-day, because you knew that would just make him feel worse. You weren't a therapist, but you wanted to do whatever you could to provide him with a little bit of comfort.
"... do you want to go to McDonald's?"
"What?" He said, looking over at you with his eyebrows stitched together in confusion, like you had asked the question in a different language.
"Well I mean when I've had a shit day I usually find myself in the McDonald's drive-thru. Nothing makes me feel as good as a 9-piece nugget meal and an Oreo McFlurry. But if you just want to go home I can just take you home."
"I... don't even remember the last time I went to McDonald's."
"Are you being serious?"
"Yeah. I eat a lot at the club and have my macros tracked by the nutritionists there. And then usually I'm with the boys and Eric or someone else cooks. And I don't have a car, so it prevents me from coming here for a McChicken whenever I want."
You drove for a few more minutes before turning into the drive through.
"Welcome to McDonald's what can I get for you?"
You placed your order, going a little overboard and getting everything that looked somewhat appealing. You turned to Gavi.
"What do you want?"
"All that food was for you?!"
"Quickly."
"Um... maybe I just get a small fries. I don't want to ruin all the work I've done by pigging out."
You looked at Gavi with wide eyes. It was dawning on you how much he was actually worried about his eating habits for fear of being ridiculed by the club.
"For him can I get a large McChicken meal with a blue raspberry slushie and- M&Ms or Oreo?"
"What?"
"Hurry up Pablo or we'll be here all night. M&Ms or Oreo?"
"But I- fine. Oreo."
"And an Oreo McFlurry. That's all"
You left the speaker, waiting in line to pay, and you looked over at Pablo, whos cheeks were bright red. He was looking directly in front of him, avoiding eye contact with you.
"What's wrong Pablito? You just said you liked McChickens."
"I do amor, that's not the problem." He said, looking at you. You took his hand in yours and laced your fingers together.
"It's just been a long time since I let myself eat this kind of stuff. And I mean I know that one time will be fine but I just... I don't know how to not feel guilty for having fried food for the first time in like a year."
You brought his hand up to your lips and kissed it gently, rubbing the back of it with your thumb.
"Pablo, you guys just won the Spanish Supercup less than a month ago - and you were in top form might I add. I know it's hard to let yourself have simple pleasures, but you deserve to have things that make you happy every now and then. And plus, this meal is probably better for you than two beers."
He smiled widely, leaning over to give you a gentle kiss. You reciprocated, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips against yours until the car behind you honked, causing you both to swiftly pull away.
You moved to the window, pulling out your wallet to pay.
"Corazón, you don't have to pay for the food. I can get it."
"Oh my God Pablo Gavi?"
He had forgotten to pull his hood up, and now the man at the window looked ready to faint. Pablo panicked. He did not want to be photographed in this moment.
"Why don't you get something for him to sign for you?" You asked sweetly, and Gavi squeezed your arm, greatful for your quick thinking. The employee ran off to find something for Gavi to sign.
"I think my card fell in my bag. Pablito, can you open up my McDonald's app on my phone so I can get the reward points?"
The employee returned, hands shaking as he handed you a shirt and a Sharpie for Gavi. The app lit up Gavi's face and just before he gave you the phone, his eyes got wide.
"Bebe, why do you have 7,000 McDonald's points."
".... I'm sad often. Hurry up and sign the shirt."
You got your food and drove back to Pablo's house.
"It's your obligation as a passenger to eat fries out of the bag while they are hot, and occasionally feed some to me." You said playfully. He smirked at you, grabbing some fries and taking a bite.
"Fuck."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just forgot how good fat and salt are."
At Pablo's house, he tried to set the food on the table, but you stopped him, grabbing the bag and skipping over to the couch. You set the food out on the coffee table and dimmed the lights.
"Why do the lights have to be off for us to eat?" Pablo asked, sitting on the couch and putting one arm around you, pulling you close.
"Because it's more freeing. Don't look and hyper-analyze what you're eating, Pablo. Just eat until you're full."
You unwrapped the burger and handed it to Pablo, following quickly with your own food. You put on an episode of your favorite show, and you two just sat and ate and cuddled. After 5 or 6 episodes, the food was cleared, and you and Pablo had situated yourselves on the couch. He was laying in your arms, and you alternated between eating ice cream yourself and feeding him spoonfuls.
"Bebe, I have a question?"
"Yes mi amor?"
"How did you know I was going to like blue raspberry?"
"Because you have the taste buds of a 5 year old, just like me. Why? Did you like it?"
"I loved it. I'm going to go and buy myself one every time I score a goal."
"Can I get in on this deal? I also like slushies."
"Of course mi corazón. How else am I going to get to the McDonald's? You'll be driving."
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A/N: Hey y'all! Hope you enjoyed this one. Inspired by my own late night McDonald's run (which actually tragically ended w me spilling half the food on the floor). If you haven't had a blue raspberry slushie from McDonald's (and it's available where you are) go get one. I have met so many athletes who have this mentality around fast food, and so I wanted to give a little bit of a different perspective. Anyways, I've really been enjoying this prompt challenge. I hope you are too. Please leave any comments or feedback here or in my asks, and see y'all later!
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weeb-polls-with-pip · 5 months
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Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Round 2
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Propaganda:
Amuro -
"Being a Newtype is just space autism to me. But also he sucks at falling in line in a structured environment, would rather work with machines than talk to people, and is only allowed as a child soldier because he's the bestest at big robots."
Kyouya -
"what's there to say? you know him. you love him. vote kyoya."
Euini -
"I relate a lot to his social anxiety, especially his performance anxiety that occurs when he's being watched by people, particularly due to his stress at needing to follow the plan/do things the "proper" way in order to not feel like he's a failure. he also stands like a lil autistic kid and i appreciate him so much for that.
(LIGHT SPOILERS) basically, he has a test that he needs to take in order to advance as a witch, and he keeps failing it because he cant perform properly while being watched by other people, even though he knows the "right" spells to use and why he's supposed to use them. on his third attempt of the test, he's prepared a "script" to use so that he can follow it and not worry about failing in the moment (in this case, his script is a hand-written book of the proper spells to use and the order in which he's supposed to use them), but when a part of the exam changes, he's no longer able to follow his script. because he's been taught all his life that there's only one proper way of doing things, his way of thinking is very rigid and he's not able to deviate from his plan without panicking. luckily, one of his fellow examinees (richeh from the autistic anime girls poll 💕) is able to convince him to try and change the way that he does things to something that is more attuned to his personal needs- basically change the way that he casts his spells and which spells to use so that he doesn't need to struggle with doing things in the way that everyone says that he should; the way that he cant seem to manage. but, even before richeh helped him with that though, he was still finding way to modify the "proper" spells a little bit to better suit his weaknesses. he was trying so hard to fit in to the mold that witch society gave him, but it just wasnt right for him and he was making it work however he could."
Aoi -
"He has a very devoted special interest in the idol Takada-chan, which he frequently imagines in fights and other situations… the moment someone (Itadori) expresses equal interest in something he is passionate about, he immediately declares them besties and brothers and creates a whole elaborate shared history for them that doesn’t actually exist. He’s not really interested in connecting with people who don’t share his interests. He’s seen as somewhat strange and eccentric. Though in the present he is respected because of his strength as a sorcerer, as a child he was very isolated."
Floyd -
"Has no emotional regulation skills and will make it everyone's problem. Prone to mood swings and can get angry at the drop of a hat, but can also be so goofy, silly, and lovely. Sways side to side for that good good stim, and loves to squeeze others (with violent intent and affectionate intent). Who doesn't love a good pressure stim? His interest in things can be fleeting, and his motivation to do things can change as quickly as his mood. Spontaneous and feral extraordinaire."
Apollo -
"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."
Ash -
"he just has those vibes ya know?"
Shou -
"His special interest is math. He uses math terms in regular conversations and calls people yoctograms/zeptograms which earned him monikers such as "math man" and "pi-face". Speaking of Pi, he once shouted 155 consecutive digits of it through a megaphone just because he could. He's so normal."
Sunny -
"Sunny has been told that his face is not expressive. He doesn't talk a lot and he often gets lost into his imagination. He is a great listener and recalls a lot of information being told he has a great memory (he is able to remember a whole speech about flower symbolism that his friend told him) He is compared to a cat."
Yuu -
"He’s like if an emo programmer boy was also completely unhinged and also had a tragic backstory."
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esthermika · 3 months
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being non-binary makes gender so easy. as long as I'm not called a man or boy or whatever. who cares about my voice, clothing, mannerisms or whatever else, i am me and no label can ever encapsulate that fully. its a huge burden off my back to know that no matter how i present i'm still being me. i don't need makeup or dresses or a beard or anything else to be me, to be authentic. are there parts of my body i don't like still? absolutely, but those can be changed until I feel comfortable. and i also don't need to perform femininity to be me, because part of me isn't a girl. i enjoy certain aspects of femininity but i can also discard those that don't fit me at the moment. it's liberating. i get to be a trans woman without the social pressure to put on a dress, makeup and learn to cook. being a demigirl is so cool.
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zenkindoflove · 2 months
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Elucien 4
4...where it hurts.
Okay, nonnie, I actually was pretty inspired by this prompt because it fit nicely with an idea I've had for a one shot for quite sometime. So you are getting more than a drabble today, my dear. This fic is dedicated to @crazy-ache who requested this idea from me a few months ago and I've been sitting on it.
Embrace (an Elucien one-shot)
Summary: Elain is on a journey of embracing her Faeness. When studying Lucien's pierced ears, an idea forms in her head that she can't shake. (~2,800 words)
Read on AO3 or under the cut
Elain swirled her drink in her glass, staring at Lucien’s earrings. He sat next to her on the pink sofa, engaged in a heated card game with Jurian. Jurian insisted on betting because otherwise, where was the fun if there were no stakes? There were two stacks of money on the table, mostly on Lucien’s side as he was beating Jurian senselessly. Vassa sat at the window, ignoring them, lost in her book. Nesta and Cassian had visited yesterday, still on their emissary duties and checking in with both Lucien and Eris, and Nesta brought the Queen the latest romance novel that had her and the other Valkyries swooning.  
That left Elain with nothing to do but to study her mate and his distinctly Fae beauty. 
Their relationship was slow and steady in its development. She arrived at the manor just two months before, determined to use her powers to solve Vassa’s curse. They hadn’t made much progress in that direction, but everyday Elain felt herself becoming more in tune with her powers, some of which had been surprising to discover. At first, it was awkward with Lucien, but once the ice broke, they quickly gravitated towards each other. Lucien insisted on helping her with her powers, and it allowed enough proximity that Elain found all of her reluctance concerning him and the bond chipping away day by day. As she suspected long ago, falling in love with Lucien was easy. She hadn’t told him that was what she was doing yet. The physical and romantic side of their relationship was so new, and Lucien was careful not to put any perceived pressure on her to be so forthright. But she had a feeling that those words would come tumbling out of her soon enough. 
For now, she sipped the whiskey he had poured her and studied the earrings that adorned Lucien’s ears. It was unheard of to see a human man wear jewelry in his ears. She read about pirates in some of the fairytales she consumed as a child wearing them. But she had seen that Fae were not shy about decorating themselves. Lucien embraced this part of Faeness wholly, with a gold hoop through his lobe, another in the cartilage just below where the point of his ear began, and just above that, a diamond stud. His other ear only had a gold hoop in his lobe as he opted for an asymmetrical style. 
“You’re a cheat!” Jurian shouted, throwing his cards down on the coffee table. He dramatically stood from his seat as Lucien heartily laughed at him. 
“I’m just better than you, Jurian,” Lucien shrugged his shoulders lazily. 
Jurian grumbled as he tore away and stalked over to Vassa, still engrossed in her book and not even looking up at his outburst. Without warning, he scooped her up from her chair, earning him a surprised yelp and some violent swatting. 
“Put me down, you brute,” Vassa scolded. “I was just getting to the good part.” 
Jurian peeked over to the page open in front of them, his eyes quickly scanning over the text. “Oh, well I can certainly do all of that for you. You don’t need this trashy book.” He plucked the book out of her hands and tossed it across the room. 
“Hey!” she protested but did little to fight him as he carried her out of the room, heading for the stairs. 
Lucien and Elain stared after them with knowing smiles. Every night was the same. After dinner, they would socialize and play games in the parlor, and every night, Jurian and Vassa would work themselves up into a mood until they quickly retired, their intentions of what they were leaving to do obvious. 
When they were gone, Lucien leaned back in his spot, relaxing against the back of the couch and throwing his arm up to extend behind Elain’s shoulders. He turned his mismatched eyes on her, his lazy smile now turning into a sly smirk. 
“Did you cheat?” Elain asked. She felt his fingers run through the ends of her hair as she turned her body sideways to face him. 
“I would never,” Lucien feigned innocence leaning forward to grab one of her legs that were folded together on the couch. He pulled her ankle over his lap, his touch light as he caressed her calf. Even through her stockings, she could feel the warmth radiating from his fingertips. “Jurian thinks he doesn’t have a tell, but I have his figured out.” 
Elain scooted forward until she was directly next to him, her leg now bent over his lap and his fingers trailing higher up. She played with the ends of his molten red hair, finding the braid he almost always wore hanging down from his temple. “What’s his tell?” 
Lucien inhaled deeply, and Elain knew he was likely scenting her, looking for a sign of what direction their evening would go. 
“He squints his eyes when he has a good hand,” Lucien said, and Elain could feel the vibrations of the deep timbre of his voice through his chest. “Like this.” 
Lucien did an impression of Jurian, his face strained in concentration as he pretended to look at a hand of cards. Elain giggled immediately, all too familiar with the face that Lucien mimicked. She saw it from Jurian often, realizing it did usually accompany some boastful display. 
The hand playing with the ends of her hair slid up to cup the back of her neck. Lucien leaned in close, his face hovering centimeters from hers. Elain braced herself against his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his shirt, which was splayed open over his chest as he relaxed for the evening. But Lucien didn’t kiss her like she expected, instead, taking the moments he lingered to breathe her in and running his fingers higher up her thigh. He was teasing her, she realized. Baiting her to make the next move and kiss him first. Elain almost did. She knew as soon as their lips touched, they would tangle themselves together, kissing, touching, and grinding until it became obvious that they needed to continue things in the bedroom where they could close the door from any prying eyes. But Elain had been turning an idea over in her head all day, and she wanted to express it before they lost themselves in each other. 
Elain trailed the hand touching his braid to his ear, running her fingers over his earrings. Lucien emitted a low hum, almost like a purr. She discovered with him how sensitive Fae ears were, especially the pointed tips. She loved the way he responded to her when she tugged at his earrings with her teeth. It often earned her a fiery return of his passion. 
“I had an idea today,” she started, rolling the smooth gold of his cartilage hoop between her fingers. 
“Mmm,” Lucien responded, his eyes closing. 
“I think I would like my ears pierced like this,” she announced. Lucien popped his eyes open, clearly surprised by her admission. 
“Really?” he asked. 
Elain spun the diamond stud, “Yes, is that hard to believe?” 
Lucien lifted his hand from her thigh and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen forward behind her ear. “You have been shy about your ears.” 
It was true. Once she was Made, she often wore her hair in a way that hid her ears. In the beginning, her ears were the biggest reminder that she wasn’t human. As time passed, she had gotten more used to her new body, and her ears didn’t bother her as much, though she didn’t really want to draw attention to them.
“I’m in a new era,” she declared, straightening her spine proudly. “Is it not common for Fae to pierce their ears?” 
“It is,” Lucien smiled up at her, dropping his arm around her from her neck down to her waist.
“And am I not Fae?” 
Lucien squeezed her, his smile growing wider. “You are.” 
“Okay then, I want to pierce my ears.” 
“Right now?” he asked, arching the eyebrow over his good eye. 
“Do we have the right tools for it?” 
Lucien thought for a moment and then grinned in triumph, “Come with me.” 
They unfolded their bodies from the sofa enthusiastically, hopping to their feet as Lucien guided them up the stairs to his room. Once inside, he immediately went to his closet, rummaging around. Elain propped herself on his bed, her mind wandering to the night before, when they had entered this room under different circumstances. Lucien had tossed her from his shoulder onto the mattress, pouncing on top of her before sealing his lips to hers. 
Lucien emerged from his closet, holding a sewing kit. He laid it down on his dresser, opening the drawer to pull out a velvet bag. He emptied the contents, several earrings falling out onto the top of the dresser. 
“So, how many do you want?” 
Elain was caught off guard. She hadn’t really considered that far. “I’m not sure.” 
“Okay, well, where would you like them?” 
“Here,” Elain touched her cartilage just below her point. “On both sides, I think.” 
Lucien nodded his head and plucked two diamond studs out of the pile. He opened the sewing kit, removing one of the thicker needles. 
Elain’s impulsiveness started to catch up to her. She hadn’t thought about how it might hurt. Her ears were pierced when she was eight years old at her mother’s insistence. She remembered being afraid and the sharp pain. But what she remembered the most was the healing afterwards, and how red and puffy her ears became and that it was uncomfortable to sleep. 
“What is the healing like, for fae? When I was human the process took several weeks.” 
“Well, I could heal you immediately. That’s what I did for myself when I did these,” he gestured to his ears. “And my nose.” 
“You pierced your nose?” Elain couldn’t disguise the shock in her voice. 
“Yep, when I was young in Autumn. My brothers teased me mercilessly for it and took turns trying to rip it out.” 
Elain’s excited joy turned sour, her protective instinct kicking up in her gut. Every time she heard stories about Lucien’s brothers, it made her feel violent and ill. Even though Lucien had explained that out of all of his brothers, Eris was the least of the worst, she still glared at him during their meeting yesterday. It seemed to only amuse him, and he called her little sister several times with mock affection. 
Lucien must have felt the pivot in her emotions down the bond because he turned to face her with a warm, knowing smile on his face. “Thinking of skewering my brothers again?” 
“Yes,” Elain crossed her arms over her chest. 
Lucien chuckled before leaning against the dresser and producing a flame in his hand. He ran the needle through it until it turned bright orange. He extinguished his flame and the metal turned black and then back to chrome. 
“Well, I’m afraid the only one who is getting skewered tonight is you, doll.” 
Elain restrained the comment that popped up in her head, failing to hide her wicked smile. Lucien stepped forward with the needle, eyeing her as he kneeled in front of her. He reached out and bopped the tip of her nose and winked, “You have a dirty mind. You need to focus.” 
Elain rolled her eyes and pulled her hair back. As she tied it behind her head, Lucien stood up and sat on her left side. 
“Are you sure?” he asked, his question free of judgment. Elain could tell that if she changed her mind, he wouldn’t think her cowardly. He was giving her the freedom to push her boundaries or pull them back, as was his way with so many of the things she explored these past two months. 
“I’m sure,” Elain nodded her head. “And healing me after sounds nice. I would like to be able to sleep on my side tonight.” 
Elain closed her eyes as Lucien leaned forward with the needle. He manipulated her ear some, examining it before she felt the sharp tip touch her skin. 
“I’ll do this fast,” he promised. “Now, take a deep breath in.”
Elain filled her lungs with air, pushing their expansion to their limit. 
“And exhale.” 
As she pushed her breath out, Lucien pierced the needle through her ear. She felt the tight sting, but it disappeared in a flash. Lucien stood from the bed, to grab one of the studs from the dresser. Elain could feel that the needle was still lodged through her ear. 
“That was a lot less painful than my memories from childhood,” she said, watching him carefully as he sat down next to her again. 
“This will hurt a little too,” he said. “But we can do the same thing.” 
Lucien guided her through changing the needle for the earring. Once it was in place, she stood from the bed and walked over the standing mirror in the corner of his room. It was the perfect placement for the shape of her ear. Elain admired the sparkle of the diamond, turning her head as the stone caught the dim light of the room. 
“Do you like it?” 
“I do,” she said. “Let’s do the other one.” 
Lucien was as gentle with her other ear as he had been with the first. When it was all done, and she confirmed she was satisfied, he healed each piercing one by one with a kiss. The light touch of his lips sent shivers down her spine that made her giggle shyly. When he was done, Elain tested them, spinning and tugging the jewelry. It felt the same as her lobe holes that had healed over 15 years ago. 
“That’s remarkable,” Elain said, impressed. 
Lucien smiled at her, “We could do some more if you want. Any place too.” 
Elain caught the wiggle of his eyebrows, and she placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what you’re implying, sir.” Though her mind wandered to some interesting places indeed. 
Lucien shrugged his shoulders and flashed her a playful look before turning back to the dresser to put the earrings and sewing kit back. Elain admired her appearance in the mirror again. Somehow, she felt more feminine now. She also felt a surge of pride. This was certainly not something any human women did, and even her sisters hadn’t embraced the practice, given that the Night Court was much more concerned with adorning themselves in tattoos rather than sparkly jewelry. But the only thought that crossed her mind was that this suited her. 
Strong arms pulled her close, and Elain could see Lucien in the reflection, pulling her against him. His breath was warm as it skittered across her neck. His lips traced the shell of her ear as he ran them up until he reached her point. Elain melted in his arms, her limbs covered in goosebumps. 
“Beautiful,” he whispered, his hand sliding down her waist as he caressed her hip. Elain pushed her backside against him, feeling his strong thighs against hers. He squeezed her as he pushed back, and Elain felt the evidence of his need for her pressed into her rear. 
He nipped at her cartilage, just over her new piercing, and the sensation was new and exciting. Elain dug her fingers into his hard forearms, tilting her head to offer her mouth to him. She hadn’t tasted him since this morning, and now, all she wanted was to fall into bed with him and taste every inch of him. 
Lucien kissed her lips with hunger, capturing her bottom lip. They moaned in unison and Elain turned to embrace him fully. They kissed in deep, sensuous undulations in front of the mirror, their hands touching and squeezing as they ran up and down each other’s torsos, their tongues in a tentative dance until the tension was too much to bear. Elain felt her feet leave the floor, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked them back to the bed, taking the opportunity to squeeze her soft flesh. She expected him to toss her on her back again, like he had last night, but instead he sat down, holding her close so she straddled his lap. Elain ran her fingers through the soft silk of his hair, devouring his mouth as she delighted in her position of control. Soon, Lucien was falling on his back and Elain was pinning him to the bed, rocking her hips over his, tossing her head back as her earrings glittered in the candlelight.
Kiss prompts.
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Hii!
Can I request an Aemond Targaryen x Reader fic where reader is from some other noble house(preferably a dark haired one, but anything is fine) and catches his eye? Like he thinks she is really pretty and attractive and Aegon kinda doesn't notice his brother's interest and flirts with her, and being a social butterfly, she flirts back, though it doesn't mean anything.
Aemond feels insecure but then he observes her and notices she is like that with everyone so he carefully approaches her, leaving her stunned, because she has never met someone that beautiful? He takes it in the wrong way, but then she shyly assures him that it is not what he thinks and tells him the truth?
lots of comfort for my war criminal poor little meow meow?
thank you!
(Sorry I am being to specific, feel free to modify the idea as you wish)
A Wolf Amongst Dragons
Hi! So this is my first time writing for Aemond, I hope it’s ok. I think I did maybe a little bit off the request you asked for, so if you want me to change things, or write a new request for you, I’m happy to do so. I think I could’ve upped the comfort and Aemond’s point of view of things.
Sorry, it’s a bit long, especially at the beginning, but I felt like it was important to add for clarity. Just for some context, I made it a Stark reader, the sister of Cregan Stark, to kinda help with the plot. The Starks, at least before Ned, weren’t as noble I’d say, so I’m kinda framing the reader as on the good side, but still with a bit of cunningness and antihero energy, which I think fits for Aemond, he’s also kinda in that in between area. 
I’m mentioning characters from the book, and then also ones briefly mentioned in the last episode of HOTD. You don’t need to know anything from the books, I’m just bullshitting all of this for this fic, so sorry if anything doesn’t make sense. I’m not basing this off any particular plotpoint, but it's based around the time Aegon is crowned King, and Rhaenyra is looking to the other Lords for support. Anyways, I hope you like it, let me know what you think!
(Warnings: swearing, insecurities, mentions of war, aegon being creepy, let me know if i missed anything)
You walked alongside with your brother, Cregan, speaking in hushed whispers as you navigated the halls. It was late into the night, and the castle slept soundly. He had barely given you any time to get dressed before he sent a collection of handmaidens into your room, who swiftly packed up your necessities and brought them to a carriage. In your confusion, you went to find him, only to be dragged by the wrist out into the cold, headed for the stables.
Cregan explained to you that the Maester brought him news of Lucerys Targaryen, who had been killed the evening before, seemingly by Vhagar, the younger Prince’s dragon. Lord Baratheon had immediately sent the news to their allies, still remaining neutral for the time being.
House Targaryen was now at war, dividing the kingdom. House Stark, never one to break an oath, was to receive Jacaerys Targaryen, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen’s first born son and heir. Winterfell was to play a key role in the following weeks, and Cregan had decided you were to leave, and head for King’s Landing. He had already sent a raven, alerting King Aegon of your impending arrival. He gave you no time to explain himself, tugging you along.
“Brother, I don’t understand! Why are you sending me away?”
Cregan didn’t slow his pace. “Because! Father would roll in his grave if he thought one of my first acts as Lord of Winterfell was to keep you directly in the path of harm's way.”
You caught his wrist, planting your feet and stopping his advance. Cregan turned to you, eyes sharp as he met yours. You, after all being your Father’s daughter, didn’t shrink under the pressure. Instead, you stood tall, demanding an answer.
“Explain, right now, or I am turning back. You can’t send me to the capital! The very people you’re saying killed Lucerys are there. You’ve heard the whispers about Aegon’s pervasive pleasures. Do you really think that usurper of a King would gladly welcome a member of a house pledged to the rightful Queen?”
“They don’t know our position–”
“Spare me, brother,” you interrupted. “I know you’re backing Rhaenyra, the whole realm knows it. Have you ever known a Stark to break an oath? We’re too noble to do the wrong thing. Gods only know why we’ve all collectively decided to put the men in charge, who can’t cast away their precious pride and honor. You’d think living up here in the cold would’ve hardened your resolve more, made you learn to chip away at the moral high ground you’re so content to stand on.”
Cregan’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward, catching you off guard. He looked you straight in the eye, finally pulling his wrist from your grip. 
“I would never risk your safety, sister. Don’t mistake my unusual choices for foolishness. I’d break every oath I’ve ever made if it meant keeping you and our house safe.”
You kept walking towards the stable, seeing that your efforts to stay were most likely futile, and you might as well accept your fate with a semblance of grace. 
“Then explain it to me,” you scoffed. “What’s your big plan?”
You couldn’t see Cregan’s face, as you were walking ahead of him, but you could feel him roll his eyes. 
“How kind of you to finally shut your mouth and give me the floor, sister.”
You groaned, waiting for him to continue. He let out a chuckle, before catching up with you to meet your stride, now walking alongside you. He continued explaining. 
“You have the right idea. Why send you if they think we’ll back Rhaenyra as Queen? Because they don’t know that, not for sure. However, if we keep you here, and all of the heirs here, it will certainly seem like it. Aegon will–”
“You mean Hightower? You know this must be his doing,” you interrupted. 
“Yes, that may be so, but he’ll deliver Aegon’s terms either way. The King will be expecting all the houses to be making a decision soon. He knows Rhaenyra will have sent word out to all the Lord’s who swore oaths to back her during her coronation while King Viserys was alive. I guarantee those gutless southern Lord’s have already declared for the King, but the North won’t be so easy to gain. Lord Baratheon said they sent Prince Aemond to deliver terms, along with a marriage pact, should they choose to back the King. That is a desperate act. Bold, but desperate. I expect something for us will be coming along soon as well. We’re going to beat them to it.”
You nodded, slowly understanding. “And what does this have to do with me? What is my purpose in all of this?” 
“We will receive Jacaerys, just as the King expects we would. But we’re sending you as an envoy of our house, to receive their terms in person. As much as I hate to admit it, you are a much more likable person than I.”
You laughed. “Yes, although I suppose that it is partially credited to me being a woman. A pretty face is the least the Gods could do for us in a world like this. We might as well learn to use it to our advantage.”
“So you do have some intellect rolling around in that brain of yours, glad to see you’ve finally caught up.”
Cregan dodged your attacks, narrowly missing a slap to the face, chuckling as he watched you nearly trip over the hem of your skirts. “Don’t do that in front of the King.”
“Oh, piss off. Get on with it, it’s freezing out here.”
“As I was saying before I was so rudely attacked,” Cregan continued, ignoring your glares.
“You’ll charm the court. As long as you are a guest of the Crown, especially with Queen Alicent likely still largely in control, you will not be harmed. They may be usupers, but they haven’t stooped so low as to betray and kill allies. So here’s what you do. You are to play the fool, as if you hardly understand what’s at stake. Don’t actually make a fool of yourself, but try to act passive. Uninterested in the fickle politics of war. You won’t be perceived as a threat, on the contrary, actually. The Crown may actually believe that you’re easily manipulated, and a good way to get to me and my backing for the war effort. You will be out of harm's way from here, and you won’t be harmed there, since you’re of some use to them. Additionally, you may be of some use to me. If you are able to, without risking exposure, write to me about what you see and hear, anything that will be helpful. I trust you’ll be discreet in the matter. Do you think you can do all of that?”
You finally reached the carriage, all packed with your belongings, along with two horses, and a squire acting as a driver. It was the best your brother could muster in the few hours he had to come up with a halfway decent plan. 
You turned to Cregan, grinning. 
“I must say, brother, I am quite impressed. One would think you almost have the mind of a woman, coming up with a plan like that. You didn’t even need my help.”
He playfully shoved you, rolling his eyes. “Alright, alright, stop it. I may have taken a page or two from your book, and tried to think how I thought you would. Hate to admit it, but it actually was quite useful.” 
You grinned wider, pleased with his praise, and he groaned, before pulling you into his arms to shut you up. 
“We don’t have time for this, Y/N. This is serious. We cannot afford to mess this up. Please be careful, and please, for my own sanity, try your best to not get killed. Or worse, engaged.”
You let out a chuckle, but it was weak, you suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation. You wrapped your arms around your brother’s waist, giving him a tight squeeze. You swallowed your emotion as he held you for a moment, before letting you go and helping you up into the carriage. 
“I believe in you, sister. You can do this. I’m sorry it came down to it, but it's for the best. We’ll see each other again soon enough. I love you.”
You nodded, letting him close the carriage door. You stuck your head out the window, waving and calling out. “I love you! Please be careful. Don’t make me come back here and kick your ass for getting yourself in trouble. Be smart, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
You could hear his soft laughter, but the carriage had gone too far to warrant a response from him. He just nodded, blowing you a kiss, before turning around and heading back into the gates of Winterfell. 
You settled into your seat, biting back emotion. You willed yourself not to cry, determined to make this journey a success, not only for you, but for your brother, for your house, and for the realm. 
It was a grueling journey, not stopping more than a handful of times for provisions, and having the carriage run throughout the night, but you had made it from Winterfell to King’s Landing in just over a week. 
It took the better part of the first day to have an audience with the King. A guard that had been introduced to you as Ser Criston led you through the castle halls after you had settled in, bringing you to meet the King. He led you to the Great Hall, opening the doors and allowing you to step in first. 
“I present the Lady Y/N of House Stark, sister of Lord Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. She is here on behalf of her house.”
You tried to keep your head held high, and your face stoic, while Ser Criston announced your arrival, but as you glanced around the room, you couldn’t fight the uneasiness settling in your stomach. 
The Iron Throne was empty. 
The King was nowhere to be found. Instead, to the left side of the throne, sat a woman in a green dress, who you could only assume to be Alicent Hightower, the Queen Mother. On the right side of the throne stood an older man, who you pieced together as Otto Hightower, father of Alicent, and Hand of the King. 
The rest of the Great Hall, except for a few Kingsguard, was empty. Neither the Prince or the King were in attendance, or the Princess who was now called Queen. Not that you expected to meet the entire family, especially on the first day, but you were told your audience was specifically to be with the King, which is what you spent the better part of a week alone in a carriage preparing for. The King’s Mother and Grandfather was not what you were expecting. 
“Come forth, Lady Y/N, don’t be shy. Ser Criston, assist her down the steps, if you will.”
Otto gave Ser Criston a command, and Ser Criston held out his arm for you, which you cautiously took. He guided you down the steps, all the way across the Throne Room, leaving you in front of the steps that led to the Iron Throne. 
You looked at the throne in wonder. You had heard stories of the chairs creation, how a thousand swords had been melted down and fashioned together to create a throne fit for a King. You had seen illustrations of it in books the Septa’s back home made you read as a child, but they paled in comparison to seeing them in person. 
“Would you like to take a closer look, My Lady? I see you’ve taken an interest in the throne,” an unfamiliar voice called out, dragging you from your thoughts. 
You turned to see the King himself, Aegon, entering the room from a back corridor. Your eyes widened as you took him in, and you suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to throw up. This was going to be harder than you anticipated.
“Your Grace,” you curtsied, trying to keep your composure. “It’s an honor. Thank you for agreeing to an audience with me on behalf of House Stark, it’s such a pleasure.”
You mentally cursed yourself for sucking up to such a pompous ass of a King, but as your brother said, you had to play the part. And if you were going to play the part, you were going to commit to the role. Your words seemed to be enough to charm him, making him smile as he approached you. 
“The pleasure is all mine, My Lady,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. You internally groaned, but kept a fake smile plastered on your face. You registered two more people entering from the corridor, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off the King’s.
“You must tell me, how are you liking the city? I confess, I’ve never seen Winterfell myself. I’m not fit for the cold, I’m afraid.” 
“I’m enjoying myself, thank you for asking. I am especially enjoying not having to wear a winter coat. They’re dreadfully heavy.”
Aegon looked you up and down, grinning. “Yes, I doubt that coat is doing you any favors. I can say with the utmost confidence that I prefer you without it.”
You felt sick to your stomach under his gaze, but you managed a giggle, feigning over his words. “You flatter me, Your Grace. You’re too kind.”
“Such a lovely Lady as yourself deserves some flattery. You’re welcome here, My Lady. Enjoy your stay. I expect you to come to me specifically if you need anything. Anything, just ask, and if it is within my power, it’s yours. I can be quite persuasive when it comes to getting things I want.”
You heard a scoff off to the side of the room, and you spared a glance to see the younger Targaryen, Prince Aemond. 
You had heard tales of him and his appearance. A ghastly scar, an eyepatch fit for a pirate, with a personality that mimicked that of his dragon. You only glanced briefly, but from what you saw, the accounts of him were entirely wrong. He was quite handsome, at least from the distance and quick glance you viewed of him. 
Aegon ignored his brother's antics, giving you another warm smile, before excusing himself. Half the Kingsguard followed him out, the rest hanging back for the remaining family. The now Queen, Helaena, walked up to you, looking at you quizzically. 
“A wolf amongst dragons,” she murmured. “A seer and a watcher. The waltz of frosts and flames.”
She spared a glance at her brother, Aemond, before turning back to you. 
You smiled at her words, glad to be around an inquizical mind. You got the feeling that the Queen’s intelligence was dismissed as an oddity, underappreciated and neglected.
“Your Grace, it’s a pleasure. You’re as beautiful as the tales tell.”
The Queen’s cheeks flushed. “Please, call me Helaena. I do prefer it.”
“As you wish, Helaena,” you nodded. “But I must say, ‘Queen’ has a nice ring to it when it’s referring to you. I do hope you come to see that.”
You snuck a glance at Otto and Alicent, who seemed to be exchanging amused glances. Whether you had peaked their interest, or you actually managed to impress them, it didn’t matter. What mattered is that you’d successfully somewhat charmed them, which would work to your advantage for the following days when you'd try to report back to your brother. 
You spent the following days mostly around Helaena, who was surprisingly delightful to be around. Her storytelling abilities fascinated you. She often murmured variations of what she had first said in the throne room to you, about a wolf amongst dragons. It didn’t take much for you to figure out she was referring to your presence in the castle. What did strike you as odd was her wording of “the waltz of frosts and flames,” but you found that questioning her hardly ever resulted in a clear answer.
You also spent a lot of time with Alicent, who seemed to follow wherever her children went. More often than not, though, she was with Aegon, who you tried to avoid like the plague. You did your duty of making small talk, trying to keep his interest in you positive, but his advances on you were getting harder and harder to ignore. 
In truth, the only member of the family you rarely saw was Aemond. Although, that was not entirely true. You actually saw a good deal of each other in passing, but words were hardly exchanged, rather than stolen glances. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you couldn’t get yourself to look at him full on for long. It appeared he was the same, as he’d turn his head away from you often when you looked his way. 
You spent one evening with Helaena, going on a walk around the courtyard. She took you to meet her dragon, Dreamfyre. On the way back, you saw Aemond, soaring through the sky on the back of Vhagar, before finally landing. You watched him from a distance as he dismounted, heading into the castle. 
Helaena cleared her throat, bringing you out of your thoughts. “You look at my brother quite a lot, you know.”
You quickly turned to her. “What? Aemond?”
“I suppose it’s normal. He does the same to you.”
She spoke like it was the most nonchalant thing in the world, not even bothering to turn to you as she talked.
“I don’t understand,” you shook your head.
“I’ve hardly seen the two of you speak, but I see the two of you stare. The day you arrived, I came in with Aemond. You were speaking to Aegon, so I assume you didn’t notice us come in. Aemond looked at you differently than I’ve ever seen him look at someone. You’ve certainly captured his attention. It’s clear he thinks you're beautiful.” 
“Is he not betrothed?” You asked, seeming to recall your brother mentioning a marriage pact with Lord Baratheon. 
“Not to my knowledge. Mother is very particular about him. I suspect she would want to personally approve a match for him. My brother isn’t suited for the average Lady. Mother will want someone who knows how to be with him.”
Your brows furrowed. “So, what did you notice? The day I arrived, I mean. How does he look at me differently than any other woman?”
Helaena pondered the thought for a moment. “You’re a wolf amongst dragons. That may have already been enough for him, but it’s not all. He’s a watcher. He prefers the corner of a room, rather than being the center of attention, unlike my husband. He watches people, like he’s analyzing them.” 
You nodded, slowly understanding. “What does that have to do with me?”
“You do the same. You’re a seer. You see people for who they are, not for who they want you to see. I know you saw through Aegon’s words the day you arrived. You see him for what he is. And I think you see Aemond for what he is. I think his fascination is in your ability to do that.”
“Truthfully, I don’t think I see the Prince for what he is. I haven’t been close to him for long enough to really know.”
Helaena offered a small smile, turning to head back for the castle. “I think you’ll see the waltz begin soon, Y/N. It’s already started for him.”
Helaena was right. You saw more and more of the Prince, seeming to collide paths with him frequently, if only for a fleeting moment. You found yourself stuck on him, and your thoughts often drifted to him. It puzzled you, what his fascination with you was, and you wondered what he was thinking about when he saw you. He was one of the few men you couldn’t immediately get an accurate reading on, and it troubled you. 
You began finding reasons to cross paths with Aemond, just so you’d have a few extra seconds to try and figure him out. You still rarely spoke to each other, only in passing, or in group settings with other members of the family. 
It was becoming a tedious process, for the both of you, although you were unaware of his own ambitions towards you. One of you was going to cave and approach the other, it was bound to happen. It turned out to be Aemond who pushed the boundary. 
One evening, after dinner, you took a walk to the courtyard. You sat, watching the stars, when you heard a voice you knew all too well. 
“Looking at the stars, My Lady?”
You quickly turned around, shocked to see that he actually approached you. You cleared your throat, nodding. 
“Yes. Are you familiar with any, My Prince?”
He nodded, moving to stand beside where you were sitting. 
“I’ve studied them quite a lot, actually. May I?”
You nodded, scooting over to make room, and he took his place beside you. You were tense, not used to being that close to him. He pointed up into the night sky at a cluster of stars. 
“That’s the constellation Aquila. It’s an eagle. See the V shape? That’s the head. Where it expands and the line of stars that goes down is its wings.”
You nodded, but you weren’t even looking at the sky. You were taking it as your chance to get a good look at him, for what felt like the first time. 
His features were sharp, those of a royal. His cheekbones were prominent, and he had a strong jaw. Despite the hardness of his face, he still had a soft elegance to him. His hair was shining under the moonlight, almost reflecting silver. The scar covering his eye was now a faded white line, with the faintest hints of pink in the cracks of it. It was one thing to possess one or two of those traits, as the Targaryens often did. But his features were striking, each complimenting the next. 
In this light under the stars, he was nearly ethereal.
He must’ve felt your gaze on him, because he turned to meet your eyes, catching you staring. 
“My Lady?”
You quickly shook your head, clearing your throat. “I’m so sorry, that was rude of me. I got distracted.” 
He looks unsure of himself, cocking his head to the side. “By what?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, unsure of what to say. “You? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone like you before. Not very many people look like you.”
He turns his head at your words, like he’s trying to shield his face from your view. His shoulders slump, and he looks down at his lap, and you know you’ve said something wrong. 
“It’s the scar,” he finally says. “Isn’t it? The Gods must’ve found it amusing, adding it to the collection of some rather unappealing features. It’s not pretty, I know. Believe me, I know.”
Your breath hitched, and you're unsure of how he could’ve twisted your words into knots so tight. You wondered what kind of torment he could have possibly endured to consider the scar a punishment from the Gods, as if the rest of him wasn’t already punishment enough.
“You’ve misunderstood me, My Prince, that isn’t what I meant at all–”
“Savor your words,” he interrupts. “I don’t need you to spare my feelings.”
He stands up brushing himself off. “Goodnight, My Lady.”
“Wait,” you start, trying to get up before he dashes off somewhere. You can see him, looking for the best escape route, like a cornered animal. You’re muttering apologies, and he’s brushing them off, trying to find a way to leave you. He turns to go.
“Wait!” You catch his wrist, and you can feel his body go rigid. But he stops in his tracks, slowly turning back around. His full attention is on you, and you're afraid you’ll crumble under the pressure of trying to find the right words to say. 
“Please sit back down,” you ask, pleading with him. He looks unsure, like he’s seconds from saying no.
“Please, Aemond.”
That’s enough to get his resolve to soften, and he finally relents. He lets you lead him back over to the spot where you were sitting. You take a seat, and look up at him expectantly, until he finally relents. He takes his place beside you, quiet. 
“You misunderstood me, Aemond. I meant no offense, and I’m sorry if it came off that way.”
He’s quiet, not meeting your eyes, seemingly very interested in his lap. He doesn’t stop you, though, and you take it as your cue to proceed.
“You know, sometimes I find it hard to look at you.”
You can see the slightest hint of a flinch at your words, and you’re quick to recover.
“I find it hard, because when I look at you, I’m quite literally rendered speechless, and that’s a rare occurrence for me. You just…you have such striking features.”
You watch him as you speak, and it's almost as if you can see the gears turning in his head. 
“I know it comes with being a Targaryen. The silver hair, the sharp features, you all look like royalty without even trying. But you…you’re more. You’ve got this etherality about you, and I can’t quite place why that is.”
You’re scanning his face now, looking at all the little nooks and crannies that you’ve somehow just now noticed. 
“And your scar, it's a part of you. There’s no shame in it, Aemond. It’s proof you fought a battle, and won. Wear it with pride. I don’t know what people have said to you about it, or what you’ve been told over the years, but they’re wrong. Every single one of them. They’re wrong.”
You almost don’t do it, but you can’t stop yourself, reaching a hand up slowly to cup his cheek. He’s still, it being his turn to watch your face now. He’s scanning for disgust, or pity, or any other emotion that he thinks will make you think less of him. 
But then you’re running a thumb across his cheekbone. And you're ghosting a finger down his scar. You’re being so gentle and careful with him, and you have nothing but adoration and genuine awe on your face as you take in his appearance, like you’re really seeing him for the first time. You could look at him for hours, and not grow tired of it.
And he’s melting. 
You reach up to tuck a stray strand of silver hair behind his ear.
“You’re beautiful, Aemond. Don’t let anyone make you feel any different. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before.”
You can tell nobody has ever talked to him like this, or been this genuine with him, and he doesn’t know what to do or say. 
“What you said, about the constellation. It’s fascinating, that out of all the stars in the sky, you picked the eagle. The watcher. That’s what you are. Funny, how I’m just now seeing it for the first time. It feels like I'm really looking at you for the first time, too.”
“It seems the Gods have reconsidered,” he says, finally looking at you, with pink cheeks and a small smile on his face. “Or, rather, Helaena was right.”
“About what, My Prince?” You smile, unable to stop yourself when his smile is so pretty.
“The waltz, My Lady. It really has started. And it only took a couple stars.”
A/N - Hi! I hope this wasn’t shit, I feel like I started off strong and it got weaker, but I’m still figuring out how to write for Aemond, so bare with me. Let me know what you thought :)
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allsadnshit · 6 months
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healing my relationship with femininity has been so important this past couple years and I think sometimes the way it's talked about can make it so much harder and so shameful for a lot of people to admit they struggle with because there's so much rhetoric about like "are you a girls girl or not?" and like a very black and white cold "girls who don't have girl friends are RED FLAGS! TOXIC! EVIL! TRAITORS" when I think in reality it's such an obvious sign of wounding to not be able to connect with women, whether growing up or in adulthood.
for myself it stems so largely from being raised by a single father and older brother and having my literal connection to women (my mom) severed really traumatically early in life when she passed and to fit in and be included in family things always meant having to sacrifice things I might have liked at the time like tea parties and barbie and being forced to watch action movies and male sports just to get quality time and attention in my home because they never made time for my interests as a young girl and were passively dismissive of them too (never let me pick the music cause I'd play "girlie stuff", never wanting to watch the movies I wanted to see in theaters meaning I also just didn't get to see them, having any feminine interests and hobbies be less celebrated) and it really shaped me.
somewhat naturally there was a glaring disconnect between not just myself and men who I couldn't seem to become communal with even if I shared all the same hobbies which I tried very hard to do like getting into yu gi oh and kung fu, but when I'd be put into situations with all other girls I felt isolated and clumsy because I didn't watch the same movies, didn't know how to do things like cute hair styles or braiding, and was just generally behind and felt much more like an observer than like I had any place in it.
I've always had girl friends but they were often isolated relationships with girls who also struggled with their girl relationships and were otherwise bullied or cast out, and those relationships even though sacred to me also often would become poisoned with jealousy and comparison because society pits women against each other especially growing up it felt like a literal competition and it's so common to be ranked by boys and even other girls and adults in terms of who's prettier or most desired which is really strange to apply to an already vulnerable dynamic in a formative part of life.
Because of a mix of all these bad circumstances I've really rejected myself and a lot of my natural connections to girlhood and women and I think it felt like an easier and safer route to just disconnect entirely which is what I did for most of my life until around the time of the first lock down when I was very privately buying girl clothes for the first time in years and experimenting with the idea that I'd like to allow myself some movement and fluidity with my relationship to gender. It really makes me sad the way so much of society makes us feel we need to do things a certain way or see ourselves a certain way to be living "correctly" when I think it's a very personal journey and being scorned and shamed for what we do or don't do makes us self conscious and unable to act naturally. I've gotten a lot of nasty comments from women who feel it should be easy to connect with women because they have gotten the privilege of healthy relationships with mothers, grandmothers, sisters, and friends and so feel that anyone who hasn't is just toxic and doing it to themselves which I just find extremely unkind and self interested.
and that's part of why I reject terms like "girls girl" even as I lean into healing my relationship to femininity and relationships with women and the social pressures we face. I know that term came about originally with the intention of expressing a relationship to women that was non competitive and based on mutual respect and care, but it's been transformed and used now in a really hatefully isolating way and I do not claim it or the energy towards other women it gives off of not seeing their humanity and flaws as places to grow and be loved through but as a reason to further disengage from.
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genshinfanboy · 10 months
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His childhood friend
|Hello everyone who sees this. I'm finally back kinda my writings this is not the work in progress I mentioned before that one is still a wip. I will still be slow but that's no surprise to those who follow me. This will be a childhood friends au. The reader isn't the traveler. Anyways feel free to change the pronouns to fit your own. Please enjoy and have a wonderful day or night.
Scenario: He was typically alone in his youth very few he'd actually call friends. Though you were always there beside him. If anyone dared to say anything bad about him with you around you'd always come to defend him. He didnt care what was said about him but knowing you were there was endearing to him. As you both grew up he developed a bit of a crush on you. How could he not become enamored by you after all you were always there when he needed someone.
Alhaitham x A Male Reader
Warnings: Mentions of bullying, alcohol and being drunk in Alhaitham's, minor angst ending with comfort, some big and small spoilers for archon quests as well as character stories, and long|
Alhaitham:
It's not a surprise to many people to know the scribe wasn't liked by many people. He knew this as well and chose willingly to ignore the comments said behind his back. His senior Kaveh only seemed to add to them but he knew Kaveh wasnt a bad person. While he wasn't liked by many of his peers it didn't bother him much.
He didn't care about their opinions as they didn't matter much to him. Though he'd be lying if he said no one's opinions mattered to him. His long time friend's opinions mattered. More than he'd ever be willingly to admit out loud. They grew up together after all not many could blame his thoughts even if they did seem irrational. It seemed he wasn't the only person that had his eyes on this person. (Name) were objectively attractive and super kind.
He remembers fondly when they had met as he traversed home. The two met because (Name)'s parents were good friends with his grandmother. His grandmother was asked to watch the other for his parents who went on an expedition to the desert. The other wasn't considered a genius by the Akademiya standards unlike himself.
Though their differences in intelligence didn't seem to deter his dear (Name). In fact it seemed he wanted to be Alhaitham's friend even more due to that fact. He wanted to be there to support him or talk if needed. He knew the pressure put on those considered geniuses by the Akademiya. He would constantly ask what Alhaitham was reading and read it too. It'd take him more time to read the book but he was always excited to hear what scribe had thought.
He had a knack for caring for others. (Name) was gentle and caring. Whenever someone got injured hed tend to them best to his ablitlies. Alhaitham remembers back to his akademiya days where (eye colored) male would tend to Kaveh when his senior would get injured.
There were also others who'd intentionally fall in front of him to get his care. He was wildly popular kind of like Tighnari. The abount of people who would do things to get (Name)'s attention. The scribe sometimes wished he was clumsy to be treated by his best friend like others. Whenever he was sick the other would dote on him and he did enjoy it.
Whenever he was sick Alhaitham could feel his gentle hands check his temperatures. He both hated and loved being sick. On one hand he'd receive all of (Name)'s attention but on the other he'd feel awful. It wasn't like he was sick often. He took very good care of himself.
During his time in the akademiya the other could tell when he wasn't interested in interacting with others. (Name) would take any attention off of the scribe and put it on himself. That way Alhaitham could read in peace. It was nice to know someone cared about when he didn't wish to socialize.
The memories soon became a bit bitter for the scribe. His dear friend had been away in another nation for what felt like a long time. (Name) was an amurta scholar that left a year ago to learn about plans in Mondstadt. He only knew the other left when a letter arrived at his desk. During the time he was unable to leave while dealing with the grand sage situation.
Once it was resolved he still had to deal with being the acting grand sage. Which meant he had to deal with the hive mind situation. Not once did he get another letter. His roommate had made some comments about him being more irritated than normal. He brushed off what Kaveh had said of course. Though the architect was the only person who knew of his best friend. His words did have some merits to them.
Alhaitham was typically supportive of the other's academic endeavors however he left without a word in person this time. It hurt him quite a bit but none could tell. Things had finally calmed down for him and as irrational as it was he was super tempted to take a leave of absence and make the pointless travel to Mondstadt. He'd rather do nothing at all if he takes a leave of absence.
It was driving him mad not being able to see him for long. Alhaitham was used to seeing him at least once a day every day. Now it's been a year. The only thing he's gotten from the other was a gift that arrived on his birthday. Thinking on everything made his mood sour a bit.
The dendro user never thought someone could effect him to the point others notice a shift in his attitude. Which he was wrong about both Cyno and Tighnari had told him he seemed longing for something or rather someone. He rolled his eyes remembering the phrases they used. He turned his music up not wanting to hear anything around him.
Alhaitham's thoughts had become too disorganized for his preference. He brought out the book he'd be reading. He still paid attention to his surroundings effortlessly avoiding bumping into anyone or anything. He started to sort through his thoughts. Then something Kaveh had once mentioned became the loudest. "You know if you had just confessed your love he may have never left." Repeating itself in his mind.
(Name) certainly didn't expect to run into Kaveh when he returned to Sumeru. The young male couldn't say he was angry to run into the blond. His eyes quickly looked over the other. "You seem to be same as ever Kaveh. Why are you mopping around this time?" He asked with a smile. There were several comments about him being handsome and shining by those around them. He ignored everyone else and focused on the blond.
Kaveh's crimson eyes widened and he quickly rubbed them as if the person in front of him was an illusion. "You're finally back! Maybe now Alhaitham will finally get off my back a bit. You know since you left he's colder than ever. Not to mention the way you left him without a proper farewell had made his fuse so short. You really couldve parted in a better way. I heard he'd reject several thesis essays for minor errors the week you left." He quickly scolded forgetting about his previous stupor and worries.
The amurta scholar frowned and stepped closer. He pinched the others cheek slightly for talking poorly about his best friend. He always hated others speaking badly of Alhaitham even if the scribe could care less. "You need to stop being so hard on him. I swear your both like fire and ice sometimes. Yet both of you haven't convinced me you actually hate the other. You can't convince you both dont care. After all you both know too much about the others behaviors and moods. However since this past year has clearly been so hard on you how about I treat you to a meal at lambads? Then after I can walk you home and pay him a visit? I got him when i was leaving Mondstadt." He said patting his bag
Kaveh huffed at them a bit. "I keep telling you he's the worst but you never listen. You think that someone who has as much attention as Tighnari you'd find someone else to spend your time with. You know there are several people who requested me to give you their love letters. They all seemed to disappear before I could send them to you." He said rubbing his cheek. The two started walking to the tavern. Their conversations were pleasant and catching up on the past year. Several more passersby comments were made about the amurta scholar.
(Name) was used to hearing them and simply ignored them all. They've followed him since he was a child. They only bothered him when people would comment about Alhaitham. He remembered hearing several people making comments about him and (Name) got in a lot of arguments defending him constantly.
People would say that Alhaitham didnt care about him and that He didn't care and would continue doing it until his final breath. It's not his fault that people couldn't see the good traits of the tall scribe. He would argue with anyone who claimed that. They didn't know him and would just make assumptions about it.
During their outing at the tavern ended with Kaveh becoming intoxicated from the amount of drinks he had. Some wondered if they should contact Alhaitham to come collect him. (Name) reassured them he'd take the architect home amd there was no need to bother anyone else. He dragged Kaveh to the residence he lived in with the srcibe. "Kaveh please tell me you have your key." He said worried Alhaitham may have once again taken it by mistake.
Kaveh in his intoxicated state checked for his keys and realized he had them for once. He also reminded the other that he can't tell anyone of his living arrangements. He handed the amurta scholar his key not trusting his own coordination. (Name) was definitely surprised that the blond had remembered his keys. He unlocked the door and helped the older male inside. His eyes met with duel covered ones.
To most the eyes would seem uncaring as usual but there was definitely shock in them. He gave a smile to the scribe. "So you finally decide to come back and choose to dump a drunk Kaveh on me." The sliver haired male stated. The scribe had a bitterness in his tone. Which earned a laugh from the amurta scholar. "I plan on staying for a bit to catch up with you unless I'm no longer welcome here. If that's the case then I'll put kaveh in his room and leave." (Name) teased. He knew Alhaitham was upset with him but there was no hate in his tone.
Alhaitham admittedly got a little jealous watching the other carry Kaveh. The lighting in the house made him look perfect. The blond's arm around his neck and his arm around the other's waist. "Do as you wish. I know trying to convince you otherwise is pointless. After all you always do what you want. Just like all of those pointless fights you got into on my behalf. There is always the example of you leaving out of the blue despite promises we made." The silver haired male said looking up at the other holding his drunk roommate. There was definitely bitterness in his tone.
"Those fights were not pointless. They dared to slander you." He said. (Name) frowned he knew what the other had been talking about. When they were in their teen years he promised Alhaitham he'd always be by his side.
Alhaitham had graduated and their schedules grew hectic. They saw each other less and less especially while (Name) was working on getting through his studies. Alhaitham had made a comment about how maybe it'd be better if they stopped hanging out for a bit just like others had mentioned. Which seemed to upset the other who vowed that no matter what he'd stay by Alhaitham's side.
Even if it meant doing his assignments in the archive or next to him reading. He refused to give up on their friendship which admittedly warmed the scribes heart. There were a few occasions where the amurta student had fallen asleep when they were reading together due to pulling an all nighter to spend some more time with Alhaitham. (Name) promised he'd always be there for the scribe nothing would stop him.
He gave a sigh remembering the promise before taking Kaveh to his room so they could talk in private without Kaveh sulking over clients he's been dealing with. His guilt for his actions came up as they clearly effected his friend. He shook it off a bit then came back to the living room and noticed his long time friend had already marked his place in his book and closed it.
The silver haired male had his arms crossed seeing the other return. The look in his eyes was hard to read but if (Name) had to make a guess it would be anger and hurt. The room was silent and the mood was suffocating. The lights in the room suddenly became super interesting. Guilt building even more.
"Do you hate me for breaking our promise and leaving Sumeru?" He asked remaining standing. If the other said yes to his question he'd probably rush out knowing he messed up everything. He didn't want to sit anywhere near the other because he was understandably upset with him. "Without saying a proper farewell." The silver haired male added avoiding the question intentionally.
His duel colored eyes watching the other intensely as if waiting for something to happen. There was no sign of him going to respond to the other's question. Those multicolored eyes showing several emotions. Making guilt grow more. (Name) feared that his actions were mistakes.
"I couldn't say by to your face as I would've lost all will to go to Mondstadt. I thought of telling you in person but everytime I felt sick trying to think of the words to say. I needed to do it. I can't blame you if you now hate me or are upset with me. It's super hard for me to say no to you all it would take would be one word from you and my resolve would crumble in your hands. I know that doesn't excuse my actions and you deserve to have been........" as the amurta scholar started rambling he looked away from the other not able to keep eye contact anymore. His tone quiet and sad.
He skidishly made his way closer to the nearest wall. He leaned against it. He knew that he had no right feeling saddened bringing this up. If (Name) was being honest he may have avoided Alhaitham for a bit longer had he not ran into Kaveh. He looked at the entrance wondering if Alhaitham was going to be critical of his reasonings. He completely lost all the confidence he had when he brought Kaveh home.
Alhaitham stood up and walked over to the other. His body was reacting instinctually. He let it too. He felt as though his dear friend would run off the moment he said much. So just as his long time friend was about to continue his ramblings he caged the other between himself and the wall with arms to both sides of his head.
"Stop rambling and get to your point. What was so important exactly that you left for a year? Not only that but instead of telling me in person you choose to just leave a letter on my desk." He said pressing his body against the other's. His eyes met (eye colored) eyes. He was trying to get a read on the other's thoughts but the other was avoiding his stare. He placed one of his hands on the amurta scholars chin and forced him to look at him.
(Name) had no choice but to look into the duel colored eyed man. His heart was pounding in his chest he was worried at their proximity the scribe would feel it. "I wanted to look into something. It didn't have to be Mondstadt persay. Any other nation was fine. Mondstadt is just the one that was approved first so I went there. I was confused on a lot and needed to clear my head. I needed time to think things out. I sorted things out which is why I have returned." He answered still trying to look away to no avail. The scribe's hand keeping his face in place.
"You failed to take my feelings into account with all this. I would've been happy to aid you with what confused you. After all problems have multiple solutions. You never had a problem with me looking over things before or helping you talk through a problem before. Did you actually listen to what others said?" Alhaitham's voice started becoming quiet. His heart was heavy. His hand holding the other's chin fell to his side. He may needed to step away.
"Was leaving really necessary? It hurt that I meant so little that you couldn't tell me farewell in person. I found out after you already left that you were gone. Others had known about you leaving. You told Kaveh in person yet all I got was a letter only. Typically I take promises with a grain of salt. I thought your's meant something as youre not like everyone else." Alhaitham pressed looking at the other. He noticed their face had become red. He figured they must've drank a few drinks with Kaveh. The alchohol must've finally reacted in the amurta scholar's system.
Alhaitham's other arm dropped realizing this fact. He felt heart broken that (Name) couldn't have this conversation sober. His mind was racing with confusion and sadness. Maybe he should stop this conversation cause it seemed to hurt him more than the other leaving him.
He didn't wish to but pulled away. Here he was thinking irrationally again. Bothered about what others have said about their relationship. He was about to walk off but felt a hand around his wrist as if the other knew he was going walk off and not see him for awhile. His normally stoic expression changed for a moment. It revealed his frustration and anger about the situation at hand. "Let go of my wrist (Name). I dont want to talk anymore." He said. There wasnt enough will in him to pull his arm away forcefully.
"You were the one that was confusing me. Alhaitham it was never that you meant so little to me. You mean too much to me. If I saw you I wouldn't have been able to sorted things out and would've gave up on the entire thing. I've always been by your side and I wish to continue that. Which made it hard for me to figure out how or when my feelings towards you shifted from romantic. If it was a problem you could've solved I would've ran to you." (Name) admitted he held on to the other's wrist a bit tigher. As if letting go would cause the silver haired male to disappear from his sight. He was aware of his grip to not hurt the scribe's hand.
The guilt hit (Name) full force. His eyes started watering at the realization of what he did. However he refused to let go. He knew he should and everything he did was cruel and unfair to his dear akademiya genius.
The amurta scholar was super red and looking away trying to hide it along with his eyes. The room had become a suffocating silence again. The scribe looking at him with wide eyes. "How much did you end up drinking with Kaveh? It this some kind of joke you planned. After all you sound illogical. Leaving me to sort that out. What kind of answer did you come to? That you don't need to be by my side anymore? You get attention from everyone around no matter where you go. Why would I matter?" He said running his free hand through his hair.
Alhaitham was surprised his response made the other look at him finally. He saw the tears forming and got upset at himself. He shouldn't have lashed out like that. "I'm perfectly sober Alhaitham. I made sure I would be. I planned on bringing Kaveh home after I ran into him because it'd force me to come talk with you instead of being a coward and running away. After all confessing that I'm in love with you may make you hate me. Being away from you after years of seeing you all the time sucked." (Name) said.
He got a determined look before placing Alhaitham's hand he held hostage above his heart so the other could feel his heart racing. "Please answer my question. Did leaving make you hate me?" He pleaded refusing to feel sorry for himself as he was the one that did this and hurt his best friend. "I messed up and hurt you. If you do please tell me if I can make it up to you. Even if you don't return my feelings I don't want to lose you."
Alhaitham looked at him with wide eyes. He felt the racing heart beat his movements and speech were too clear for him to be drunk. "I do hate you for leaving me because I fell in love with you so many years ago. You make me think irrationally at times. However I can forgive you is you never do that to me again." He said before placing his free hand on the other's face. He gently wiped the tears away.
The amurta scholar tried pushing his hand away. "No I was the one who messed up and hurt you don't comfort me." He whined avoiding eye contact once again. "Then agree to be mine and never leave my side again and we can move past this. I need verbal confirmation." Alhaitham said pressing his forehead against the other's.
"I will always be yours. I'm sorry for everything this past year. I had got you something as well when I was in Mondstadt." (Name) stated. He opened his bag and brought out a neatly wrapped box. And a bottle of dandelion wine. Alhaitham took the items from his hands. He placed them on the table then leaned close kissing the other. "Stay the night." He said pulling away.
"It's so incredibly hard to say no to you." (Name) said pulling the scrib into a hug. The rest of the night went by as a blur. Alhaitham woke up the next day thinking it was a dream but felt something warm in his arms. He smiled faintly seeing his beloved (Name) asleep in his arms. He pulled them closer to his arms. There will be consequences if he tried another stunt he pulled a year ago.
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wolfstrong · 1 year
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The reason why Riley was so floppish was because he didn’t mesh with the group and I couldn’t even imagine his interactions with the scoobs other then like. Oh yeah that’s Buffy’s boyfriend. TARA on the other hand is so so real to me that even if they don’t show it because she’s not like constantly in the show I can so perfectly imagine how she gets alone with everyone and how she fits into the group dynamic.
They in “I was made for you” they had a scene of Tara and Anya walking and just talking about random computer stuff together and it made me so happy because I already felt like Tara and Anya would get along despite the fact that Willow doesn’t like Anya. I think that Tara would like the fact that Anya is very straightforward as I imagine Tara wouldn’t be one for very complicated social queues or having to act fake. Anya just tells it like it is and is also deeply strange, something I think Tara appreciates in a person.
I think that Tara generally gets along with everyone in the gang but Xanders the person she struggles with the most. I think they both really really want to get along with each other because they both know how much the other means to Willow, but this pressure to get along creates a tension that neither of them can preform properly under. Tara is the type to be more quiet when she feels awkward Xander definitely feels awkward when it’s quiet and has to babble nervously to fill the silence. This leads to them having many fumbled uncomfortably interactions despite them both meaning the best. I think they would eventually discover that they share some weird niche common interest and they could use that as a jumping point to slowly bond and relate to each other. I could see them eventually having like some real ass late night back porch talk about both growing up in abusive households where Xander cries but that’s like way down the line.
And her just like really genuinely loving Dawn and even if it’s quietly and from far away trying her best to look out for her and steer her in the right direction. I think Tara sees that Dawn often feels outcasted and different from everyone else and she’s able to really empathize as she felt the same way at that age. And of course Giles who she respects a lot and sees as the steadfast parental figure she never got. And Buffy, who before her moms death may have been a little hard to relate to and very intimidating. But after I think they have a level of trust and understand between them that runs deep. Tara will always be there when Buffy needs to talk about things that no one else gets, and vise versa.
Anyway did you know that I’m obsessed with Tara and I love her
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