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#i hope the people who love to console themselves by saying he never cared about her are feeling terrible
tobe-sogolden · 9 months
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People are talking about Will's love life again on Reddit. OP is frustrated because of Will's love life (he thinks Byler is unlikely to happen and is frustrated it's too late to write a decent romance subplot with a new character), and redditors are trying to convince them that acceptance of his family and friends is all Will needs, and that it's ok for him to be single 😬
https://www.reddit.com/r/StrangerThings/comments/12yf9d5/i_cant_help_but_feel_bad_that_will_will_never_get/
It’s honestly so sad and frustrating how this is all they can envision for Will. They say stuff like, “Will’s arc is NOT about Mike liking him back (which is impossible cause Mike is straight), it’s about his friends saying they don’t hate him because he’s gay, and it’s okay to be different.”
“The entire point of Mike’s arc is that he’s straight. And even if Mike doesn’t take Will’s confession well at first- because there’s no guarantee he will-he will come around eventually, and that’s okay and even beautiful cause it’s so REALISTIC. I just love how the writers realistically portray the queer experience in the 80s.”
Let’s be real: none of these people who do the Renegade for “realism” even care about “the queer experience” in the first place. Most of them would prefer if Will wasn’t gay, and many of them complained about the show “ruining a good friendship.” Many of them don’t like Will at all, and many would be fine with Will dying. “Realism” is a cover because as long as Will doesn’t get a happy ending with the boy he loves, they can justify themselves still enjoying the show.
You even saw Melvins on Twitter back when the weird airport hug was being discussed say that it’s just “obvious” why the Duffers didn’t have Mike hug Will: because they’re saving it for the brotherly hug after Will’s inevitable rejection.
Never mind how awkward and weird and unnatural it would be for the Duffers to insert a rejection arc into Mike and Will’s bond in Season 5 after Season 4 ends with them being closer than ever and Mike using words like “we” and “team” to describe him and Will. That’s why many Melvins are convinced that Will already let go of Mike in the van and believe/are hoping the show won’t even bring up Will’s feelings in Season 5. Cause they know it wouldn’t make sense.
“Acceptance of his family and friends is all Will needs, and that it’s ok for him to be single.” But the second we suggest that El can find happiness in her found family, and it’s ok for her to be single, they start seeing red. I’ve seen multiple people say, “El has suffered so much and deserves happiness with Mike MORE than anyone,” which is hypocritical (because Will has suffered too, but many of them don’t care about Will), foolish (turning Mike’s heart into some kind of consolation prize for suffering), and an awful message all around (implying that girls need boyfriends who hero worship them to be happy).
Will ALREADY knows he is loved by his friends and family. He has a loving mom, a strong relationship with his adopted sister, close bonds with the Party, and a best friend in Mike (which is all he’s convinced he will ever be). Mike rejecting Will would not surprise Will in the slightest. Will believes Mike is madly in love with El, and he’s the one who worked to mend their relationship. So it’s not like he would randomly confess. The only way this will come up again- and it WILL- is for Mike to address the fruity elephant in the room.
They really think the boy the show made the explicit decision to emphasize saying, “I’m not gonna fall in love” (not because of any personal dating decision or individual preference, but because he’s convinced love CAN’T be for people like him) is gonna be proven correct???
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ecoamerica · 23 days
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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
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daughter-of-sapph0 · 1 year
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1) Detroit become human was about how white robots have it just as bad as African American slaves. cyberpunk 2077 alongside its glitches had racist elements such as orientalism, demonizing black men in the main story, and a horrible implantation of black features in the character customization. the Stanley parable had an in game video of a white man lighting a black child on fire. all games in the grand theft auto series showcase racist stereotypes of black criminals. all south park games have multiple racist "jokes" that are just as offensive and stupid as the show. minecraft on consoles had skin packs, one of which featuring the main character Steve wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, and being one of only two skins where Steve is depicted as Black.
Black people have been telling you about games that are racist for years. but you simply refuse to listen or care.
2) BLM is not an organization that all Black people are a part of. BLM stand for Black Lives Matter, and is a movement, not an organization, that is against police brutality. of course you don't understand the difference between a movement and an organization because you think all people you disagree must all be friends and all agree with each other and are secretly plotting to ruin your life. there is that Black Lives Matter Global Organization Fund, which IS an organization. that is a collective of far-left anticapitalists activists who are part of the Black Lives Matter movement. but not everyone who is part of the movement is part of the BLMGOF. when you say "BLM has never done this", who are you referring to? all Black people ever?
3)
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4) "sex class" holy fuck kill yourself
5) "wait till tras find out..." firstly, stop with the tra shit. say tranny with your whole chest. because that's what you mean. you want to call us a slur, but you don't want to face the consequences of calling people slurs. so you make up weird words and acronyms, which are just tranny spelt different ways. it's the same energy as calling someone a fag and then saying "what? all I did was call you a bundle of sticks! there's nothing offensive about sticks, is there?". it's middle school level bigotry. and it's pathetic and makes you look insane.
6) you're trying to make the argument that trans people don't know that markus pearson sucks. but minecraft is the most popular game in the world. every already knows that markus pearson is a terrible person. he's a stupid racist sexist antisemitic transphobic cunt and I hope he fucking kills himself. but a) he hasn't had anything to do with the game in years, and b) he isn't actively funding for the death of trans people.
I have my own criticisms of minecraft. mainly the antisemitism with the villagers. because, surprise, they were created by an antisemite. but despite trying to distance themselves from pearson, Microsoft has done absolutely nothing to change this gross part of the game. I have been vocal about this for years, yet people like you don't give a shit.
also, minecraft is incredibly popular with autistic people, and people who are autistic and people who are trans overlap a lot.
also also, Lena Raine, famous for her work on soundtracks for Celeste and Deltarune, also composed some of the best songs ever for minecraft. why is the important? let me direct you to the best and shortest "personal life" section on wikipedia I've ever seen
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actual trans people work on minecraft. minecraft and mojang are filled with queer devs who actively support and are part of the queer community.
so when the current dev team of a game has trans people actively working on it, doesn't invite the creator to the 10th anniversary celebration, does literally everything they can to get rid of all mentions or ties to the creator, and have gone on record saying they want nothing to do with pearson and have cut ties with him completely, I think that means that the game is not transphobic like you want it to be. it's not that no one cares because "he's a man". it's that minecraft isnt a franchise that uses its profits to fund genocide.
also, as I was saying before, minecraft isn't perfect. it still has antisemitism, it still has a racist past, and it still has a shitty ex dev. and while they can't change the past, they can change the future by removing the antisemitic tropes that surround the villagers. yet they don't, and I am very vocally upset and have expressed my views on this subject many times.
7) but you know a game with far worse antisemitism? hogwarts legacy. far more antisemitism than any transphobia. this game is literally the blood libel myth of Jews stealing the blood of white children. the goblins, which have large noses and control the banks and have a shofar and kidnap white wizard children and are secretly working with the wizard nazis are quite literally based off the antisemitic lies and conspiracy theories of the new world order, blood libel, greedy Jew, and holocaust denial. even on their own, these tropes would be absolutely disgusting and repulsive to any person with half a brain. but even though this game has more antisemitic lies and myths than a 4chan /pol/ thread, people like you don't care at all. because "it's hairy potty! and I love hairy potty! the creator hates trans people and that's based ... uh... I mean... I have nostalgia for the series! (and I don't give a shit at all about Jews)"
interestingly though, when this was pointed out to you in the replies, you said "no that's not true" and "so what? that's no reason to get mad" and "actually YOU'RE antisemitic for thinking that goblins are supposed to be Jews". and personally I think that anyone who says that last one deserves a bullet though their skull.
8) also, I find it very interesting that you're complaining and crying and pissing their pants when trans people boycott one (1) game, yet they refuse to listen to anyone else, especially Black people or Jews, when they suggest boycotts, and also refuse to boycott any games with extreme sexism and misogyny in them, despite pretending to care about women.
I have never seen a radfem say anything negative about fat princess, the guy game, dead island, overwatch, persona 5, grand theft auto, and hell, even hogwarts legacy.
if you didn't know, this game was developed by people who were part of gamergate. and if you don't know what gamergate was, it was a massive controversy online where women were saying how sexism in online games is bad, and a bunch of men said "no, and you're wrong! my opinion is worth more than your lived experience". and then some of those men went on to make what you think is the best game of all time, that contains extreme amounts of racism and antisemitism, and sales of which are actively funding a genocide against trans people. but I'm assuming that none of those things are negatives to people like you.
tldr: op need to kill themselves
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kim-poce · 1 year
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New Witch (Curse Words)
This is a Curse Words fanfic. Original story by @derinthescarletpescatarian.
Next
CW: abandonment of a child, mention of parent death, witches.
=-=
It was noon on a hot sunny day, everyone was either helping in the kitchen or doing something that did not require going out under the sun.
Pietro was in the middle of a knitting project he had been putting off for some time now. While he loves this hobby, truth be told, no sane (or insane) person in that city would put a sweater on, still, he was bored of making capes for random objects, so whatever.
There was a weak, fast knock on the door. It could only mean two things, either a client or a new witch. Pietro hoped it was the first, sighed, got up and couldn't help but close his eyes at the strong light after opening the door.
“Hello,” he said, blinking several times and wiping some tears away.
“A-ah, hello…” the woman at the front door said, her shoulders shrinking into themselves while she awkwardly held the wrist of a small girl of whom Pietro tried to guess the age out of habit. Seven years old. She was quietly looking down, not seeming to mind the uncomfortable way the woman was holding her. Pietro stared at the girl’s hand with curiosity, since he had never seen someone wearing gloves for no reason.
A new witch then. “Would you like to enter and have some tea?”
She searched his every exposed skin, before looking behind his shoulders and looking for someone else, “Are there… I mean…”
“Yes. There are witches inside” he said, wondering what would be her reaction upon actually seeing his witch mark and whether this would make her give up. “May I help you with anything?”
“Is it true?” the woman asked in a desperate voice, staring at him with reddened eyes, there were deep dark circles under her eyes.
“What is tru-”
“I swear I'm not the kind of woman would….” she glanced at the girl, “make this kind of… decision. But I have a life too! It was already so hard to lose my sister. I loved her, even after everything, I would even take care of her daughter as if she was mine but…”
“But she got a curse,” Pietro completed, he knew where the talking was going, and truthfully he wasn't in the mood for it. It was hot. He wanted to go back in and drink a glass of water.
“I wouldn't be like this if that was the case, I'm not bad! I wouldn't come here if she had just got cu- this thing into her. I… I don't want to hate a child, much less my sister's daughter but she… that thing in her killed my sister. I'm sure of it, I can't just… I have to let her go. So I implore you… is it true?”
Pietro shouldn't have opened the door. He should've just called Milena and let her deal with emotional people as always, but here we were so he let out a consoling smile, “We will take good care of her, yes. There is no need to worry, she will be safe.”
The woman nodded. Suddenly getting lost in thought, she told herself once again this was for the better, that this was what her sister would want, that she has no choice. She has no choice at all.
Still, what should she do now? Should she talk to the girl before leaving? Should she say something to the man in front of her about her niece? Like things she likes or something? Would she be able to leave her behind after talking about her like this? Should she say goodbye? Should she tell her that she doesn't hate her, but she has no choice. Does she have a choice?
The girl did not complain as the woman unconsciously gripped her wrist harder, nor did she reach out to her when, after taking a deep breath, the woman opened her hand, turned around, and walked away without looking back.
The witch just turned around too and watched.
“She won't be back,” Pietro said to the girl after a minute or so. He really isn't the one who knows the way of words to new witches. “You'll live with us from now on.”
The girl didn't move or say anything, just kept watching her aunt walk away. The trail down the hill was clear so it would take about twenty minutes before the woman completely vanished from sight.
There was no need to stop the new witch from watching, so Pietro walked back in, fetched his knitting tools, and sat down at the front door, not letting on his face how much he hated the sun on his face. He didn't know his way with words, so the least he could do was to stay by her side.
The minutes went by, the woman had long vanished, Milena had glanced at the two on the door once and made sure not to let anyone disturb, the sunlight had fortunately been covered for a passing cloud and Pietro could almost focus on the knitting. Almost.
Is she still waiting for her? He wondered. The girl seemed to understand what was happening, but maybe it was just Pietro's wishful thinking. She was young, there was a limit of how much she can get without someone telling her.
“What does your curse do?” Pietro wondered out loud, like an insensible idiot. “Sorry you don’t-”
The girl raised her gloved hand and slightly touched his shoulder, making him flinch away and dropping the needles. The girl’s eyes widened at his reaction, she took a step back and held her hands close to her chest, trying to look small and harmless.
“No, no. I’m not hurt or scared, don't need to worry,” Pietro tried, carefully not touching the freezing cold spot on his shoulder. “I just wasn’t expecting the cold, that’s all. I’m just surprised.”
The girl looked up warily, making Pietro self conscious about his facial expressions.
“I’m Pietro,” he tried, stretching out his hand for a handshake, which he assumed was the better way to show her he wasn’t afraid of her touch, even when he partially is.
After looking at him for a long while she ever so slowly touched his hand, a small freezing touch at first and in the lack of reaction from the older witch she gave him a freezing handshake. As soon as he was out of her sight he would heat some water for a bath.
“What’s you name?” he asked, grateful the girl had let go of his hand.
“Ember,” she said quietly, her voice was hoarse as if she had a cold.
“Nice to meet you, Ember. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Ember glanced down the hill once again, closing her hands into fists for a few seconds before looking back up and nodding. “Thank you.”
=-=
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mmm idk,my problems seem to be more from the fact that i'm a anxious ugly girl. I've been following you for a while. I really like what you say because somehow I read and I feel a little less lonely. Today I was scrolling through your blog reading because I was so bored in class and I don't have real friends or shit like that (everyone ignores me every time I fucking open my mouth) Your post reminded me of my relationship with my parents I know it's not the same case but my mother doesn't seem to care much about what happens to me either and she doesn't even see me, i don't blame her she is really depressed. On the other side my father, is a misogynist who has always treated me like a piece of shit just for not meeting his standards of what he believes a woman should be, he believed that by having a daughter he would have a kind of model to show off to his friends or I don't know what the fuck he thinks, so I'm just his ugly daughter that he's ashamed of. He doesn't care about my well-being and has never really played the role of a father, he can't play any role as a father because he doesn't love me so he doesn't make an effort to interact with me or support me in something like school or shit that normal parents do.
And I think we have a similar musical taste lol (i love your username btw one of the reasons why your blog caught my attention) #oversharing
(sorry if there is a serious misspelling here i am not a native speaker)
you were very clear and well spoken, no need to apologize.
it is an odd phenomenon that I'm sure has existed but I think is particular to our times, parents who are completely self involved. I think a lot of it has to do with their parents being boomers and the environment they were raised in, "live for yourself" etc, from the Vietnam protests to today there has been no sense of community or some thing that is larger than the individual that a person has no choice but to submit to. of course this attitude has been around for centuries! but this has been the most distilled form, at least in previous generations there were remnants (you MUST go to church, you MUST go to war). a system built around choice is a system that will always lead to unhappiness.
anyways, my point is that the family disintegrates because individuals can only see themselves as individuals, not even archetypes. a woman cannot be a mother and a man cannot be a father because they see themselves as individuals making some stupid free decision and thinking that they can go about things in their own way and that they are doing something new and daring which only leads to psychologically damaged children. society needs significantly less freedom, freedom and individuality only lead to unhappiness because of course a person cannot solve the problems of the universe on his/her own. I would argue that parents as they should be in many ways do not exist anymore, it is more than anything a begrudging arrangement that they feel stifled by. like marriage, if divorce is a valid option then marriage no longer exists. but I am getting off topic.
my parents more than anything are both just unintelligent people in addition to the problems of their generation, and I think obviously this is also the case for many people. I am sorry to hear of your troubles but if it's any consolation my point is that this is not necessarily a strange or unheard of situation and is no way due to a personal failing on your part. I hope things improve for you. this has been much rambling and little empathy but I am happy to know that my obsessive fucking compulsion to TRY and explain every aspect of my life has had some positive effect on someone.
<3
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astaroth1357 · 3 years
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How Often They Worry about MC…
For those who don’t know, I have a little dog named Charlie and she is a large portion of my world. There's no need to be alarmed, my dog is fine, but there are days where I hold her and all I can think about is how much I worry about her health down the line… I suppose we often do that for the people we love, particularly the ones who may not last as long as we will. Take that as inspiration if you'd like.
Lucifer 
Near constantly. 
If you tracked his blood pressure on a grid, you'd see it start to continuously rise about when he decided they were worth having in his life.
Lucifer is the eldest sibling to a whole crew of brothers so he's no stranger to worry. He worried about his brothers when they were young, he worried about them after the Fall, and he still worries about them now (even if he's less open about it).
But a part of him knows that his brothers can handle their own, at least to varying degrees. The MC, though? He's far less sure…
They've proven rather resilient, but also headstrong and reckless. Neither of which are good things to be in a place this dangerous...
If Lucifer isn't careful, he can catch himself staring at a wall or window just wondering where they are and if they're doing alright… If he called them every time he had a passing worry, their inbox would be full by the end each week.
He holds himself back because he doesn't have the time to constantly protect them, but that doesn't stop him from sending a text once or twice a day. They better respond or he'll start (secretly) panicking.
Mammon
He forgets their mortality from time to time, but every time he remembers it hits like a ton of bricks…
Mammon is a pretty "in-the-moment" person. He doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on the future, but whenever he does the thought of losing MC always comes back to him again and again.
Like. It's gotta happen eventually, right? They're human, humans die, hell they don't even live that long to start with!
The MC can always tell when Mammon's getting worried because he'll get uncharacteristically quiet and pace around or hover by them…
Every little injury or strenuous task will suddenly seem like too much to him as well. 
If they need to carry some boxes, he'll carry them all.
If they have to jog to class, he's carrying them. 
If they so much as get a papercut, he'll have a heart attack.
It's not very hard to get Mammon out of these funks - he really does want them to reassure him that they're okay - but he's never going to get fully over it…
Not until he can steal whatever top secret immortality formula Solomon must have used anyway… He'll get it off that bastard eventually.
Leviathan
Thinks about it so often he has to actively try not to just to get any peace…
He dodges his fears for MC like a protagonist dodges lasting consequences. Every time he feels one creeping up, he's always got a distraction waiting…
"Hey where's MC at? I hope they didn't fall into the riv-OH HEY CHECK OUT THIS NEW GAME!!"
"What are they doing over there…? That looks hard, what if they bre-WAIT DIDN'T MY FAVORITE VOICE ACTOR JUST RELEASE A NEW PODCAST???"
"What if the MC dies tomorrow and they leave me all alo-DEVIL FIGHT 200! YOU CAN'T BEAT DEVIL FIGHT 200, LET’S BREAK MY HIGH SCORE!!"
Cut him some slack, his psyche cannot handle the idea of losing them on top of everything else he grapples with every day.
If, on the rare occasion, he does let himself fall down that rabbit hole he becomes extra clingy and practically begs MC not to leave his room… like ever. He'd bubble wrap them if he could.
Anytime they get really hurt or really sick he refuses to leave their side even if it means he has to awkwardly sit on the floor. He just needs to be able to glance at them every so often to be sure they're alive… Still breathing?? Phew…
Satan
He worries, preps, rationalizes, then worries again…
For Satan, knowledge is power and every scrap of information he can learn about MC is more power he can use to keep them safe and healthy.
Yes, he will want their medical history. Yes, he's going to need a list of prescriptions. Family members too. And no, you do not get a choice.
He'll read up on as many things as he can - pawn medical journals off of witches and get magical alternatives from Solomon.
The cycle usually goes: 
1. He's lying awake at night because he just heard about some terrible bacteria that makes human's skin peel off or something.
2. He does all the research he can on this bacteria, its treatment options, best prevention methods, etc.
3. Gets right about to break out the rubber booties for MC to wear around, then realizes they have a very slim chance of catching said bacteria since it's only native to incredibly remote parts of Indonesia.
4. Feels instant relief that MC will probably not catch flesh-eating bacteria and can finally sleep again…
5. Hears of some other human medical horror from Solomon and starts to worry…
It's a vicious cycle indeed… But at least he's getting a lot of medical training. Soon enough he'll be the Devildom's version of a human vet (which I guess is just a doctor, come to think of it. 🤔)
Asmodeus 
Lives so "here-and-now" that he doesn't remember often, but when he does it's always heartbreaking…
Asmo usually tries to worry about things as little as possible. It’s bad for the skin, you know? But when the MC is involved, all of that goes out the window.
Like how a delicate blossom eventually wilts in the snow, the MC is bound to leave them in time… Usually there's supposed to be something beautiful in that kind of tragedy, but perhaps he's just too close to them to find any romance in it.
The thought of their death gives him breakouts and anytime they get hurt or sick he's the first brother to offer them comfort. Every time.
Because he doesn't feel like he's as physically strong as he brothers, he tries to make up for it by minding their health in other ways. Anything to keep his MC strong and beautiful as always!
If Asmo is in a worrying mood, then he may also compensate by trying to take the MC out to a party or some fun event. Why sit around worrying by himself when he could be making memories with them now, right?
Beelzebub
It comes in waves, mostly at night.
When your thoughts throughout the day are mostly, "I wish I wasn't so hungry," it doesn't afford you a lot of time to think about much else.
In a way, it's a good thing since he experiences a lot less stress. But those worries are still there and they mostly plague his dreams…
Beel doesn’t feel hungry when he's sleeping, so a lot of his fears will make themselves known overnight. An injured or dying MC is often in his rotation of nightmares though, of course, he'd rather it not be…
After having one of these dreams, his first instinct is to always make sure the MC is okay. If they're with him, he'll hug them and check their heartbeat. If they're somewhere else, he'll go to them or shoot a text.
He has woken up without realizing his nightmare was all a dream though, and usually it's up to Belphie or MC themselves to console him while he cries… It's so heartbreaking, sweet boy just puts a lot of pressure on himself to be sure they're safe…
When he worries, it's like they're the most beautiful and expensive China set in a room full of bulls and hammers. If he could tape them to his side, he probably would. He gets scared for them that much…
Belphegor 
More scared about it than anyone else in the House.
Despite his calm demeanor, Belphie is truly afraid of losing his loved ones beneath the surface… He's already lost one of his most dear siblings before, going through that again may just break him.
Unfortunately, he's also felt just how fragile the MC is firsthand... He's not even the strongest of his brothers, yet he was able to snuff them out so easily… Who's to say someone else won't try?
Like Beel, MC's death is a recurring nightmare for him but he can usually shake off his dreams fairly well, if not change them mid-sleep. More scary is when something is actually wrong with them or they're not feeling well.
Belphie always sets his inner laziness aside for the MC when he can. If they get sick, he'll usually be right along with his family to take care of them - even if he has to skip school to do so (not that he cares about class anyway).
When he's worrying about them, he tries to play it off at first, but soon enough they'll notice him acting overly concerned and losing sleep… Best to calm him down before he starts getting cranky.
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So I'm in the mood for some angst!
Could you write about poly! Lost boys x reader who after an argument with them (why idk) is very quiet, because they told reader that their voice is annoying and complaining how annoying their voice is.
What would they do?
I was thinking a lil sexy time? (about how much they love their voice lol)
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Author’s Note: I went a little heavy on the angst lol, and the smut is only hinted at. I can’t really think of how to write a whole sex scene based on loving someone’s voice, but I made up for it in the angst department. Happy ending and all, hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Unless you ask specifically for a gender neutral or male reader, reader will always be AFAB
My Silence Is Your Punishment
You weren’t sure how you got here. Marko had said something to Paul who started pouting which caused David to start yelling, which started as reprimanding Marko until Paul made some snarky remark and now David was yelling at Paul too. You tried to break up the fight but David never watched his words when he was angry and ended up hurting your feelings and now you’re in the middle of a screaming match with him and Marko.
Dwayne is staying out of it, never one for yelling, and Paul is covering his ears and glaring daggers at all of you.
For reasons no one knew, he decided to direct his angry outburst at you, abruptly uncovering his ears and standing up to yell “GOD, Y/N, WOULD YOU SHUT UP?”
Everyone froze, but Paul continued. “Why do you have to involve yourself in every argument!? Your voice is too goddamn annoying for that!”
Your jaw dropped.
Dwayne kicked off the wall he’d been leaning against with a worried expression and went to console you, but you were already leaving.
You didn’t even open your mouth to say “fuck you.”
If there was one thing you were deviously good at, it was punishment. Years spent in an abusive relationship in your early teens was traumatic, but it did teach you how to manipulate the world around you. It especially taught you how to punish people emotionally in relationships.
It was something you tried to avoid. You didn’t want to be like your ex. But sometimes, it comes in handy.
You knew that leaving the cave by yourself, still being human and all, would set the boys on edge. And that was only the beginning. You made your way to the boardwalk, knowing they’d be following after you soon. You found a non-threatening guy your age, clearly a tourist, and began chatting him up.
This is how they’d find you.
When they spotted you with the tourist, they were not happy, but they had a situation they needed to atone for first and foremost, so they didn’t allow themselves to get mad. You were laughing and having a jovial conversation with the boy, but as soon as they approached, your smile fell, and your lips snapped shut.
“Excuse us,” David said to the tourist, grabbing your elbow and leading you away. “Sweetheart, you need to talk to us, not a stranger. We need to resolve this.”
You stared impassively at him, not a single response on your tongue.
“Y/N,” Paul said, trying to get your attention. You wouldn’t even look at him.
“Let’s take this back to the cave,” Dwayne said softly. Since he hadn’t done anything, you refused to speak, but you did follow him back to his bike and climb on.
The ride home was solemn.
When you all arrived back at the sunken hotel, they continued to try and talk to you, but you didn’t offer them a word. You would look them in the eyes as they spoke so they knew you were hearing them, and then you’d look away with nothing to say.
Eventually you got bored, and ignored them all outright. It was only midnight, but you pushed past all of them to get to your nest, a nook in the back of the cave that was filled with pillows, an abundance of blankets, and articles of The Boys’ clothing for scent marking.
You crawled into the middle of all of it, and deliberately found every article of clothing stashed in the nook, and made quick work of emptying them from your nest. Paul’s clothes you took special care to throw directly at him. The Boys watched on, clearly wounded by the act.
Good.
When you were satisfied, you swaddled yourself in your favorite blankets and laid down with your back to them.
Marko tried to lay down with you a couple of times, but every time he did you would stand up and walk away until he got up, then return to your nest. After a couple repeats of this, he got the message and stopped trying to get near you. You fell asleep.
You woke up about an hour after The Boys had been forced to retreat into the back room to avoid the rising sun. You cried yourself back to sleep.
The next time you woke up, you had two hours before The Boys would be able to come out of the cavern. That worked out well. They’d panic when they woke up to find you gone, and that served them right.
You put on a bathing suit before heading out, planning a swim at dusk to make yourself feel better. You’d always been in tune with the ocean.
So you killed some time on the boardwalk, people watching, until the beach emptied some more, then you went down to the shoreline. The water was nice, and the waves were decently calm today. You were glad you’d decided to do this, and incredibly grateful there were no Surf Nazis out. When it started really getting dark, you came out of the water and grabbed your towel to dry off.
As you did, you heard a feminine voice calling your name.
It was Star, and you were both relieved and suspicious, but remained in place so she could catch up to you.
“Hey,” she offered a crooked smile. “I heard what happened.” You groaned. “Did they send you to find me?” “No, when you weren’t there I went into the back cavern to ask if something had happened, but I didn’t mention you were gone. They probably figured I was asking ‘cause of all the clothes on the floor.”
She looked up at the sky.
“They’re definitely realizing you’re gone by now.”
“Thanks,” you sighed. “For not telling them.”
“Of course,” Star smirked. “I know your game. And from what I heard, they deserve it. I thought you’d be going for a swim about now, and I also thought you’d like some company on the boardwalk being in a bikini and all.”
“I am actually very relieved to see you,” you admit with a chuckle. “I was debating my options before you showed up. Did Laddie have fun?”
Star had gone to visit the Widow Johnson up in the hills the night before, and taken Laddie with her. She’d met Johnson in the metaphysical shop and you were pretty sure she was a witch.
“Yes, at first, but he got bored after a little while.”
The two of you began walking to the boards while Star recounted her evening.
You managed to avoid The Boys for three hours with Star, but it was inevitable they’d find you eventually.
“Y/N! Y/N! Jesus Christ!” Out of nowhere you found yourself off the ground and trapped in Paul’s arms. “We- we couldn’t fucking find you when we woke up, we were so worried—“
“What the fuck are you doing wandering around the boardwalk in your bikini?” David snapped. “Don’t you know the kind of creeps that are out here?” There was an edge of panic to his angry tone.
“I was with her,” Star rolled her eyes. “Yeah and why the hell didn’t you tell us she was missing when you came home?” Star shrugged.
You frowned, squirming in Paul’s grasp. You wanted to be repulsed by his touch, but the ocean had worked a little too well, and drained a good deal of your anger.
“Don’t get mad at her,” you snapped.
Shit.
You hadn’t meant to use your voice just yet.
But you weren’t about to let Star take any heat for this.
“Is Dwayne with Laddie?” She asked.
David gave a curt nod.
“Oh I’m so happy to hear your voice!” Paul cried, and you had to refrain from sarcastically quipping back. You were loosening his grip with your movements, but just as you were about to be able to slide out of his arms, you were pressed firmly back into his chest when Marko threw himself into the embrace from behind you.
Now you were trapped, and begrudgingly, you fell limp in their arms with a sigh.
“Can we go back to the cave and talk about this now?” Paul’s voice was so meek, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. Weakly, you nodded.
Marko stepped back and Paul grabbed the backs of your thighs, lifting you up so you could lock your legs around his waist. David draped his trench coat over your shoulders. Paul carried you to their bikes and you rode home on the back of Marko’s after putting David’s coat fully on. Star hitched a ride with David.
Back in the cave, Dwayne jumped up from where he’d been sitting on the ground playing cards with Laddie. You were being carried on Marko’s back, but he let you down so Dwayne could have a turn embracing you.
You could feel him shaking slightly, and kissed his chest in a silent apology.
You sat in his lap for the group discussion.
Once apologies were said, promises made, and proper action to repent was taken, you all relaxed.
“I never thought 24 hours without your voice would feel so long,” Paul said. David took a drag of his cigarette. Dwayne grumbled his agreement.
“Well now that we’re all peachy…” Marko grinned deviously, scooting closer to you and Dwayne to place a hand on your inner thigh.
“We went so long without your beautiful voice… I can think of a few ways for you to use it for us tonight.”
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avenger!reader who suffers from depression and is really hard on herself/themself and blames themself after a mission went wrong and locks themselves out, bucky is worried abt them and comforts them
Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count:3102 (wow I went off the rails a bit huh 😅)
Warnings: self-blame, mentions of death, nightmares, panic attacks, breakdown, lots of tears, this one’s really angsty, flashbacks, some fluff/comfort but so much angst
A/N: I loved this request and had a great time writing it. This one’s a lil more angsty than I usually do and deals with some heavier themes than some of my other ones, so please take care of yourself and heed the warnings. I love you guys so much!
There was nothing you could have done.
You were the first off the quinjet, anxious to get out of the unbearable silence.
You kept your head down as you walked quickly to your room, trying to make as little noise as possible, stumbling to get into your room as fast as possible, locking the door behind you as you let the tears fall.
You looked up at the ceiling, trying to stave off your breakdown as you tried to keep taking even breaths.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” you said in a small voice.
“Yes?” the AI responded.
You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice even. “Turn on soundproofing, please.”
“As you wish. I am picking up on signs of distress, would you like me to call Sergeant Barnes?”
You shook your head violently at the thought of anyone, especially your boyfriend seeing you like this. “No.”
“Are you sure? Would you like me to call -”
“Don’t let anyone in this room.”
“As you wish, Y/n.”
You heard a noise indicating that the room had been soundproofed.
And you lost it.
You brought a hand to your face and sank back against the wall, shoulders shaking with the force of your sobs. You pushed yourself back against the wall, trying to ground yourself. Your mind flashed back to the mission you had just returned from and you let out an agonizing scream.
You’ll never forget the looks on their faces.
“Y/n, come on we have to go!”
“Wait - no I almost have them!”
“Help us - please - no don’t go!”
Blood curdling screams that didn’t belong to you, followed by your own.
A building had collapsed on an innocent family in the aftermath of the fight. You tried to get them out, but you were too late, Steve pulling you away at the last second before you were taken out too.
You were so angry, you had been so close - if you had seen them sooner, if you had just a few more seconds, maybe you could’ve gotten them out.
The last thing that they saw was their only hope being pulled away from them before being suffocated.
You were the last thing they saw, you had promised to get them out.
And you had lied to them.
The last thing they felt was hope that they’d see another day. No - the last thing they felt was betrayal and fear when they realized that one of the world’s greatest heroes couldn’t be their hero too.
The moments that had followed were a blur, your eyes frozen on where their eyes had been, shock coursing through your veins. You had seen someone die before but...not like that. Not when you could’ve maybe saved them.
The shock quickly bubbled into anger as you turned to Steve.
“Why the FUCK would you do that? I could’ve saved them!”
“You would’ve died Y/n!”
“If you hadn’t been distracting me then maybe I would’ve gotten them out in time!”
You had angry tears in your eyes, hitting Steve’s chest and doing exactly nothing to his broad form while he tried to console you.
“Get the fuck away from me! I could’ve saved them, this is YOUR fault.”
The ride back was silent. No one dared to talk to you about what had happened. You felt bad after a while but you couldn’t apologize without completely crumbling. If you opened your mouth you were certain that sobs would come rather than words.
You did feel horrible for what you said, because it wasn’t true. It wasn’t Steve’s fault.
It was yours.
So you waited until you returned to the privacy of your room, screaming bloody murder over the guilt you felt. Replaying what had happened, telling yourself everywhere you had gone wrong, every hesitation that could’ve given you an extra few seconds.
You felt like you’d never stop seeing their eyes, paralyzed by fear.
You were the last thing they saw, and now you would remember their last moment for the rest of yours.
You couldn’t imagine the amount of pain and fear they had felt when they realized they weren’t getting out of the rubble alive. That they would die as a part of a warzone they didn’t intend to be a part of. The feeling of hope draining from their bodies, blood running cold as they realized they had mere seconds left.
“No!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, body curling in on itself as you drew your knees in and wrapped your arms around your torso, sick to your stomach.
This was your fault, and you would never forget it.
---
The rest of the team had sighed as they watched you get off the quinjet, walking a bit too fast to be alright. They shared concerned looks with each other, watching your form disappear into the compound.
You weren’t okay, but after what had happened when Steve tried to approach you, they thought it best to give you some space.
The rest of them entered the compound, going their separate ways as Steve sat to down and ran a hand down his face, trying to get his mind off of what had happened. He was shaken up too, but he couldn’t lose you like that. You would die protecting strangers, and while he thought that was noble, he wondered when there wouldn’t be someone to pull you out in time.
Bucky had come down to check on you, knowing that the team had gotten back from a mission. But before he could knock on the door, F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke. “Sergeant Barnes, Y/n has requested that she not be disturbed.”
Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, both in concern and confusion. Usually when a mission hit you hard, you would talk to him about what had happened. So either you were just tired, or this was worse than it had ever been.
He clenched his jaw and stood there for another few moments before he walked away, heading towards anyone who may be able to tell him what happened on the mission.
He came into the common room, seeing Steve doing a mission report. Well - the mission report was in front of him and he was staring blankly at it.
“Steve?” Bucky said softly, trying not to startle him.
Steve didn’t look up.
“Steve,” Bucky said a little louder.
Steve looked up from the papers, shaking his head slightly. “Hey, Buck. What’s up?”
“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, taking in Steve’s tired appearance and how his mind seemed elsewhere.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Steve said, barely looking at Bucky.
“You know, I’ve taken care of enough black eyes from mister back-alley hero to know when you’re not really fine.” Bucky said with a small smirk.
Steve’s eyes flicked up to Bucky’s as he sighed. “It’s not me you should be worried about,” he muttered.
“What happened?” Bucky asked.
Steve recounted the mission to his friend, Bucky getting increasingly concerned about you. He knew you had a tendency to blame yourself for different things, and he knew what blaming yourself for someone’s death was like, even if you couldn’t control the situation.
Bucky was brainwashed. You were too late. Two different things, but the survivor's guilt was excruciating.
“Is she okay?” Bucky asked nervously.
“She didn’t get hurt, if that’s what you mean,” Steve started, “but she seemed pretty shaken up. You haven’t talked to her?”
“She doesn’t want to be bothered,” Bucky said.
Steve nodded. “Just give her some time,” he said, worriedly.
Bucky nodded, though unconvinced. He bottled up his emotions until the two of you met. Ever since the two of you never kept anything from each other. And he knew that seeing someone die and feeling at fault for it could destroy you. He wasn’t sure if time and space was what you needed.
But it was what you wanted right now. So he wouldn’t get in the way.
----
Back in your room you were curled in a ball on the floor, sobs wracking your body as you lost all sense of time and space and all you knew was it hurt and if you closed your eyes they were right there and you couldn’t do anything about it. You had a hand pressed to your chest as you tried to breathe but eventually gave way to a new surge of agony when your mind went back to how people died and you couldn’t help them.
You tried to calm down but then your mind would remind you that they had a family and they would never see them again and it was your fault.
“Stop, please just stop,” you put your hands over your ears as you tugged slightly on your hair.
They died terrified.
“Please make it stop,” you sobbed.
You were supposed to help them and you failed.
“No, God, please stop…”
They died because of you
----
You had fallen asleep on the floor at some point, when, you weren’t sure, but you woke up to your own screams. You were drenched in a cold sweat, dried tears on your face and chest heaving as you tried to breathe. You brought your hands to your mouth when you realized it was just a dream, sobbing once again.
You didn’t know why these people’s death was hitting you harder than any other death you had seen. This wasn’t the first time you had seen people die - far from it. You’d killed your fair share of agents without a hint at remorse. Because they deserved it.
You’d seen buildings burn down, fall apart, innocent people die - but you’d never felt as responsible as you did this time. Because they were right there. And you were so close.
But they still died and you saw their last moments. And you were theirs.
And it was destroying you.
----
You didn’t leave your room the following day. Or the day after that.
Needless to say, the team was extremely worried about you. Especially Bucky.
He knew what survivor’s guilt could do to a person, and he knew being alone with your thoughts wasn’t helping. He also knew that pushing the topic could do much more harm than good, causing you to retreat further into yourself.
He tried texting you, wanting to let you know that he was there for you, that he was worried about you, and that he loved you.
None of them went though because your phone was off, you having not even looked at it since coming back from the mission.
F.R.I.D.A.Y. was still telling everyone that you did not want to be disturbed, as you had requested. Obviously Tony had the power to override the locks, but again, no one wanted to push you.
When it had been 3 days since you had seen any sunlight, Bucky had had enough. He knew you couldn’t be taking proper care of yourself and he couldn’t let you do that to yourself. He had Tony override your locks and he came to your door, knocking gently.
“Y/n?”
Silence.
He knocked again, a little louder. “Y/n? I’m coming in, alright?”
Silence.
Bucky took a deep breath before he opened your door slowly, peeking his head in. it was the middle of the afternoon and your room was dark, the only light coming from the hallway and from the cracks between the shades, which were drawn shut.
Bucky let himself in and turned on a lamp, shutting the door behind him. He looked at you with worried eyes as he took in your appearance.
You were pressed up against the headboard of your bed, knees drawn to your chest as you stared blankly, your eyes fixated on your bedsheets. Your eyes were red, face blotchy, your hair was a mess and you were still wearing your uniform from the mission.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you said quietly, voice raspy from yelling these past few days.
“Y/n -”
“Get out,” you said quietly, though not angrily.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, y/n.”
“Please,” you said, cursing yourself as your voice cracked. You didn’t want to breakdown in front of Bucky.
“It’s not your fault, y/n.”
You pushed yourself off of the bed, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this right now, Bucky.”
“You’re going to have to talk about it at some point, y/n.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“This kind of thing isn’t going to go away, okay? Time heals but not by itself.” You weren’t listening as you ran a hand over your face, overwhelmed.
“Please, talk to me y/n. You’re going to make yourself sick.”
“I’m fine.”
“This isn’t fine. Not taking care of yourself and living in the dark staring at the wall isn’t fine, y/n. Please, don’t hide from me. It’s just me, y/n.”
You shook your head, eyes glazed over like glass. “I could’ve saved them.” you said simply.
“Y/n, there was nothing -”
“BULLSHIT!” You yelled. “There had to have been something I could do, if I had gotten there earlier or - or if I had moved faster or been stronger then I could’ve gotten them out! It’s my fault they’re dead okay? I couldn’t save them and that’s my fault!”
Bucky walked over to you slowly, asking you to look at him. “It isn’t your fault, y/n. The building collapsed, no one could’ve gotten them out.”
“I could have saved them.” you said again, tears falling down your face. “I could have gotten them out. I was the last thing they saw and you know what I was doing? Being carried away like some coward. They died afraid because a superhero couldn’t save them. And that’s on me.”
Bucky shook his head slightly. “You can’t save everyone, y/n.”
“So what, am I supposed to choose? I’m supposed to choose whether I save people or move on because they aren’t part of the mission? Am I supposed to let them die?” you asked incredulously.
“You can’t risk your own life like that, y/n.”
“What? And pretend like my life is any more important than theirs?!” you exclaimed.
“Y/n -”
“No, why do I have the right to walk away from people because I’m afraid of getting hurt when they’re about to die? What gives me that right?”
“Because I can’t lose you!” Bucky exclaimed. “Yes, those people matter, but goddamn it y/n, you have helped so many people and you will keep saving so many people, but you can’t do that if you’re dead. We help who we can and mourn the rest. It’s not your fault that those people died. There was nothing that you could have done.”
“But if I had a few more seconds -”
“The building still would have fallen and you’d be asking yourself for a few more seconds. There is nothing you or anyone else could’ve done.”
You stayed silent, more tears falling from your eyes. Bucky pulled you in for a hug as your shoulders started to shake with more sobs. “I know it doesn’t make it hurt any less, but it’s not your fault.”
“I can’t stop seeing the look they had on their faces,” you shook your head. “Everytime I try to sleep I see them and I can’t make it go away. And I want to forget but I don’t deserve to and it hurts but I don’t deserve to forget.”
“I know, I know,” Bucky said, knowing all too well what being haunted by the fear on someone’s face was like. “But it’s not your fault. You didn’t let them die, y/n. You would’ve given anything to save them, if Steve hadn’t pulled you away you would’ve died with them. You didn’t run away even though you knew you would die if you stayed. You do know that right?”
“I don’t care.”
“I don’t think you mean that,” Bucky said softly. You felt new tears fall from your eyes as you hid your face into Bucky’s chest.
“You can’t tell me that nothing could be done. You can’t tell me that innocent people were going to die and that’s the way it has to be. That isn’t fair,” you spoke through your tears.
Bucky pulled back to wipe the tears from your face and look you in the eyes. “They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you did everything in your power to save them. It’s not your fault that you got there too late. Those HYDRA agents who destroyed the city - it’s their fault. Not yours.”
“I’m supposed to protect people,” you said as you shrugged and shook your head slightly. “If I can’t do that then what am I?”
“A person who is trying their best. You don’t always have to be everyone’s hero. You don’t have to take responsibility for everyone, that’s too much to expect of anyone. It’s not your responsibility to save everyone because you can’t. But you’ve saved so many people that would’ve died if you weren’t there. You are so important, but you have to stay alive to help more people.”
You took a shaky breath. “Those people were going to die no matter what,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Bucky. Your chest tightened again and you felt sick. “Oh my God,” you said, the acceptance of the fact brought on a new wave of emotions as your knees felt weak.
Bucky pulled you back into his chest again, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “It’s not your fault, y/n.”
“Then why does it hurt so much?” you sobbed against his chest.
“Because you have a good heart.”
You shook your head against his chest. “I don’t want one if it means it’s going to hurt this much.”
“It’s okay, y/n. It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.”
“Please make it stop. I don’t want it to hurt anymore.”
Bucky felt tears sting his own eyes at your pain, holding you tighter against him. He cleared his throat before saying “I can’t make it go away. But I’m here to hold you and do everything I can to make it better. I’m not going anywhere y/n.”
He held you against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
--------
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xsugarysweetsx · 3 years
Note
Hi sweets!! Congrats on your 2k you deserve it! May I request a bokuto x reader. Where the reader and him have been fighting lately and he thinks the reader will break up with him. So he goes into his emo faze longer than any other time and his team mates have to speak with reader about it. And the reader finally has a heart to heart and tells him that she’s pregnant and his mood changes instantly and he calls everyone and tells them lol
A/N: Thank you so much anon!
Warnings; some language; some suggestive themes;
Pleas enjoy~🍰
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“Damn it Kou, just go!“ you scold him locking yourself in the bathroom 
“baby...please don’t be mad. Come on, I still have some time before I have to be at the gym“ Bokuto tried to console you. For some reason you had woken in a normal mood and once you saw him getting ready, you got emotional. You started saying things like he didn’t care for you and tat he always chose volleyball over you. 
None of it was true, he loved you with his entire soul. Just last week you had gotten into a heated argument. Some girls were flirting with him and so you started flirting with Atsumu all while looking at him. It just got him really upset and you both argued for about an hour. The bed was cold because you were so far from him. After about 2 days you made up but then after that your moods had been everywhere.
Just yesterday you were basically annoyed at him because he wanted to cuddle....you loved cuddles! When he gets home later he’s going to sit with you for a serious talk. Communication was always key and he’s keep this relationship afloat!
“*sigh* Y/N I’m not going to force you to talk to me...I’ll see you later alright? I love you baby“ he said as he slowly walked from the door.
He walked down the hall, put on his shoes and left to practice. After the door closes you peek outside to see you were alone. Sighing you come out of the bathroom and walk back to your shared room. You knew being a couple was never easy, everyone had their ups and downs, and eventually things got better. Only for you, things seem to only be going down...
you were pregnant, 2 months to be exact. Worse part was you had no ideas what to do....or how to tell Bokuto...or how he’d react. He had just started the MSBY as a new player along with Hinata, and Atsumu. He was too busy at the moment and it may not be ideal for you both. At the same time you shouldn't have blown up on him like that. Even arguing over small things and it's not fair to him. And all because some of your hormones didn't know how to balance themselves out. Maybe you should tell him... 
When Bokuto enters the gym his teammates could already tell it was one of those days. This was the 4th time. He came in emo mode, with his hair down and his sports lower. He loved his things on the bench and went to warm up. Even though he knew things weren’t going to be good here either.
“Okay you seriously have to talk with her” Atsumu said coming behind him, Hinbata and Sakusa following behind. “What happened this time? Did you go too rough or-”
“No! W-well its not that this time” he said with an embarrassed blush, and yes the last time you both got busy you cried. He always spanked you gently but this time around you cried because it made you feel bad. “We just argued this morning, I think....what if we...break up...“ he said with a pouty face. 
everyone you, especially his teammates and even his coach how much you meant to him. To hear that he was even speculating you might break up even shop them. They always try their best to cheer him up make sure that he knows that your relationship is steady. Either everyone you, especially his teammates and even his coach how much you meant to him. To hear that he was even speculating you might break up even shocked them. 
either they helped him or he would stay depressed, and stay emo mode or his life would fall apart without you. 
“Okay have you forgotten something important? A date? A birthday?“ Atsumu asked 
“Maybe you’re giving her too much attention“ Hinata added
“Maybe she feels sick because you go home sweaty“ Sauksa pointed out
“I don’t know..“ he said in a mopey voice moving himself on to the court and as per usual, he didn’t do as good as he always does. His spikes weren’t as powerful, his spirit wasn’t on the court, and he had a blank stare of o_o.
After a long day of practice it was time for him to head home. On his way home he felt his heart heavy in his chest. Until he passed by a small gift shop. And it hit him in the moment, he wasn't about to let your relationship fall apart. He was going to fix it even if it was just him trying!
He didn’t want to lose you, you're one in a million and he didn't want to let go. He rushed into the store and grabbed only the best. He got a beautiful stuffed teddy bear that held the heart that said ‘I love you’, got a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a box of chocolates, your favorite ones. He paid for everything and made his way home. 
Hope filled his heart as he knocks on the door waiting for you to open. Opening the door he was met with teary eyes instead of angry ones. You  were in One of his hoodies and your cheeks and nose were all red. He comes in and puts the stuff down and brings you into his arms. 
“Oh baby what’s going on huh? I bought you all these gifts and stuff so I can make things better“ he said rubbing your back trying to sooth your crying.
“But..I was the one..,who was..mean to you!“ you sniff holding on to him. He reaches down picks you up and holds you close, he knew how much you loved to be carried by him. “A-and I’ve been so moody and unfair to you all because I couldn’t tell you that I’m pregnant!”
“...hu?“ what did you just say? Pregnant? Baby?? REALLY?? “You’re...pregnant..”
“U-um yeah...I know it’s not the ideal time but I-I just didn’t know how to tell yo-“
“WE NEED TO CALL EVERYONE! Oh we need to buy them stuff- Oh we need a bigger place to love in!!“
“Wait...so you’re not upset?“ you ask still in his hold 
“Why would I be mad when the woman of my dreams is carrying my child? Now I have two people to love in my life“ he said with a beaming smile he brought you down lower so he could peck your lips in a quick but loving kiss “Thank you for this”
“Oh Kou, I don’t deserve you“
<>
11:02 PM
“mm hello?“ Astumu answered in a sleepy state 
“I’M GOING TO BE A DAD!!!“
“ITS 11 AT NIGHT BO! COULDN’T YOU TELL ME TOMORROW?!“
“NO!”
And yes he did this all the way up until 1 am...
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I hope this was okay!❤️
852 notes · View notes
silky-stories · 3 years
Note
Whitty having a nightmare about accidentally killing his s/o and reader comforting him with cuddles? 👀
Sure thing! Sorry for the wait by the way, the ask ended up glitching and disappeared for the longest time ^^;;
Hope this turned out alright!
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Too Dangerous {Whitty/Reader}
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff
Words: 1788
Related Song: sagun - I’ll Keep You Safe (feat. Shiloh) https://youtu.be/7ly7Mhle-4M
Summary: Whitty is scared of losing control and hurting his partner, thankfully his partner is a magician and knows how to make all of his worries disappear.
Disclaimer/s: Death, blood, small description of dead body, a bit of swearing, crying and panic attacks
Notes: (Please read) The start is pretty graphic and may be hard to read for some people, so there’s a double line down further that you can scroll to if you want to skip that part. It gets happy though, don’t worry :)! Also Whitty’s dialogue is in orange, Y/n’s is in blue!
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Numb.
That’s how he always felt after this happened.
After he lost his cool.
After he lost himself.
After his body gave in and combusted into the hot red plumes of rage, engulfing and ripping his body apart in one swift action.
...
After he exploded.
It never took long for his body to piece itself back together, for his pieces to come back and connect and rejoin one another, allowing his mind and consciousness to slowly but surely become clearer.
It was like puzzle pieces, all eventually finding their place as the picture that was his senses to come together, becoming complete once more.
None of this was new to him, he had experienced it many times before.
Only... something was wrong this time.
His vision was still very blurry, but he could make out a few colours, red being the most prominent.
He had never felt especially impatient to regain his senses, but the further along his accelerated recovery was, the more his half healed subconscious screamed that something bad had happened.
It wasn’t until he regained his sense of smell back that he started panicking.
The thick smell of copper and rust that cut through the air quickly invaded his lungs, violating his airways with the essence of metal and death.
Maybe it was the familiarity that scared him the most but...
He knew the smell of blood all too well.
The red he saw was immediately more violent and harsh than it seemed to be before, he stumbled closer to the scene with eyes only partially focused.
His legs still lacked most of the feeling in them, but he managed.
He needed to see what it was, he needed to know who it was. The speed that his blood rushed through his body only sped up his recovery as the picture finally came together.
...
He couldn’t keep his footing as he finally made out what laid before him.
You.
Your bleeding, broken form laid still on the concrete.
He couldn’t move.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t breathe.
...
He was trying to breathe.
Why couldn’t he breathe?
...
Suddenly everything hurt. His head hurt. His eyes hurt. His hands hurt. His body screamed in agony and grief at the loss of one of the few people that cared. One of the few that loved him.
What could he do now though?
You were dead.
He had killed you.
It was his fault.
It was all his fault.
It was all his fault.
It was all his fault.
It was all his fault.
It was-
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Whitty’s eyes snapped open as he hastily sucked in a gasp of air.
He laid there, motionless, greedily filling his lungs with the oxygen that his unconscious mind believed so strongly that he had been deprived of.
He could hear how shaky his breaths were despite the numbness, he was practically hyperventilating as he gave the ceiling a wide-eyed stare.
His form felt frozen in place as images from his dream flashed in front of his open eyes like a movie.
His stillness was disturbed only when you shifted beside him, he flinched, quite violently actually, as your head bumped into his arm.
The groan and words that came from you were his first indication that he shouldn’t have done that.
You were up.
Shit.
“Whitty..? Are you... mmph, are you alright?” You yawned as you propped yourself up in bed beside him, taking a moment to rub the sleep out of your eyes so you could look at him.
When you opened your eyes you saw that he had flinched back from laying down into a sitting up position. He was staring down at you, being the skyscraper that he was. Although there was only one thing that stood out to you, sobering you up from your sleep-drunk state.
“Y... y-yeah sorry I uh... didn’t mean to wake you u-”
“Wait, why are you crying?”
He paused, only now noticing the dark and warm trails that trickled down his face. He was quick to look away to try to wipe them out of existence, the concern on your face had only deepened when he looked back.
“It’s really nothing you... you don’t... don’t have to worry... about me... s-sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
He was a mess and couldn’t piece together a sentence to save his life at the moment but he hoped it would be at least slightly convincing.
He really shouldn’t have thought that.
You very clearly weren’t convinced as you gingerly took hold of his upper arms and guided him to you, leaning back and wrapping his arms around your body as you followed suit with your arms around him.
He wanted to protest, he wanted to further reassure you that he was fine and let you go back to sleep so you didn’t have to deal with his emotional baggage at three in the morning. When he looked up at your patient but distressed expression though, made contact with those eyes that told him that he wouldn’t be judged for whatever it was that had upset him... he just couldn’t hold it in.
It started with tears silently starting to flow again as he pressed his face into your abdomen to hide them, his body starting to tremble in your embrace. It didn’t take very long for him to break into choked sobs, gripping at the t-shirt you had worn to bed like it was his last lifeline.
“Oh Whitty... I’m here, everything’s alright...”
You had no idea what it was that had upset him yet, but the need to console him was intense and immediate. Your hands moved to the positions that had worked before, one on the back of his head and one on his back. Small circular motions were what you started with on his back, gently caressing his head with your other hand as you allowed him the time he needed to vent out his emotions.
This went on for around ten minutes. You didn’t really care, you weren’t watching the clock.
He had stopped crying within the first five, but it took another five minutes to regulate his breathing. Now he was breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, the way you had showed him to before when he needed help to calm down.
You continued to console him through actions, waiting to see if he would initiate the conversation you knew he was ready for now.
He turned his head to the side while still keeping his grip on your torso, he looked exhausted.
“...Y/n?”
You were glad you waited.
“Yes?”
“Do you ever think that I’m...”
You didn’t try to push him to finish his sentence, you knew he just needed a moment to get his words straight.
“...too dangerous to be around?”
You didn’t want to ask, you really didn’t, but you needed the context if you wanted to help him feel better.
“In what way?”
His expression soured as he glared at nothing from across the room.
“There’s a reason why there’s people after me, Y/n...”
Oh.
Oh.
He meant himself being who he was that dangerous.
Well that just wouldn’t do.
“Oh Whitty, why would I think that?”
“Because I fucking am!”
His sudden outburst didn’t frighten you, you had gotten used to them a long time ago.
“I’m unpredictable and can’t control myself sometimes! What will happen if you’re around me when I lose control? Human bodies can’t piece themselves back together Y/n!”
You kept silent as you took in everything he said, committing it all to memory since you knew that these were valid concerns and he needed to lay them all out if he wanted to address them.
“I love you... so damn much... but I’d rather be on the other side of the world if I knew that it would protect you from me!”
He moved to look up at you, the fear in his eyes was heartbreaking.
“I couldn’t... I couldn’t live with myself if I knew that it was me that... that killed you...”
There it was, the heavy statement that served as a queue for you to speak, you could see the anticipation in his eyes. It was peculiar actually, the look he held, it was like he was expecting you to agree with everything he just said and run or something...
You tightened your embrace around him to stamp that thought out of existence.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know?”
“I... huh?”
“I’ve seen the amount of times that you’ve been close to losing it, I know how hard it can be to stay in control.”
He couldn’t hold contact with your eyes, the amount of pure love and care for him was overwhelming after all the fear and desperation that he had just given in return.
“But I’ve also seen how much better you’ve gotten at keeping control.”
That was a surprise to him, but you knew that he would know what you were talking about if you gave some examples.
“Remember the guy in the grocery store? You looked like you wanted to rip his head off, and I didn’t blame you.”
You chuckled at the memory of the guy that decided to try to argue why the two of you shouldn’t be together since you were human and he wasn’t. The man was frustrating and made no sense at all, but Whitty’s fuse didn’t even spark, he didn’t lose himself to anger. He gave the guy the sharpest glare he’s ever done, told him to ind his own damn business, and then lightly took your hand and continued on.
His show of restraint was impressive to say the very least.
“You’ve been getting really good with controlling yourself, and we’re still working on it too. I’m not scared of you and definitely don’t plan on going to the other side of the world.”
Your grin was infectious, he hated and loved how infectious your grin was as he tried to stifle the small smile working it’s way up onto his face.
“I’m so proud of how hard you’ve been trying to keep control of yourself, and I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”
He... he let himself smile after that.
“I don’t deserve you...”
“And you’re clearly overtired since you’re just saying nonsense now.”
He chuckled, it was hoarse and faint but it was a wonderful sound.
“Really though, let’s try and get you back to sleep, okay?”
He pushed himself up further on the bed and carefully intertwined his body with yours, breathing out a sigh as he buried his face in your hair.
“I love you...”
“I love you too.”
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Note
“You will learn to love me.” - With Heisenberg and restorator darling, please? Perhaps when this is her first experience?
Heisenberg/F!Darling: "You'll learn to love me."
TW: Dubcon, loss of virginity, forced marriage
Weddings were usually a joyous affair. Gorgeous dresses, dancing and enjoying your loved ones' company, celebrating the life you wanted to share with your one-and-only... ____'s wedding was not at all like what she or her family might have hoped it would be. For one thing, none of them even knew where she was; she'd spent the last few months trapped by the terrifying man who'd kidnapped her from the Romanian wilderness, a man named Heisenberg who had a gift with metal that bordered on supernatural. As a restorator she would've been fascinated if she wasn't terrified of what he could do with that power of his, especially when his "work" littered his factory with corpses and their scattered body parts. The only other company she had were the wolflike monsters and patchwork creations that followed Heisenberg's orders.
He'd actually bothered to get a wedding dress for her, an admittedly beautiful traditional gown made by the women in the village. The delicate lace along the sleeves and the vibrant embroidered flowers and patterns on the vest looked so out of place in the dusty and rusted-out factory. The villagers were eager to celebrate their Lord's marriage and hadn't stopped sending flowers, pastries, clothing, and handmade talismans for long-life/love/fertility to the outskirts of Heisenberg's property until he'd stationed some of the Lycans to scare off the throngs of annoying worshippers and well-wishers. ____ didn't know if it was better or worse that Heisenberg and her would be the only ones at the wedding; she was terrified of being alone with him, but the way the villagers stared at her and threw themselves to the ground while reverently calling her "Lady Heiseberg" left her uncomfortable to say the least.
____ stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried her best to prepare herself for what was to come. I can still try to escape, but...being his wife just makes it feel more hopeless. She bit the inside of her cheek and glared at the reflection of her dress through her veil. I'll have to be tied to him, even if I'm being forced to say those fucking vows to always stay with him until "death to us part."
She didn't hate him, at least not as much as she did when he'd first taken her. She definitely feared him, but that was just common sense when your captor has an army of corpse-machines, werewolves, and can control electricity and metal with his mind. He'd been more accommodating than he'd expected for a kidnapper. He had been sexually forceful sometimes whenever he groped her or turned her head to kiss her, or lightly rutted against her body when the two of them slept in the same bed. But he'd also given her a room to herself, and insisted on not forcing himself on her completely until he'd made her his wife--another reason she was dreading this day. He'd appreciated her restoration skills and the two of them had actually shared some enjoyable conversations while spending time in his workshop. And he was fiercely protective of her when it came to his equally monstrous siblings and mother. Part of it seemed to be selfishness, not wanting them to go after HIS woman, but he'd consoled her after that wretched little doll of Lady Beneviento's had insisted on "playing" with her by chasing her and tearing at the flesh and skin of her legs. His voice had been soft when he'd promised to not let anyone hurt her, and having him hold her was comforting.
The sound of her bedroom door opening snapped ____ out of her thoughts, and she saw Heisenberg walk into the room. He wasn't wearing his usual trenchcoat, and instead had on an outfit that ____ had never seen him in before: a black vest with similar embroidery to her own outfit, along with a white blouse underneath with fur-trimmed black sleeves. His pants were also black, save for the bit of dust around the hem from walking around the factory. His shoes were made from dark leather and had the same fur trim as his shirtsleeves and the inside of ____'s vest. His signature sunglasses were absent, and his hair was freshly washed and combed.
Heisenberg stared at ____ for a moment, looking her up and down as she stood in her wedding clothes. He had seen what they'd looked like folded up and hanging in her closet, but it was nothing compared to her wearing them. He wasn't used to seeing something so delicate and beautiful, especially in his factory. "Everything's ready," he said. He put one arm around ____'s waist and kept a gentle yet firm grip around her. "Since Miranda gave us her 'blessing' beforehand, we don't need to have her here to watch and attend in all her glory," he quipped. "God knows that bitch would ruin this whole thing just by being here."
____ let Heisenberg lead her to his own room, where a small leather box lay on his bedside table. He used his powers to shut and lock the door behind ____ while he went to grab the box. "I don't have much from my real family," Heisenberg said, carefully opening the lid. The inside was lined with cloth, and inside was a pair of exquisite wedding bands. There were some signs of age in the metal, but the small opalescent jewel nestled in the center of the bridal ring shone as if it had been polished just yesterday. The other ring was less flashy, with the only flair being am etched ridge in the shape of a mountain on the top, inlaid with gold. "This ring's one of the only things I've got from them." He took the groom's ring and slipped it on his own finger. "I want to say it was one of my great uncles who made it? One of them was a jeweler, I think." He shrugged and held his hand out to admire how it looked. "My mom slipped them into my things after Miranda's people had come to take me and my cousins away. I think she knew it'd be the last time she saw all of us together."
____ noticed the strange tone in Heisenberg's voice as he recalled his last memory with his family. She'd never heard him reminisce about them before; with how far-off and melancholy he sounded, she knew why it wasn't something he discussed that often. Just as she was about to try to say something to try and comfort him, he took the bride's ring with one hand and slipped the box into his pocket. He took ____'s hand and squeezed it. "There's no set of vows we have to take," he explained with a half-smile. "One of the perks of being royalty in this shit hole is anything you do is fine, no matter how informally you do it. Not like the villagers are gonna complain about us not following all the traditions, so it saves a lot of time. But..." Heisenberg stared intensely at her as he slipped the ring onto her trembling finger. "One day, you'll learn to love me. I promise that."
____'s hand felt as if it were chained to a sinking weight, pulling her through the ground and crushing her. There was no way out. She'd be "married" to this man who'd ruined her life, isolated from the rest of the world and completely at his mercy. Her heart leaped into her throat and she suddenly felt a rush of dizziness; she stumbled forward and Heisenberg caught her, helping her back upright and holding her in his arms. He brushed her clothed hip with his thumb and then lifted her veil to fully reveal her face. Before ____ knew it, Heisenberg's lips were against hers as he tilted her head back slightly to deepen the kiss.
Heisenberg ran his fingers through her hair as he lowered her onto his bed. ____'s heart raced and panic ran up and down her spine as she lay on the bed. He was taking off his shoes, unbuttoning his vest...reaching down to take off her veil. "K-Karl," she stammered, "I'm not...I've--"
"Never done this before?" He rested one hand on her vest before unbuttoning the golden clasps and sliding it off of her shoulders while she just tried her best to stay still. "I figured as much." Heisenberg smirked and moved one hand underneath the skirt of her dress, creeping up her thighs and stopping just inches from her panties. "You always get that funny little look on your face whenever I touch you for a bit in bed, almost like you're feeling a certain way for the first time. Wouldn't surprise me if you've never even touched yourself."
Goosebumps rose on ____'s legs as Heisenberg ghosted his fingers over her pubic mound, and she looked away as she rubbed her thighs together. Was she really THAT obvious about it? "I know I can't stop you," she said quietly. She bit her lip and tears welled up in her eyes as she tried her hardest to not envision what ____ was about to do to her. Maybe he'd start to tire of her once he finally fucked her and got what he really wanted, and he'd let her go. Would she get blood on the sheets and her dress when he entered her? Would he even care? She could already feel his cock prodding her through his pants; it was a strange, foreign presence that filled her with dread. She knew that some men had penises so large that they could fill someone up all the way to their cervix...just how painful was this going to be once he took all of his clothes off? How harsh would he be now that he didn't feel the need to be so accommodating and kind once he finally claimed her?
____ sniffled and looked up at Heisenberg pitifully. "Please be gentle," she begged. "I don't want...I know it can hurt a lot during your first time, so just..."
Heisenberg cocked his head slightly and rested his fingers on the flesh of her right thigh. "It can hurt if you don't do it right," he replied, sounding a little confused. "What, you think I'm just gonna whip my cock out, go in dry, and finish after a few pumps?"
____ looked up at him, not sure of what to say. "You want to f-fuck me, don't you?" She sounded more confused than accusatory. "That's why you kidnapped me. That's why you've tried to be nice to me and make me trust you." Her shoulders drooped slightly and she clenched her jaw. "I just figured that you wouldn't care that much about...about making me feel good, at least not as much as yourself."
Heisenberg's brows furrowed, but only for a moment before leaning down to kiss her again. ____'s eyes widened at just how gentle this kiss was compared to the one he'd given her after slipping his ring on her finger. "I didn't kidnap you just to be a cocksleeve," he replied with a slightly disappointed frown. He caressed the inside of her thigh and trailed his lips down to her collarbone. "If I wanted that, I would've just raped you the first night you were here." ____ moaned softly as he moved one hand underneath her blouse to massage her breast, and a sudden rush of heat pooled between her legs as he used his other hand to play with an extra-sensitive bundle of nerves through her underwear.
"Kidnapping you doesn't really help my case," he said begrudgingly, "But I do love you, you know. As much as I can love anyone after the shit I've been through." He toyed with her nipple and smiled when he felt her hips rock a bit as he circled around her clit through her panties. "You're not my whore, you're my wife. So tell me what you want, and how you want it. And I'll give it to you."
____'s entire body felt so warm underneath her wedding dress. The places he was touching her felt so tingly, just like how they did whenever he groped her before tonight. Somehow though, this was different. Her fear wasn't as prevalent and the heat bubbling up underneath her skin wasn't from shame. This felt gentler. This felt good. So, so good. He wasn't lying to her about doing whatever SHE wanted; for once, she felt like she had a semblance of control while in bed with him--previously her kidnapper, but now her husband.
____'s voice was breathier than she expected whenever she spoke again. "C-could...could you put your mouth on me?" She rested one shaky hand by her chest on top of his own. "On my breasts, where your hand is right now. I want to f-feel more of...of this." She was struggling to articulate just what she was feeling and what she wanted, but Heisenberg just grinned as if he'd heard her loud and clear. When he lifted her thin white blouse over her head, leaving her in just her skirt, panties, and stockings, he immediately latched onto her right breast while he continued to play with her left nipple. ____ gasped and bucked her hips as he swirled his tongue around the pebble of flesh; his stubble grazed her soft skin, and the texture made her shiver.
Heisenberg finally moved his lips back with a small pop and switched to her other breast while he circled even faster around her clitoris and occasionally stroked the damp spot around her cunt's lips. "Can you feel how wet you are down here?" He chuckled and hooked one finger around the waistband of her panties before pulling them off of her completely. "I definitely won't hurt you if you're dripping like this from just my fingers." He slowly inserted his middle finger inside of her tight walls and eagerly looked at her face as she moaned and moved her hips to take even more of his hand. "Does it hurt, honey?"
"Ah, n-no..." ____ had never felt so hot and lightheaded and FULL. There was a stretch, but it wasn't painful; if anything, she wanted to feel more and more of it. "It feels good, so good..." Heisenberg curled his finger inside of her and laughed again at how his wife cried out in pleasure, practically shoving her pelvis forward to fuck herself on his hand while her pussy clenched around him. "More, more, please! That felt even better, do it again--o-or, or put another finger inside, or your whole hand or your cock or--"
Heisenberg shushed her and slightly increased his pace as he slipped another finger inside of her. "Easy, tiger," he teased with a smile. "I'm not using my cock until you cum at LEAST once on my hand. I haven't even gotten to taste you yet!"
"But...don't you want to feel good t-too?"
Heisenberg felt his hard-on stabbing through his clothes as he rutted his hips against the mattress. He'd get some relief soon, but for now he wanted to show her just what she really meant to him. He could fill her up with his cum and fuck her silly later--right now, he wanted to make sure his perfect little wife enjoyed every single second of her wedding night the way she deserved.
This WAS a celebration of their love, after all.
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nanagoswife · 3 years
Text
Noticing You, Noticing Me
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Chapter Six
Summary: Reader and Obi-Wan begin the writing of the letters. Throughout the passing months, there's significant moments that neither of them forget...
W/C: 3.3k
Warnings: angst, mention of passed away parent
- - -
The first letter from Obi-Wan came in two days after he had left. At the time, you were walking with Anakin as he was in between meetings. He may have been the one who’d prefer managing the troops, but he could more than hold his own when it came to politics.
Anakin gave you a teasing smirk as the messenger handed you the letter. “Is it from your boyfriend?” he said while playfully nudging his shoulder into yours.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t keep yourself from smiling.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my… friend.”
Your brother looked at you disbelievingly. “I don’t think you can call someone just a ‘friend’ when you two nearly kissed. Twice.”
Shock filled you. Your eyes widened as you whipped your head to look at him.
“Oh yes. Did you really think Varlo would keep that a secret? Or Padmé?”
Embarrassment filled you. You weren’t surprised about Padmé. Her and Anakin were a couple. What confused you was Varlo telling Anakin about the night at the ball. He seemed like he didn’t care, so you thought he would keep quiet.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stammered.
It caused Anakin to laugh. “It’s fine, sis. I’m happy for you. Prince Kenobi is a good man. Besides, mom and dad seem to even like him.”
You felt your embarrassment change to happiness. “Really?”
“Really,” he said with a soft smile. “I’ll let you get to reading. I’m due for an appointment with Sir Fisto.”
The two of you said your goodbyes before you made your way to the gardens. You once thought that your spot on the bench under your favourite tree was special before, but not like now. Now it was where you and Obi-Wan had spent most of your time together. It was where he held your hand as he comforted you.
When you sat down, you wasted no time. As you read the first words, you smiled.
-
My darling,
I hope that your world at home has felt just that little bit brighter since those days as it has for me. Commander Cody has noticed a change in me, and I am proud to say I know why.
Despite this, I miss you as every second passes. As I promised, I will find a way to visit you again. The moment I know of a day, I will write you immediately to tell you. Who knows? Maybe I’ll know when I’ll be able to see you next in the next few weeks.
Anyways, my dear, I hope you are well and I wait in anticipation to see your first letter. The thought of hearing your thoughts again excites me. Especially if you have any stories from your villages left. I would be more than delighted to hear about the little younglings that vie for your attention.
May this find you well and that you haven’t forgotten me in these days. It would be truly heartbreaking if it were so.
Yours,
Obi-Wan Kenobi
-
You couldn’t get to your room fast enough. It was the only place that you could think of that had a quill and ink and, most of all, privacy. Elation filled you with each quick step you took.
The letter may not have been long, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he missed you just as you missed him. Not only that, but he wants to hear more stories. Perhaps you’ll send him a few. Or would that be too much?
In the end, it didn’t matter. If you knew him, he wouldn’t mind. He’d probably say he’d rather more than less.
So, you took your quill in hand for your reply. Starting off, after saying that you missed him as well and that you felt the same, about his remark about children being ‘younglings’. It was the most adorable thing in the world to you. You only wished that he had called them that when he was still here.
-
And that’s how it began. The two of you wrote each other every day. His letters would always arrive early in the day, and you would write a response just as quickly. This went on for five months.
Some were simply just the two of you conversing back and forth. Others… Well, others were most purely love letters. They were always mainly from Obi-Wan’s end. His way with words was a lot more elegant than yours. Yet he would always let you know that your insecurities were unfounded.
It was always sweet when he made sure that you weren’t being stupid or that you were doing something wrong. Most of all, he helped you through a new transition.
As the days went on, more and more people started paying attention to you. After all of these years, people were finally seeing the work you did for your kingdom. Hardly anyone was using you as a gateway to your brothers. They were truly coming to you!
When you had told Obi-Wan, he was so proud of you. He said how much you deserved the recognition. You had asked if it was his doing but he swore it wasn’t. He may have told a few people about you but he didn’t push them to learn more about what you do.
Padmé, other than Obi-Wan of course, was your biggest supporter. She would rave about how popular you were getting.
Yes, you may be getting popular. Some would say even more than your brothers. Though, a small part of you wished that you could go back to the way it was before. You wanted to go back to the days that only Obi-Wan noticed you.
You had confided in him one day about it. He had written in response: My darling, I understand how you feel. Unfortunately things like this will change. I do apologize if it were due to me, but just think. Maybe this will benefit you in the future. Just think, if you needed assistance in aiding a village or town, you have people who know what you do that would want to help. I hope that you realize how good this could be later on just as I do. If not, then there may be a way to get it closer to how it used to be. Either way, my dear, I hope this makes you feel better.
In truth, it had made you feel better. It made you look at the true benefits your newfound popularity had. Not only that, but it didn’t affect your life as much as you had thought at first. It was just new.
Now, one thing that happened a few times were days that you missed him. Those days it took over your thoughts to the point where you hardly left your room. It usually lasted for a few days and Obi-Wan was always there to talk you through it.
There was one string of days where both of you were in the same slump. Those were some of the deepest conversations you had ever had with each other. Whether it was saying how much the two of you cared for the other, or if you were telling each other about your darkest thoughts.
Obi-Wan had sent this one specific detail that had you simultaneously wishing you were with him and at least glad that he felt he could also confide in you. It was: Sometimes I think of my mother during days like this. I think of how I wish she were still here, to hear her say how happy she is that I found you. I do really believe that she would’ve loved you. And it’s days like this that I miss her the most. It’s days like this where I miss you. Days that I long for your gentle touch against my cheek. Wishing that I could hold you in my arms as we finally have the kiss that never happened. Honestly, darling, I exceedingly wish to be with you during these days and I wish I have found the time to come to you. But this time will still unfortunately have to wait to my dismay.
Forever yours,
Obi
Despite how strongly you agreed with Obi-Wan in that letter, you couldn’t help but feel a warm, bubbly sensation in his signature. You had started calling him Obi in your letters fairly early on. Other than that, him saying forever yours was something he had only recently started saying at the time. It made you smile each and every time.
For him to address himself by your nickname, though, made your heart flutter.
When you had written back, you consoled him when it came to his mother. From what you have told me, she sounds like an amazing woman. I would’ve loved her right back if we had the privilege to meet. As for being in your arms, I also deeply wish to be back there. Each ghosting touch and the feel of your hand in mine makes me yearn to feel it again. I yearn to fully feel the press of your lips to mine rather than a light graze or pressed against my knuckles. I will look forward to the day we meet again.
Your darling,
Y/N
Of those days, they weren’t the deepest of them all, but they were up there. After that, the dark spell of days was shared only ever briefly. Mainly switching between the both of you, each comforting the other as the longing to see the other grew with each passing day.
One day, he had written something that had you puzzled, yet feeling excited. The line was: We will see each other sooner than you know, my dear.
“Varlo, may I ask you something?”
He gave you a mischievous smirk, “I think that just was one.”
You rolled your eyes. “Do you know if anyone is scheduled to visit in the next week?”
Varlo looked off in the distance as he thought. “Other than the people that now only want to talk to you, no. Not that I know of. Why?”
“No reason,” you said, looking back down at the letter. Could he have possibly found a time where he could come back? It would make sense as he didn’t truly tell you that. He probably wanted to make sure he actually could before telling you.
Either way, you wrote your normal reply. Adding in details about how this amazing festival in Naboo was happening in a few days. It was called the Festival of Light and it was something you had always attended. Whether it was because Padmé wanted you there or if you went on your own, it didn’t matter. Other than Anakin, you were usually the only one in your family to go.
You wished that Obi-Wan could see it. It was such a beautiful festival. Your favourite part was the first night where lanterns would be released in the sky. They all floated until they looked like stars themselves, lifting everyone’s dreams in hopes that they will be met.
It was wonderful. What a sight it was to see all of those lanterns become stars. You always had thought that Padmé’s father was a genius to start this tradition. The tradition was well received the minute it was introduced. Although it started before you were born, you had known it all your life. You attended it all your life. Now you wish you could attend it with the one you wished to be with all your life.
That would just have to wait.
-
“I thought you were supposed to be meeting with General Yoda?” you asked Anakin who had his arm linked with Padmé’s. She giggled as Anakin pretended to ponder what you said.
“I was supposed to. A more important matter came up though,” he said with a playful tone. His smirk was a mischievous one as he caught a glance at your friend.
Confusion filled you. What could be more important than a meeting with the high general? With the way he looked at Padmé, though, you assumed that may be the reason. Everyone knew he would drop everything for her.
Anakin looked over at you and you must not have been hiding your confusion as well as you thought you were. To the best of his ability, he nudged his elbow into your arm.
“What? Can I not just spend time with my little sis and my beautiful wife-to-be?”
You rolled your eyes as Padmé spoke, “You mean even more time than you do already?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. He was almost always with one of you or Varlo. If you tried to separate Anakin from the ones he loved, or at least tolerated, he would have a fit. He craved attention and companionship and you didn’t blame him. It was something that you never knew you needed until you met Obi-Wan.
“Ok, one question you can’t try and dodge, where are we going?”
“Well, you see, sis, that is another question I will dodge. You know why?” You shook your head. He leaned closer whispering, “It doesn’t matter.”
You groaned, slapping your hand against your forehead causing your friend to break into a fit of laughter. All you wanted to know was what he had planned. There had to be something if he no longer was meeting with General Yoda. No one just stood up the man either. Yoda may be a wise and calm man, but he could easily take you down any day. Whether that be physically or verbally.
“Why do you so badly want to know anyways?” Anakin asked. This time sounding genuinely interested.
“No one just reschedules with General Yoda. Especially not you so I’m curious as to the change of plans that involves both Padmé and I.”
Anakin actually seemed shocked by what you said. Almost as if he actually hadn’t thought of an answer to a statement like that. So, he was silent for a few moments. That was, before he finally came up with, “You’ll see.”
Now you were more confused than ever. Was he setting up something with Varlo? Was this all going to be a trick? It wouldn’t be the first and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Or maybe it was a new person that wanted to meet you.
Thanks to Obi-Wan’s words, you had grown used to constant meetings with people who wanted to ask you about what you do. There were some who asked what was going on between you and Obi-Wan, but those questions usually didn’t last.
You knew there were rumours that people thought the two of you were an item, which was true, but some were disconcerting. Some had thought that he was taking advantage of you for power gain. Others had painted your family in a dark light, saying that they were using you as a way to gain more allies rather than caring about you.
Thankfully, those rumours were rather rare to come across. Plus, Obi-Wan had always told you how they didn’t matter. The two of you found each other, and chose each other on your own. Not because of any outside influence or any ulterior motives.
Your thoughts were racing, unable to settle on one possible answer to what Anakin had planned. You would’ve said Padmé hadn’t known either, if it weren’t for her ultimate calmness. If she were as confused as you, she wouldn’t be as composed or… excited as she seemed to be.
Those racing thoughts were put on hold as your journey led you to the gardens. The sights never failed to put your mind at ease. Now was no exception.
Usually you would come here to read Obi-Wan’s letters. It was free of crowds, leaving you in privacy as you looked over the beautiful handwriting. For a time, you had even kept a satchel that held all of his letters in the garden. That didn’t last long as one day Varlo found them.
In his usual annoying ways, you had to fight to get them back. He teased you, positioning them out of reach until he was done with his entertainment. It was something he did often, lately. Teasing you or playing jokes that would often go too far. A small part of you wondered if it were because he was slowly taking up the role you once held. You hated to see that people no longer seemed interested in Varlo’s political accomplishments. Yet, he didn’t need to take it out on you.
So, the letters had found a different place. A place where Varlo couldn’t find them and hide them and a place that should’ve seemed like a no brainer from the start. Your bedroom.
Even so, the garden was where you would read them. Sometimes you would even write your letters on that bench under the tree.
As the three of you walked through, you listened to the conversation your brother and friend were having. They really were a cute couple, no matter how much you teased them. Listening to them talk only proved this.
The closer you got to the tree, the more you saw excitement grow in both of them even as they seemed to be normally conversing. Now you knew something was up. What kind of plan could Anakin come up with that got them so excited, but never tell you? You thought you were used to being a third wheel before, but this was amplified.
You let it go. It’s not like this was the first time something similar has happened. With that being said, you took a slight lead ahead of the two. A small part of you was hoping that, as soon as you got to the tree bench, you could stay there. That way you could feel close to Obi-Wan although you weren’t.
Continuing on your path, you noticed that Anakin and Padmé were drawing further and further back. Were you walking that quickly, or did they slow down without you realizing. With all of that considered, you just shrugged and kept going. If they wanted to catch up they would tell you.
There was one last corner to turn before you would finally be able to seek some peace.
When you turned the corner, you froze. Were you seeing right? Was this even possible? You turned to look at the other two, but they weren’t there. Was this what they were so excited about? It had to be. Why else would they now have up and disappeared right as you arrive here.
Obi-Wan stood from the bench, facing you with a smile that you could tell he was trying to contain. He still looked just as handsome as the day he had left. The outfit he was wearing was similar to the one he wore at the ball, but much more toned down and casual. Well, casual for royalty anyways.
Tears were building as you smiled bigger than you ever thought you could.
“Obi!” you exclaimed as you could no longer hold back. You ran to him, crashing into his outstretched arms. The feeling of them coming around your back and pulling you in close was enough to make you start sobbing.
“Hello there, darling,” he whispered into your hair. Gently he rubbed your back as he slowly swayed from side to side, refusing to let you go. Even if he did, you wouldn’t.
As you buried your face into his chest you smelled the hint of cinnamon that was mixed with just him.
“I missed you,” you mutter into his chest.
“I missed you too. With all of my being,” he said, making your heart flutter. There were days you never thought you would hear his beautiful voice ever again. You no longer had to worry about that. He was here, holding you as tightly as you were him.
- - -
@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05 @blondekel77 @cosmicsierra @badbatch-simp24
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legolasbadass · 3 years
Text
A Lifetime Apart [1/3]
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Artwork by the lovely @gwen-ever​
Relationship: Thorin x OC
Summary: Thorin meets his One while still a young prince in Erebor, but their lives are torn apart by their families and the arrival of Smaug. 
Based on Alice Tynan’s interview with Richard Armitage in ‘The Vine,’ this fic was inspired by @gwen-ever’s wonderful art for the @tolkienrsb 2021! 
Warnings: Angst. Seriously guys, this is really angsty, get your tissues ready. (gwen and I are not sorry lol)
Rating: T
As always, the fic can be read on AO3. 
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 
There is a room in Erebor, a secret place where once their love bloomed in peace. All the memories of that place, where he held her and worshipped her with his lips, were forever engraved in his mind. It was there that, after months of struggling with his feelings, he had realized she was his One.
All Dwarves know that Mahal sometimes creates two of his children from the same stone, bonding them for life. Of course, not all Dwarves marry. Even those granted this honour by their Maker do not always choose to marry, for some value friendship above all other bonds, while others devote themselves to their craft. Still, as a young boy, Thorin had hoped Mahal would deem him worthy, and every night he had dreamt of the moment he would meet his One, conjuring their likeness like an artist who paints a picture and gives it life.
He had also wondered what it would feel like to meet his One. Would he know immediately? And how would he know? Perhaps it would be like in those romance novels his sister liked so much. A tender, all-consuming look from across the room, silently reassuring the other that they had found each other at last.
Perhaps due to long hours in the council chamber, Thorin had become more of a realist as the years went on. He always had to be on his guard, and he learned quickly that he could not trust his desires, for they could be manipulated by advisors and enemies alike. Romanticism was fine for artists but not for princes. The idea of a destined love became no more than a child’s fanciful dream, and Thorin grew gradually less opposed to the concept of an arranged marriage until the thought of it did not bother him at all. After all, his parents had been married for a political alliance and had still grown to care for each other. Thorin knew he would do the same.
At least, that was what he had told himself before he met Rúna, his dear Rúna.
He did not know immediately that she was his One, but from the moment their gazes met, he knew he would never again be the same. Her presence had so bewitched him that he had not realized he was walking toward her until she stood right in front of him. Then, stumbling over his every word, he had thought himself defeated, oblivious to the fact that she felt the same indescribable pull toward him.
“Thorin, at your service,” had been his first words to her.
“Rúna, daughter of Ragni, your highness,” she had replied with a curtsy, enchanting him all the more with her melodious voice.
“I hope you are having a pleasant time, Lady Rúna.” Already, he had loved the way her name rolled off his tongue.
“More pleasant than you, at least, seeing as you have found nothing better to do than stare at me from across the room,” she had replied teasingly.
Blushing furiously, he had attempted to remain formal and composed but, ultimately, had failed miserably. “I had hoped that would go unnoticed, or at the very least, that you would humour me and pretend like nothing had transpired. And just because I was watching you does not mean I am not having a pleasant time. On the contrary, my spirits were lifted by the sight of your fairness.”
Thorin could still remember the beautiful blush that had painted her cheeks. “Forgive me,” he had said hastily. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“I did not say I did not enjoy it,” she had replied with the most enchanting smirk.
That was how their conversations usually unfolded. Thorin, who always prided himself on being in control and always knowing what to say, would find himself barely able to think. He blamed her low-cut gowns and the redness of her lips for that.
They soon became inseparable. Every day, they would meet in their secret room, a haven where they shared stolen kisses and soft caresses. Âzyungel, she would call him, for she, too, had accepted Mahal’s will. She had accepted Thorin as hers, and in those moments, both of them had believed nothing would ever separate them, for they were destined to be together.
Deep in the caverns of his mind, a voice called out to Thorin, warning him against the intensity of his passion, but he did not listen. He found himself thinking of her at the most inappropriate times, and she haunted the nights he wished he could spend with her. When he closed his eyes, he saw her smile and heard her laughter, clearer than the soft splashing of water against limestone rocks.
What would it be like to spend his whole life with her, his Rúna?
Thorin thought with utter surety that he would soon know when they announced to their families their intent to wed. At first, everyone was overjoyed. Rúna came from a wealthy and respectable family, so the king had no objections to his grandson’s choice — not that any of that mattered to the couple. Ale and Dorwinion wine flowed freely as the news travelled through the mountain. The prince had chosen his princess.
Thorin and Rúna welcomed their families’ approval, but they secretly longed to be alone once more. When at last they found themselves in the comfort of Thorin’s chambers, they drank some more wine between languid kisses, committing the moment to memory. Fingers braided hair then caressed the skin they hastily revealed, their cheeks tainted with the soft glow of love.
That night, like their hearts forever bound, their bodies became one. Thorin was gentle, attentive to her every need, and even afterwards, he continued to bathe her in tenderness, scattering kisses all over her skin as they murmured promises of eternal love to each other, bodies entangled.
Rúna fell asleep to the soft lullaby of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and though she never doubted for a second his sincerity and devotion, those promises were never fulfilled.
Rúna knew they should have been patient, and although she was usually very sensible, she had not known how to resist her handsome prince, especially not when his body had promised her glorious passion, now and for the rest of their lives. Besides, it was not as though premarital relations were unheard of. However, princes had to follow much stricter rules. And these rules had been carelessly ignored. And as the days went on, Rúna knew she would not have the luxury of keeping their transgression a secret, for inside her bloomed the product of her and Thorin’s love, but also the cause of their demise.
Even if it had not been for her growing belly, her morning sickness and alarmingly fluctuating moods would have given her away. And they did. She had never seen her parents so furious, and their disappointment pierced her heart. Her father shouted about her stained reputation and their ruined bloodline, leaving her in tears as she tried to scramble away in search of Thorin even as she knew it was hopeless.
She knew they would separate them.
King Thror, with the support of Thorin’s parents, banished Rúna from Erebor, never to see her beloved again. She tried to fight them, indignation festered inside her like a poisoned wound, the unattainable promise of Thorin’s love shattering her heart into a million pieces, but it was hopeless.
They did not inform Thorin of this, for it was their firm intention never to let him know about the bastard child. Instead, they told him she was bedridden while they conjured up a more permanent plan. And so, unaware that his One had been taken from him, Thorin brought flowers to Rúna’s door every day. He hated every moment he was forced to spend away from her — it felt unnatural — but he consoled himself by thinking that they would spend their whole lives together.
Then the dragon came.
Thorin had been out hunting in the woods with his siblings when a strong wind began to rattle the treetops. Then a roar like thunder split the sky, and the blood of Thorin’s veins froze when he heard a shout from afar.
“Dragon!”
Rúna.
Without so much as a glance at his companions, Thorin bolted toward the mountain, fear clogging his throat.
Refusing to believe this was real, he did not even stop when the gates loomed above him, riddled in flames, but the screams piercing his ears grounded him to the bitterness of reality. The air was wrought with the stench of burning flesh and the sorrow of a broken people. All around him, children cried in fright, and mothers wept while the distant ringing of useless steel announced their defeat.
No help came from the Elves that day, nor any day since; a betrayal Thorin never forgot. Even if there had been survivors still clawing for breath inside the mountain, they had no means to reach them.
Rúna.
Thorin searched for her everywhere, shouting her name until his lungs burned, but when the moon appeared, and she was still nowhere to be found, Thorin knew it was hopeless. Grief crashed over him like a hurricane.
He had lost her.
He wanted to tear the sky open and demand retribution from Mahal himself, but all his remaining strength he used to remain on his feet. He had to be strong for his people — what remained of them. His family had miraculously survived, but even that could not have filled the gaping hole where his heart had once beat.
Rúna, his dear Rúna. The memory of her lips against his turned to ash in his mouth. When he had last kissed her and held her, he had done so thinking he would have a lifetime to keep loving her. But she was now no more than a memory.
He forced himself not to think of that, for his people needed him now more than ever. Only once he was finally alone did he let his tears run free, and all through the night, he sobbed into his pillow, his only comfort the memories of their secret room, untouched by fire and blood. Thorin held onto those memories all through the years, never forgetting, never forgiving.
Khuzdul translations:
Âzyungêl: Love of Loves (used here to refer to the Dwarven belief in a single, destined soulmate)
Taglist: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @mcchiberry @bitter-sweet-farmgirl​ @i-did-not-mean-to​
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a-marlene-s · 4 years
Text
Commission: Actions and Consequences
Tags: (I’m going to do a reblog tomorrow with the tags.)
@miner249er commissioned me to write this fic.
If you like my work, please considering supporting me! https://ko-fi.com/a_marlene_s
Warning: SALT SALT SALT SALT. CLASS SALT! LILA SALT! ADRIEN SALT!
Oh, and there’s a bit of Lukanette in this~
----
You know what they say…
All actions have consequences.
Every choice has a consequence.
Be responsible and be…
You get the idea.
This has been on the mind of everyone in the school of Dupont for who knows how long. Oh wait, that really hit home when one Lila Rossi came to Paris and started her lies. It looks like the only ones that were clearly fooled by her lies is the Akuma Class. Including their own teacher!
Well… except for Marinette.
She is the only one that is not fooled into believing such things. Who in the right mind would believe any of that? Akuma class, that is whom. People began to pull away from them. One by one, not wanting to be connected to them. Not so much for the fact they are known as the Akuma class… it is for the lack of regard they have for Marinette.
How dare they treat Marientte in such a way! After what she has done for them! For all of them! They believe the words of that liar over a friend they have known far longer. Some have tried to reach out, but Rossi is always near or just sucks them back into her webs of lies. Whatever work they have to get their friends back to a world of reality, it is reversed back the moment they step back into that classroom filled with webs.
Many have tried and tried again to help them. To help them see the light of what has been going on, but they all refused to see the light. Many of them growing toxic to themselves that it is better to cut ties then to deal with them anymore.
Who could blame them?
They tried. Truly tried.
Did they want to lose their friends?
No. They did not. But for their own health and sanity… they cut their losses and moved on. At least, they are reassured, that the only ones in Rossi’s grasp is the Akuma class sans Marientte Dupain-Cheng. For which, they made a promise to get protect her from them. She does not deserve the mistreatment. No one does.
-.-
It started out small.
Too busy to hang out.
Leaving messages on read.
Avoiding having them around.
Cutting conversations short.
Many other things to get away.
Some others… are more up front with their dislike with Lila Rossi.
They do not bother to hide their disgust.
Some kept quiet to a degree…
Mireille gave Lila a worried smile as she started to tear up about Aurore’s mistreatment towards the latter. She simply patted Lila’s cheek, leaning close so that she could wrap her arms around Lila to give her a comforting hug… before whispering into her ear as everyone watched on. “Play along… after all… this is just a game for you. You don’t want to disappoint your audience.”
It wasn’t much of an issue to play along with Lila’s games when she tried to bring in the Akuma Class as backup. Long as you show sympathy, play along with Lila’s games against her… you should be good. Lila will never break in character in front of them. Long as you don’t call her out in front of them and act just as deluded to make her mess up, it’s all good.
Then there are the times one has to be more up front…
“Achoo! Ugh, sorry, allergies you see.” Aurore sneered out as she ‘accidentally’ stabbed her umbrella into Lila’s hair when she sneezed. “I’m allergic to bullshit.”
Lila’s jaw dropped as she tried to pull her hair but only wincing as her hair really got caught in the umbrella. She looked around, hoping to catch someone’s attention. But… no one is paying any mind. If anything, one of them even went as far to offer Aurore an allergy pill. “Why are you doing this? I never did anything to anyone!”
“Oh, shut up. We all know you’ve been mistreating Marinette since day one.” Aurore teased, there was a glint in her eyes as she easily untangled her umbrella out of Lila’s hair. “All of us were willing to stand back because Marinette asked us to. Then you got her expelled… Let’s make some truths…”
-.-
Slowly but surely, things began to change for Bustier’s Class. Or better known as, the Akuma Class began to see a change. Then again, things have been happening and have been so caught up in Lila’s lies to even take note of any of it at first.
Many have already put a distance between them and themselves.
It’s silly really. None of them really had taken note of the fact here is now a wall between them. Slowly growing as time goes by. It really came ahead when news spread around on Marinette’s expulsion and her return back to school without much of a say on what happened.
Except for the fact Lila claims Marinette had stolen an answer sheet, her necklace and pushed said girl down a staircase.
Why no one bothered to look deeper into those lies, is beyond anyone at this point. What really got to the rest of the school is how the Akuma Class, Bustier and Damocles’ are so far up Lila’s ass that they wonder if they could even see the sun at this point. It was at that point, the gloves were off and no more.
It was time to bring out the big guns when word got out that Lila supposedly has a lying disorder… only to Bustier and Damocles. Only them, no one else. Thus, only causing more tension for Marinette with the rest of her classmates as they still believe the original lies. All of them giving her a side eye, wondering what she should do next.
Marinette doing something against Lila?
Hah.
It’s going to be the entirety of Dupont against Lila now.
Dupont vs the Akuma Class, sans Marinette. They love their sleep deprived cinnamon roll that could possibly kill them once she finds out what they are up to.
It would be so worth it though…
-.-
“I’m sorry Rose, I’m going to be busy that weekend. Busy, busy at the studio!”  Mireille smiled sweetly at Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Alya and Lila. “Nadja is prepping me to do live interviews over the weekend. I’ve been told I might interview a rock star! Isn’t that great!”
“Wow! That’s amazing, Mireille!” Rosa said in awe. The others following along, amazed by the news.  They were gushing over the fact Mireille is possibly going to interview a pop star soon. Going on and on… Mireille simply smile, keeping her arms behind her back and her knuckles turning white as she kept a tight grip on the back of her blouse. She kept an eye on Lila, her smile only growing as Lila tried to steer the conversation back to herself.
Mireille did not care; this would be the perfect opportunity for her to walk away.
Expect when she saw Marinette walk down the hallway with Aurore.
“Hey Marinette, did you hear? Lila knows who Mireille is going to interview.” Alya mentioned, grinning at Lila’s direction. “
Marinette paused, nose scrunching up. She looked over at Mireille to see her eyes narrowing at the direction of Lila. Clearly, this is one of the many lies Lila has up her sleeves. Aurore smiled at Lila, almost warningly. “Yeah, she told us last week.”
Marinette looked around her classmates to smile at Mireille. “Nadja finally got in contact with them?”
“Thanks to you, Marinette. Nadja got in contact with all of them.” Mireille smiled widely at Marientte and Aurore. “We can’t thank you enough for that favor! Come on! I know the perfect tea shop!”
Mireille walked over to Marinette and looped an arm around one of Marinette’s own. Her smile only grew as Aurore looped her own arm around Marinette’s free arm. The two girls quickly pulled Marinette away from Lila’s sights all the while talking about the interview and the tea shop.
“Did… did they just ditch us?” Alya pulled a face as she watched Aurore, Marinette and Mireille walk away. Mireille had earlier mentioned she was going to be busy after classes which is why they asked her if she was going to be free this weekend. Apparently, she’s supposedly busy with other things than to thang out with them. Why?
“Hey, girls… is everything alright, Alya?”
Alya and the rest of the girls turned around to see Nino and Adrien walking up to them. Her smile grew when she saw Lila warp an arm around Adrien’s own. What she didn’t see is how stiff his smile became but continued on.
Adrien looked ahead to see Marinette with a Mireille and Aurore. The three chatting away without a care in the world. His brows furrowed at the sight. As of late, this has been becoming the norm…
-.-
“Mom said we could hire a DJ for the event, but…”
“Davis already have the day filled?”
“Yeah. Along with Diego, Mei and Lola.”
“What about Nino? He DJ’s, too right?”
“Hah! Dad, don’t joke! Like I want him to DJ the party! Marinette is going to be there and if I have him there, he’s going to wonder why no one else in his class was invited. I am not going to invite a bunch of people that have been mistreating my friend.” Claude grimaced at the thought. He was not going to have Nino DJ his party. If things were different, things would have been different. It is his party. His. He is not going to run the risk of Lila Rossi and her flying monkeys coming to his party and making it all about her.
Yeah… that is not happening.
Lila will find a way turn the party so that it’s geared towards her. She did that at Izzy’s 15 birthday bash and it took Izzy weeks to console her after she regretfully invited Rose, who in turn invited Lila after she overheard the blonde telling Juleka about it. Rose never asked or apologized to Izzy about inviting Lila, who in turn invited her flying monkeys.
Yeah… Claude was not going to let that happen. To make sure that does not happen no one from the Akuma Class, except for Marinette, is invited to his party.
“That’s a bit harsh. I’m sure there’s more to the story. You and Nino were good friends for some time now.” Claude’s father said, worry filled his tone.
“And I thought Nino was close friends with Marinette far longer but apparently that does not matter to him.” Claude deadpan. “I am not going to have Nino DJ the party. Plus his girlfriend is Lila’s main supporter. If I do have Nino DJ, he’ll tell Alya who will tell Lila and I am back to square one. The one I want to avoid! I don’t want Lila Rossi at my party!”
“I’m sure she’s just trying to make friends…”
“…that’s what you said about Clarice before mom divorced you.”
-.-
Adrien paused mid-bite, straining his ears to overhear what is being said on the booth several seats away. He overhead Claude saying Nino and Lila’s names several times but never a clear sentence. It took a while before it caught on what is being said.
Izzy’s party was amazing to say the least! He went along as the rest of his classmates invited him along and he finally got permission to go by his father. The party was amazing to say the least! The music! The food! Everything else!
Why wouldn’t Claude want to ask Nino to DJ his party? It wouldn’t be a bad idea to invite everyone. It would be horrible to note everyone. Wasn’t Claude friends with everyone in his class?
Right?
Sitting across of Adrien is Nino, concentrating on a calendar that he brought out along. Nino has been… struggling to get gigs for a while now. It was not so much he could not get someone to hire him, from what Nino has been telling Adrien, it’s actually doing his job. As of late, he hasn’t been asked to DJ for anyone else outside of his class. Sure, there are some here and there, but at times… he needed to cancel because Alya wanted to do something with Lila and wanted him there for it.
-.-
Luka resisted the urge to pull out his ears as the rest of Kitty Section, sans Adrien and Marientte, whisper to other. All the while sending him weird looks throughout. This is the first time they have met up for practice in well over a month since they keep bailing on practice. Why? They prefer to hang out with Alya… who is hanging out with this Lila Rossi. All. The. Time.
They all have been talking about Lila Rossi… nonstop. Going on and on about her. To the point, Luka suspects that Rose wrote a song about her for some damned reason. Why are they talking about her?
Lila Rossi knows Jagged Stone.
How Lila Rossi’s dance move got stolen from Clara Nightingale.
How close she is to Prince Ali.
Lila knows a lot of people that could, supposedly, get them famous. How Lila has connections to help Kitty Section become famous. Knows someone that would make them better costumes. Along with even knowing how to write better music.
Lila this…
Lila could do this.
Luka stood up from his spot from the makeshift stage with his guitar in hand. There tunes are different, no longer in tune to the music, let alone to their hearts. More so when he is supposedly out of ear shot and they started to whisper about how Lila mentioned that he, the founder of Kitty Section, should no longer be in the band. How Lila told them how he is hold them back and that she knows someone that is better than himself.
Him holding them back.
Really?
Rossi is the one that is holding them back.
If they want to repeat that broken tune, so be it. He needs to find his muse. Luka left them to whisper to themselves. If Lila believes that they do not need him, so be it. Leaving without much of a fight, he knew when it was a time to retreat until they got their bearings. Right now, he now needs to find out more about Lila Ros-
“Psst! Over here!”
“Hey! You! Luka!”
Luka paused, an eyebrow raised as he slowly turned around to see two individuals, some of his sister’s friends from a different class, are calling out to him. They were both holding umbrellas, which only made them stand out more in his opinion. “Hello?”
“Come here!” The blonde motioned for him to walk over to them.
“Hurry before they see you!” The other said, pointing down the hall. Luka looked down said hall to see Adrien and some unknown girl that is clinging onto his arm. Oh.
Luka hurried over to the girls and they promptly hid him under their umbrellas and behind the pillar with them. It was close enough to listen into whatever Adrien and the new girl’s conversation.
-.-
Adrien stood by as Kitty Section walked out to meet him and Lila, and they started to talk about Lila’s advice. What’s this advice? That it would better for Luka to leave Kitty Section as it would be too weird for him to be in the band with them. It is concerning to say the least. Are the really going to kick out Luka from the band?
“It is better this way. Luka is only holding all of you back.” Lila smiled at her classmates as she tightened her grasp around Adrien’s arm. “All of you are better off without him. I’ve talked to that producer friend of mine and Jagged Stone, and they both agree. Luka is no good for your image.”
“I suppose you are right…” Juleka said, twiddling around with her gloves. Rose reached over to hold onto her hands and gave her an encouraging smile. Juleka chewed on her bottom lip as she thought it over.
“I am positive that Luka will understand.” Lila smiled once more and this seemed to put Juleka in a better place.
“We have been practicing without him for the last month.” Rose mentioned, tugging onto Juleka’s hands. “We could do it.”
Lila smiled brightly, increasing her hold around Adrien. She looked at the blonde for support. “Right, Adrien?”
-.-
Who does she think she is???
They have been practicing without him.  For the past month? Without him? Well, that’s one thing he could easily take with a grain of salt. What his sister is saying has his song beating a new beat that hasn’t been played for so long. What really got Luka’s attention is the fact they were all eating up Lila’s lies.
Are they really that gullible?
“This is just the bare minimum of what Rossi has been doing to your sister’s class.” Aurore explained, motioning for Luka to follow her and Mireille.
Luka’s brows furrowed over the blonde’s words. “…Is something being down about it?”
“More or less, but that’s for later. Right now, we are planning a party later for Marinette and we need you to distract her for a bit.” Aurore said, nudging Luka with her elbow and gave him a sly grin. “The party is for her. Did she tell you about her class situation?”
“Marinette has mentioned she wanted to tell me something but everytime she tried to say it, one of her classmates popped up and she would go quiet…” Luka trailed off as he took that in. Oh, that would explain some things. Shaking his head, he would ask her later about it. “I’ll talk to her later about it. Tell me more about this Lila…? I don’t like her song.”
-.-
Mendeleiev was never one that cared so much to know about the personal lives of her students. In terms that, she does not care who is dating (long as it is a healthy and very much legal relationship), knowing what her students are doing after classes (long as it is nothing illegal or against the rules), and well… whatever she had just witnessed from down the hall.
Ondine just broke up with Kim.  
Which is a big surprise considering how googly eyed they are… were for each other. A big shock, that’s for sure. However… considering what has been going on, it’s no surprise to anyone. Well…
To Bustier’s class that is. Those poor, poor, souls do not know what is coming to them. It was just a matter of time and patience before someone loses said patience. There is only so much someone could stand idly by or do their best to help others, before washing their hands of them. Look at herself? Mendeleiev did so to Bustier due to the fact the younger woman refuses to listen to reason.
Mendeleiev shook her head as she headed to her room. She needed to create some paperwork in hopes that will push some people to see things her way.
-.-
Adrien gulped when he heard the news that Ondine broke up with Kim. That came out from nowhere! Completely out of nowhere. Why did she break up with them? They were so happy together it does not make any sense.
A lot of things have not been making sense for a while now. Many of those things were small at first, but Adrien could no longer shake off that creeping feeling there is more t-
“Adrien… a word?”
-.-
Marinette stared down at her phone, her shoulders shaking as she read the text messages her fri… her classmates are sending her. Varies of texts that has her wondering what the heck is going on to her class, are they finally seeing the rest of the school just does not tolerate Lila?
“Block them, Mari.” Luka murmured into her ear while he played with her loose hair. He and Marinette were in her latter’s room on the sofa, with the bluenette snuggled up to Luka. He reached for the phone and took it from Marinette, ignoring the pout that was sent his way. Placing the phone in his pocket for safe keeping, Luka wrapped his arms around Marinette and reached down to give her a peck on her neck.
“I suppose I could forget about them for now…” Marinette giggled at Luka’s actions, she smiled when she felt Luka grin against her neck. She raised an eyebrow at Luka, despite the fact he could not see it. “Are you hiding something from me, Luka?”
“You could say that… Aurore and Mireille asked me to distract you as they set up a surprise.” Luka mumbled into her neck, his grin ever present. “How am I in distracting you?”
Marinette’s jaw drop when she felt Luka started to press kisses up and down her neck, her mind went blank just long enough to return the favor. This was so much better than dealing with her classmates demanding answers to something they should have known since day one.
-.-
“Ugh, again with Lila crap?”
“I know, right? Why does Alya keep posting those so-called interviews she has for Rossi?”
“I don’t know, but have you seen ClaudetteOneEye’s reaction and debunking of it? Hah! Her best yet!”
“She already did a reaction to it! I need to watch it!”
“We still have time before class, watch it now!”
Alya really wanted to storm out of the stall and yell at the individuals that were clearing mocking Lila, who in turn mocking her. What is there to debunk? There is nothing to debunk! Lila has been most telling about her history with Ladybug. They are best friends for Pete’s sake! Alya took out her phone and started her search to show those gir-
“You know how Alya always goes on and on about how she’s a reporter and always checks her facts…”
Snort.
“Hah. Her checking facts? Has she ever checked on any of the crap Lila has been spewing? Any of it?”
“I know, right? Plus, has she ever asked Ladybug about it before posting any of their interviews?”
“Like the little good reporter that she is? Unlikely. No wonder Ladybug has been ignoring her.”
Has… has she ever asked Ladybug about Lila? Alya ran a hand through her hair as she tried to think of an answer to her question. Of course, there were times when she has recently tried to get an interview, but Ladybug just… started to avoid her.
-.-
“Saving Jagged Stone’s cat? If they looked it up, they would have checked that him and his fiancé are allergic to animal fur.”
“Doesn’t he have a pet crocodile?”
“Yeah. He does.”
“That’s just as pathetic as her knowing Prince Ali and being friends with him.”
“Uggghhhh. That doesn’t even make sense, she’s been here in Paris for months before she started coming to Dupont.”
“That’s what I thought! Among the other bull she’s spewed out, the ones that grinds my gears are all the ones she lied about Marinette…”
“Yeah. They all known her for years and this new girl comes along and what? All that goes out the window?”
“Marinette does so much for them, and this is the thanks she gets? That they’ll believe Lila’s lies that she supposedly pushed her down the stairs, steal her necklace and some other bullshit?”
“Still heated about it?”
“Of course, I’m heating about it! They still think she did those things! From what Marinette told Aurore and Mireille, they didn’t even let her talk or defend herself. They took Lila’s side and expelled her.”
“Tell me again, how Marinette got un-expelled?”
“From what Marinette told them… Lila said she had a lying disease.”
“That is bull. I am so over the moon over the fact she’ll be leaving that class. Come on, Aurore said she’s going to need help setting things up.”
Juleka, Mylene and Nathaniel pushed themselves against the wall as they watched several students run past them towards the courtyard. Their expressions betrayed how they felt over what they just overheard. Did they just hear right? Lila has been lying this whole time… and none of them… No, just their class never caught it.
Except for Marinette.
Mylene shakily took out her phone to look up all of Lila’s stories, the others followed in doing so.
-.-
Adrien sat on a stone bench as he watched Kagami paced in front of him. Every time he tried to say something, she would shoot in a glare. He looked down on his lap as he tried to think of what he should say when he’s finally able to speak. Somehow, Kagami found out about Lila’s lies. All of them. From whom, he does not know. Maybe Marientte told her, he’ll have to ask her about it. She shouldn’t have told Kagami about Lila. “Kagami, did Marientte tell you about Lila? I-”
“Agreste, everyone at school and whoever has met Rossi, knows she is a liar. Everything that has ever come out of her mouth is a lie. Everything.” Kagami said in a tight voice. She stopped pacing to stare down at Adrien. “Marientte told me nothing. I was the one that had to go around to figure out exactly what type of person she is.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about Lila before you asked others?” Adrien asked, head shooting up to stare at Kagami with confusion. “I would ha-”
“You would have attempted to pressure me to not do anything against Rossi once I found out exactly what kind of person she is. However, considering you never told her off about that picture she took of the two of you…” Kagami looked up and down at Adrien, her mouth twisted into a scowl. “You would have attempted to have me stay quiet about Rossi’s nature. Just like you are doing to, Marinette… correct?”
“I-I just don’t want to cause problems!” Adrien exclaimed, pushing himself off the bench. “I don’t want any problems in class, and with Marinette trying to out Lila it was impossible. I don’t want Lila to get akumatized anymore.”
Kagami stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what of your classmates? Your friends? Marinette or myself? I was akumatized because of her, remember? Don’t we all matter too?”
“It’s more complicated than that, Kagami.”  
“Complicated? Complicated! How is that complicated! Explain yourself!”
“…”
“…What did you tell Marinette about Lila’s lies? Adrien, what did you tell her?”
“Could we drop this?”
“Tell. Me.”
“I told her, as long as me and her know the truth, does it really matter?”
“Adrien, it does matter! Everything matters! You are allowing Rossi to walk all over Marinette and make her out to be the bad guy for trying to stand up for herself.” Kagami snarled out, causing Adrien to jump. “You are forcing her to stay quiet about someone’s lies. You do realize once your friends find out, they will be the ones that are going to get akumatized. Not Rossi. What then? Who are you going to protect then?”
“I’m doing my best, Kagami.” Adrien pleaded.
“Your best is not good enough. Rossi is escalating and you are doing nothing. What will happen if she says you two are dating? What then? Far as I supposed know, are dating but this is extremely one sided considering you keep putting Rossi’s feelings above everyone.”
“I… I don’t know…”
“…you are pathetic. Your best is not good enough and it will never be.” Kagami sniffed, she pulled out her phone to look at the time and grinned a bit. She put it away before starting back at an obviously hurt Adrien. “What? Like I would allow someone who I am supposedly seeing, to put some other girl’s feelings above my own.”
Adrien opened and closed his mouth, unable to say anything as he was unable to respond to Kagami’s words. How was he supposed to respond that, there was no answer to that for him. “Please understand th-”
Kagami shook her head before she pulled out phone before putting it away. She gave Adrien on last look before walking away. “You need to stop putting horrible people above those that have been nothing but supportive of you… It’s no wonder why Marinette has finally given up.”
-.-
Ladybug swung around Paris at night as she thought over today’s events. It’s safe to say, that today has been one of the best days of her life since becoming Ladybug to say the least. She felt free and no longer held up to an impossible standard. To think transferring to a different class has made her feel as such. It also may have helped she told everything to Luka what has been happening to her since Lila came to Paris. The memory of that conversation made her blush as at the end of it, they are now officially together. It made her happy, immensely so.
Their first date was at the welcoming party Aurore and Mireille threw for her transfer to their class. Best date and party ever. The cherry on top, was when her former classmates crashed the party(apparently that was planned) and Claudette of @ClaudetteOneEye did a live reaction to one of the newest interview of Lila. It was priceless to say the least. Her former classmates tried to approach her but that was shut down immediately. Many other things had happened at the party that made it so much better, but that’s a thought for another day.
Right now, there is someone sitting alone at the park.
Is that Adrien?
Ladybug let out a sigh before she swung down to the park.
Adrien blinked a couple of times when he heard steps walking towards him. He looked over to see Ladybug walking up to him. He smiled at the sight of her. “Hello, Ladybug? Having a good night?”
Ladybug raised an eyebrow at Adrien, she sensed something is up with Adrien but did not make any notion for him to open up. “A little late to be out, Adrien?”
Adrien shrugged before he looked down at the ground, his brows furled deep in thought. “Can I ask you something, Ladybug? I need your advice in something?”
Ladybug stared at him for a moment before motioning for him to speak. Might as well hear what Adrien wants to say and need advice in. This is new considering how his advice has never been exactly the greatest.
Adrien began to tell her about the advice he had given to Marinette, when it came to Lila.
Adrien Agreste is asking her opinion on the advice he had given Marinette, who by extension, is actually herself. The same advice that had weighed heavy in her mind so much so, that it nearly akumatized her. Ladybug had stopped listening to Adrien as she felt anger started to bubble within her. This is too much, far too much. It was one thing to ask her about his original advice. Oh no, now he’s going on about Marinette’s actions that contradicted mentioned advice.
For what? To make sure that Lila does not get akumatized. Again.
“And Marinette? What of Marinette? Were you not even worried if she got Akumatized because of Lila?” Ladybug cut Adrien off. “Have you even thought of the highly possible chance she could be the one getting Akumatized over your advice? Paris got very lucky tonight there were no akumas out tonight otherwise the city would have Akuma’s at every corner of it.”
Adrien looked shocked over Ladybug’s words. His silence, his answer, has Ladybug starting to pace around.
“No, you did not care. What you cared is to make sure Marinette kept quiet and did not stand up for herself. Not only to Lila, but also by extension to Chloe.” Ladybug grounded out, sending Adrien a glare as she continued to pace. “You expected Marientte that as long as the two of you knew the truth, that nothing else pretty matters? That as long as Lila continued lying to everyone and allowing her to walk over Marinette, who is supposed to be your friend, that it did not matter?”
“It’s not like that, Ladybug.” Adrien stood up and approached Ladybug. Ladybug raised a hand at Adrien’s direction to stop him from getting close to her.
“Then how is it, Adrien?” Ladybug questioned. “You are prioritizing Lila over everyone, even if it puts them all at risk at getting akumatized themselves. Is that what you wanted to hear? That your advice is horrible. Let me tell you something, Marinette, your supposed friend to nearly get akumatized. Twice. It’s all because of Lila and the second time, Hawkmoth got to her and for some reason the akumatization did not take place. Lila caused that. All because she wanted to keep your promise when it came to her. Truth is that Lila Rossi is a liar that should have been exposed a long time ago and I am happy that it happened tonight. I am happy!”
“What about Lila? It was horrible what happened to her, she got humiliated in front of nearly the entire school.” Adrien tried to ask but was cut off when he saw Ladybug pulling out her yo-yo.
“To be frank Adrien… when it comes to bad people… you need to knock them down several pegs to get them to understand how wrong they are.”
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buckyownsmylife · 3 years
Text
Secret Door: the one where there’s a ball and some undisclosed feelings
President James Buchanan Barnes is the first president to occupy the White House without a first lady ever since… well, President James Buchanan Barnes. But he’s not too worried about it, since he got his best friend from college acting as his VP, supporting him just like only someone who knew everything about him could do. What happens when feelings from the past start to resurface?
Or the one where you and Bucky used to date but now you got a country to run.
for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.
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Y/N’s P.O.V.
“Are you free?” I asked as I chanced a glance inside the oval room, only to find James looking down at nothing in particular with a defeated look on his face. My movement had him glancing up to meet my eyes though, and a beautiful smile brightened his expression at the realization that I was the one talking to him.
“For you? Always.” He excitedly waved me in, already leaping out of his chair. “Come here, darling. I need one of your hugs.” I opened a little smile of my own at his request, but more tentatively than I would have if I hadn’t seen just how tired he looked before he saw me.
I was worried about him. Even now, while I had his arms around my body, his beard tickling my neck, it didn’t seem like he was really here at all. And it felt like he thought the same if the way he squeezed me was any indication of just how hard he was trying to be more present in the moment we were currently still living in.
I tried to pull away, but his arms only tightened around my smaller body, and so I relented, letting him rely on me for as long as he needed to. It was the least I could do, not for the President of my nation, but for my best friend since college.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I asked once he finally let me go, still keeping me close by holding my wrists delicately but with purpose. He seemed to consider my words, lips pursed in thought, that cute little frown that made me want to bury my thumb between his eyebrows appearing on his face, but ended up shaking his head.
“Not really. What I would like is for you to come have dinner with me tonight. Do you think you can make it?” Of course I could. No one in their right mind would pass up the opportunity for dinner with the President, if not for his title, at least for his personal chef, but it wasn’t my case.
I could never say no to him because his company was my absolute favorite. I’d always chosen him over anything, and he’d done the same for me. But tonight, I knew neither of us could retreat into any sort of personal encounter because we both had the same social gathering to attend.
“I’d love to, but the ball, remember?” I watched as realization struck over Bucky, and he slapped his own forehead and groaned, making me giggle. He really was such a manchild at times, even if only with me.
“Ugh, do we really have to go?” Rolling my eyes at his whining, I fixed his suit while I bit on the inside of my cheek, so I wouldn’t just relent and laugh. I knew he was only saying this for show, an immature effort to get on my nerves.
I really did know him too well.
“Yes, we do. We can have dinner tomorrow. I’ll ask your assistant to clear off your schedule, I don’t know of any major commitments you have to attend.” When I finished fixing his clothes, I noticed the lack of response, and so I looked up to find him staring down at me with the most lovesick expression in his eyes. I laughed, but only to try to soften the mood of the room, ignore the way it made my heartbeat pick up.
“You really are the perfect woman, have I ever told you that?”
“Only all the time.” I smiled, thinking back fondly on everything we’d shared that led us here. It was a hell of a ride, but it was definitely easier with him by my side.
“It’s because it’s the truth.” I nodded, accepting his words as I prepared to leave, but then a gentle hand on my elbow had me looking back. “What color is your dress for this evening?” The question made me curious, but it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary. Bucky was always looking for ways to show me that he cared.
“Yellow.” He nodded, releasing me as a silent way to say that I could leave. I smiled back at him, nodding in return.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
Bucky’s P.O.V.
The sound of heels against marble in the nearly empty hallway alerted me of her arrival. Turning around, I found her wearing the most beautiful and elegant yellow dress, the exact shade I had chosen to wear as a tie for the evening.
“Oh, wow,” I commented, opening a smile after I was able to close my mouth. “You look wonderful, sweetheart.” She looked extremely suspicious of me, although a huge smile took over most of her face.
“I like your tie.” Chuckling, I subconsciously adjusted it before reaching out to take her hand, wanting to close the space between us as soon as possible. The feeling of her warm skin always made me feel comforted, even if I didn’t know that I needed any sort of comfort. 
She seemed to know it, though. She always did. It was why I knew my decision to ask her to become my vice-president was the right one to make, even though our previous history together would make our run a peculiar one, to say the least.
“Good, you were supposed to appreciate it.” She hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t give me any more shows of how it affected her, eyeing the knot I’d just secured before reaching out for it again. Maybe it should make me irritated, but I could only find it adorable, how she insisted on double checking my outfit when I was sure nothing was wrong with it.
“Sam helped you with it?” At the mention of my assistant, I looked up from her cute little face to see that he was standing right behind her, sporting a knowing smile on as he watched our interaction, just patiently waiting for us to decide to leave.
“You know it.” She smiled up at me then, and suddenly there was an unspoken conversation between us that I didn’t want to break. I wasn’t too sure if what she was trying to communicate was the same I wanted to hear, but a guy could hope.
All hope eventually ends up lost when there’s a presidential commitment to attend, though. I should have known it by now.
“We really should be going,” Sam’s voice interrupted us, and still I smiled. She returned it as well, knowing this was our life, this was what we did - at least for the next three years.
“Shall we?” I asked, offering my arm to her, who bowed teasingly before accepting it.
“We shall.”
Y/N’s P.O.V.
Time would pass and we would eventually step out of power and I still wouldn’t become accustomed to all of this. All of the press, the fake smiles, the insipid conversations. But it was a part of the job. And at least I had James by my side to help me deal with all of it. If there was one thing I admired about him, it was his ability to make every situation exciting.
“I don’t think I actually told you just how beautiful you look tonight,” a familiar voice murmured right by my ear, hands slotting themselves over my hips as one of mine clutched my chest in surprise. I guess I truly had been distracted, staring out at the beautiful garden from the balcony I managed to find so I could get a breath of fresh air.
“You really think so?” I asked, turning around to meet his eyes. He had a cheeky smile on his lips, the one that made him look younger than he was - the one I adored so much.
“Oh, yes. You’re also incredibly distracting. I couldn’t focus on a single conversation people tried to hold with me tonight. But you know what?” I hummed, tilting my head to signal him I wanted to hear what he was going to say. “I find myself enjoying this distraction.”
It was impossible not to giggle - he’d always been a charmer, and that was the reason why I fell so hard for him back in college. If there was a reason we worked well together, however, it was because I knew how to give him a hard time.
“I mean, I would too, if I was stuck in a conversation with Senator Johnsson. Although everything is distracting when you’re near that man.” He tried to control his laughter, he really did, but in the end, it broke free, floating in the air around us and coaxing my own to join his.
By the time he was finally able to breathe again, he was shaking his head, his eyes crinkling in the corners, in that familiar way that I knew meant he was thinking I was too much.
“Well, then. I think I’ve earned myself a small break from all that boredom. Mind if I join you out here?” It was my turn to shake my head with a small smile, stepping to the side to give him more space to breathe.
“Not even a little bit.” It was silent for a second as we stared out to the garden, just reveling in each other’s companies. Despite how frequently we saw each other, it wasn’t usually this quiet, or ever this peaceful. It felt good to just feel enchanted by his proximity again.
But I knew I couldn’t stay there too long, and if he wanted some time to relax, I should probably get back there and distract people so they wouldn’t come looking for him. That was my plan when I took a step back, almost turning around to open the door when I felt his hand clasping me.
Only it wasn’t over my shoulder or arm, which was probably his original goal. Somehow, in the effort to keep me still, he didn’t anticipate in which direction I’d turn, so he ended up with a hand curled around my breast.
“I-I’m sorry,” he was quick to apologize, immediately dropping his arm. “I didn’t intend to.” He looked so utterly embarrassed by the situation, it was almost heartwarming. I felt the overwhelming urge to console him, not even for a second feeling uncomfortable because of what had transpired.
Bucky’s P.O.V.
“James, it’s okay,” she comforted me, her hand over my shoulder. “I’ve felt your hands in far more intimate places, remember?”
How could I ever forget?
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The door slammed behind us but we were too busy lost in each other’s lips to care. I almost tripped on a forgotten sneaker as I tried to guide us to the couch, unwilling to worry about one of my roommates walking in on us right then.
It’s not like it would be the first time.
Her hands reached around her own torso to get rid of her shirt and bra, and I was left with my mouth watering at the sight that really should be familiar by now. She still hypnotized me all the same.
“C’mon, James,” she whined, hands tugging on my hair to try to pry me away from her nipple. “No foreplay. I need you now.” I groaned, finally relenting and letting go of her breast to work on unbuckling my belt as my cock twitched at her words.
“Naughty little slut,” I sneered, wrapping her hair around my fist when she positioned herself on her knees for me, holding onto the armrest of the couch. “I’m gonna fill you so good.”
She gasped in satisfaction upon feeling my cock stretch her out, something that had my heart skipping a bit every time. “Only I can make you feel this good, huh?” I asked, pulling on her strands to make sure she’d listen to me, even despite how roughly I was pounding her.
“Tell me,” I ordered, all insecurities and nerves, a young man still in college, finally exploring all of his sexual desires with the woman of his dream. Thankfully, she always gave me just what I needed, not only physically, but emotionally too.
“Yes, yes, Bucky. Only you, baby. God, you fuck me so fucking good.” It always thrilled me to no end to hear her usual perfectly composed self say the nastiest shit when I had my cock inside of her. Only I got to have this side of her, only I knew all of her.
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She felt like home, in more ways than one. Whenever I had her, it was the best, sloppiest sex ever, and even years after I’d last touched her, I could still remember it perfectly.
I don’t think I’d ever be able to forget.
“God, you are such a fucking tease,” present me jokingly chastised, burying my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t reach out and touch her again. The need was always there though, and it was overwhelming each time.
“Too much?” She joked, biting her lower lip as if it wasn’t the sexiest fucking thing ever. It made me groan, more out of desire than frustration at her words, but she’d never know.
“Just short of enough. Maybe it’ll keep my hunger at bay for a little while longer.” I looked up at her from under my eyelashes, trying to gather how she felt about what I was implying, but other than seeing her eyes widen a little bit, she gave me nothing.
She really knew me all too well by now.
“Still,” I continued, trying not to let the situation become awkward. “It seems like you’re not wearing a bra…” I teased, eyebrows raised high as if I was judging her for it. “Care to explain yourself, madam vice president?”
When she threw her head back to laugh, it exposed more of her delicious neck, and I unconsciously licked my lips at the clear skin I saw there. It didn’t use to look that way when we were together. I was very much into marking her all over - immature, possessive, and extremely in love with the woman before me.
“With this dress?” She asked, looking down at herself and making me look down at her neckline automatically. God, she was incredible. “Of course not. Can’t wear panties either.”
And just as I groaned at the new information, she giggled, winking over her shoulder as she reached out for the door. “Why must you tease me like this?” I shouted over the music, but all I could hear in response was her delighted laugh, and honestly, that was more than enough.
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rebelontheroad · 4 years
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MICHELLE OBAMA FULL SPEECH (Dem Convention)
«Good evening, everyone. It’s a hard time, and everyone’s feeling it in different ways. And I know a lot of folks are reluctant to tune into a political convention right now or to politics in general. Believe me, I get that. But I am here tonight because I love this country with all my heart, and it pains me to see so many people hurting.
I’ve met so many of you. I’ve heard your stories. And through you, I have seen this country’s promise. And thanks to so many who came before me, thanks to their toil and sweat and blood, I’ve been able to live that promise myself.
That’s the story of America. All those folks who sacrificed and overcame so much in their own times because they wanted something more, something better for their kids.
There’s a lot of beauty in that story. There’s a lot of pain in it, too, a lot of struggle and injustice and work left to do. And who we choose as our president in this election will determine whether or not we honor that struggle and chip away at that injustice and keep alive the very possibility of finishing that work.
I am one of a handful of people living today who have seen firsthand the immense weight and awesome power of the presidency. And let me once again tell you this: The job is hard. It requires clearheaded judgment, a mastery of complex and competing issues, a devotion to facts and history, a moral compass, and an ability to listen — and an abiding belief that each of the 330,000,000 lives in this country has meaning and worth.
A president’s words have the power to move markets. They can start wars or broker peace. They can summon our better angels or awaken our worst instincts. You simply cannot fake your way through this job.
As I’ve said before, being president doesn’t change who you are; it reveals who you are. Well, a presidential election can reveal who we are, too. And four years ago, too many people chose to believe that their votes didn’t matter. Maybe they were fed up. Maybe they thought the outcome wouldn’t be close. Maybe the barriers felt too steep. Whatever the reason, in the end, those choices sent someone to the Oval Office who lost the national popular vote by nearly 3,000,000 votes.
In one of the states that determined the outcome, the winning margin averaged out to just two votes per precinct — two votes. And we’ve all been living with the consequences.
When my husband left office with Joe Biden at his side, we had a record-breaking stretch of job creation. We’d secured the right to health care for 20,000,000 people. We were respected around the world, rallying our allies to confront climate change. And our leaders had worked hand-in-hand with scientists to help prevent an Ebola outbreak from becoming a global pandemic.
Four years later, the state of this nation is very different. More than 150,000 people have died, and our economy is in shambles because of a virus that this president downplayed for too long. It has left millions of people jobless. Too many have lost their health care; too many are struggling to take care of basic necessities like food and rent; too many communities have been left in the lurch to grapple with whether and how to open our schools safely. Internationally, we’ve turned our back, not just on agreements forged by my husband, but on alliances championed by presidents like Reagan and Eisenhower.
And here at home, as George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and a never-ending list of innocent people of color continue to be murdered, stating the simple fact that a Black life matters is still met with derision from the nation’s highest office.
Because whenever we look to this White House for some leadership or consolation or any semblance of steadiness, what we get instead is chaos, division, and a total and utter lack of empathy.
Empathy: that’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. The ability to walk in someone else’s shoes; the recognition that someone else’s experience has value, too. Most of us practice this without a second thought. If we see someone suffering or struggling, we don’t stand in judgment. We reach out because, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” It is not a hard concept to grasp. It’s what we teach our children.
And like so many of you, Barack and I have tried our best to instill in our girls a strong moral foundation to carry forward the values that our parents and grandparents poured into us. But right now, kids in this country are seeing what happens when we stop requiring empathy of one another. They’re looking around wondering if we’ve been lying to them this whole time about who we are and what we truly value.
They see people shouting in grocery stores, unwilling to wear a mask to keep us all safe. They see people calling the police on folks minding their own business just because of the color of their skin. They see an entitlement that says only certain people belong here, that greed is good, and winning is everything because as long as you come out on top, it doesn’t matter what happens to everyone else. And they see what happens when that lack of empathy is ginned up into outright disdain.
They see our leaders labeling fellow citizens enemies of the state while emboldening torch-bearing white supremacists. They watch in horror as children are torn from their families and thrown into cages, and pepper spray and rubber bullets are used on peaceful protesters for a photo op.
Sadly, this is the America that is on display for the next generation. A nation that’s underperforming not simply on matters of policy but on matters of character. And that’s not just disappointing; it’s downright infuriating, because I know the goodness and the grace that is out there in households and neighborhoods all across this nation.
And I know that regardless of our race, age, religion, or politics, when we close out the noise and the fear and truly open our hearts, we know that what’s going on in this country is just not right. This is not who we want to be.
So what do we do now? What’s our strategy? Over the past four years, a lot of people have asked me, “When others are going so low, does going high still really work?” My answer: going high is the only thing that works, because when we go low, when we use those same tactics of degrading and dehumanizing others, we just become part of the ugly noise that’s drowning out everything else. We degrade ourselves. We degrade the very causes for which we fight.
But let’s be clear: going high does not mean putting on a smile and saying nice things when confronted by viciousness and cruelty. Going high means taking the harder path. It means scraping and clawing our way to that mountain top. Going high means standing fierce against hatred while remembering that we are one nation under God, and if we want to survive, we’ve got to find a way to live together and work together across our differences.
And going high means unlocking the shackles of lies and mistrust with the only thing that can truly set us free: the cold, hard truth.
So let me be as honest and clear as I possibly can. Donald Trump is the wrong president for our country. He has had more than enough time to prove that he can do the job, but he is clearly in over his head. He cannot meet this moment. He simply cannot be who we need him to be for us. It is what it is.
Now, I understand that my message won’t be heard by some people. We live in a nation that is deeply divided, and I am a Black woman speaking at the Democratic Convention. But enough of you know me by now. You know that I tell you exactly what I’m feeling. You know I hate politics. But you also know that I care about this nation. You know how much I care about all of our children.
So if you take one thing from my words tonight, it is this: if you think things cannot possibly get worse, trust me, they can; and they will if we don’t make a change in this election. If we have any hope of ending this chaos, we have got to vote for Joe Biden like our lives depend on it.
I know Joe. He is a profoundly decent man, guided by faith. He was a terrific vice president. He knows what it takes to rescue an economy, beat back a pandemic, and lead our country. And he listens. He will tell the truth and trust science. He will make smart plans and manage a good team. And he will govern as someone who’s lived a life that the rest of us can recognize.
When he was a kid, Joe’s father lost his job. When he was a young senator, Joe lost his wife and his baby daughter. And when he was vice president, he lost his beloved son. So Joe knows the anguish of sitting at a table with an empty chair, which is why he gives his time so freely to grieving parents. Joe knows what it’s like to struggle, which is why he gives his personal phone number to kids overcoming a stutter of their own.
His life is a testament to getting back up, and he is going to channel that same grit and passion to pick us all up, to help us heal and guide us forward.
Now, Joe is not perfect. And he’d be the first to tell you that. But there is no perfect candidate, no perfect president. And his ability to learn and grow — we find in that the kind of humility and maturity that so many of us yearn for right now. Because Joe Biden has served this nation his entire life without ever losing sight of who he is; but more than that, he has never lost sight of who we are, all of us.
Joe Biden wants all of our kids to go to a good school, see a doctor when they’re sick, live on a healthy planet. And he’s got plans to make all of that happen. Joe Biden wants all of our kids, no matter what they look like, to be able to walk out the door without worrying about being harassed or arrested or killed. He wants all of our kids to be able to go to a movie or a math class without being afraid of getting shot. He wants all our kids to grow up with leaders who won’t just serve themselves and their wealthy peers but will provide a safety net for people facing hard times.
And if we want a chance to pursue any of these goals, any of these most basic requirements for a functioning society, we have to vote for Joe Biden in numbers that cannot be ignored. Because right now, folks who know they cannot win fair and square at the ballot box are doing everything they can to stop us from voting. They’re closing down polling places in minority neighborhoods. They’re purging voter rolls. They’re sending people out to intimidate voters, and they’re lying about the security of our ballots. These tactics are not new.
But this is not the time to withhold our votes in protest or play games with candidates who have no chance of winning. We have got to vote like we did in 2008 and 2012. We’ve got to show up with the same level of passion and hope for Joe Biden. We’ve got to vote early, in person if we can. We’ve got to request our mail-in ballots right now, tonight, and send them back immediately and follow-up to make sure they’re received. And then, make sure our friends and families do the same.
We have got to grab our comfortable shoes, put on our masks, pack a brown bag dinner and maybe breakfast too, because we’ve got to be willing to stand in line all night if we have to.
Look, we have already sacrificed so much this year. So many of you are already going that extra mile. Even when you’re exhausted, you’re mustering up unimaginable courage to put on those scrubs and give our loved ones a fighting chance. Even when you’re anxious, you’re delivering those packages, stocking those shelves, and doing all that essential work so that all of us can keep moving forward.
Even when it all feels so overwhelming, working parents are somehow piecing it all together without child care. Teachers are getting creative so that our kids can still learn and grow. Our young people are desperately fighting to pursue their dreams.
And when the horrors of systemic racism shook our country and our consciences, millions of Americans of every age, every background rose up to march for each other, crying out for justice and progress.
This is who we still are: compassionate, resilient, decent people whose fortunes are bound up with one another. And it is well past time for our leaders to once again reflect our truth.
So, it is up to us to add our voices and our votes to the course of history, echoing heroes like John Lewis who said, “When you see something that is not right, you must say something. You must do something.” That is the truest form of empathy: not just feeling, but doing; not just for ourselves or our kids, but for everyone, for all our kids.
And if we want to keep the possibility of progress alive in our time, if we want to be able to look our children in the eye after this election, we have got to reassert our place in American history. And we have got to do everything we can to elect my friend, Joe Biden, as the next president of the United States.
Thank you all. God bless.»
Michelle Obama
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